The Meliza Girls Do London - Part Deux

I met up with Lili and Shirley Friday morning in the World's Smallest Hotel Room (Which could only be topped by the included World's Smallest Bathroom.). After a brief Counsel of War to decide the Battle Plan for the day, we headed out to Russell Square to catch the bus.

The bus dropped us some distance from our first port of call (The Changing of the Guard), so we hoofed it to St. James Park via a somewhat circuitous route (I sort of went down the wrong road. Not to worry, we ended up in the right place. Eventually.). Lili assured us that Rick (As in Rick Steves.) said that at a particular point along The Mall we would have the best view of the horse guards, as well as the band and the regular guards. So we found a spot and waited. And waited. And waited.

Shirley and I were beginning to get suspicious. We saw no evidence of guards anywhere, changing or otherwise. We did see some horses in the distance but they vanished as quickly as they came leaving us wondering what exactly had been in our morning coffee. So while Lili waited at our perfect vantage point, Shirley and I headed for the Victoria Monument in front of the Palace to see what we could see.

What we saw was a bunch of workers blocking off all points as they engaged themselves in the building of... a stage???? Turns out Friday was the day the Olympic Torch got passed to the Brits and so there was this big concert right in front of the Palace to celebrate. In other words, no changing of the guard. Or at least not in any way that we could see it. After some enthusiastic discussion, we decided it didn't look like anything was going to happen so we should do something else.

By this time it was noon. Lili needed batteries, we all needed a loo, and I was getting hungry. So we strolled through St. James Park and found a lovely pub on the other side (After picking up batteries at the camera shop.). There was hardly a soul in the pub, so we found ourselves a table, used the loo, and began to peruse the menu. Only to be invaded moments later by the Lunch Rush. Instead of receiving our food in a reasonable time frame we found ourselves still sitting, sans food, 45 minutes later while our neighbours (who came in after us) not only received their food, but swallowed their food whole and were already on their way out the door.

Now a British woman would have politely sat at her table waiting for her food for however long it took. She would not complain. She would quietly eat her food and then leave. Once out of the pub she would call and complain to every person she knew.

I am not a British woman. I am an American woman. Even better, I am a Meliza. We do not take these things either quietly or sitting down. So I marched myself to the bar and very politely, yet firmly, demanded to know where our food was. The young girl behind the counter (Who looked all of 12.) snippily informed me that food took 20 to 30 minutes. I gave her A Look. "First off, we were never informed of that fact when we ordered," I informed her. "Secondly, we have been waiting over 45 minutes. The people next to us," I jabbed a finger in their general direction, "Were served more than 20 minutes ago. How long does it take to toast a sandwich?" In an amazing turn of events, our food arrived within seconds. Fancy that.

Hunger pangs at bay we headed down to Westminster Abbey. I must note here that Lili left out a very excellent story in her blog. When Lili went to take pictures of Westminster Abbey with her brand new batteries installed, her camera wouldn't work. It just wouldn't turn on. She tried and tried and not so much as a whir or beep. So we left Shirley to admire the grand edifice while Lili and I hurried back to the camera shop. Lili informed the guy she had just bought brand new batteries and they weren't working. He took her camera, opened it, and... wait for it... she had put one of the batteries in the wrong way. While I went into fits of hilarity, the guy turned the battery around and the camera worked just fine.

We made a new rule that day. Or rather, Lili did. From now on when things go awry, all three of us are to check it FIRST before we embarrass ourselves in front of guys at camera shops.

Onwards past the Abbey, past the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben. Down to the river and onto a boat for a fantastic river cruise. We sat up top. Which would have been great except it started raining. And Shirley didn't bring her umbrella. So it was a somewhat damp river cruise, but the tour guide was hilarious and somewhat better at identifying buildings than I am.

We hopped off at the Tower of London and I let the aunts go in while I waited in the nearby cafe armed with a latte and a good book. I saw the Tower last year with Becky and Jim and frankly £16 was a little rich for my blood. It's a really amazing place with a lot of history, but I was ok with skipping that part of the adventure.

After their tour we met up to do the Tower Bridge. I'd never been on the Bridge before. Frankly, the whole exhibit leaves much to be desired, but what an amazing view!

By the time we finished Tower Bridge I think we'd all about had it. Lili and Shirley declared the planned evening walking tour cancelled and we caught the tour bus back through the city to a spot near the hotel. We found a rather posh pub (That is, it didn't look like a tradition pub, more like a cafe. But it was definitely a pub.) for a bit of refreshment and relaxation.

By then it was about 7:30 and the aunts had 3 hours to kill before their train to Scotland. We headed over to the British Museum to check out some Really Big Egyptian Heads, naked Roman people, and Gigantic Bugs (Stone ones, that is.) before getting kicked out of the museum for the night. With nothing better to do since they'd rolled up the sidewalks on us, we found another pub to hang out in for awhile before I left the aunts to collect their baggage and I made my weary way home to my bed.

The evening was topped of by a message from Lili that their train was stuck in Aberdeen. No, they weren't being given tickets for another train, instead they were being squashed into a bus. And no, they weren't getting a refund. Oh the excitement of travelling in the UK. Hopefully they get things sorted, otherwise I shall encourage her to write a very Meliza-like letter to the manager of the railway. That oughta light some fires.

In the meantime, I'm looking forward to meeting up with them again next week in the Cotswolds for hiking, sight seeing, lots of cream teas, and a few zany adventures. Possibly some Enthusiastic Discussions, as well.