Do May showers still bring flowers?

This morning I allowed myself to sleep late, and it was perfect timing as the weather was dreary all day. It was a typical British day: cold with rain (sometimes that thin mist in which umbrellas cannot help) and wind. The only odd thing is that it is the end of May! Where is summer? I am dreading feeling the wet Mississippi heat in three days... After finally leaving the hotel, I went to a "laundrette", not a laundry-mat, for some clothes washing. I was very careful not to bring anything of value and watch my bag as closely as possible - I believe my camera was stolen in Florence while I was washing clothes - and it seems that everything made it back to the hotel with me.

With the weather so nasty, I just wanted to find a nice warm pub and have a meal that would warm me up, and, goodness, did I find one! Somewhere between Leicester Square, Piccadilly Circus and Covent Garden, I found (with the help of Rick Steves' London) a perfect spot. Cozy in a back corner, I order the steak and mushroom pie and a half pint of ale. Look how much food I accidentally ordered!

Regardless of the amount, this meal was delicious. It is hard to see in this picture, but the juicy part of the plate is a sort of puff pastry stuffed with steak, mushrooms and ale - just like a personal pot pie. One of the best parts is that the pie holds heat very well: while it took me a long time to eat this plate (NO I didn't eat it all!), the steak and pie was hot the entire time. Between it and the ale, I was completely warm and ready to venture back outside.

Tomorrow I am going to visit my family in Bristol. [Not sure if I have explained or not, but I studied in Bristol during the summer of 2006. I was hosted by a family with four girls: Martha, Megan, Harriet, and Milly. If my memory is correct, their ages then ranged from eleven to four, so that would be fifteen to eight now.] I want to bring the bring the girls something special, so after lunch today I went in search for one of the best candy shops in London. At Mrs. Kibble's Olde Sweet Shoppe I bought a variety of candies for them to share. Hopefully, they will enjoy them as a treat.

With that objective taken care of, I decided to check out Covent Garden Market. While still a market like those I visited yesterday, Covent Garden Market differed in many aspects. It reminded me a bit of the Galleria in Milan with its high glass ceilings. The market had a number of halls in which permanent stores are situated, and further back into the complex, a daily market sets up for temporary vendors. Parts of the week offer different wares: Saturdays are for arts and crafts. My favorite part, though, was the entertainment. Street performers were set up at the end of some of the halls and around the entrances. I listened to a guitarist play and sing Bob Dylan, a man balance a ladder on his head while dancing, and a comic show. Who knew all of London's performers reside in Covent Garden?

main entrance.

down one of the halls.

Once I had my fill of performers and crafts, I traveled to Bond Street to try shopping one more time while in Europe. There I walked up and down Oxford Street, which felt like the Times Square of New York without the flashing lights and converging streets. People were everywhere! Unfortunately, I was still too cheap to buy a thing. Well, I guess unfortunately for my wardrobe, but fortunately for my back account. Hah. Nonetheless, I trudged up and down the street, visiting shops like Mango and Zara, of course, but also Primark and Selfridges. The clothes are adorable but I am still not convinced - especially with the pound to dollar conversion. Oh, well. At least I know what is fashionable once I get back home to the dollar.

Though it doesn't sound like I accomplished much today, I was exhausted. I came back to a restaurant near the hotel and had a quick bite to eat. I've just finished packing for my trip tomorrow. I cannot believe I only have three days left!!!! The past forty-five days have gone by way too quickly. While I am excited to see my family and friends, I cannot honestly say that I am ready to come home. But I am getting ahead of myself. Bristol and the Dooleys, here I come!