The End

Last day! We packed up the flat and assembled our gear before trundling it all down to Caledonian Road tube station for the last time. On of the features of this station was the choice between 134 steps and a single lift. On previous days we had braved the steps. Today we bundled our bags into the lift and got on a train for Kings Cross station, where we checked our bags in the left luggage.

Back on the tube, we got out at Russell Square and walked down to the British Museum. 

One last morning tea in the spectacular foyer and then a whirlwind tour through the collections, dodging groups of primary school children clutching class work sheets.

Thomas' favourites included the Rosetta Stone, which had exploded dramatically in a Rick Riordan book, but which was miraculously restored when we viewed it.

Eventually our museum brains filled up so we caught a double decker bus to marble arch, where we found a piece of Boris legacy in the form of a permanent ping pong table. 

We wandered on through Hyde Park, which was becoming misty as the afternoon closed in.

We crossed at Hyde Park Corner as the sun was setting. When we had first arrived in the UK the sun was setting at 3:30pm; today it set at 4:30pm, which felt late.

We walked on through the Wellington Arch into Green Park, trying to keep moving for as long as possible. 

More squirrels made an appearance and had to be photographed. 

Finally we ended up back on the tube at Green Park, heading for Kings Cross and our luggage.

There was just time for a quick stop off at our old friend, Patisserie Valerie...

 Before it was time to hop on the tube for the ride out to Heathrow and the long trip home.

Pomp and Circumstance

We had a bit of a sleep in this morning, but not too much because we had an appointment at Buckingham Palace at 11am. We caught the tube to Green Park and walked through the park with a slowly increasing tide of other tourists, all breathing condensation in the cold morning air and converging optimistically on the Victoria Memorial for the changing of the guard. We squished our way along until we were at the front of the guard rail near one of the two entrances and settled down to wait. 

The key features of the changing of the guard are people in bearskin hats and very serious looking grey coats shouting and stomping about while not actually moving very far and tourists packing into a very small space, all expressing surprise at the number of other tourists. Another key element is the very patient but dogged police officers shouting at seemingly endless stream of tourists who thought that standing in the entrance road would make viewing easier. We particularly enjoyed the performance of one mounted police woman who threatened to explode with suppressed frustration at one point. In the picture below, note the three people being asked very politely for the third time to get back behind the barrier.

After a while, the relief contingent of Coldstream Guards came marching down the Mall, complete with their own brass band. 

A detachment of Horse Guards also appeared, which Robert (who had google at hand) assured us was meant to happen, although they seemed to just wander about for a bit and then ride off. Wearing lovely jackets.

 

There was another half an hour of Guards shouting and stomping behind the black railings. For all that the Cold Stream Guards are properly armed and impressively picturesque, it was pretty clear that the serious front line protection stuff was actually provided by the  grimly professional looking armed police officers standing between us and the ceremony. They were not picturesque.

Things suddenly took a weird swerve when the brass band took up position in front of the palace and launched into the Star Trek theme, followed by the love theme from the original Superman movies and finished up with a snappy Tom Jones number. Whereupon they packed up their instruments and marched off back down the Mall.

Ceremony over, the throngs dissipated into the surrounding parks and we headed away from the palace into St James' Park. I should note that the Queen was not actually at home, being still at Sandringham where she and Phillip were apparently getting over a nasty cold. Still, nice to know people were keeping up the place in her absence. A bit like Cathryn watering our tomato plants, really.

We walked through the park, obeying orders being issued by Thomas who had become a Coldstream Guard. Until he spotted a squirrel and gave up the military for wildlife photography.



We spotted Whitehall across the partly frozen lake but veered across to Trafalgar Square.

We found more ice in the fountains and a cool statue on the fourth plinth by David Shrigley.

Standing outside the palace for so long had left us with frozen feet and red noses, so we huddled in the National Portrait Gallery with cake and tea for a while. Once warm, we had a quick peek in the church of St Martin in the Fields,  before heading to the National Gallery for a spot of culture. 

Thomas did some drawing in charcoal which managed to get everywhere, but at least he looked the part of an artist as we wandered through the rooms.

 After finding a bathroom to have a quick scrub, we ate our lunch sitting in the square with the pigeons, watching a rally against human rights abuses in Egypt.

From here we walked across to Leicester Square, where films often premier. A new lego store had just opened here, and there was a lengthy queue to get in which didn't seem like much fun, so we headed on to Covent Garden.

By this stage we were pretty tired. so we headed back to our little basement flat in Holloway, which  is starting to feel like home (we're the lower red door).

We constructed a last supper of all the remaining bits in the fridge before settling down to tackle our packing (which after six weeks had expanded a bit) and a final crack at Lego Indiana Jones on the PS3.