12 December

After our wonderful concert last night we stayed up pretty late and so had a very lazy morning. After brunch at the flat, Bruce went out for a pub crawl while I went to run a couple of errands.  I had ordered a couple of things online from M&S, my favorite inexpensive clothing store, so decided to take the bus there.  I don’t know if it’s because of the holiday season, but the buses are running so slowly.  I waited 29 minutes for my bus which then sat in traffic forever. I managed to pick up my parcel and intended to take a bus across town.  I walked to the bus stop and was happy to see that it had a sign indicating arrival times.  Bus 24 is arriving in 14 minutes, 5 minutes later bus 24 is arriving in 29 minutes. Five minutes later it’s arriving in 6 minutes, five minutes later it’s arriving in 9 minutes.  I waited another 15 minutes then gave up.  As I was walking to a different bus stop, my bus drove by. That’s okay, they run regularly.  I made it to the bus shelter in ten minutes or so and waited. Again. Nineteen minutes later I was off into more traffic.  All this is to say it was a tremendously unproductive day. 

Bruce and I had a little cheese at the flat then walked to the bus shelter to take the bus toward Piccadilly to see the Christmas lights.  On the bus again, huh? Yup. Glutton for punishment, huh? Yup.  There is a “Christmas Lights Bus” that drives through the neighborhoods to see the lights and charges an exorbitant rate for it. The city buses will take you there for a fraction of the price. We eventually arrived in the Piccadilly area, but the traffic was crazy and the bus chose not to stop.  We rode on, passing Chinatown into the theatre district.  At last the bus stopped, and we walked back in the direction from which we came.  The lights were lovely, particularly on Regent Street. We walked, we took pictures, we were tourists. 

Nice of the cars to add some red lights for the season:

Regent Street lights

We ended up on Carnaby Street, or Carnaby Universe, as it is known during the Christmas season, because its lights have a space theme.  Carnaby Street is legendary for those of my generation (God, don’t I sound ancient?). Think the Twig, the Shrimp, Mary Quant. Don’t know what I’m talking about? Google it. You’ll find amazing, crazy fashion and the start of a kind of youth revolution.

We walked down Carnaby and stopped at Pix tapas bar where we had a great view of the changing lights on Carnaby Street. Bruce had a chili martini, I had an El Padron, made with mezcal and padron peppers.  Bruce chose some tapas, honey glazed cod fritters, serrano ham with a quail egg and fig and goat cheese on sourdough ciabatta. 

We then made our way to Fortnum and Mason, which is all done up as a giant Advent Calendar.

Since we’re in England for the holidays it seemed positively criminal not to buy a Christmas pudding, that symbol of British Christmas. Such a symbol, in fact, that Fortnum and Mason has “dancing puds” in the store. 

After a bit of a wait, we made it home again on yet another bus. Some people never learn.