Visiting the Globe, I finally got to see what all the hype (ado?) was about.
It’s a done deal. I’m basically British.
Or have you?
(or: the one where I found myself back at Covent Gardens.)
There was a fair amount of adulting amidst the glitz and glam and grubbing in London.
The ups and downs of eight hours of layover time, seven hours of despair, six people to a flat, five kids you know coming to London, three pieces of luggage, two very different flights and one seemingly endless day of travel.
Don’t let waking up early get the best of you.
She brews. She scores.
Pack my life into pieces. This is my last resort.
Leaving for England is bittersweet.