Welcome to the final instalment of the my related trilogy, unless like the good Mr Lucas, I decide to cash in with some prequels. This episode takes place in London, whilst hubby and I stole away for a weekend to celebrate his big 30th birthday. Once more I had the serious dilema of packing sensible attire and once more I thought I had done well. Despite this adventure taking place in May the weather as I packed my things was decidedly British, cold, wet and grey. So I erred on the side of caution and packed jeans, long sleeve tops and a pair of sturdy and sensible walking boots. Hubby is not a fan of the tube and I knew that the majority of the weekend would involve walking rather than riding.
On the first day we set off to take in the sights. We walked from my uncles rather fab flat at Tower Bridge where we were staying, along the length of the Thames and eventually out to Buckingham Palace. It took hours! However the weather had changed and the sun was starting to shine and even I had to admit that it was rather nice to stroll hand in hand in the sunshine.
On the second day we were shocked to see that the weather had maintained it's warmth and after a day of walking in boots I couldn't wait to swap into comfy flip-flops and a sun-dress (hey, just because I packed sensible doesn't me I didn't slip in a few frivolities). Once more we took to the streets and started a hike across London, however after a few minutes we noticed a slight malfunction. The satisfying sound of flip-flop, flip-flop, flip-flop had been replaced with a somewhat worrying flip-flap, flip-flap, flip-flap. One of my flip-flops was dangerous close to loosing it's sole (not soul as in taken by the devil, however I am convinced there is something devilish about the string of disasters befalling my shoes). Only hanging on by a thread, the sole of my flip-flop was earning me some curious looks as we walked the pavements and it mocked me with it's irregular tone.
After a few blocks of this I decided to brave it and walk bare foot. This worked well on the smooth-paved Thame-side pavement, but was decidedly more uncomfortable on the cobbled underpasses. Undeterred however I had another brain-wave. Ripping the offending sole from the flip flip I was able to wear it again, albeit it was like walking on cardboard but at least to the unobservant passer-by it looked like I was wearing two matching flip-flops. So we continued until we were able to find a shop selling shoes. "Well if you insist, I guess I could let you buy me a new pair of shoes..."
No comments:
Post a Comment