Given our complete lack of success in the shopping stakes over the past two days, we decided that we would get the same results by not shopping, so we thought we’d have a go at sight-seeing instead. With that creamy blue sky, and the almost balmy conditions, about twenty-five million Londoners decided to join us, perhaps only too aware that this may actually be the last gasp of what had been a glorious summer indeed.
We’ve seen pretty much all of the sights that one imagines one wants to see in the City, but for reasons that are not entirely clear, one of us despite having for the past few days ridden on the Underground almost constantly, being nearly skittled by Black Cabs and Red Buses, not to mention wandering round with a purse full of Pounds thought that we couldn’t be certain we were in London unless we’d seen Big Ben.
That in itself was no mean feat as the Old Boy and pretty much the entire Palace of Westminster Palace are hidden under a cloak of scaffolding at the moment. With that sorted, we strolled idly back towards the Tate Modern, smiling inwardly at the sunbathers, laughing at the buskers, and marvelling at the way our cleverphone (we’re sure it’s a notch up from smart) could find Matt and Kathy in a feat that was like finding two grains of sand on the beach. (Four grains if you count the kids.)
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