I awoke Sunday early, in spite of my determination to sleep in after the ball. Somehow the body clock was convinced I must get up. Oh, well. I packed up and went down to breakfast, then took a last stroll around the Abbey yard and surrounding streets. I do love Bath. It never grows old, and I always look forward to returning!
I woke up early Wednesday, since my body clock was telling me it was 7:30am when it was 6:30, so I decided to try the Minster again, as morning matins are scheduled daily for 7:30am. Walking around to the front entrance at 7:15, I found the door open but saw no one inside. I let myself in and listened, but the only sound that met my ears was that of a vacuum!
Being introduced to a new city is like being handed a Christmas present. You have no idea what’s inside and whether you’ll like it or just be polite about it and say things like Emma Woodhouse would: “When pressed, I say she’s elegant!” Well, I didn’t have to force politeness after my introduction to York by my friends Suzi and Keith, who absolutely adore the place and visit each year.
I repacked my suitcases Friday night to squeeze in all the fabric I’d gotten on an outing with Suzi on Wednesday (I wish I’d taken photos — SUCH a fabulous shop!). The next morning, Keith drove Cathy, the baby, and me to St. Pancras Station, which I’d never seen before. Goodness! It is an absolutely jaw-dropping example of Victorian Gothic architecture.
Suzi had a morning appointment on Friday and urged Cathy and me to do something on our own. She and Keith would meet us for lunch around 1. So we took the bus to Oxford Street, then walked past Selfridges to Manchester Square, home to the stunning jewel box that contains The Wallace Collection–one of London’s best kept art museum secrets.
After Cathy’s arrival, we decided to simply hop a bus up to Piccadilly Circus and walk around as dusk fell, enjoying the lights of Piccadilly Street, Regent Street, and all the lovely little side streets that connect the two. It begins to grow dark around 4pm at that time of year, so it’s quite easy to catch all the lights without being out very late.
As a very early Christmas surprise in 2014, my husband gave me a small gift bag in November and asked me to open it. When I unwrapped the tissue paper inside, I found what looked like a Mardi Gras mask and felt completely puzzled. “You’re sending me to New Orleans?” I asked, incredulously. He laughed and told me to guess again.