Mark and I left Paris Friday afternoon for a weekend in London, which I was SURE was going to coincide with the Royal Bebe. Alas, the baby did not come, and every Londoner we asked about it rolled their eyes and assured us that it was only we (silly) Americans who gave a flip about The Baby. Humph. Sometimes those English can be decidedly stodgy.
These were our wonderful hosts.
Nixon loved me and wanted to sit in my lap and snuggle in my bed. Guess which one is Nixon?
They live in a gorgeous Knightsbridge neighborhood, which we explored Friday night.
Harrod’s in the evening shadows.
No trip to London is complete without at least one pub pint.
Saturday we walked all over the city and saw a matinée performance of Book of Mormon, which was as good as people had promised.
I indulged my obsession with the newly renovated St. Pancras.
The former “booking office” is now a restaurant.
lobby of the Renaissance Hotel at St. Pancras
On Sunday we walked around Kensington Gardens, which was sadly brown with thirst as a result of the high temperatures and recent lack of rain.
There were plenty of areas that were not brown, however.
What is a stroll through English gardens without…..Aston Martins? In celebration of its 100th year, the famous British car company was exhibiting 150 models in Kensington Gardens Park.
One section was all Aston Martins that had been used in Bond films. James Bond.
A Bond Girl, perhaps?
Such a fun weekend. Each time Mark and I go to London we are reminded of how much we love it.
Cheers to the new prince!
Mais Oui Paris 