On Saturday afternoon we found ourselves on the South bank of the Thames near the London Eye. Although the sky was grey and overcast it was warm and humid, and the tourists were out in force.
Why do people have photographs taken of themselves grinning inanely in front of views? Is it to prove the did actually go on holiday and were really where they said they were?
Anyway, we took a slow stroll down river towards the HMS Belfast, and passed through the crowds and entertainers that are attracted to that area. I was amazed at the things some people will do in public for money. Like cover themselves and their clothes in gold or silver paint and stand very still AND expect you to give them money. Idiots, get a proper job.
The jugglers were better, one guy balancing two footballs with a can of red bull in between them on a stick he held in his mouth. There were bands playing Latin American music, solo guitar players and even a Cellist. Under one of the bridges was a second hand book market.
And yes, there was a bloke being Captain Jack and having pictures taken with young ladies. I never saw that card at the job centre.
We were strolling in the general direction of The Anchor, but much to our general increase in thirst it was closed for refurbishment. So we had to wander one pub down to the one that is next to the replica of the Golden Hind. (can’t remember its name) were we saw a group of people in the beer garden having a pirate party. Yep, they were all dressed as pirates of the “fresh from the fancy dress shop” variety except for one girl who arrived wearing a hat with an Ariel attached to the top. She told her friends she had come as “pirate radio” Oh dear.
I found myself next to her at the bar a little later and complimented her on her hat.
“You should wear that hat to the next wedding you go to,” I told her
“Why?” she asked looking puzzled.
“Well the reception would be brilliant”
After that we crossed the bridge that leads to St Pauls Cathedral to get our bus Tapas wards and stopped in “The Centre Page” for another drink. They have a selection of rather interesting Victorian/Edwardian “gentlemans interest” photos on the wall of the entryway, some very nice looking young women in not much at all. How very nice.
After our brilliant Tapas feed up we headed home and saw the tail end of the “lets get hammered on the tube” party/protest in Liverpool street station. A large group of drink fuelled jolly people were making merry on the main concourse but we moved right along and got our train home. Good job too as it turned a bit nasty later on judging by the news reports the next day.
Oh bugger, it appears that my boss has found me some work to do so I will stop boring you and go do the work thing for a bit.
