Londres Day 1: Oops

If today was any indicator of how the rest of our trip together will pan out, we better start praying to San Sebastian that we come back in one piece. Danise passed through customs with flying colors and Maddie held her breath over a dual tube-train ride to pick her up. Everything was smooth sailing getting into the city and we had lunch at David's Deli, one of the high street's treasures, with Paula and Lili. Yummy Lebanese and friendly neighborhood banter later, Lili was off to Warwick and Paula to singing class. She tried to buy matching dresses for us at a boutique store Social but the lace frocks didn't quite do it for us so we said goodbye but not without a caution from mummsy dearest "do you have your keys?"

Mothers, I swear to god you can be sprouting white hairs and they'd still try to wipe the shumutz from your cheek. Anyways, halfway down the high street on our way home, I realized I had left my keys on my desk. Oops. Easily recftified right? Ditz around town for a bit, kill time? Well, I also was without phone, and the rents weren't due in until 6:30. It was 2:00. At least it was pretty out right? So we walked back to David's and asked Has, one of the brothers, if he had a set of keys. Sometimes they have a set for guests but alas, he had to resort to asking one of his deli patrons to borrow their gate keys to at least get us into the shared backyard complex. Has knows all of Cholmley Gardens.

So we putz around the garden and find the back entrance of my house which has apparently been demolished by a jackhammer. New pavement couldn't have come at a better time eh? So we swap round to the other side and I notice my mother's window is open. If only one of us could shimmy up the water pipe two stories up and get onto the balcony. I thought I would offer up the plan to Danise who had been doing core training all year but she respectfully declined. I even mentioned that her upper body strength was probably excellent but she didn't take the bait. A second lap round we ran into a resident neither of us knew who lectured us on checking that we have our keys before we leave the house and directed us to Clive, the residential keeper's office. We stalked Clive until 3:30 which was when we were told he leaves but oh just wait, the plot thickens.

I was expecting my friend Matt to arrive at the train station at 3:00 and take the tube to West Hampstead. No phone, no number, no keys...he was going to ring the flat to tell us he was here so we coudl pick him up. Oh wait, we're locked out. So half past 3 and two visits to Clide's loo later (he won't know) we shot back down the high street in search of a lost boy, brown hair, backpack, and named Matt. Danise was in a whirlwind with the number of high street men with dark hair and a backpack. We got to the tube and asked the attendant if he had seen a boy with brown hair look lost. I'm surprised we don't get more looks of horror or at least concern. Minutes later Matt walks through the turnstill and waahey! The adventure continues.

We walked to Janet Riley's house a few streets over on a tip that she might have our key. She was on a conference call. We walked back up the high street and detoured down the backstreets to the o2 Centre to see if we could bide our time at the cinema. While nothing was playing, we amuzed ourself in the Waterstones bookstore until I spotted Mr. Wilkinson from ASL, grabbed Danise and Matt and got the hell out of there! Yeah Danise couldn't stop laughing and I think Matt was confused as all get out. Partly because he was running away from some nut job's old teacher in a foreign bookstore with a large hiking pack and probably partly because he couldn't believe the hot mess he'd gotten himself into.

We walked back to the high street and parked it in a pub where we discussed the difference in Laphroaig Whisky (found in Matt's pub glass) versus Ardbeg (found in Matt's flask), and other trivial topics. Two hours later my mother called to say she was stuck in traffic, to run up and tell a random neighbor i've never met that she would be late for drinks and to run back down to Janets because she was off her call and found the key. I smiled big to Danise and Matt, both at this point, less amuzed than before, and off we went up the high street, down the high street, back up, and then finally to La Smorfia for a quintisential Italian dinner.

Britian's Got Talent is over so QI it is...oy. Like I said, if today is any bit of foreshadow of Spain, Danise keeps the keys and lesson learned: the dark ages (sans phone, keys, technology) can be a lot of fun and liberating. Who knows, maybe soon we'll run into daper gentalmen with a twinkle in their eye, a spring in their step, and a chipper cherio love who want to take us singing in the rain.

Much love,
MK