Honeymoon Day 10: Greenwich & Blackheath
By Betty Fokker on January 17, 2014
When we awoke on Day 11, it was to the lovely scent of breakfast being prepared by Lovely Lizzie. We staggered downstairs, where our hostess fed us and pour various hot, caffeinated beverages into our gullets. There was even a tea cozy on the tea pot. Being American and as couth as rabid raccoon, I had never seen the use of tea cozy in real life. I was entranced, much to Lizzie’s profound amusement.
After breakfast, the kind people who had just housed and fed us also took us for a bit of sightseeing before we had to take the train to the airport. As I mentioned earlier, Lovely Lizzie and Handsome Hubby reside in Greenwich (pronounced grinninch for whatever English reason) so they had an abundance of sights for us to see. All of them were fantastic.
We went to Blackheath park, which looks all nice and green and even on Google maps but is actually vertical. Seriously, it was Edinburgh all over again. Our healthy British hostess was zipping around like a greyhound on amphetamines, apparently immune to gravity, while Sweet Babou and I had to get down on all fours and crawl up some sections of the “hills”. It was like we were in some sort of ibex habitat smack in the middle of a London.
The scenery from it was gorgeous, tho. Totally worth the coronary and pulled hamstring I got trying to walk up it.
Trust me, those look like deceptively gentle ground swells. They are seven miles high each when you’re hauling a large American ass up them.
See, we are not far from the center of London. You can see The Gherkin from here.
Here’s Lovely Lizzie laughing while Sweet Babou and I gawk at Big London Trees.
This is Lizzie standing in the one flat spot in the whole of Blackheath. I tried to get her to give me a piggy-back ride, but she declined.
Here's a picture of Sweet Babou in straddling the East and the West:
Handsome Hubby and Lovely Lizzie also took us into Greenwich proper. There we saw several interesting things, but of course the thing that jazzed my juice the most was the Victorian toilet that was still functional.
Yep, I peed in it.
We didn’t get to go inside the Cutty Sark, but I did get some nice pictures of it.
Sadly, it was then time to get on the train and go to the airport to fly back to Dublin. We were leaving the next day for Home, and it had been a wonderful trip full of magnificent people and amazing places.
Then, Sweet Babou broke his toe our last night in Dublin. But that’s a tale for Monday’s blog.
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