the British Museum

Click to enlarge

Penny and our hostess Lizzie, a very busy actress, on our morning walk by the river.

 

We went to the very old pub nearby for lunch, and the bartender had an accent I recognized. Yes, this is Colin from Windsor, Ontario, studying drums in London. A lovely young man who asked me to send his love to Canada when I get home. And I will. He gave us a bottle of beer as a present when we left. "It might remind you of Sleeman's," he said. 

Off back to London, installed in Bloomsbury, quick, off to the British Museum, a treasure trove of everything on earth. Literally. Everything on earth - a history of everything made by man and woman from the dawn of time, free, of course, packed with people and fascinating things. Many mummies of all kinds.

No kidding.

Love this: Colossal Foot.

A copy of the Rosetta Stone.

Ah - the next pub, across the road - the Museum Tavern, one of the oldest pubs in London, opened in 1723, reconstructed in 1855. Karl Marx apparently had a drink or two here. I bet it was cheaper then.

Wandered looking for Virginia Woolf, found the London Review of Books bookstore, heaven, tried not to buy anything but I'll have to go back tomorrow. But I did buy a Guardian newspaper and sat in Russell Square reading and eating chocolate in the dusky light. After my day at Kew yesterday, I notice trees much more. These are very old plane trees.  

The view from my hotel window. This is the Penn Club, a Quaker hotel recommended by Juliet in Paris - and it's wonderful, very simple, quiet. I upgraded, though, since they offered me a room with bathroom, so this room is a very special and expensive treat. I've spent the last week camping with friends, am relishing tonight's solitude.