Sunny London

I’m trying out something new. I can’t be bothered writing much today, but I know I should, or I’ll get out of the habit. So I’m doing some photo essays.
I was in London over the Easter weekend with the folks (that’s right, my parents came to visit!) and it was delightful.
I didn’t go to any of the art galleries.
I went to one museum (the Victoria & Albert).
I went to the theatre, but, despite the play’s very serious and threatening intentions, it wasn’t particularly interesting, or original… it was just ok, and verging on the melodramatic.
What I did, to my everlasting surprise, was sit in the sun. I sat in the sun in Hampstead Heath on my first day.

It was glorious.

I sat in the sun and watched the people and read my book and lay in the grass, and I haven’t felt so happy and content in a while. Now I understand why all the Irish and English people come to Australia and spend all their days getting burnt in the sun. They’re catching up on years of Vitamin D deprivation.

The next day was just as hot and glorious. I spent it in Regent’s Park and the Queen Mary’s gardens and totally spied on loved-up couples making out on the grass.

No, no, its not sad and creepy and pathetic… its the documentation of life and human existence…

In the gardens, you could hire a paddle boat to ride around a little lake in.

It looked like fun, and even though only couples and families and friends were doing it, I decided I wanted to do it too. No, I HAD to do it too. I approached the boat man hesitantly and asked if I was allowed to hire a boat on my own. He gave me a strange look and said of course I was allowed to hire a boat on my own. Of course you are, Jenny. Stupid question. All he wants is your 7.50 pounds, he doesn’t care about social etiquette or whether or not you look like a sad, lonely Bridge Jones-type girl who will probably end up with too many cats and not Hugh Grant OR Colin Firth.

I was on the lake for an hour, and it was very peaceful. I saw birds. Single fathers shot me smiles as their (3!) children went crazy on the paddle boats. No, thank you.

That afternoon, after an impromptu splurge on a top made of a silk scarf and lace (Seriously, it was pink and white and frilly. I didn’t stand a chance), I met up with the parentals at Hammersmith. We had a traditional British pub meal, cider, chatted and went to bed.

Sunday started with a long breakfast and then we headed into Leicester Square to see what theatre was available. Unfortunately, it being a Sunday, and Easter Sunday, in particular, there was nothing much on. So, we went to the Victoria & Albert Museum instead.But, after 45 minutes of looking at statues, which, to be honest, weren’t filling me with much joy or excitement, we went outside to the garden. We sat in the sun for a bit, and then Dad & Elizabeth decided they wanted to go back inside. I considered it. I thought about it long and hard. I thought about all the decorative art from all over the world, from all different time periods. I thought about all the lovely, rare things to be seen inside in the museum and….
I decided I wanted to sit in the sun.
Which I did. For 2 hours. It was delightful. Children were running around in the fountain in their underpants, despite signs telling them to keep their clothes on. One of the most interesting sights I saw was a Muslim father and mother, the woman with a headscarf on, arguing with one of the museum staff who wanted their stark naked daughter, who was running through the water, to put some clothes on. They clearly thought this was a prudish and over zealous request. Interesting.

Well, that’s it from me. Despite all the sun, I didn’t get burnt. After a tearful farewell to the folks, I’m now home in Bandon and hoping there will be some sun in Ireland as well as England in the next few weeks. Because that would be nice.


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