I thought after having done the Tube thing yesterday, I got a little cocky. I blithely ran down the platform to hop on the district line only to end up in the wrong direction and I should have been on the circle line.
So I had to double back and get on the right train. When I finished my tour of The Tower of London and Tower Bridge tour, I walked back to the tube and promptly got on the wrong train again.
I got off at the next stop, crossed the platform and went the other way. All that trouble just to see 221B Baker Street. Yes. It's an actual address but I didn't stand in line because after all, it's not like it's Sherlock's stuff. He was just a character in a book. A most imminent character nonetheless.
Then almost next door is the London Beatles Store. She loves you yeah yeah!
Then I turned around and head back to the Tube. When I did get on the right train to get me to the right station, an announcement told us that no westbound trains would stop at the station due to maintenance. So I walked from Covent Garden to Leicester station so I could catch the train and head back.
London doesn't put their street signs on posts, they put them on the walls of the buildings on the corner!
So when in doubt, I just kept walking and when I suddenly saw the Hippodrome Casino, it was like a miracle to me! I actually recognized something!
Apart from the lost thing, I lingered at Westminster Abbey, shocked and surprised to look down and see Charles Darwin's name indicating he was buried there. Everyone who goes inside gets an audio tour aid and it was grand.
Every hour on the hour, there is a moment of prayer where they specifically ask you to stop and give over to a moment of silence. I did and I wanted to trip the people who kept walking and talking.
I enjoyed the Poet's corner and seeing Chaucer, W.H. Auden, George Eliot had her real name on her stone, immortalized was amazing. I got such a chill when I stood upon Robert Browning's stone. It was different from the others, it had a border or light colored stone and his name was in a square of a reddish marble. I only got the chills when I stood on his name and no other.
One of my favorite poems ever, was written by Robert Browning so in deep respect for his memory and maybe just to show that he has not been forgotten. I recited the poem and the chill went away.
All that is lost is not often forgotten.