We started this family blog when I was pregnant with Maya in 2012. This trip to London predates that, though not by much. This text is by and large lifted from our Hungry Engineer blog, though I’ve taken the liberty of adding more photos this time around.

In late May, early June of 2011, Sean and I headed out to London for a couple weeks. We took a few side trips, but generally, we spent the majority of our two weeks hunkered down in London, taking in the sites and tooling around the town. We utilized the services of HomeAway and booked an apartment for the duration of our two week stay. The apartment was small, but functional and very conveniently located near the Elephant and Castle tube station. Amusingly, we were repeatedly told we were not staying in the nicest part of town. I will say, the crowd was young and the sounds of revelry often nudged their way in through our windows, but I never for a moment felt unsafe.

Everyone has heard time and again how awful British food once was and how it’s much better now. I cannot attest to the former, but I can say that we had no trouble finding a delicious meal during our stay in London.

Since we had rented the apartment, we had a small refrigerator that we could keep stocked to accommodate our tourist-random schedule. Periodically, throughout our two week stay, we’d wander over to the grocery store across the street and grab drinks, bread, cold cuts, and various random food items that we wouldn’t typically find on our American store shelves. The refrigerator also enabled us to pick up random perishable goods at different markets (Marks & Spencer, Neal’s Yard Dairy) to be consumed as it suited us rather than immediately.

Day 1 – Arrival in London

22 May 2011 – Those of you who travel overseas often will understand what I mean by jet lag. We left Austin at 4 in the afternoon and arrived in London around 10 the next morning. The idea is that you sleep a bit on the plane. Unfortunately, neither of us managed to catch even the tiniest hint of rest. We creaked and groaned as we deplaned and made our way through customs at Heathrow. There were a few tiny bumps and snags, but we made it to our apartment and met the very organized and quietly kind woman from whom we’d rented the apartment. Keys were doled out, pleasant words were exchanged, and we both fell blissfully – but against all advice – asleep.

After an all too brief nap, we wandered out to a Carphone Warehouse to arrange for a local pay-as-you-go cell phone so we’d have a relatively inexpensive means of communication while we were in London. The process was painless and proved handy. For about the same amount of money as it would have cost to convert one of our phones, we purchased an inexpensive cell phone and several hundred minutes.

We headed out to the Waterloo Bar + Grill and had an absolutely wonderful dinner. Despite our bloggerly leanings at the time, we elected to treat ourselves to this first meal without the nagging need to properly photograph it. The decision was a good one. It gave both of us a chance to relax a bit and treat our tired selves to excellent food without an agenda. We took a nighttime stroll down to the South Bank of the Thames and saw the iconic London Eye and of course Big Ben and Parliament. And wouldn’t you just know it – like the silly Americans we are, we were Chevy Chase-ing with implacable glee.

Day 2 – Trafalgar Square, National Gallery, Covent Garden, Millennium Bridge

23 May 2011 – The next day, now fully rested, we stocked up our tiny refrigerator and medicine cabinet with groceries. Because we have no idea how to relax, we barreled straight away to Trafalgar square. We couldn’t have asked for a prettier day. The sky was ridiculously blue, and the temperature was 30-40 Fahrenheit degrees cooler than what we had been wallowing in back home. In fact, the cooler days coupled with the gusty breezes made these two sort-of-Texans hunt down some jackets.

Trafalgar square was, of course, beautiful. We saw Nelson’s column, an Olympics countdown clock, an arty ship in a giant bottle, and more tourists than I know what to do with. (I get it, I’m part of the problem here, but I cannot help my antisocial leanings.) After a thorough tour of the square, we took a lengthy stroll through St James Park, gawking at beautifully arranged gardens and all manner of waterfowl.

After our very pleasant stroll under a sun that in Texas would’ve been punishing rather that soul-warming, we decided that we could probably handle a proper tourist attraction. We made our way over to Westminster Abbey. We walked all around, admiring its ornate exterior. Upon noticing the ridiculous lines though, we hatched a new plan. We would hit the popular tourist attractions first thing in the morning and shift to less popular affairs (museums and such) in the afternoons.

