DAY TWO, or breakfast breakfast breakfast.
I love breakfast, and it seems that London–in its heart–really gets that (and really gets me).
Breakfast at the Raison D’etre.
“What can I get for you, sweetie?” Sweetie? Me? This guy’s ridiculous.
“For you, sweetheart.” Thank you, darling.
He calls Mom Cleopatra. Am I in love with him? It’s hard to say. We have at least a decade between us, but what’s a decade when he can make hot chocolate like this:
“The Very Naughty,” indeed.
Things are all very French and sophisticated until my eggs fall on the floor. I cover them with my shoe before the waiter can see. Good thinking, Hil.
Double-decker bus. Mom and I are on the top level even though it’s freezing and raining. “I’ll mark down the places we want to go back to.” “Great idea.” “Do you have a pen?” No, do you?” “No…”
Thames River boat ride surrounded by a school group of French children. It turns out teens are teens are teens, no matter where they come from.
Tower of London. Okay, but really, can someone explain Henry VIII’s armor to me? CHILDREN SEE THIS.
Speaking of crown jewels. Hello!
(Also, photo cred here because I was waaaaay to embarrassed to take a photo of that.)
I didn’t realize I was on this trip to see diamonds, but yeah, it was the actual crown jewels that showed me I’m only in it for the stones. This is sounding very weird if you think I’m still talking about the armor. Get your head out of the Tudors’ gutter! I’m talking about the diamond rings and the sceptres and Queen Victoria’s little crown (that I think I really could wear every day).
They don’t allow you to take pictures of the Crown Jewels; it’s kind of nice to be told no photos or phones. I liked not having to worry about getting the perfect photo.
Dinner/lunch: fish and chips. Feeling right British, we are, we are.
Buckingham Palace coming in hot with breathtaking light. I’m not sure the house is much to look at without it. (Sarcasm.)