Final hours

As midnight arrives, less than 24 hours remain for our brief stay in the UK/Great Britain/London.

Could we have stayed longer?

Sure.

Should we have?

Good question.

Much remains to be seen outside the tourist stops.

We certainly could see more remains, more burial grounds.

We have learned more than we’ll remember, as usual.

I, for one, have a greater appreciation for the writings of Douglas Adams, knowing now why he seemed to have an obsession with doors, doors which “love nothing more than to open and close for passing users, and thank them profusely for so emphatically validating their existence,” after hearing announcements on the Tube and on our apart’hotel lift such “Please mind the door. Door closing.  Please mind the door.  Door closing.  Door closing.  Door closing.” repeated over and over sometimes before the door would finally close as if it was testing your patience or making absolutely sure that you were securely away from the door mechanism.

I felt again a love I held for a woman I can never call mine when I sat in Queen’s Theatre in London and listened to the excellent performances of current cast members, especially Rachel Ann Go singing anything and Eva Noblezada singing “On My Own”:

On my own pretending he’s beside me…
And when I lose my way I close my eyes and he has found me…