We started on our morning quite late, going down to James Street for croissants and coffee. Tasty. Then, just across the street to a North African dress shop with very tasteful dresses, where I persuaded Lin to buy one. As her makeup was less than perfect she forbids me from showing the picture, but it does look great on her.
We parted, with her assignment to do some food shopping, including the Port, which comes in a little flask, like cough syrup, labeled in white and identified as 18% alcohol. She also got cheese, pears, grapes, an apple, herring. Bizarre requests, I grant you. We agreed to meet at 4 PM at a restaurant in Soho, Satsuma.
I set off down Oxford Street eastward in the direction of the British Museum, discovering the London School of Tropical Medicine and Hygiene, a British Hot Dog vendor, London University and a very interesting museum that could only be tackled in a week. I did see the Living and Dying Exposition, with photos of shamans and healers and artifacts from the Kwakiutl and Haida Indians of the Northwest. The museum shop provided a brief inspiration, and led to a purchase. Off I headed to Motorbooks near Leicester Square and it was all that Lee said it would be. There were many books that I coveted, but held back on, as I will need to ship the books via the concierge or the luggage will be prohibitive. I left behind my British Museum netsuke purchase, but later recovered it. The museum was visited by hundreds of adorable school children in uniform and warrants at least 3 full days to explore. The bookstore was loaded with temptation. I ended up buying the Spitfire registration book after checking to be sure that “my” Spitfire, owned by Bill Greenwood, of Aspen, CO, was appropriately listed. It was. This book details every Spitfire ever built, with many pictures and supplementary data making it a reference for all time. I ignored reference books in Czech and Polish. I did pick up a little book on Marks I-V, the early Marks.
En route to Satsuma and a 4 PM rendezvous with Lin, I discovered Chinatown, and found the restaurant just as Linda arrived. It was excellent, again, from miso soup, through tempura and tempura ice cream. We then headed back to Motorbooks to recover the netsuke, and we dragged ourselves into a taxi for a long ride home. The route that I had walked was serpentine rather than straight, so I suspect I will have gained no weight today.
I am too tired to post this on LJ, but this port-sopped exhaustion is a happy one.
Tomorrow it will be a solo trip to the RAF Museum, Hendon, at Colindale tube, while Lin goes to the Ritz and the Reject China Shop. I will have to plot our dinner rendezvous in the morning, as I am feeling the fatigue of the Battle of Britain researches and a very long walk.