The Duncan family hit the city…
What we needed was a bit of time away from being www.duncancartoons.com and stop reading about amazing offers from Amazon on firstname.lastname@example.org and head for the fair city of London.
Cathy had got it all organised, which is her way, and it promised to be two days of delights. Breakfast at Beaconsfield Services, and a quick visit to the pharmacy for indigestion tablets. Parking in a car park that wasn’t near the hotel which was my fault because I cannot be corrected on London knowledge.
We walked the length of Oxford Street which was fun, and educational for Jamie, who was more interested in not stepping on the cracks in the pavements. Our little latter day Christopher Robin showed off the sort of energy I said goodbye to in about 1948, and kept us going at a heady pace. First stop Hamley’s, and I felt my Barclaycard trying to edge itself into the corner of a pocket where it would never be found. We saw some people making rock candy and tried some. We saw loads of Lego and bought a fire engine which broke Jamie’s budget. And some wacky speakers with bubbly water in them for Sam.
And just in time for a glass of wine before The Lion King. My sixth time and Jamie’s first. The fact that I knew exactly what was going to happen didn’t stop me from blubbing through the first ten minutes. Tim Rice and Elton John’s finest moment could be The Circle of Life, with all the truly brilliantly conceived animals heading towards Pride Rock from all directions, including down the aisles right next to us. Wow…
All followed by pizza, hotel, sleep of the just, and rescuing the car (and buggering up one of its alloy wheels) before driving to Westminster and the London Eye, where Jamie distinguished himself in usual style by pushing the emergency button and making the mighty wheel grind to a halt.
Onwards to the Tower (to see the poppies, not to have him locked up) and join the half million people who seemed to be gorping at this truly wonderful thing, tens of thousands of poppies in commemoration of our brave and patriotic boys, without even having to pay to get in. We did though, and it was just as crowded inside. One and a half hour queue to see the Crown Jewels so we didn’t. Bought postcards instead.
Tired but happy, as these sort of stories go, we returned to the car, drove away from the milling millions, and hit the A40 towards home. One Macdonalds happy meal later and we were back in our cosy cottage.
Time to relax, thank God that we didn’t live in London, and drink large glasses of wine as we examined the photo that the Eye had taken of us. Was it any good? Suffice to say the picture that accompanies this article isn’t that one.
Oh, and at some stage I drove them past where the display design agency I worked for in the 60s used to be. Pink flares, hair band, poncing around Mary Quant shops creating ultra trendy windows deep into the night. Gorgeous I was. Still am…