Splendid day so far... Snuck off for secret meeting this morning, which went well. Then the IT at work had a freakout and all the systems had to be taken offline, including phones as there was a fire risk. Which meant leaving work at 2pm and returning happily to Brighton, doing a spot of shopping and catching up on my blog a bit...
* * *
Friday morning (22 April) and pacing about impatiently waiting for MJ at Heathrow, as MJ's plane was delayed. This followed by an emotional reunion. My life with MJ is like a movie. Our relationship conducted in bursts against all kinds of picturesque settings with proper ends and beginnings.
From Heathrow we got the fast train to Paddington and a cab to our hotel in Bloomsbury where we met MJ's guardian angels Michael (a.k.a Sweetie Pie) and Johanna. Mr and Mrs Pie were exceptionally nice people -- funny, warm and generous, and by the end of the holiday I had made two new friends.
There was a Schedule to be abided by, and MJ had just enough time for a shower before we were handed a printout of said schedule (printed in gothic font) and information about Dickens in London and we four plunged into the streets past the Old Curiosity Shop and down into the Temple which I'd not been into for ages. Michael positively encyclopaedic on London and making sure MJ didn't miss anything. Fortunately it was a beautiful day too, and I felt proud of the old town, and MJ despite the jetlag, was really happy to be here.
Then up to Fleet Street to Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese, which MJ loved. Happy memories for me too of lurking in there with Bob. We ate there which I had never done, and it was perfectly nice sitting where Michael said Dickens had sat when he strapped on the nosebag.
Then on to The Charles Dickens Museum. Penty of good stuff to look at, I was rather struck by what was evidently a popular print of the time of Dickens' empty desk after he had died. Typical mawkish Victorian stuff, but I like the Zen-like idea of defining something by its absence.
Then a scamper back to the Hotel. Our room was lovely, with a four poster bed and a view over a square of gardens leading right up to the great walls of the British Museum.
Much-needed snoozing followed by more to be seen. Popped into the portrait gallery to see the group portrait of the Brontes by their brother.
Then through Trafalgar Square, Pall Mall past St James's Palace and Buck House and doubling back to be by Big Ben when it struck nine. Then into a cab to the Tower of London for the ceremony of the keys. Lots of satisfying shouty theatre in the dark, from the chaps in scarlet coats. Good to be walking about near the refreshingly unambiguously-named Bloody Tower and Traitors Gate and so on.
A lovely, whirlwind day full laughter, and me being fantastically happy to see MJ again. She really is the best of ladies.
* * *
Friday morning (22 April) and pacing about impatiently waiting for MJ at Heathrow, as MJ's plane was delayed. This followed by an emotional reunion. My life with MJ is like a movie. Our relationship conducted in bursts against all kinds of picturesque settings with proper ends and beginnings.
From Heathrow we got the fast train to Paddington and a cab to our hotel in Bloomsbury where we met MJ's guardian angels Michael (a.k.a Sweetie Pie) and Johanna. Mr and Mrs Pie were exceptionally nice people -- funny, warm and generous, and by the end of the holiday I had made two new friends.
There was a Schedule to be abided by, and MJ had just enough time for a shower before we were handed a printout of said schedule (printed in gothic font) and information about Dickens in London and we four plunged into the streets past the Old Curiosity Shop and down into the Temple which I'd not been into for ages. Michael positively encyclopaedic on London and making sure MJ didn't miss anything. Fortunately it was a beautiful day too, and I felt proud of the old town, and MJ despite the jetlag, was really happy to be here.
Then up to Fleet Street to Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese, which MJ loved. Happy memories for me too of lurking in there with Bob. We ate there which I had never done, and it was perfectly nice sitting where Michael said Dickens had sat when he strapped on the nosebag.
Then on to The Charles Dickens Museum. Penty of good stuff to look at, I was rather struck by what was evidently a popular print of the time of Dickens' empty desk after he had died. Typical mawkish Victorian stuff, but I like the Zen-like idea of defining something by its absence.
Then a scamper back to the Hotel. Our room was lovely, with a four poster bed and a view over a square of gardens leading right up to the great walls of the British Museum.
Much-needed snoozing followed by more to be seen. Popped into the portrait gallery to see the group portrait of the Brontes by their brother.
Then through Trafalgar Square, Pall Mall past St James's Palace and Buck House and doubling back to be by Big Ben when it struck nine. Then into a cab to the Tower of London for the ceremony of the keys. Lots of satisfying shouty theatre in the dark, from the chaps in scarlet coats. Good to be walking about near the refreshingly unambiguously-named Bloody Tower and Traitors Gate and so on.
A lovely, whirlwind day full laughter, and me being fantastically happy to see MJ again. She really is the best of ladies.
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