You have to understand that I am not a history buff. I just like beautiful things, and interesting people, maybe a good story, but I could care less about when something was built or who built it or what kind of architecture it is. I just know I like it or I don't, it's interesting to look at, or it's not, it moves me or it does not.
On this day my illustrious God around London, (This was supposed to read "guide" not "God." I decided to leave it because thanks to auto check it turned out to be prophetic. You will catch my drift later.) Dr. Bill Epperson, decided I needed to see Big Ben, Westminster Abby, The place where all those people in wigs stand up and yell at each other, and that building where the queen resides. Most of these places you only get to see from the outside as you are not allowed entrance, I'm sure especially these days. You can go to Westminster Abby for evensong without paying a fee, but I bet they pass a plate, at least. If you want to pay 20 pounds you can tour the inside of the Abbey. I decided to pass, although with my previous experiences with the Underground, I certainly considered it, and thought it might bring me good karma.
We did get to go into the part of Westminster Abby where they keep the dead people. That was interesting and old. Don't ask me how old, remember I don't care about dates. However I was pleased to see that the Abbey had A tomb for the plumber that had served them for so many years. Believe you me, a good plumber is hard to come by and I definitely think they deserve a high place in heaven considering they spent so much time in the low places on earth. Can I get an amen and a flush?
At Buckingham palace the queen was apparently at home because the British flag was flying. I'm told that means she is home. Of course the opposite is true when she is away from home and they also turn off all the lights. We didn't get to see her, but I did think I glimpsed a woman high up in one of the windows for just a moment. Could've been the queen or maybe the pale lady from the Underground .
We took some pictures and Bill, Linda, and I discussed all the gold on the arches and the fountain around Buckingham palace, wondering if there was any real gold there to speak of. We all agreed it must not contain real gold or people would be scraping it off and stealing it. How do you like our powers of deduction? It must be because we are in the land of Sherlock Holmes.
As I said before Bill is our illustrious leader and guide on this trip. I know this because he tells me every day. He reminds me daily of his powers to navigate the underground and the overground. His sense of direction and skill with a map is the stuff of legends. Sonnets will be written in his honor and songs will be sung long after he has shed this mortal coil. Linda and I are just lowly servant's humbled to be included on this knights journey.
As Saint Bill lead us boldly forward to Buckingham palace, across the Westminster bridge there suddenly appeared a chink in his armour, as we had been going the wrong direction. He admitted that he had suspected something was amiss earlier, but hid it, I guess in hopes of practicing some dark sorcery in order to make things right and poor Linda and I would be none the wiser and his mistake would not be revealed. Alas that was not the case and we had to turn around and trudge back across the bridge and many steps before we reached our destination. Saint Bill declared this to be his one small mistake and after all true saints must be slightly flawed don't you see. "Yes Bill," Linda and I nodded, "we can see."