Divorce

Divorce!!

After three weeks living in each other’s pockets, it is time for a change. Kris wants to go shopping and John wants to do the British Museum. There is nothing else for it. We must part!!!

So, bidding a found adieu, we go our separate ways.

Kris went shopping and bought a dress. (that is her story, finish!)

John got drenched. The heavens opened while he was walking to the Museum after expertly managing The Tube trip. He also found that his brand new super doper jacket leaked in one arm. His jeans were wet, his shoes were full of water and he “just” missed the road to the British Museum. It was an easy day to get his 10,000 steps in as he did a fair bit of walking before he found the Museum. The street signage was to blame according to him, although he did manage to find a wee coffee establishment that he swears makes the best coffee in London.

On arriving at the museum, he finally found out he could put his bag into storage (one pound fifty please) although the information desk did not know what a bag drop was. “Oh, do you mean the Cloak Room?” NO, I don’t have a bloody cloak. Still, once divested of his wet bag next stop was the book shop. Over Christmas last, John had listened to a really neat podcast from the British Museum. “A History of the World in one hundred objects from the British Museum” or something like that. So, on buying the book, he was on a mission to see how many of the 100 items he could do in one day. He didn’t do too badly but wasn’t helped by the Museum not doing anything to point out the exhibits that were in the book/ podcast.

Off course the Rosetta stone was there, as were the Elgin marbles. John had a cool day wandering around the museum, poking his nose in here and there, looking for the strange and exotic. By the end of the day he felt he had given it a good nudge so back to the hotel in a crowded hot dank Tube to catch up with his wife. Highlights were the clock room and some of the ancient British exhibits.

Once dried out (it rained again on the way home) we walked the street looking for a meal place. Found a wee wine bar that served OK food but paid exorbitantly for possibly the worst wines we had on the whole trip. Seven pounds 50 each for a very average Pinot and Chard.

Oh well, it is London.