|Greenwich from the park where time begins...|
"Let's go to Green witch", said Tall Guy.
"Sure, and just so you know, it's Gren itch", I replied.
"I don't think so, it has two Es, like the colour", Tall Guy looked at me dubiously.
"Well, it's Grenitch. Just add it to your list of words that are not said how they seem".
He gave me the "you anglophones and your messed up spelling" look (yes, in our short time in London, this situation has come up often enough that it has developed its own look).
He shrugged. "Who cares? Let's go!"
|Enjoying a hot roast beef sandwich from the market.|
Greenwich was quite a drive away (an hour on good old Fran... we're testing names for the motorbike), but it was so beautiful outside that we didn't mind. It was our first long-distance ride where we didn't arrive at our destination with legs so cold all we wanted to do was go home!
Saturday was one of those days that, after a long stint of greyness, seemed impossibly lovely. As we drove through the borough looking for a place to park (ah Madrid, how we pine for your lax law enforcement which allows us to park on the doorstep of wherever we happen to be going), I was thinking about how much more beautiful the buildings in our pictures were going to look because of the sunny, sunny skies.
We parked and started walking through the Royal Naval College grounds (you can see them in the "fog" scene of The King's Speech), toward the market for lunch.
|Look familiar? Just imagine some fog... and Colin Firth.|
I reached into my purse, suddenly thinking that it felt very light, considering a GPS, a camera and a tripod were in it, along with the usual guidebook, notebook, and slew of hand creams and tissues I always have on hand. As soon as I thought it, I knew the camera wasn't in there. I checked anyway:
"Hold this" I commanded, passing Tall Guy my purse organizer....
"and these" out came the books and tissues...
"and take this" I handed over the GPS.
"Um..." I said as I frantically routed around in the air inside my purse (hmm, I'd thought once it was empty it would be big enough for me to hide in), "it's not in here".
(That means WHAT??? in Spanish, and when said by Tall Guy, it usually comes with one eyebrow raised so high I worry his eye might fall out of the socket.)
"Como que, it's not in here?" (What do you mean, it's not in here?)
"Well, we can still enjoy looking around without taking pictures...."
"Today is a perfect day. There is sun. It is not spraying rain (he meant spitting). It will take us an hour and a half to go home, pick it up, and come back here."
"Errr, I'm really, really sorry?" I ventured.
We walked/stomped on in silence for a while when suddenly I remembered putting the camera into Fran's trunk (maybe the bike shouldn't have a name...):
"It's in the bike!" I shouted triumphantly.
|Smiling at Wren's beautiful symmetry (and relief that we had the camera).|
Tall Guy, eyebrow still raised, looked at me, unconvinced. We dashed back to the parking lot, unlocked the trunk, and sure enough, there was the camera. Crisis averted, we proceeded to enjoy a gorgeous day out in Greenwich (Tall Guy carried the camera for the rest of the day.)
Just one more incident building up my case for man bags.