It's been a busy couple of days. Thanks to all for the responses to my first posts.
On Tuesday, we went to Notting Hill. Dad was looking for records (success), Mum was looking for Hugh (no success). Dad's navigational skills are truly appalling, so it took a little while to find Portobello Rd, but it was well worth it. I scored some fancy new duds, including a dinosaur raincoat. Sounds like I'll need it on my return to chilly Melbourne.
I went for a walk around town with Mum. I love the English wildlife (the English seem to love it too - more on that below). The birds, the ducks, the swans, the birds, the poor pelicans. Here's me about to run over a squirrel in Kensington Gardens.
The Queen has placed a bounty on my head.
On Tuesday evening I received a visit from my friends, who travelled all the way from Australia just to entertain me: Noah, Lozzie and Geoff, Nat and Aunty Lucie. Don't worry, I make them work hard for smiles ...
I was rapt to see everyone. We had a great dinner of pizza and donuts. The Heathrow injection strikes again.
On Wednesday, Dad took us to the docks so we could go to one of his favourite places in the world, Greenwich, the home of Greenwich Mean Time, the prime meridian, the old Naval College, the observatory, and King's and Queen's houses. I was so excited to be going:
Here's me on the ferry boat in front a Ben & Jerry's ice-cream hut.
The ferry ride on the river Thames was great. Here's me giving London Eye the eye. It's now the most popular tourist attraction in London. Perhaps they should build one in Melbourne.
I learnt lots, thanks to the entertaining commentary from the ferry captain. We passed under London Bridge, saw the candle monument to the Great Fire (which was apparently started by a candle in a butcher's shop) and cruised by landmarks including the Tower of London, Tate Modern and old markets.
When we arrived in Greenwich I had a quick kip in the pub. Then we went to the park. Here's me with a groundskeeper; the Queen's House and Canary Wharf are in the background.
On to the Royal Observatory. This is the place were you stand around and people with stocky calves observe you. My Pa Geoff could get a job here.
I'm still sick and snotty, and have developed a bad cough. As we were on top of a hill, I thought I'd practice my yodeling and screamed like never before. My mum said 'Wrong country, Lewis', then we ran down the hill as fast as possible to escape the angry mobs.
I needed a rest, so was happy to head home with Dad. Mum needed a rest too so decided not to follow. Go figure. Mum hopped off the train for (the supposedly happening neighbourhood) Shoreditch, leaving Dad at my mercy. First I threw things on the floor. The crowd loved it. Then when Dad picked me up, the 'booggee' (pram) fell over, giving me the opportunity to escape on hands and knees. I took it. What a maverick. After giving Dad a few compensatory cuddles to lull him into complacency, I poked people in the back and tried to grab their hair. I saved my finest work for the finale, however, when I spat my water over the seat and windows. Here's me and Dad on the tube in happier times, when I was devising my plan. Note the glint in my eye:
Mum couldn't find much in Shoreditch and surrounds. Indeed, her inner tourist has been frustrated recently. Kensington Palace was closed; the Saatchi Gallery was shut for a private function; and the lift was broken at the Queen's House in Greenwich. So no royal idol worship and no pickled sharks and soiled linen, then. Just as well really.
On Wednesday night, we enjoyed dinner with Noah, Loz and Geoff. Indian food made by real English Indians. It was delicious. I caught the bus home in my pyjamas and slept well.
I've noticed a few funny things in England. Melodramatic names are common:
The English also seem to embrace bestiality - they're very sympathetic to the animals involved:
Bodily functions are also cause for celebration, as tube stop names demonstrate: Tooting Bec, Tooting Broadway and (uncle Juzzy's favourite) Cockfosters.
That's all from me. Having fun, love to all.
Lewis
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