First impressions of London:
I love this city. We are staying in the West End and, thus far, have loved nearly every minute.
Some of the things I especially love:
The food has been excellent.
I enjoyed a breakfast of eggs, bacon, sausage, beans, black pudding, toast, and mushrooms. I didn’t love everything on my plate, but I didn’t hate anything, either. Even the black pudding, which is baked like bread, was not bad.
My dinner was shepherds’ pie. One of the best I’ve ever had.
We drank apple juice squeezed fresh from green apples. It was the best apple juice Charlie has ever had.
I’ve also seen outdoor stands for baked and mashed potatoes. How is it that we do not have this in the United States?
Also, lots of fish-and-chips places, which is a favorite.
Tipping in London is automatic. Already on the bill with no option to improve the tip, making paying for food quick and easy.
We saw “Operation Mincemeat” at the Fortune Theater. It was one of the finest theater productions I have ever seen, and I have seen many, many Broadway shows. The writing, the performances, and the sheer brilliance of five people playing dozens of roles astounded me.
I cry just thinking about it — both in terms of the story as well as the artistry. It’s a musical and a comedy, but just when you’re having a laugh, it punches you with heart, sadness, and meaning.
My kind of story. Also a true story, making it even more extraordinary.
The people in London are incredibly polite, helpful, and kind. I like them a lot.
I can spot Americans from a mile away. We absolutely have a look about us that is different from Londoners. We are, in fact, louder than the people around us, and we move with greater confidence and swagger than is perhaps warranted.
This is probably both good and bad.
Elysha has been extraordinary at connecting with people on the train, in hotels, restaurants, and shops. This has garnered us useful information, excellent suggestions for local cuisine, and at least two possible future houseguests.
We’ve also worked well as a team. At various times during our walks around London, Elysha, Charlie, or I have been guiding us via GPS. The London streets are a web of interconnected streets at every angle, so navigation can be tricky at times, but not always. Not always being the leader has been lovely.
Charlie has been purchasing CDs and cassettes at various record stores around the city. The boy loves his physical media.
Clara has been jumping from bookstores, map stores, and coin shops. She’s also adept at spotting blue historical circles that dot the city, identifying the significance of locations, and giving us history lessons whether we want them or not.
And Elysha and Clara each purchased a Miffy, which Charlie and I still don’t quite understand, but every time Elysha looks at her Miffy, she smiles.
I bought some postcards at a Harry Potter shop owned by the folks who did the artistic work for the movies. It was an extraordinary store filled with bits of brilliance and genius, but so far, my only souvenirs are cards that I will no longer have once I send them away.
We also made our way down two streets that were inspirations for locations in Harry Potter. So fun.
A few complaints:
These people don’t believe in ice. Water is served lukewarm. What could they possibly be thinking?
The lights in the hotel rooms are janky as hell. Switches that require strange combinations to make lamps and fixtures work. Odd buttons and toggles. Perhaps it’s just our hotel room, but the wiring must be crazy.
We are staying in a very good hotel in the center of the West End, and from the outside, it’s beautiful and majestic. The lobby gleams. The elevators are highly conversational but beautiful. But our room would be considered average or even below average in the United States.
It’s fine, but it’s not great.
Maybe our hotel, but I get the sense the size and grandeur of high-end hotels in the US is not the standard here.
The restroom at the theater was the smallest I’ve ever seen.
I cannot possibly convey the minutiae of this public restroom.
I used a urinal that required me to press my butt against a man adjacent to me who was using a urinal on the wall 90 degrees to my own. I was also forced bend at the waist at 45-degree angle to accommodate the angled ceiling above the urinal. The room was, without exaggeration, about eight feet by eight feet and contained three urinals, a sink, and at least five men at a time.
Just try to imagine it. You can’t. I promise.
To enter or exit the single stall, you had to climb over the toilet to close the door.
I did get to flush that toilet with a chain from above, which was fun.
I was unable to pee at a 45-degree angle, so I abandoned the urinal for the stall.
None of that amounted to much, however, because the show was so damn spectacular. All of us left the theater in wonder and awe at what we’d just seen, and Elysha and I have already looked into purchasing tickets in Boston, Providence, or Hartford this year or next to see it again as it tours the United States.
You should see it. It’s not often that you have the opportunity to see one of the greatest things you will ever see, on par, for me, with “Rent” and “Hamilton.”