With that, we headed over to the National Gallery, and spent several blissful and oddly uncrowded hours gawking at Van Goghs and Monets and Cezannes and a lonely but lovely Vermeer. Every time I visit an art museum, I am struck by the same thought: I wish I understood well enough the artist’s societal and/or personal context and the mastery of a given skill or school of practice to properly appreciate what I’m looking at. Either way, I think Sean and I had a good time.

We puttered around Covent Garden, watching street performers doing impossible things and seeing musicians taunt/serenade would-be covert lovers. Given Sean’s cocktail research over the last several months, we thought it would be interesting to make a jaunt over to the American Bar at the Savoy. Regardless of being neatly dressed in button-down shirts and non-tattered jeans and dark leather lace-up shoes, we were denied access based on our “sports attire.” Regardless, we were told, the bar was full.

Deciding we were really more hungry than in need of cocktails, we headed over to a nearby Wagamama for lovely elderflower sodas and big bowls of comforting udon noodles. As an added bonus, they didn’t seem to give two shits about our “sports attire.”

One of my favorite London experiences was our lengthy walk that evening. We didn’t really have a clear picture of where we were going, beyond to see the Millennium Bridge at night. The whole walk was incredible though. London is oozing so much history and culture, it’s almost blase. To us though, with our two hundred-ish year old country, it’s beyond incredible.

A quiet, late-night stroll netted us the Southwark Cathedral (at least its exterior), the Rose Window of the ruins of the Winchester Palace, and some ornate old English galleon (a replica of the Golden Hinde, a ship known for circling the globe between 1577 and 1580) that (probably because we absolutely weren’t expecting it) seemed completely random.

We wandered long enough that we were hungry again and split a beef and stilton pasty from a stall in a tube stop. I can’t even describe how perfect it was.

Day 3 – Tower of London, Tower Bridge

24 May 2011 – The next day, we decided to go full-on tourist mode and headed out to the Tower of London. You hear about all these things so often from beyond the great blue ocean that they almost become worn and trite. My advice would be to drop the preconceptions and embrace the fact that the history is fascinating.

At the urging of several guide books, upon arriving at the Tower of London, we headed straight to the crown jewels. I couldn’t not have made it plainer to Sean that we were going for him and that I couldn’t possibly care less about some rich family’s overwrought jewelry. I was wrong. It was impressive. Intricate crowns, huge diamonds and sapphires, and ornate dinner things were all laid out for us to see.

After visiting the jewels, we spent several hours wandering around various towers and walkways reading information placards and forgetting half of what we read almost immediately.

Feeling a bit peckish, we decided to see what was on offer at the Tower cafe. We shared a sausage roll and some chips (read: fries), and they were startlingly tasty. Fellow Americans take note: food served at national attractions can be more than just a means to an end – it can actually be enjoyable.

After checking out the Tower Bridge, we wandered around some more, sort of unwinding from our busy day. For dinner, we dropped into the Marks and Spencer store and picked up some bread, a lovely selection of Italian cured meats, and a slab of very pretty English blue cheese, called Blacksticks Blue.

Our European experience for the evening was taking a crack at using our washing machine. We were warned that it was only half-size … half of what, I’m not certain. It was tiny. I’m sure as an American, I’m spoiled by our ability to spread out and take up space. London is, on the other hand, on a smallish island filled with a huge number of people. As it was, we were each able to fit about one change of clothes into it. It was late when we started our little load of laundry. For such a diminutive appliance, it made an incredible racket. The spin cycle was set at 1200 RPM, and I’d have sworn there was a helicopter landing in our room.

Day 4 – Westminster Abbey, Battersea Power Station, Our First British Pub, and the London Eye

25 May 2011 – Westminster Abbey was our target the next morning. Sadly, we weren’t allowed to photograph the inside, because the abbey itself was incredible. No surface was left unadorned. It was honestly difficult to take it all in. I am not a religious person, but the notion that these sorts of things were “built to God’s glory” seems more prominent here than in any of the small local churches I attended while growing up.

