THURSDAY 11/8

 

WIW: striped shirt in muted shades of brown, grey, blue, red, and ochre, muted brown trousers.

WRW: light blue shirt, yellow dot and light blue paisley double-sided bow tie, navy sport coat, grey trousers.

 

Best Album Title of 2012: *She Was the Ferret’s Lunch*.  Richard read a newspaper story in some London tabloid about a fat old woman in a motorized wheelchair who was driving about, la dee dah, and a ferret came out of nowhere, jumped into her wheelchair, and started feasting on her leg (which I’m sure was meaty and succulent).  And the police couldn’t do anything about it, because even though the ferret was someone’s pet, by law a ferret is considered a wild animal.  You’d think this story was in the Onion, but it wasn’t.

 

We went to Starbucks for breakfast.  I would have preferred somewhere more local, but it was across the street and Richard was in a hurry.  He had coffee and a ham and cheese croissant, I had an eggnog coffee (never heard of such a thing, it was great) and a low-calorie lemon poppy seed muffin.

 

Richard went to work (his last day at the show), I went back to the hotel and channel surfed.  I was maxed out on CNN.  I came upon an episode of *Scooby Doo* - - it was the middle of the episode, so I was afraid I wouldn’t enjoy it, but I was able to follow the narrative.  I watched an episode of *Everybody Loves Raymond* that I had seen before.  And two episodes of *Frazier*, which I never got into when it was on - - I bet I’ve been six episodes total.  It was so funny!  One episode featured Derek Jacobi playing a hammy Shakespearean actor, that was something else.

 

I left the room at 10 AM with the plan of going to Kensington Palace, but was put off by the price of the tour - - fifteen pounds seemed like a lot to spend for a tour that I wasn’t sure was going to be such a big deal.  I walked through the park instead, which was a perfect idea - - it was a glorious autumn morning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I went back home and took a bath - - our room has a gorgeous bathtub, that was a treat.  I watched an English TV show called *Come Dine With Me*, where people have food critics over to their house for a meal, that was very funny.

 

A quick word about exercise - - there are lots of stairs in London.  Probably about the same as in New York, but I was more aware of them in London.  Also lots of escalators, and I chose more often than not to walk up the escalators, for the exercise.  I’m young and able-bodied, and I’ll get there sooner.  Plus I was eating like crazy on this trip, and didn’t want to put on too much weight.  It turns out I might have lost a pound or two.

 

I took the tube to Exmouth Market, a hip and trendy neighborhood.  My friends Paul and Annie and Paul’s sister Laura gave us lunch or dinner at Moro as a wedding gift - - it’s a restaurant that Paul and Annie like a lot.  This was our day to do that.  Richard was there before me, and had been there about a half hour.  Very cute place, nothing too fancy but very sharp.  Wonderful service.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

First course: Richard had the beets, I had a soup made of fava beans, potato, and sausage.  Incredible, the highlight of the meal. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Main course: Richard had the fish tagine, I had the Chilean sea bass.  They had a lamb dish that sounded interesting, but I don’t always like lamb.  We got a bottle of Spanish white wine.  And chocolate cake for dessert.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The whole meal was marvelous.  And we had the nicest couple sitting next to us, they offered to take our picture.  We said we were on our honeymoon, and that we were going to Paris next, and they were so envious.  They’ve been together twenty-five years, they said they hope we’ll be together that long and be as happy as they are.  I’ll be pleased if we’re still ambulatory and able to wipe ourselves.

 

They had the most beautiful cement tile in the bathroom, I took a picture of that. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They also had a collection of photos from the first night they were open, in the late 90s, and I swear one guy was Paul Stoller.  You only see him from behind, but it could totally be him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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