playing tourist

 

It’s a glorious three-day weekend here in UK — I’ve always wanted to experience a Bank Holiday after reading about them for years and years — and I decided to play tourist.  Then quickly realized that  I did not, in fact, have enough money to be a tourist.

Things started quietly.  I spent Friday at the library being a good little researcher, then headed off to Bloomsbury for a talk at the London Review Bookshop.  I love the LRB — love getting it in the mail, love leafing through it, love it even when I don’t read it — and I can’t quite say why.  Part of me is sure it’s only nostalgia; part of me really does enjoy the articles.

In any case, I was on my way to see John Berger.  And what should have been a rather straightforward walk turned into something of an odyssey of wrong turns down wrong streets, but eventually I made it — and in good time.  Enough to wander around looking at books with John Berger.  It was a bit odd.  The talk was very full and very, very good.

I’m thinking of spending more of my lunch breaks there.

Then, on Saturday, I took a very long bus ride out to see Kensington Palace.  The weather was not ideal; neither was all the renovation work.  Ah, well.

A friend recommended that I try tea at the Orangery.  It was packed — but pretty delicious.  And probably the most expensive meal of my trip.

Today was the final stop on my tourist adventure — out to Spitalfields Market.  This was a pretty comical effort, since any chance I had, I took a wrong turn.  My sense of direction is unerring in its complete wrongness.  Needless to say, the journey took quite a bit longer than planned.  But I arrived and spent a good bit of time wandering through the stalls.

I also found my birthday bag — it’s a very spacious, compact little satchel with all kinds of flaps and pockets, just like I wanted.  It’s perfect.  As is my new scarf from TopShop.

Pretty nice, dontcha think?