"I'd love to have your feminist rant alongside the show..."

...says Stella to me as I was babble about how Jerry DOES NOT LISTEN to Lise for the bulk of An American in Paris.

I spend most of last night and this morning binging on 13 Reasons Why. Why? I'M ON VACATION. And I'm hooked. (Clay's parents, give it a rest, amiright?)

So that I have something to write about besides Netflix, I page thru my Rick Steves' London guide for a tour to take. My aunt Mary and Uncle Steve introduced me to Rick Steves' guides on my first Europe trip in another lifetime and I can't recommend them enough. His writing is detailed yet accessible and good humored. His Museum walks are my favorite for all the Pop-Up Video type trivia he includes when talking about specific paintings and sculptures  Also, today I saw a German pre-teen in headgear reading his own Rick Steves' London guide out loud to his parents so if it's smart enough for a German kid, it's smart enough for me. 

Bow down.

Anyway, I settle on Steves' West End walk because it's a beautiful day and I don't feel like being inside. Plus my show tonight is walking distance from the end of the tour.

Being out all afternoon and evening presents me with my most/least favorite question: What am I gonna eat? 

I have an awesome idea- tea! I can't remember the last time I sat down to traditional English tea so I'm long overdue. Is having a big fancy high class tea by yourself depressing? I don't feel like finding out so I do some research and find Soho's Secret Tea Room, which lives in Coach & Horses, a legendary pub. (Fun fact: It's the first pub to serve veggie & vegan food). I choose this place because the review consensus is the tea room is yummy but chill. 

Once I start the walk, I realize it might not be my cup of tea. (Heh heh.) The West End walk covers the West End obviously, but I don't so much think about what that means until I get to the starting point which is Leicester Square. Other highlights will include the major shopping and tourist areas in the immediate vicinity. 

Spring flowers in Leicester Square.
Ridiculous pretty right??

My problems with this: 

~ I have an allergy to touristy anything. 

~ I hate crowds (my more positive way of saying I hate people) especially when they amble, stroll or fully stop in the middle of a thoroughfare. 

~ Capitalism makes me angry. 

~ Shopping feels like light torture.  

~ I do not like the smell of pee. (Gimme a tourist spot and I can show you a puddle of human pee on any given corner.)

So why am I doing this to myself? Siiiiiigh, BECAUSE. I'm too lazy to rethink my day, and I can't very well cheerlead/nag people about keeping an open mind if I can't. And I like to do this. Watch, I'll probably do it to you somewhere in this blog. 

So I give it my all on the West End walk, which takes me about 2 hours. Highlights include:

Monty Python once lived above
Neal's Yard Remedies! 

~ I find the TKTS booth in Leicester Square. Now I have a destination for 10am every morning I want to see a show. 

~ I pee! Instead of public toilets, there are 2theloo areas where you pay a pound to number 1 or 2 in a nice clean place. Totally worth the money. 

~ I discover Nate's Yard, a charming courtyardish picnic table area surrounded by healthy cafes and wine & cheese shops. It seems like Stella and I would feel at home here. I'd love to come on a weekend when she's off work, but I can only imagine the crowds. The fact that today is a Monday is helping this walk out a lot. 

~ I find a heavenly used bookstore on Charing Cross Road, where the street is lined with bookstores. It's stacks and shelves and a windy staircase of rare, medium rare (their awesome words) and obscure books. Of course I don't note the name, because I'm not a real travel writer. 

~ I walk through the sex shop part of Soho and thank God it's daytime. Still, there is a prostitute offering herself around, and it's very uncomfortable because she looks like someone's mom. Modest flower dress, Keds and mom hair. If it wasn't for her cigarette, leather jacket and that fact that she's bellowing to passing people advertising herself, I'd have never guessed. 

By the time my West End walk ends at Piccadilly Square, I'm beyond ready for my tea. The bartender at Coach & Horses lets me up the steep spiral staircase to the tea room. If you ever try this place, perhaps call ahead for a reservation. I got lucky because I was a single - yay me! - and they had one table left. When I enter the tea room that glows with pastel and features walls lined with quaint tea china I "Aww..." in the rad cuteness of everything and the waitress looks at me like she's really mad I exist. 

Tea! Scones! Clotted creammmme...

I get over it quickly because, to be fair, the place is jammed with people and she is the only server. I opt against full traditional tea with all the sweets (I'm boring, I don't want to break my no dessert kick today) and get a pot of Earl Grey tea & scones with clotted cream and jam instead. 

I get my tea & milk (yum) and despite registering all the accoutrements like tea strainer & cozy, I burn my hand on the pot and pour tea grounds in my cup. I do this enough times that I'm super proud when I actually remember to strain my tea. 

Coach & Rigs. Clear eyes, full hearts, clotted cream.

Now for my scones & clotted cream. The scones were great but really just a vehicle for my clotted cream. What is clotted cream? Clotted cream is nectar of the Gods by way of a cow. It looks like butter, but it's So Much More. Words can't do it justice, like trying to describe what your toes feel like when you realize Tim Riggins is in front of you at Cafe Medici on a Sunday morning (true story) or the color of the stars you see when you hear Coach Taylor's voice as he passes you walking out of the H-E-B (another true story). Just come to the U.K. and eat it and swoon. 

I text Stella to remind her I'll be seeing a show tonight. "Stay awake!" she texts back. Boy, do I! An American in Paris is beyond stunning. But my seat is as far away as you can get from the stage and not be in the balcony. This isn't a tragedy, I stay in my assigned seat for the first act and totally enjoy the show (despite a healthy helping of no-means-yes archaic storytelling, which I know, I know this story is set in post-WWII and I'm being picky, but still. It bugged the crap out of me.) but it's like I'm watching it on an iPhone. 

Row "double zed"

At intermission I moved up to some much closer seats and the show went from "Wow!" to "WWWWOOOOWWWWWWWWW!!!!" I'm fully immersed in the spectacle and I've got a perma-grin until I give a standing ovation to the cast. Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful!

I leave tomorrow for Edinburgh and I haven't quite done the research I should on where I'm going and how to get there on both ends of my train trip, so off I go!