I am currently mightily torn between wanting to continue writing about Tower Bridge and its effect on traffic on the Thames, wanting to go out somewhere where normal people go on a Saturday night to make mirth, and wanting to take a nap.
I think the nap might win.
I finally visited Harrod's yesterday. Nice place to visit. Any store with its own squad of pipers is okay by me. I was a bit put off by the Dodi and Diana memorial, which features their photographs mounted in some god-awful gold thing, and displays a dirty wine glass from their last dinner together. There's also the "engagement ring" that Dodi supposedly bought the night before, exhibited as a testament to their true love or sumpin' like that. It's surrounded by a fountain and flowers, and a sign saying that it's the only thing in the store you're allowed to photograph. Tacky tacky tacky.
We also had free passes to used the "luxury bathrooms," which would otherwise cost a pound. I was less than impressed. Sure, they were clean and in-laid with marble, and had handcream and nice-smelling soap, but I expected something more. I think they should install one of those Japanese toilets that has a heated seat and a bidet option and plays music and provides its own lemony-fresh scent. Or I saw this toilet in a restaurant in Germany that cleaned its own seat after every flush. The seat rotated and a little spongy thing came down and cleaned it. And it smelled lemony-fresh. Harrod's needs to get hooked up with these Toilets of Tomorrow. Only then will I consider my pound well spent.
I did score myself a mighty fine toy. His name is Herbie the Hamster, and with the power of a single AAA battery he travels all around the room within his trusty plastic ball, bumping into things, and continuing onward. It's quite hysterical.
So the trip to Harrod's was a success, tacky fountains and sub-par potties excluded.