One of the most interesting things were the graves and monuments. Westminster Abbey has a whole host of famous corpses. Among them are Sir Isaac Newton, Charles Darwin (!), Joule and Faraday. There were more authors than I’ll ever remember – Lewis Carroll, CS Lewis, TS Eliot, Thomas Hardy, and on and on. Somehow, even Laurence Olivier got himself buried in the Abbey.

Next, we trundled over to Chelsea Physic Garden. It was small but pleasant enough. The pharmaceutical garden and the small room housing carnivorous plants were favorites. From there, we headed to the river and walked a portion of the Thames Path to see Battersea Power Station.

Then we headed to the Guinea to have our first actual pints. I had the Young’s Bitters which were pleasant enough, but Sean had the seasonal special, whatever it was called, and it was glorious. The pubs were initially a bit confusing to us. We’d walk up to a random pub and see people spilling out into the streets, beers in hand. I am notoriously crowd-averse, so we had been avoiding them. We learned two important things though. First, just because the streets are full of people, doesn’t mean the inside is overcrowded. Second, the fine weather we were experiencing is a rare and short-lived thing. No Londoner wants to be sitting inside a dark pub on a day like that, hence beer in the streets.

Though we were a little early (it was only 6!) we decided to stop in at Polpo for dinner. It’s a good thing we did. We had no reservation and within a few short minutes of having been seated, the place filled to capacity, and by the time we left, it was overflowing with interested patrons. Polpo models itself loosely after a Venetian bacaro. A bacaro is essentially a Venetian bar, usually offering drinks and local traditional snacks. From my not-terribly-worldly-wise perspective, Polpo seemed rather like a highly refined Italian version of a tapas bar. Despite somewhat mixed reviews, I was eager to try it. Plus, though we didn’t partake, they have a Campari bar. How cool is that?

We started our fun and highly toothsome dinner with toast with lardo and white truffle honey. Despite my affinity for pork and my willingness to sample nearly any culinary curiosity, I had never had it before. Lardo is essentially cured pig fat, usually served sliced very thin atop warm bread, the heat from the bread slightly melting the fat. This is exactly the effect that Polpo achieved with their serving of lardo. The drizzling of light, fragrant honey was a beautiful pairing with the rich, herby fat.

Next we were served mackerel tartare with horseradish. Uchi, an Austin sushi institution, has taught me to love mackerel. Polpo showed me that that love was intercontinental. The dish was well-seasoned and nicely executed; believe it or not, the chef had enough restraint with the horseradish that it complemented rather than overpowered the fish.

The courses kept coming. A vegetable side of roasted asparagus with anchovy butter and hard Italian cheese came out. The uber-savory anchovy butter was perfect alongside the plump stalks of slightly firm asparagus. We had cuttlefish and ink gnocchi, a tar-black dish that we haven’t had the pleasure of eating since rambling along the Ligurian coast during a trip to Italy several years ago. It was everything I hoped for. We shared a rabbit terrine served with what looked to be a mostardo. Again, the execution was perfect. Fatty, slightly loose terrine was, if memory serves, dotted with little bits of fruit.

We couldn’t decide between desserts, so we shared two, a flourless orange and almond cake with mascarpone and a ricotta and chocolate crumble. Both of these were exactly my kind of dessert: rather atypically flavored and not overly sweet.

After we finished at Polpo, we rode the London Eye as close to nighttime as we were able. At this relatively northern latitude, the summer days are very long indeed. It was full-on daylight bright at 5 in the morning and the sky was only just darkening at 9 at night, so near 9pm ride was actually fairly bright.

Day 5 – Salisbury Cathedral, Stonehenge

26 May 2011 – The next day, we got out of town. Our intended destination was Stonehenge, but we decided to head out to Salisbury early so we could wander around town a bit before our tour started. After an easy train ride, we walked a short path to take photos of the Salisbury Cathedral across a sheep-strewn field. A light rain began to fall and a strong wind began to blow. It was shortly thereafter that we discovered our lightweight umbrellas (purchased specifically for this trip – there were previously no umbrellas in our house) were nigh on useless.

