Day 2 and Places 2, 3 & 4: Harrods, Knightsbridge, Hyde Park

Last night there were naps, then midnight snacks, and an accidental alarm for regular non-vacation-days at 7:30AM. GAH. Then I burned the pretty almond croissants trying to figure out the toaster oven. Sad breakfast.

Still, we tried to handle our jet lag with "Ooooh!-Ahhhhhs!" and forced marches. First, a bit of a Rick Steves' walking tour that began on the Westminster bridge and encompassed all the sights of Whitehall until we were so hungry we could walk no more.

Then off on the pilgrimage, to Place #2 where,  "The flying saucer in which Ford Prefect had stowed away had stunned the world. Finally there was no doubt, no possibility of mistake...It had come down with a wonderful disregard for anything beneath it and crushed a large area of some of the most expensive real estate in the world, including much of Harrods."

Don't worry, it has been perfectly restored:

We walked all the way to Harrods from Trafalgar Square, some of that along Hyde park, where, "for a total of three days and nights the giant silver robot stood in stunned amazement straddling the remains of Knightsbridge, swaying slightly and trying to work out a number of things." 

As a result, there are still particularly out of place looking buildings in Knightsbridge, Place #3, that may in fact be repurposed bits of giant straddling robots. "Bits" that even the people of England "voted number eight in a Country Life poll of Britain's "top ten eyesores"" and wish would go away (http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hyde_Park_Barracks,_London) because it just spoils the fact that "Hyde Park is stunning. Everything about it is stunning except for the rubbish on Monday mornings."

In early March, Place #4 was windy and cold. Our brisk walking allowed us to ignore any litter and instead focus on the budding crocuses, daffodils, and this:

The memorial was created for Albert, Prince Consort, in the spirit of appreciating all great men who serve. For me, it was a quiet moment to reflect on the burial of Leonard Nimoy, and all the great people who have seen their last sunset, and will never again have an opportunity to serve their fellow humans in small ways, let alone be beloved of a queen and gilded for posterity.

And with that, the memorial in Hyde Park was a reminder that whether to entertain, teach, or govern; whether to make art, be a patron, or simply listen, we can all find ways to serve ourselves and our fellow humans. 

Even if it's silly, get out and find your way. It's Monday. Pretend you're covered in gold and the glow of a setting sun. Go make the world a bit better.