20December1995

London 20/12/95
My dear folks,

How are you in your far-flung homes this wintry evening? For our part, we are snug after a perfectly pleasant day. The TV News rumbles on over a drunken brawl on a trans-Atlantic North Western Airlines flight. The crew, we are led to understand, was pelted with food by inebriated passengers & saved from serious assault only by a group of wrestlers who came to their rescue. The inebriates were flown back home in disgrace, their wives madder than hell at a ruined holiday. Who says the age of adventurous travel is over?

Nothing half as exciting in our lives! Jones took herself off to the dentist this morning while I went over to Islington to give Penny Mason a computer lesson. The air was damp but the weather was expected to clear & I decided to risk cycling. It was a good choice. London's roads, as usual, were just horrible & I slipped through long lines of impatient traffic. It's hard not to breathe for half an hour at a time but I did my best. Penny had assiduously set about the homework I had given her. After revising that, we explored the mysteries of creating databases & printing labels from them, a creative & satisfying session.

Home for lunch! I met Jones on the threshold. She said Mavis had come running along the pavement when he saw her, anxious to return to his home comforts. We debated going out somewhere as the sun had made a rare appearance. We decided to eat first & then walk to Hyde Park. It is our habit there to take a turn around the Round Pond, a huge circle of water inhabited by ducks & boats. As always, lots of people out with dogs, winter tourists and young lovers abounded. A deviation around terraced gardens attached to Kensington Palace (no sign of Di) where we were tempted to take afternoon tea & cakes at the Orangery, a smart tearoom in the grounds. The tea menu was not too, too unreasonable but as I only had a few pounds in my pocket, we put if off for another day. Would be very embarrassing to find ourselves a couple of quid short. It happened to me once in Cape Town. Was just awful!

Instead, we took refreshments at Whiteley's centre in Queensway. Kevin would remember it, a big, smart shopping centre, much frequented by the Arabs who live in the area. Jones said it woud be her Christmas present. Not much of a Christmas present, Cappuccino & a chocolate square, but they made her happy. There was a huge, decorated tree in the central foyer, almost too big to credit. Jones took a close look and declared it a replica. Santa was hard at work in his grotto & in the Vidal Sassoon hairdresser beside us, smart women were having their hair done expensively. I don't think Mr Sassoon's "artistes" do a better job than the "girls" at the modest establishment which Jones & I frequent over the road. But they spoil their clients silly & charge them a fortune for the fuss. It's like flying Business Class to Portugal. You sit in the same seats as the herd but get showered with extra drinks & attention at a cost of approximately £1 a minute for the 2 & 1/2 hour journey. Gotta be crazy!

And that's our day! We tried some coffee from the new cafetierre we acquired. Tastes pretty good but not as good as the 12 year old whisky we had with it. Two days to go at work! I have sent Anita detailed orders for festive meals following her initiation into the mysteries of cuisine. Our bags are packed and my long-hidden hiking boots tested. They ought to be perfect for Germany. We are all but ready.