Time for another batch of vacation pictures, five months later. I am the world's greatest blogger. #1. Tops.
When we walked into the Churchill War Rooms—the elaborate bunker network from which he won the war—we ran into two university professors who were geeking the hell out about every doo-dad and desk tchotchke. If we hadn't followed them around for a while, we never would have learned that this weather report was changed to "Windy" during air raids.
Other favorites from the museum: the discovery of a long-hoarded sugar ration in a desk drawer, a map poked through with so many pushpins that it should have disintegrated by now, and the story of Smoky the Cat, to whom Churchill took a special fancy and occasionally buried under his papers by accident.
Why not just call me out by name, Churchill?
On our way to Hyde Park, just across the way, we took a detour on this side street. Is this Epcot? It's Epcot, right? Something about it just seems unfathomably British to me. And get a look at that carved doorframe. Good god.
Above: Zack is the cutest. Below: Victoria Fountain and super-moody clouds.
Most famous places I've beheld don't look as big as they do in pictures. Buckingham Palace, on the other hand, is much, much bigger than it looks in pictures.
Despite its giant size, Zack and I are ready to move in at any moment. You guys just let us know when you're ready, okay?
Really. We're ready. We're moving in. CALL US, HIGHNESSES.
Then we were off to Belgravia to hunt for the Upstairs, Downstairs house. (It's 165 Eaton Place on the show, but 65 Eaton Place in real life. Trust me, or trust the internet, who told me this bit of trivia.)
We got lost. Lost like big American dummies. Here's why: I've watched about half of the original series, but also watched the recent reboot before leaving on the trip. It never occurred to me that the reboot would film anywhere other than 65 Eaton Place, because without that house, WHAT IS THE POINT? Honestly. Well, eff 'em, because they did, and I had the image of the wrong house in my head as we searched. When we found 65 Eaton Place, I was convinced it was wrong. An hour later, we decided it was right. We took photos for all contingencies:
It's the house!
It's not the house!
Our Belgravian wandering was pretty to look at. We wish we'd stopped at The Antelope. And I was awful at recognizing houses twice in one day when I convinced myself I found the alley from the creepy Love Actually scene. You know the one.
... Yes. It is.
In the evening we saw The Mousetrap like the stodgy, aging British couple we wish we were. It was the first performance after the death of Richard Attenborough, who originated the role of Detective Sergeant Trotter, and the cast led the audience in a moment of silence. It was punctuated by several sniffles above stiff upper lips.
... and then we bought more wine and cheese-in-a-bag at Sainsbury's, watched Boomers, and called it a night. We are truly elderly at heart.
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