A trip to Tring

I took the train this week to Hertfordshire, 40 minutes north of London, where there are a handful of extremely picturesque villages, the Chiltern Hills, and an arts education school called Tring Park.  The weather was Keats’ “season of mists and mellow...

Madame Tussaud’s

Let’s face it.  I’ve come here so you don’t have to. The Madame Tussauds Wax Museum (featuring Scream and the Spirit of London ride) takes up a block on Marylebone Street. I’m here because I’m too chicken for the London Dungeon, which has...

Stuff for the sarcophagus

The British Museum has lost none of its charm since I was last there five years ago.  It still looks like the Parthenon plunked in the middle of Bloomsbury. I had made a resolution not to visit the gift shop until I had seen the Egyptian mummies and I kept it.  The...

Down the rabbit hole

We are half way to going home.  As I look at the crazy, funny, opinionated variety of blogs other people write on Open Salon, I realize that my postings from London, Wales and Oxford have mostly been a here’s the place, here’s what I think kind of thing,...

Oxford Miss

We went for the day to Oxford on Friday. Jonathan was to lunch with a scientist tangentially in his field and I was tangentially tagging along.  I had been there once in 1982, by myself for one night, having decided on a family visit to England (way after we lived...

A few ways London will remember me

No, we’re not going back to Canada yet.  It’s just pleasant to reflect upon the ways in which this great city will be affected by my presence. There was the stye incident.  As could be predicted with a rush-hour average of ten thousand people per...
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