Today was one of those gorgeous winter-sunshine days that London turns on every now and then purely, I believe, just to prove to the rest of the world that they can have blue skies here. Still bitterly cold, though!
After church this morning, I wandered down Piccadilly to Fortnum and Mason where, if I had a spare 15 pounds, I could have purchased an oven-baked tarantula direct from Cambodia (True! I wouldn't lie to you about something like that!). Choosing to pass on the cooked creepy-crawlies, the scorpion vodka (sadly, also true!) and chocolate-coated ants (true, again!) on offer in their foodhall (think I'll stick with Harrods from now on!), I headed back out to the street, made my way past The Ritz Hotel, through Green Park, past Buckingham Palace, down The Mall and back to the tube station at Embankment.
Londoners and tourists alike were out enjoying the sunshine that you could actually feel, at the same time as the Arctic winds all the way to your bones.
It was such a great day out that I am choosing to block out all memory of my journey home, consisting of two trains and one over-crowded, slow-as-a-week-of-wet-Sundays bus, filled with noisy teenagers...
Bliss.
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