Greenwich Mean Time

By Thursday afternoon, we’d found ourselves having lunch with Iola and Tingi, in on business, at the Med Cafe near the Archway tube station in London. Lucas was fast asleep in his stroller. We needed to remove ourselves post-haste to Tamsen’s flat in Mudchute, so we decided to stash our belongings in the trunk of a cab rather than lug the stroller and rolling suitcase through the tube system (sans lifts or escalators)…


We got caught in rush-hour traffic, but Tamsen was nice enough to leave key and note for us (she needed to go into work for a couple hours). We tooled around the park and came back in a couple of hours. David had arrived from work by then, and Tamsen followed shortly with pollo a la brasa and chips.
Jean and I managed to push far past our jet lag-mandated “we must stay awake until this point” time of 8 o’clock.
The next morning we got up and went over to ASDA, the local market (“always low prices,” a la Walmart) and stocked up on further supplies for feeding bread and carrots to the livestock on the farm later, and beer for imbibing…
We went over to a play-ground and park beside the Greenwich Mean Time marker after lunch.
Lucas’s schedule was somewhat thrown to the wind, and he pretty much napped in all the wrong times, including having a massive melt-down right before we walked into a restaurant for dinner that evening.
Iola came over for that last event, and Chloe, Tamsen and David’s daughter, developed quite the bond with her new-found friend.
This morning we managed to sleep in quite too long, and are only now getting ready to head out to the store for more live-stock supplies again. This afternoon we’re strolling through Kensington Gardens and doing something. I’m sure Jean’s told me what, but I’ve only had one cup of coffee so far…see you all later.