MILWAUKEE-NYC-ITALY-GREECE AND A DAY IN LONDON BLOG POST EIGHTEEN

ONE LATE NIGHT AND ONE EARLY MORNING IN LONDON

We arrived in London bags in hand around seven in the evening of our last night on our holiday. After our arrival from Rome we took the Heathrow Express into Paddington Station.

Our hotel, the Hilton London Paddington was a part of the Paddington Station train terminal. When I made the reservations I was fully aware of the toll three weeks of vacationing was going to weigh on us.

I figured the least amount of inconvenience and the shortest distance we'd have to traverse with our luggage was going to be the safest option. Since the decision for this hotel was done under my supervision I knew I was going to be the one to take the heat if there were any snags. Luckily it all went to plan.

Once in our hotel room my party pooping partners pooped out and left me to go out on my own that evening and take all the pictures I wanted while they ordered room service and went to bed (well actually Rick had work to catch up on). Even though I asked for a map at the front desk I wasn't willing to go too far away from the hotel. I wasn't too sure of the area and I needed to sleep and eat at some point too.

Every time I'm in London I never seem to lose my fascination with the many forms of transportation that we New Yorkers share with out British counterparts, except theirs seems so much more intriguing. Their taxis are big and black with back seating ample enough for Shaquille O'Neal to spread out his legs

Even though the older double-decker buses had for the most part been retired the new ones in the light of night held a certain beauty far superior to the buses that plow through the streets of New York.

It's amazing how the British can even transform a shop as common as a shoe repair into a place of integrity and style. Our local shoe repair store is such a visual eyesore you can barely get through the door because of the clutter and dirt.

There are many ways we'd be better served by emulating the Brits despite their stiff upper lips and a passion for hunting dogs

London is a city of pubs and the neighborhood around the hotel did nothing to sully that reputation. The neighborhood certainly appeared to be a good place for a pub-crawl.

There certainly appeared as if there were plenty of willing participants on a Thursday night getting their weekend off to an early start with a pint of this and a glass of that.

There's something so English about the architecture of the British pubs that puts most American bars to shame. It's more than the design. It goes deeper into the culture where the pubs are much more a part of the community and serve as social gathering places for neighborhoods and small towns. There seems to be a real joy here of song and raised mugs. The American bars seem sadder in comparison with only the sounds of clicking pool balls instead of the laughter of children running under and around the tables.

The following morning we were giving ourselves until one in the afternoon to go out and accomplish two goals. Emmy was determined to hit one of the vintage clothing stores she had researched prior to our trip. The recommendation had come from a British vintage fashion blogger she follows. Since the store was in Covent Garden our second goal was to go back to Covent Garden Market.

We knew travel would require cabs once again. As it turned out it took over a half an hour to get from our hotel to Covent Garden. Traffic in London is extremely slow on the narrow streets of Merry Ol' England. We wanted to make sure Emmy got to her vintage store so the address we gave to our cab driver was the one for her store, Rokit.

After entering Rokit, Rick and I quickly learned we no longer fit under the category defined as vintage. We've now fallen in to antique. The store was a treasure trove to Emmy. To us it was a sad reminder of our impending irrelevance.

After we were able to pull Emmy out of the disco era we headed over to Convent Garden Market. I had done some scouting while Emmy was at Rokit and Rick had lost himself in a sale at the French Connection. The Market was only a few blocks away.

There's always something going on at the Market and that Friday was no different.

A stationary runway show was on display where the mannequins wore nothing but live flowers.

Some of England's best designers both floral and fashion lined the arcades of the Market with corsets of greenery and billowing skirts of pastel roses.

The floral finery spilled out into the vendor carts surrounding the buildings housing the market. There were gorgeous nosegays and bundles of floral arrangements strewn everywhere

Rick and Emmy took the time to engage the woman behind the Flower Bar and School. I'm not sure but I think Rick might have signed up for a class and scheduled a trip back sooner than I had expected.

London, for me, is a candy land for my eyes from the traditional pub architecture that defines a culture

To the kitsch of an almost Disneyland quality to its commercial heritage.

There's always something unexpected and delightful everywhere you go. It might have been the restraining of our visit to a too short morning that made us yearn for just a little more time before we'd have to return. I'm not completely sure but coming back to London, I think, is back on our bucket list and as long as we feel we can keep adding to the list we're more than happy to know we're still alive with new adventures to dream about.