Sunday and Beyond

I woke up on Sunday feeling not so great, but I had already committed to going to Brunch with a "meet-up" group of 40+ singles here.  We met at a restaurant near my flat-- in Clerkenwell.  I was late because I could not find the place.  I still don't know how 45 Clerkenwell Road was two blocks from 42, but as one of the brunchers said, "Welcome to London."  There were four of us there--Allison, the planner, who works for a company that helps politicians become good government leaders (if only we had a company like that in the US), Coleen, who was in insurance and was one of the 9,000 people who actually live in "the city".  The city is the financial center of London and most of the buildings are offices.  It's pretty much a ghost town on weekends. The fourth was Nicky, a retired contractor--quite cheeky.  I told him he was kind of the micro-story of the Baby Boomers (he's 65).  He started out with his wife as hippies (even went to an ashram in India), then became a workaholic contractor, then retired and was wondering what he had missed out on by working all the time.  He is divorced.  He was a bit of a know-it-all about American politics--getting things sort of right, but losing all the nuance.  Interesting character.

Unfortunately, I spent the rest of the day in bed, trying to get rid of the cold.

Monday, I was determined to get out.  I went to the supermarket and then back to the British Museum, while I waited for the guided tour of the Inns of Court to begin.

I am amazed at the English version of security.  My bag was not checked at the door.  In fact, no one was at the door.  People just come in an out.  As I left, I saw three people leaving with suitcases--Middle Eastern people, who would be very suspect in the U.S.  I think it's great that you are not hassled.  On the other hand, I guess I have been taught to suspect everyone of being a terrorist.  Here they have been hit by terrorists many times from the IRA to Al Qaida, but they go about their business.

I had been on the Inns of Court tour before, but I remembered it fondly.  You travel through some of the most beautiful areas of the city, all the time hearing jokes about lawyers.  I guess I'm far enough away from it now not to be affected.  Here are some of the scenes

Our guide Shaughn pointed out a house that is believed to be the model for Charles Dickens Bleak House--a chambers where the famous fictional case of Jarndyce v. Jarndyce was handled.  That brings me to my favorite passage from any Dickens book (Dickens worked as a clerk in the Lincoln Inns):

"Scores of persons have deliriously found themselves made parties in Jarndyce and Jarndyce without knowing how or why; whole families have inherited legendary hatreds with the suit. The little plaintiff or defendant who was promised a new rocking-horse when Jarndyce and Jarndyce should be settled has grown up, possessed himself of a real horse, and trotted away into the other world. Fair wards of court have faded into mothers and grandmothers; a long procession of Chancellors has come in and gone out; the legion of bills in the suit have been transformed into mere bills of mortality; there are not three Jarndyces left upon the earth perhaps since old Tom Jarndyce in despair blew his brains out at a coffee-house in Chancery Lane; but Jarndyce and Jarndyce still drags its dreary length before the court, perennially hopeless."


Once again, the flowers were spectacular.  Roses....

 and flowering trees.

I'm beginning to think this is the best time to visit London.  There are fewer tourists than in the summer and the city is warm and beautiful.

Later on, I went to the airport to pick up  my friend Lynne.  She got in safe and sound.