OK. It was another break-speed day of being a tourist.
We started by swinging by Buckingham Palace, because I swear the queen has been texting and phoning and Facebooking and even sending men in bear hats and red suits to come a personally BEG us to drop by. So we did. And then she wasn’t even home! WHATEVER! Never trust a queen, unless she’s in spike heels and sporting a wig and false eyelashes. Even then it’s sketchy territory.
So we met up with Fancy Chance and had high tea at The Ritz. And in case you don’t know, Rosemary is kind of all about tea, so this was kind of a religious pilgrimage for her. She said she liked the biscuits and gold interiors most. And the cheese sandwiches. And – oh yeah – the tea.
Then (are you tired yet, because we were getting there), we humped over to Westminster to take a boat tour of the Thames. There are a lot of famous places on that river. Like London Bridge (which most decidedly was not falling down), Tower of London, Big Ben, The Globe Theater, and on and on and on. It’s like the city is showboating its history.
Little sidenote: The Olympics start tomorrow, so the press is literally EVERYWHERE, interviewing young svelte muscle-y people that look like they work out or something. I hate them all. And they all make me tear up like a proud mama bear. You just want to hug them and wish them luck and then go slit your wrists because WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH YOUR LIFE????
Whoa. Little insecurity hernia. Let me just poke that back in.
Right. Took the Eurostar to Paris. Ate dinner at our very trendy hotel’s (Mama Shelter check it out) very trendy restaurant. And now I’m in bed, writing this.
G’night and bonsoir!