Hold onto Your Hats! Isabel and RoseE Do London.

Yes, yes, I'm aware it's been over a week. But in my defense, it's been a whirlwind week. I celebrated Solar (Lunar New Year) in Chinatown with Jo, during which we ate Cadbury McFlurries . . .

. . . and watched some fireworks . . .

Then ISABEL CAME OVER TO PLAY FROM AMERICA!

And we went to explore London.

Look what we found!

First we found my hat, which I'd left at the Noel Coward theater. It is home safe, having spent a night or two in Lost Property at the stage door.

Look what else we found!

(Not a prop, by the way. This is a real honest-to-goodness derelict Police Public Call Box, an oddity standing on a street corner. The proprietor of the tourist shop alongside it doesn't sell Dr. Who anything, or appear to know what a TARDIS is, or to have ever noticed this odd thing in her life.)

Then we rode the London Eye, just to say we did.

Here I ride it.

We spent the ride plotting the perfect murder, so that was nice.

Tuesday we hit the Natural History and Science museums, where we saw many awesome things and Isabel lost her hat. But we found it among the precious gems. Hats are a precious commodity around here.

Then I took off on a road trip to Warwick Castle, which was very castley. 

They were having a late-Victorian weekend party, where I exchanged pleasantries with everyone who was anyone who was also a mannequin. (After riding the Eye, I was a little wary of the mannequins, but they were on their best behavior.)

And then I climbed to the top of the castle and screamed dialogue from Henry V into the deafening wind.

Then on to Worster, where I learned to play Nine Man's Morris . . .

. . . in this museum, which I really enjoyed although no one else did. 

It was a lot like travelling to the English Civil War with the Doctor.

Then on Friday there were wanderings around Kensington palace . . . 

Where Dr. C. borrowed a chair from Queen Victoria . . . 

. . . while I gate-crashed the Great Exhibition. 

Saturday, Isabel and I conducted a raid upon the Tower of London, where we discovered that our honorable ancestors "the rebels" stole this flag and hung it at West Point, where it remains to this day. 

Then we grabbed dinner alongside this study, some of whose contents may look familiar if you read the right books.

Here's a hint: it was in this pub.

Yesterday we dove into the labyrinthine expanse of Camden Market, which used to be a stable. For really, really big horses, apparently.

At the bottom of the market we found a tea shop that I am officially declaring THE ONE ABSOLUTE CANNOT-MISS EXPERIENCE OF LONDON. It is sort of called Harry's. It is impossibly, psychotically charming, all funky old furniture and lamp and lovely pots of lovely tea amidst the old stall partitions. 

And I once again indulged my taste for clothing that is wildly inappropriate for reasons that no one can really articulate.

Further adventures will be forthcoming when I'm not enjoying every possible moment of Adventures with Isabel.