London was, is and probably always will be my favourite city.
Altough I have been visiting to and fro since the summer of -69, I feel I have barely scratched the surface.
My hairdresser equipped me with Andy Warhole styled hair, on a bad day that is. Our plane was five hours delayed and the tickets we had bought on the internet for "The Merchant of Venice" at the Globe, proved to be false (!!!!!) Nevertheless we had a wonderful trip, and will repeat it when opportunity knocks.
Theme of this trip was art galleries, Tate Modern, Salisbury wing at National, with Dutch portraits and the best; the Cortauld at Somerset House.
Shopping only for Serina and Gunnar had his uaual visit to Apple store.
Best thing was having ten Celcius degrees more to live and breathe in.
Woolen overcoats and thick underwear were stripped off. We went happily about in T-shirts.Add a slow boat to Greenwich, pubs of better qualities, night walks along the Bank, my usual fight with a cheap hotel owner, thundering travels on the Tube, I, me, on my own.
That largely summons up our five Londonian days. Hope next time St. Martin-In-The-Fields will be reopened.
I missed the Sunday service, the jazz in the crypt and a candlelight concert.
In return we got to celebrate the new milllenium with the Ethiopians at Trafalgar Square.
"But what have they done with the seven other years?" my mother asked.