A kindly gentleman chatted with us a few minutes about the llama that used to live there to keep foxes away. I asked him if it had worked. He shrugged, grinned, and told me he didn’t know, but that he believed anything he was told so we shouldn’t necessarily listen to him. We wandered back into town and had a relatively cost-effective and reasonably tasty lunch at the Old Mill restaurant.

We still had some time to kill before our Stonehenge tour, so we went inside the Salisbury Cathedral. The church was smaller, but very pretty. And, we discovered after we got there, it had a very well preserved page from the Magna Carta on display. From Salisbury, we met up with our Stonehenge tour group and the best of guides, Pat Shelley (my old link didn’t work – I think he may be here now in 2026).

He drove us to Woodhenge and explained how Stonehenge isn’t actually a henge at all. He showed us the Cursus and the barrows (burial mounds). And he eventually walked us up the original avenue that would have been used in Stonehenge’s heyday to get a mounting and theatrical view of the stones as travelers crested the hill.

He filled us with more information than I could even pretend to remember. We were allowed to traipse around among the stones (so long as we in no way touched them as they’re covered with a sizable quantity of species of lichen, many of which are quite rare). During our Stonehenge experience, I was rained on, windswept, and very nearly frozen to the core, and I would still say that tour was one of the highlights of our trip.

Day 6 – Borough Market, The Monument, Tate Modern

27 May 2011 – The week was winding down and we were wearing out, so we took the next morning easy. Around midday, we decided to head over the Borough Market to browse the stalls and fill up for lunch. We had a delicious chorizo, piquillo pepper, and rocket sandwich courtesy of Brindisa. We had some delicious gnocchi and pesto sauce from a small Italian booth specializing in fresh pastas, and Sean wrapped it up by having a very dense, rich brownie. All told, we enjoyed a highly satisfying lunch.

We had sort of had our fill of cathedrals for a bit, so instead, we decided to head over to The Monument. The Monument was built as a memorial to the people and buildings destroyed in the Great London Fire of 1666. We walked up its many spiraling steps (311) to get up to the viewing platform to see a wonderful panorama of the city. it’s an open air platform, and you’re essentially protected from plummeting to your death by a metal rail and some wire meshing that rather reminded me of chicken wire.

The views really were incredible and after we caught our breath, cooled off a bit, and took our fill of pictures, we headed back down to the bottom where we were each awarded a certificate for our trouble.

Even on our easy day, we couldn’t sit still, so we headed next to Tate Modern. It stays open a bit later on Friday, so even though it was already late in the day, we had plenty of time to wander the galleries at our leisure. We saw Picassos, Dalis, Pollacks, and Monet’s Water Lilies. We saw some truly fascinating photography exhibits. It was well past nine by the time we were through.

I don’t think either of us realized how much our daily rhythm was synchronized to the movement of the sun. It often didn’t occur to us to start looking for dinner till after dark. It was well past 9 when we left the museum, and many of our eating options were shut for the night. We knew of at least one place that would be open though – Fryer’s Delight. It’s supposed to be a cabbies’ favorite for fish and chips. I don’t know about all that, but we certainly enjoyed it. The chips especially were incredible – Sean was particularly enamored with the less-sweet-more-vinegary catsup they were served with. Our fish was fresh (I had cod, Sean had haddock) and the breading crispy.

Day 7 – St Paul’s Cathedral, Neal’s Yard, St John

28 May 2011 – We started our anniversary morning at St Paul’s Cathedral. I will not lie; our cathedral experiences were starting to feel a little redundant. That said, each that we visited was also radically different. For instance, St Paul’s lets the light in much more so than Westminster Abbey, and consequently, there was a bright, airy feel to the place rather than the more somber mood of the Abbey. That said, its list of famous corpses was much smaller. William Blake is laid to rest there as well as Christopher Wren. We climbed to the top of this one too and saw the view of the city from the top viewing platform of the cathedral.

