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Slept late, up at 8:00, exhausted from yesterday's journey. DW feeling poorly so I went down stairs had some poached eggs, mushrooms steamed tomatoes, and something that may have been nonfat yogurt with my granola.
Off to the Natural History Museum. Down Brompton Road, ducked into the Brompton Oratory
Found a niche, lit a candle, said a prayer, sat in the cool damp stillness and enjoyed the peace. Out into bright light, young worker bees by the thousands, buzzing to to get to their work hives by 9:00. Frantic, but still able to text, comb their hair and cross the road in an impressive display of youthful multitasking.
Masons, carpenters, plumbers, painters, roofers, climb iron lattice scaffolds and set about the endless restorations of the Edwardian and Georgian grand ladies that line the street. The edifices are no longer coated in the accumulated black soot of the past few centuries. The brick work is crisp red and orange with pure white stone margins. London seems cleaner than I remember. The streets, mews, and alleys are free of graffiti and trash.
Enter the museum at a side entrance
off of Exhibition Road head through the Geology and Gem section straight up to the Paleo. I was the only one in the entire hall ( shocking I know ). I thought my museum was big, but this place is about 7 times the size. Absolutely massive. I have met researchers from here passing through my museum and Invert researchers working in the collection vaults. It's nice to see their facilities, truly impressive!
Stopped off at the British Geological Society to buy some geology posters of William "Strata" Smith
for my geology buddies at the lab.
Back to the hotel, picked up my sleepy, gimpy wife got her some air and spinach soup for lunch.
My son and DIL arrive tomorrow. Walked down to The Cadogan on Sloan Street
to make reservations Saturday for their 3rd wedding anniversary dinner party. The Cadogan is one of our special places in town. It has been renovated in the last few years but they managed not to muck up the 19th century stodginess of the place. The restaurant used to be called Langtrys after the late great Professional Beauty Lillie Langtry, part time squeeze of Edward VII.
It was here, also, that Oscar Wilde was arrested for buggering a superfluous aristocratic second son. The arrest was mainly for bad manners, not so much for buggery.
While waiting to make reservations a small pod of ancients, 7 or so, we're having whiskey and waiting to be led into lunch. Impeccably dressed in cashmere sweaters and Herringbone jackets, school ties, Ferragamo shoes, and smelling of cherry tobacco pipe smoke. They were talking of the Africa Campaign.
Their conversation was pure music.

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