We’ve been noticing signs on the side of the road in Scotland, Wales and England advertising roads closed for the Tour of Britain for weeks but have not met them till today, their final stage like it was for us in Paris with Le Tour. We hired our own cycles from the city hire scheme and set off for our last stage, which because we are a little slower, will take a week. The Queen was still in bed when we passed Buckingham Palace and I don’t think she’d be too pleased with the number of people wandering around her yard. Westminster Abbey had a big queue so we headed through St James’s Park – I was in trouble from Sharon for riding in the Queen’s garden – then played a little Monopoly through Pall Mall, Mayfair and Bond Street. Into Marylebone, we stood outside a couple of houses Boswell lived in when in London. One is now a hair restoration clinic, the other the Polish Embassy! The hair clinic was around the corner from Harley Street. I wonder if they charge the same? Have to ask Warnie.
In Regent’s Park, at No 15 Cumberland Terrace, I stood outside the house Mary Lewis was nabbed for taking laundry that wasn’t hers. She certainly picked a nice area of town as the catalyst to begin her new life across the seas.
We found Cafe Lantana that Tom is planning to work at and it was very busy with tables full and a queue of 15 in the street waiting to get in. With dozens of other eateries nearby, it was a good sign. We got a couple of photos of the street for you, Tom.
We made our way to Covent Garden and wandered through the markets. We came across a bride about to enter the church. She looked anxious and was nervously adjusting her dress. She looked at me looking at her and I smiled and said, “You look lovely,” and she seemed to relax and said in her sweet English voice, “Oh, Thank you.”
We had a drink on a boat in the Thames and found another bike to ride home. The skies were heavy which soon developed into heavy rain for the ride back to Chelsea. Twenty kilometres and one day down!
I reckon we must have been in the same phone booth when we visited.
Like father like son?
That’s hilarious. Sam. We were on The Strand. Someone had pasted some pictures of some ladies in skimpy dress on the wall with their phone numbers. Was that the one?