We had an incredible lunch at Yalla Yalla. This place serves Beirut street food, and it was actually (if you can believe this) recommended in one of our guidebooks. The Wardour Street area is apparently known for its excellent variety of international cuisine, and while it probably would have been wiser of us to wander around and choose a place that interested us, I couldn’t help but have a plan in place. Yalla Yalla (which my Jordanian friend tells me means “let’s go, let’s go!”), was full of wonderful items to sample. I could have eaten there several times and not gotten to try everything that caught my eye. The place was incredibly tiny, and we felt a little gawky and out of place blocking traffic while we waited for a table to clear.

We enjoyed wraps filled with chicken shawarma for Sean and lamb kofta for me. We tested out a lamb and pomegranate topped flatbread called sfiha. But our favorite thing by far was a humble dish of potatoes called Batata Harra. Our friend Laura thought we were hilarious because we had eaten all this great stuff, and all we could keep gushing about was this bowl of potatoes.

Our intention had been to go to the Photographers Museum after this, however, when we got over there, we found that it was undergoing a major restoration and wouldn’t be open again till later on this year.

Instead, we headed over to Neal’s Yard so Sean could snap some photos and so I could visit Neal’s Yard Dairy. Just walking into the cheese shop, we were overwhelmed by the aroma of cheese. As we headed in, several young girls came rushing out, noses pinched between thumb and forefinger. After a few short minutes, a cheese monger took our indecisive and uneducated selves under his care and guided us through a tasting of a handful of remarkable local cheeses. We left with small wedges of three gorgeous cheeses and a sense of accomplishment.

Our afternoon of dining and nibbling had left us a bit on the full side for our main attraction that evening – St John. I had been prattling on about eating at Fergus Henderson’s restaurant from the moment we began thinking of taking a trip to London. The restaurant did not disappoint.

Housed in what used to be a smokehouse, St John has whitewashed walls and is spare in decor. We were seated at communal tables and served by polite but succinctly efficient waitstaff. I could not have been happier. There was no fuss, no dinner theatre … I’m not even sure there was garnish – just plate after plate of locally sourced, decidedly British, perfectly-prepared food.

We started with the bone marrow with parsley salad, of course. As something of a signature St John dish, I sort of felt like we had to have it. Bone marrow is rich and spreadable. We slathered it on hunks of toast and ate it with bites of acid-dressed parsley salad to help cut the fat.

My one apprehension was that despite the lack of pomp at the restaurant, generally speaking, the British appear to have beautiful table manners. I, on the other hand, do not. I tend to approach food consumption from a very practical viewpoint, often resulting in an utter lack of grace. This was especially uncomfortable given that we sat shoulder to shoulder with a table full of locals. I tried my best to mimic our table mates, but in the end, those bones were getting picked up and hollowed out so that I could extract every last luscious nub of marrow from them.

Next we had an offal terrine. It had a variety of bits and parts in it, and consequently was a study in texture as well as flavor.

Sean had bream and courgettes for his main course. The bream wound up being a whole fish. Sean, who is much more adept at the table manners game, managed to essentially extract the fillets from his cooked fish without ever placing hands on the meat. The fish was obviously incredibly fresh and because Mr Henderson tends not to over-do things, it was gently seasoned so that the wonderful flavor of the fish itself could be savored. Sean pointed out that if more fish tasted like this, he’d eat more fish.

I wound up choosing the day’s special, sweetbreads with bacon and peas. Everything was perfectly cooked, and tied together with a very light, slightly sweet sauce. With soft sweetbreads, salty chewy pork belly, and slightly crisp peas, it was utter luxury. It occurred to me only later that I hadn’t really eaten anything that I hadn’t eaten before. I am ever so slightly regretful of that fact. Then again, it was one of the best meals of our trip, so who am I to quibble.

By this point, I was so full, I was afraid to open my mouth to speak for fear of what might come out. Luckily, our server fixed me up with a serving of St John’s famed Eccles Cake with Lancashire Cheese to take home so I could enjoy it the next morning. Sean, a firm believer that there is always room for sweets, had a very beautiful and rich slab of chocolate for dessert.

All told our meal at St John was a wonderful way to celebrate another year of marriage and an incredible London vacation.

