They're changing the guard at Buckingham Palace. Christopher Robin went down with Alice. (A. A. Milne)

Wednesday, July 7
London, Day 2
We were picked up at 7:30 am by Evan Evans Essential London half-day tour.
We went first to a large bus depot where passengers dispersed to their various tour buses. The last 2 collecting buses came in late, so we were delayed a bit. Our driver was Charlie and our guide was Richard. He was very clearly spoken and well-informed, full of all sorts of stories and history that makes such tours worth the time. This sightseeing tour included major sites in the West End and Westminster (which means "the monastery west of London"). We saw the Albert Memorial & the Royal Albert Hall,

the Houses of Parliament & Westminster Abbey,
and then the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace,

and ended up at Trafalgar Square, which like Piccadilly Circus we seem to keep coming back to - truly the heart of London.
We had booked a tour of the Tower of London on-line to dodge lineups. But decided that we had time to see St. Paul's Cathedral on the way. However, we had to eat first and a window of pastries caught my eye so we stopped long enough to indulge in plates of strawberry short cake with loads of whipped cream. Then we descended into at Charring Cross station, directly in front of the route 15 bus stop. I had pointed out that the bus was direct to both St. Paul's and the Tower, but Jan thought that the underground would be faster: the Northern line to one stop and the Central line to the Cathedral. Hah! I say, Hah!
Well, it was worth the trip. St. Paul's was magnificent and from certain vantage points the intersecting curving lines of the upper architecture were simply quite dizzying. Then there was the opulent iconography, and the carved and gilted woodwork and pillars, the wrought iron gateways, the marble statuary, and the memorials that stretch back beyond the great fire of 1666. Not only were nobles buried there, but also many of the great heroes and thinkers of various times. And a few of their wives. Funny how there are always so few women considered worthy of these memorials. But there were some and I intend to look them up in the book I bought there. After wandering awestruck by the intricacies of the mosaics arching high above us, I sat in the crypt at St. Paul's Cathedral waiting for Jan to come back from climbing the 257 stairs to the whisper gallery

and worrying a little bit that we would not have time for our tour of the Tower of London as planned. Tickets bought online were good for a week, so we could always go the next day. The tower closed at 5:30 and it was already after 3:00. Oh, well. I enjoyed the rest in that the tube had led us through several long walks underground on our route to get here.
When Jan came back, it turned out he had climbed all the way up to the top of the dome, outside!
We jumped into a London cab for the first time to get to the Tower of London too late for the last tour guided by a yeoman. I couldn't have kept up anyway. We quickly found ourselves in the audience for a simulation of soldiers practising with siege weapons prior to a battle with the Scots.
There was an enormous crossbow like weapon
and a thing that looked something like a catapult but was in fact a perrier. Men and women competed on teams to try to fling a (water)bomb the furthest by pulling on a rope and sitting down rapidly. I would have volunteered but they would have had a hell of a time getting me back up off my butt. Lots of fun to watch anyway.
Then up to the top of the walls we went, and into several towers where there were terrific signed and projected explanations and descriptions of the use and history of each space. We looked down into the rookery - amazing birds - and then visited the white tower to see an incredible exhibition of armour. That's where we found the staff starting to shut the place down, which caused us a bit of panic to get to the crown jewels. Wow! Totally did not expect the size of the glittering display of gem-encrusted crowns, septres, gold church and banquet pieces. Worth the visit for that alone.
But I was pooped by the time they were backing us out the gates. We walked along the river to Tower Bridge, up and this time onto the bus to Covent Garden.
Now I knew I was in a theatre district, with restaurants offering pre-theatre specials. I stepped into one to ask if they could manage a special before our 8 o'clock curtain for Oliver. "I thought that was at 7:30," she said. More panic as we raced around the corner to find that she was correct and that Jan did not know where he had put our tickets. Fortunately, once again we found that the staff at the box office were terrific in trying to trace our Leiscester Square discount tickets (which were back at the hotel buried in our pile of receipts). Just before curtain they seated us for what was a wonderful remount of the original musical.
The cast was excellent down to the smallest waif on the huge stage, and the production itself moved along seamlessly. Had a ball, and I am still singing and humming the songs. However, our 1988 high school Fagan, Gord Rand, would have given them a run for their money.

We were starving by the time the curtain came down, but it was still early enough to walk into Covent Garden Market and have a delicious late dinner at Fuel al fresco. The waitress warned me not to hang my bag on the back of my chair when Jan went off to a nearby ATM. Said that there were thieves around there. Jan saw a drunk pissing in a doorway, but otherwise all we saw were lots of people of every age and description eating and drinking and having a great time together. As we did.
Piccadilly Line, change at Earl's Court
(where Jan took pics of the complex wiring and connections that had me expecting undercover to leap out of the woodwork at any moment), and home to the Ibis and to bed. Well, hold on - we might have stopped at the pub. We did stop one night when they were projecting a game between the Netherlands and Spain. But that was another night, I think.