Hestia in London AGAIN

No, I haven't taken a tumble into the Thames and taken a snap on
the way down.  It's ART.

I've been looking forward to this, like a dog looks forward to a dropped sausage on the floor.  Positively SALIVATING to get to Lahndahn and immerse myself in the cultural delights that it has to offer.

But where to stay?

After a lengthy trawl through the city's accommodation providers we came across SACO and I tenatively asked them whether they had anything our budget in the self-catering sector.

They came up trumps with Think Earls Court. 

And here is.  It was never this tidy again.

Tiny dining/kitchen/sofa area with telly on the wall.  Perfectly serviceable!

Our bedroom - Sonshine had one exactly the same, only with an ensuite - he got the ensuite because it was further away from the living area.  Not that we had any wild and raucous moments while he was in bed or anything....

Nice little ensuite - and there was another bathroom just like this.  Sonshine had one to himself.  Actually we had one for Tartarus and his Unmentionable Bowel Habits.

Will and I in front of some of his paintings.  I'm his biggest fan.
Trying not to sound like Kathy Bates in Misery when I say that.

Tartarus and Sonshine were dragged kicking and screaming to lunch with my friends Will and Wendy.  Wendy, brought a skull with flashing eyes and a big bag of sweeties - so that was them BOTH won over in nanoseconds.

This is Will's artwork, he had an exhibition on at Atlantis Bookshop in London.  I am looking dishevelled because it was RAINING and my hair was reverting to its natural Mr Hyde state.  I did start off the day with make-up on.  Evidently not enough.  Yes, I am wearing jeans.

I have some images of the lovely Wendy - but none of them do her justice! 

We did a lot of wandering around over our few days there - we went and LOOKED at this, but Tartarus wouldn't spring for the fares.  Also did the Aquarium next door.  Took lots of photos of penguins swimming.  Bad, BAD photos of mainly empty stretches of pool, maybe the odd flipper....

On the Saturday I went to the UK Tarot Conference ON MY OWN.  Yes, the route was engraved upon my very soul - Earls Court to Kings Cross, Northern Line from KC to Old Street.....but I didn't realise that the usually reliable underground becomes schizo at the weekends and is a farking NIGHTMARE of closures.

This culminated in me realising that the Northern Line was no longer accessible from King's Cross as I pawed frantically at the barrier wondering if there was a Secret Way to get to the platform.  It was early on Saturday morning; I had heels on; I got a taxi.  By the time I arrived at the conference, I had MASSIVE sweat rings on my cotton jersey.  I now realise that there is a difference between an anti-persperant and a deoderant. Too late, too late.

And now we are back home.  London, our romance flickers on.  I love your restaurants (Byron in Kensington, a fab Lebanese place off the Earl's Court Road) and your museums (I made it to the British Museum where Sonshine declared it 'Not his sort of place' because there were no dinosaurs in it.  But me? I loved it.

Differences between London and Glasgow

1  Londoners wearing flip flops, bare feet and shorts.  Glasgow - boots, thick tights and hats
2 London underground man - jeans and no knickers.  Repulsive.  Glasgow - more likely to be several pairs of knickers.  It's cold here.
3  London - people drive like they are possessed - speeding, tooting, mounting the pavement..  Glasgow - people drive like, well, people.
4  London - people are friendly if you talk to them.  Glasgow - people talk to you whether you're being friendly or not.

Hope to get back to see the Tomb of the Unknown Craftsman by Grayson Perry before it closes in 2012!

And now I have returned, Cinderella-like and absolutely knackered, to the island.  Tartarus leaves to go back to sea tomorrow.  I iz comfort eating aleady.  Who will heat up my side of the bed?!