The Harley Quinns and Disney Princesses are behind us. We won’t find ourselves on a train with Mario or Deadpool for a while. Comic Con is over. Our trip to London is over. It’s 7.25 in the evening and we’re in bed.
How did we spend the last day in London, though.
More fricking walking.
We started off with a plan to walk from Tower Hill to Kings Cross. Estimated time was 1 and a half hours. All good in the hood. And it took in the Gherkin and an art show Carole wanted to show her face at and St Pauls.
We didn’t, however, factor in stopping every five minutes to take pictures like fricking dweebs. But that’s what we did. So many shots of the Gherkin with different things in the foreground, a building that’s all pipes and metal (no idea but guessing expensive) and countless other things.
It was so stop-start that it took us probably an hour to do the 30 mins to St Pauls. I especially liked the part where I sat down for a minute on what Pokemon Go informed me was an award winning student art project.
It was a wall. We really will award prizes to students for ANYTHING nowadays so as not to hurt their feelings.
Oh then we got sidetracked by Postman’s Park and the 60-odd tiled tributes to heroic self-sacrifice in the Victorian era. A lot of them contain drowning, spoiler alert. The Victorians, it seems, we not big fans of learning to swim but, judging by some of the other memorials, enjoyed poisonous gas.
And even when we got to Kings Cross we tromped off to Old Pancras church to look at the Hardy tree and hope we didn’t subside into the old drains that are threatening to destroy the church.
It was like a tour of hidden nuggets of London that we’d seen in books or, in the case of the Hardy tree, an episode of New Tricks.
But that’s it.
No more walking.