The Queen Does Not Ask Me to Tea

The almost-final day

This has got to end: travelogues are not my genre (yes, I know: what is?), and I am eager to move on, to find a way to better follow Kominski's insight....

My final day in London, and I am off to a slow start: checking out of one hotel and into another. As I pack, I wonder about the things I've missed these last 2 weeks, but I am also content with what I have seen. I have, in fact, been astonishingly astonished every day.... Took the train to Victoria Station and walked to Buckingham Palace--what a bizarre sight! Hundreds of people were pushed against the Palace fence, all of them apparently hoping to catch a glimpse of something or someone. I am reminded of how people at zoos stare at the large cats and then collectively ooh and ahh when a tiger, say, licks its paw.

I wonder what the Queen thinks when she stares out a window. And the guards: do they stare back at everyone and wonder just what we're doing? Here are some of the people, some of the time: at the gates, away from the gates.



Still on foot, I try to navigate to Harrod's, though I find some difficulty in tracing my way across the map. Harrod's is, simply, a hoot: crowded and intense. Those people who are not at the Palace must be here. I do not know the official name of the area, but the architecture in this neighborhood differs greatly from Paddington--much more stone here.

I also visit a couple of museums, including the Albert and Victoria, which has some wonderful sculpture. Returning to my room by train, I rest for awhile in the advent of a slight head cold. Then, I make my way back to Hyde Park to enjoy a leisurely hike through the crowds. I walk by Kennsington Palace and discover Albert Hall (below)not long before I begin to feel somewhat feverish. I cannot, however, stop, for this is London, and London is in England, and I have not been here. I walk counter-clockwise back to where I entered the park on my first day.


By the time I return to my room, my feet and legs are very tired, and I am very tired. After cleaning up a bit, I walk to a small cafe', one with metal tables and plastic chairs, and a couple of guys working a grill, and I eat a greasy bacon burger and some fries--the type of food I have avoided for decades but which now is the best I have ever eaten. I trudge back to my room with the burger in my gut, and I watch the alley outside my room grow darker.