I met Cris at Heathrow yesterday. She has an all-day meeting today and in order to keep her awake and adjust to the time change, we did a long walk to The Regent’s Park late in the afternoon. It is amazing that the roses in Queen Mary’s Garden are still blooming in a major way this late into the year.
Earlier in the day I realized that England were to play San Marino at Wembley in the evening, and I knew that Peter would be disappointed if I didn’t attempt to get a ticket.
I got to my seat near half-time just as Wayne Rooney was taking a penalty to make it 2 – nil.
As San Marino is considered the worst team in FIFA, the crowd was a bit sparse; announced attendance was just over 55,ooo. The final score was 5 – nil England.
I have been to lots of League matches, but never an international at Wembley, and I must say that the Brits have crowd control down to a science. Some of it has to do with the design of the stadium, some with the way that the police control things, but mostly it has to do with the fact that the English do nothing better that queueing.
It was a great evening; I thought of Peter the whole time. I really wish he was with me.
Peg and I had a very productive day yesterday. We made it through an entire storage box of suitcases; we must have shot at least 14. Most were close to being empty. This safety pin was (barely) holding one of the ribbons that secures items on the bottom of the case. It is a lovely shade of green. This case belonged to Mary E. B.
I am sitting in terminal 3 at Heathrow waiting to be picked up by John Wilson. Nice to be back in England.
Peter and I flew home yesterday. It was an amazing trip and has solidified his wish to live in London, which I really hope he can do someday. Saturday was a big day for us with lots of travel on the tube and walking. As we were heading into central London from Heathrow we had a lovely exchange with a very nice woman who seemed to be about my age. P and I were talking about where to stop off to wander around and get a bite to eat, and she was apparently over-hearing our discussion. As she was leaving the train at her stop she said, “English people aren’t meant to speak to people on trains, but Gloucester Road is a bit dire. You might want to go on to South Kensington”. England has changed a ton since I started going there, but I am occasionally reminded of why I love it so much.
I took this shot of the road atlas yesterday while Peter was speaking to the Safety Officer of the Burton Albion Football Club. I was looking at the map to see how to get up to Scunthorpe. It turned out to be pretty easy and only took about an hour and a half. Burton was nice and it was the first place in the UK where I heard someone use the word “nowt” (meaning “nothing”). I asked a woman in a teashop in Burton about Scunthorpe and she said Northerners weren’t as friendly. The difference between north and south here is much different that in the States. It is only a matter of about 65 miles. In my years of travel I have found that everyone who comes from somewhere other than the locals couldn’t possibly be as pleasant. For me, though they all seem pretty nice.