london vs. iliescu: day 2

monday, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

The sun came out following a chat with mom the previous day, and also decided to stay for longer. We had breakfast early and headed, a bit rushed, towards Horse Guard Parade, something we hadn't seen either. We arrived at the same time with the change of guard and hurried across the Whitehall Palace square to catch every bit of it.

No one ran, but mom. She even left her coat behind to move more easily! I had finally convinced everyone to wear winter clothes, so I stayed in the back quite happily and tried to spot different things, like the photo above, already dearly loved. Meanwhile, mom convinced a policewoman to be photographed with her, spotted a rainbow, and got everyone overly excited.

My sister came for a quiet smoke, spotting the guard recruiter in the crowd, and my father waited in line for a chance to use the family camera. We then walked through the arch, considered going back to Trafalgar Square and ended up taking the other direction for a peak at No. 10. My love kept an eye at the clock and it so happened that we arrived at Big Ben just in time to hear it chime noontime.

Afterwards we had a simple lunch (sandwiches, no banger and mash, thank you) in one of the many Red Lion pubs in the area, so all three of them warmed up and even survived their first encounter with an ale, Bombardier. My father went as far as to say he would drink beer as often as mom if it tasted and behaved like that ale.

My father had also had the pleasure of being in a photo with a bobby who obliged and made faces, so mom instantly caught his arm for her own photo. It worked! Twice. And then we met him again after we left the pub to cross St. James's Park and make our way to the new (only here something new could come from the sixties) Scotland Yard building.

On the way back to the park we grabbed hot chocolates and coffees from Pret, first because the wind was killing us, and secondly because Pret is the only valid option (for food and coffee) at departures on Luton Airport and I wanted them to get to know each other. And then, entering the park for the second time, an older man was feeding squirrels.

That was it. My sister begged for peanuts and the seemingly grumpy man was happy to share. Then everybody started feeding squirrels to the point where a braver one climbed unfelt on my mothers back and popped on her shoulder, nosy and presumably hungry. Before we could snap photos, pigeons followed her, and my mom was hysterical with laughter.

We were only killing some time before the next stop, still a surprise for the three of them: tea at The Wolseley—incidentally, the name of a chap with a statue at Whitehall Palace, which we dutifully pointed out earlier that day. Of course, walking around Piccadilly Road and Bond Street paid off in terms of Christmas decorations, as it does every year.

We recovered from tea with a further walk around the area, more photos, and a pint at some other Red Lion pub. Though mom needed a brandy by that point. Then we walked even more, to Piccadilly Circus and The London Palladium, where my parents didn't seem impressed with the Sound of Music posters. But it was too late, tickets were bought.

A cab ride home and a dinner later, everyone was bust and for good reason. Night night!