Day 8 – Hyde Park, Relaxing

29 May 2011 – The next day was gloriously uncomplicated. We started by visiting Speakers Corner in Hyde Park. It’s meant to be a place were people get up on their (sometimes literal) soapbox and pontificate on all manner of political and social topics. The real allure, we’d read, was the banter that often sprung up between the speakers and their hecklers. Sean and I were both pretty jazzed about it. Unfortunately, and maybe this isn’t always the case, when we were there, the speakers seemed to universally have a religious agenda. We did not stay long.

We spent our day wandering in parks and looking at fountains and moseying through the streets of London. We did take a crack at visiting Harrods and experiencing their incredible food court. The selection of goods available for procurement was indeed impressive. The crowds, however, were so madly bustling that it was difficult to really enjoy the experience.

On our to-do list while visiting London was to sample a bit of the local cocktail scene. We had a list of places that we might be interested in trying, but as it happened, only one of those places was open on Sunday. We finished out our evening at the tiny bar with no name at 69 Colebrooke Row.

Day 9 – The Vaudeville, the British Museum

30 May 2011 – A theatre experience was also on our to-do list, so the plan the next day was to line up early at The Vaudeville to see if we could score day tickets to that evening’s showing of In a Forest Dark and Deep by Neil Labute – a two-person play starring Matthew Fox and Olivia Williams. For about ten pounds each, we wound up with front row seats to see the production.

We spent our afternoon at the British Museum. I can’t even begin to explain the immensity of this place or the sheer diversity of the artifacts contained therein. I swear to you, we could have spent a week touring different parts of this place and not exhausted its offerings. As it was, we spent a few hours meandering through a list of highlights, taking regular side trips to see random items that struck our fancy.

Day 10 – Full English Breakfast, Queen’s Life Guard at the Horse Guards, Churchill War Rooms

31 May 2011 – Slow starts to our days were becoming something of a pleasant habit at this point in our trip. We dickered around our apartment then went for a full English breakfast at a place called Canteen. Huge plates of eggs and sausage and tomatoes and potatoes landed in front of us. It was all we could do to finish. We spent part of our time at breakfast trying to decide how much or how little of the whole changing of the guard thing we cared to see.

We had wandered past Buckingham Palace earlier in our trip and it was truly a madhouse, so we decided to head over to see the Queen’s Life Guard at the Horse Guards instead. Beautiful and amusingly antsy horses were topped with tidy-uniformed, shiny-hatted guards. We watched them stand at attention for while, observed the guard change, and then headed out.

Our next stop was to visit the Churchill War Rooms. As a US citizen, my perspective on war is that it’s a horrible thing that happens in other places. Our soldiers cross oceans to fight wars. Our leaders can make decisions from their quiet offices, can sleep in their own beds at night. World War II tore through Europe. Churchill did his leading from an underground set of rooms. And when he slept, it was on a narrow bed underground with the calamity of bombs and air raid sirens serving as alarm clocks. The War Rooms, filled with various pieces from the period, were a fascinating view into subterranean war-time living and working. The accompanying Churchill museum provided plenty of insight into a complex and effective war-time leader.

After we were through with World War II, we met up with our friend Laura and had cream tea. Amusingly enough, this is the only time we had tea in London. There are two ways to have a proper tea. High tea is (I’m told) a fancy affair filled with finger sandwiches and delicate petit fours and is generally considered to be an actual meal. We had a cream tea which is essentially an afternoon snack of clotted cream and scones served with tea. If you read about English teas at all, you’ll find out that they vary somewhat from region to region. The thing I learned from this experience was that clotted cream is delicious, and I would very much like to try to make some at home.

Our well-fed trio headed to a local grocery store and stocked up on golden syrup and treacle. I had been sort of disappointed that there was no black pudding to be had for breakfast, and after complaining about this to Laura, she found pre-made black puddings at the store that simply had to be pan-fried and eaten. Sold! I’d have breakfast at home the next day.

Black pudding is essentially a sausage or meat cake which uses blood as a binder. The Germans have their blutwurst, the French their boudin noir, and the Spanish make morcilla. The UK’s black pudding seems to be a very grain-heavy affair, with the blood binder taking something of a back seat and the flavor generally being rich but uncomplicated. To me, it seems the best kind of comfort food – flavorful and filling and undemanding. (Despite how frequently I described it as such, Sean was absolutely unwilling to try it.)

