A day in London

My organisation went like a dream! I am a genius! Okay, the view from our hotel wasn't ... well, it was a view of London.

But the good news was that it was even closer to the theatre than I'd realised, practically next door.

After arriving on Wednesday afternoon we went for a wander. The wonderful thing about London is that every street name, every place has history, either from real life or from literature. Speaking of which we walked down Charing Cross Road past Foyle's bookshop. I looked longingly inside but said, 'Come on, let's keep on walking.'

I am a bit of a liability walking around the city, forever stopping to peer at things or to ooh and aah at lights or sparkles or just about anything. I even enjoy the underground for the opportunity it gives me - in passing as Husband marches on ahead - to see what's on or what are the new books displayed on the posters. I was intrigued by one advert that was just words that began something like this, 'If you're reading this it means you're a reader ...' I think it might have been an advert for David Mitchell's new book but I can't find an image of it - and Husband was rushing me. I really wanted to read the rest.

Carrying on we reached Leicester Square and then Covent Garden.

Much more oohing and aahing. And when shops don't have prices in the window you know you can't afford them.

On our way back we just had time to pop into Foyle's. Not really enough time as a whole day wouldn't have been enough. I had to satisfy my cravings so I bought four children's books, Christmas presents, as I explained to Husband. But the children's section was so enormous; I didn't even look at anything else. So much more choice than anything we have locally.

Then it was finally back to the hotel for a pre-lunch dinner followed by the Main Event! Over-excited? Moi?

The show was fab! The singers wonderful, the dancers amazingly fit and energetic, the costumes gorgeous, and, ooooh, just perfect. And at the finale it snowed on us! Real snow!

Excited just remembering it. And, of course, now I want to be a dancer in a West End show.

This morning we'd arranged to meet Elder Son at Oxford Street Circus, a ten-minute walk from our hotel. When we got there we stood in a doorway so I could be out of the way to look at my message in which he said he'd meet us outside the Nike shop. We stepped out from our shelter and looked around. 'There's isn't a Nike shop,' I said. 
Then Husband tapped me on the shoulder. 'We're standing outside it,' he said.'

Elder Son used to work close by so he knew the good places for coffee. He pointed out one that apparently features in the Top Thirteen Coffee Shops You Must Visit Before You Die. We didn't go there because a) I don't drink coffee, and b) I was more interested in visiting the Scandi shop he'd told me about that sells a Scandinavian chocolate cake, which Elder Son made at home to much critical acclaim from me. Kladdkaka. 

Of course when we got there they didn't have any kladdkaka but they did have a very delicious rye banana bread with cinnamon butter.

We said goodbye to him and made our way to Paddington Station where, after some searching and eventually asking at the Information Desk, I found Paddington himself.

We must go again, next time in milder weather when it isn't so chilly. And when we've saved up for it.

P.S. General Waverley looked familiar. I've just googled and it turns out he was played by Michael Brandon.

The most famous of his roles was as Dempsey (or Makepeace) but we didn't watch that so I don't know why he looks familiar. One of those faces obviously.