London Day Three: “I’m Henry the Eighth I am. Henry the Eighth, I am I am.”

Hampton Court to Waterloo Station

Notes on Today, (because these here notes are working for me). See, I make notes during the day and post them here at night.


  • Jet lagged.  Ok this morning I woke up and felt that awesome hit-by-truck feeling. Somehow it kind of went away. That is a good thing.
  • Rash. Ok so occasionally and for years I have suffered from a lovely thing my dermatologist and I like to call, “Allergic Dermatitis.”  Any fellow sufferers out there will now that the itch is no fun. Thankfully for the British Pharmacy system. Dave and I walked into the pharmacy and came out with the best medicine ever. And seriously on the box it said, “This medicine is specifically used to treat allergic dermatitis.” What the what?  No doctor involved, and so far it has worked than anything I have used back home. Ah-hem.
  • Checking out of hotel: We left our lovely hotel, which was located just a few blocks from the British Museum. We were all sad, and worried it would be downhill. Alas, the new neighborhood rocks (see below), and the new hotel is equally good, if not better.
  • Texting Carrie at Hampton Court. Ok, so somehow there was wi-fi at Hampton Court. Knowing Henry VIII, I am sure he would not have it any other way.  And if one of his wives say protested the interest or was simply ugly it would be off with her head. Anyway, I was able to text Carrie at Hampton Court. She, herself, was in disbelief and asked if I had planned to run into our mutual friend, Robin. Here was my answer: “Yes, Carrie Poulsen, It was really she, Robin.” I still cannot believe I saw Robin and I am still tickled as a really good gluten free cake tastes on Father’s Day.
  • The Red Elk in Hotel Number One: I was thinking about the giant Red Elk statue that was sitting on a large ottoman in the lobby of our first hotel. Dave and I think it is the same Red Animal sculptor who made the giant stag we saw in the lobby of our Geneva hotel a couple of years ago.  What a fantastic gig that giant animal sculptor has, right?
  • BM is short for British Museum. Need I say more? I am glad I said this or perhaps you may think I am talking about something else.
  • Breakfast: While Dave ordered English breakfast at this lovely Italian café we think is owned by Greeks, Kyle and I ran back to the British Museum to see the Chinese Antiquities exhibit our friend recommended. The exhibit did not disappoint nor did the breakfast. In Dave’s own words, “It was a high quality breakfast. The bacon was good.”
  • Alarms at the BM: Ok so when Kyle and I were at the British Museum we went to enter the room where we thought we needed to be. Someone had set off the alarms. We were not sure what that meant. Was there a thief in the museum’s midst? We never found out.  We were not allowed in the room.  Kyle, my super guide, recalculated our route and we were on our way only to be stopped by someone who wanted me to take their picture. Of course I obliged. In the distance I noticed a film crew. Wait. Maybe that is what the alarms were about?  I would like to think it was. And in the room we could not enter, today I would like to think that Sting was inside.
  • Smurf Gummies: I found the Smurf Gummies and we all fought over Papa Smurf. There were so many Smurfettes, which seems kind of odd, because she was the only Girl Smurf I remember.
  • Resorting to headphones: Sometimes long trips require you to pull out your headphones and play some good music. Today was that day. My (current) Jam: Damian Rice’s whiny version of Radiohead’s “Creep,” Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, Robin Thicke’s, “Blurred Lines,” because no shame & KCRW’s “Sounds Eclectic” mixes (there are many albums), because a little mix is always good.Travel Tip #37: sometimes a day with headphones is exactly what you need. Namaste!
  • It started to rain while we were in the gardens at Hampton Court. Kyle had a “meltdown” (fake meltdown, that is) about how his Hampton-Court-Garden-Experience was ruined because it was no longer raining. We took cover in the Casear room (I am sure that is not its actual name) when the rain stopped. The kids were bickering, Dave was sour and I was grumpy. That is when I pulled out an old standard: The make-everyone-say-something-nice-about-every-person-in-our-family game and I did.
  • While looking for Dave’s mom, Dave called out to the wrong grandma.
  • Pigeon announcement at the Train Station: Wherever you go and if there are pigeons, I am sure there will always be an announcement about not feeding them. Todays’ Hampton-Court-Train-Station announcement also cautioned that we would become very sick if we touched one of those crazy rat birds.
  • Pret a Manger: We had dinner there and it’s not bad when you are in a hurry.
  • Arcade games: We used our London Pass to play arcade games. Really Dave and Eli played this really long alien shooter game, adding tokens when whomever lost all of their health. Then we play a game of crazy air hockey, which involved copious amounts of neon colored pucks.
  • Disadvantages of sitting close at the London Plays. As Dave stated, “The disadvantage of sitting in row 2 is that you can see the underwear of the entire cast.” Agreed.
  • The dudes rating the play were funny. I am talking about the three guys, who were walking up the stairs in front of me after the play. They were not only rating the play we saw tonight, they were rating all of the plays. I believe “The “Producers” was their favorite with a nine out of ten with “Book of Mormon, the Musical,” with a vacillating eight and a half to nine.
  • Our second hotel is in a great neighborhood. I think the neighborhood is called, “SoHo,” or better, “The West End.” We are apparently close to Coventry Street and after seeing, “Dirty Rotten Scoundrels,” tonight we walked through Covent Garden, which is supposed to be totes awesome. Dave just discovered that there is a Shake Shack in Covent Garden, which he plans on visiting tomorrow.
  • And speaking of both “Dirty Rotten Scoundrels,” and “Jersey Boys,” (the play my mother-in-law took us to ), I now feel completely comfortable taking the boys to see “Book of Mormon, the Musical.”
  • Overly cooked: that would be our boys.  Like a crazy revved up engine racing down the street, once in bed, they revved higher and would not stop. Once I stopped talking (ignored them), however, and turned off the lights, it took exactly  hree minutes for them to drop.  Huzzah!
  • In full competitive form Kyle is “fake” sleep talking tonight. I love my boys.

Goodnight. xo


2 thoughts on “London Day Three: “I’m Henry the Eighth I am. Henry the Eighth, I am I am.”

  1. Is it weird that I’m loving this personal travelogue so much?! 🙂

    I’m guessing that a few tubes of the magic dermatitis medicine should be added to your luggage. Love the Smurf gummies comment.

    Sting has been here in Chicago working on his musical, The Last Ship, so it’s unlikely that he was in that museum room. My neighbor went to a fundraiser preview and met him! I slapped her shoulder with a “What?!!!” when she showed me the pic!! OMG
    Gotta love music. My go- to is Barenaked Ladies.

  2. Andrea, this almost feels like a travelogue directly written to you. It kind of is 🙂 😉 I love that you are loving the persona travelogue. I agree about the medicine. Dave and I have already talked about it. Ha ha. Smurf gummies are yummy and made for hilarious conversation.

    I knew it would be something like that. Oh Sting! In my dreams, he was. Super jealous of your neighbor. Barenaked Ladies is always goo for a listen. Happy Day Four. It is coming up soon. Thanks again.

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