We eventually made our way to Purl Bar, our next cocktail destination of the trip. We were tucked into one of the bar’s many quiet corners and enjoyed several of their incredible cocktails before parting ways with Laura and heading to the apartment to get our black pudding in the refrigerator.

Later that night, while wandering around town, we followed our noses to a very lovely dinner. At San Xia Ren Jia, we enjoyed a sizzling platter of twice-cooked pork, rich and lightly sweet Spare Ribs with Glutinous Rice (good, but not nearly as good as the twice-cooked pork), and a garlicky, piquant pile of perfectly cooked green beans. Our waiter couldn’t have been nicer as he helped us make our choices and brought our food.

Day 11 – Windsor Castle, Shopping

01 June 2011 – The next day, after frying up a delicious disc of black pudding for my breakfast (sprinkled lightly with salt and served alongside some toast and an over-easy fried egg), we headed out to catch a train to Windsor. Windsor Castle, still a royal residence, is a sprawling, beautifully manicured place. I most enjoyed wandering around inside the castle grounds. The structures are stately and well-kept and the gardens are absolutely breath-taking. We did take the time to see the doll collection and the impressive state rooms.

Shopping was on the agenda for that afternoon, so once we were back in London, we headed over to the Whiskey Exchange to take a look at their liquor offerings. The array of goods was impressive, but what really caught our collective eye was the selection of bitters they had on their shelves. Silly though it may seem, we left the place with a bag full of nothing but bitters.

Next we headed over to Foyles, a huge and well-stocked book shop. My aim here was British-style cookbooks. Naturally, there were plenty to be had and after choosing several and browsing longingly through their travel section, we headed out for dinner.

We hadn’t had too many meat pies yet, so we headed out to the Newman Arms. We had pints and fluffy pastry-topped pies of stewed meat (steak and kidney for me). The vegetables served alongside were crisp and delicious – the perfect foil for the rich stew. I don’t know if this is universally true, but at least at the Newman Arms, those pies were immense. I ate to discomfort and still it looked like I hadn’t eaten even half of my meal (I did, of course, finish my pint).

Day 12 – Oxford, Stratford Upon Avon, Warwick Castle

02 June 2011 – We punked out on our outing for the next day and decided to book a last minute tour to see Oxford, Stratford-Upon-Avon, and Warwick castle. This tour was everything I don’t like about organized tours. The tour group was huge, and I constantly felt rushed. That said, the tour operator was courteous and the buses were punctual, so it certainly could’ve been worse.

Oxford was beautiful, and I wish that we had decided to spend our whole day there. We did get to wander through Christ Church and see a bit of the town, but it was really only a small taste of what we could have seen.

Our meal that evening was one of the best of our trip. Laura and Latch took us to their very favorite Indian restaurant in town, Simply Indian. Among many other delicacies, I was introduced to whitebait, tender little fried fishes which would, if folks were willing to eat them, make excellent bar food.

Day 13 – Museum of London, Routemaster, Kings Cross, St Pancras

03 June 2011 – We started our morning at the Museum of London to see their Street Photography Exhibit, which Sean seemed to particularly enjoy.

Then we headed toward St Paul to see the old Routemaster double-decker bus. We had the passing thought that we might hop aboard, but seeing it from the outside seemed more fun.

Next on our list was to see Kings Cross and St Pancras station. Kings Cross was undergoing renovation and was a colossal letdown to those of us who are a bit Harry Potter obsessed. St Pancras, on the other hand, was beautiful – immense and full of light. After this, we made our obligatory purchases of unique and interesting liquor that we couldn’t get in the States.

After dropping this off, we tried Trailer Happiness, a place filled with wonderful rum-based goodness, tacky-in-all-the-right-ways decor, and incredibly welcoming staff.

Finally, we celebrated our last night in London with a long walk along the waterfront across from Big Ben and Parliament for some nighttime photos. Frantic packing ensued thereafter.