Every night before we go to bed here in London Georgia and I watch a few episodes of the new season of House of Cards. That is our routine. Our lifeline to home. We have timed it out perfectly so the last night we are here we will watch the final episode. Clever little travelers are we….

Yesterday was more clouds and a bit of rain. It’s March. That’s what you get out here in the Atlantic Ocean. This country is basically Maine with better fish and chip shops.

Georgia found a gorgeous pair of jeans here that she bought and is having altered so we have to go back to the store and get them. The shop is in Soho and you know how much we dread having to go back to Soho. Like a drug addict hates stopping by Chumlee’s house.

That’s the cool thing about finding clothes here… you have a small window before that particular article of clothing hits the states that allows you to be cool and have everyone say “Darling! Wherever did you get that!” There will be no pictures of the jeans displayed because we know that you will all run to the airport, hop on planes to the UK and ruin our fun. That’s how competitive you all are. Shame on you.

We met a local friend for lunch at a pub. You heard me. We ate at a British Pub. I had parsnip soup and Lamb Wellington. None of you will recognize me when I get home. I wear an ascot now and sport a silver tipped cane. I also say “brilliant!” quite a bit.

We were so exhausted from all of our walking excursions that we decided to eat in. In typical rock star fashion we went to Harrods and bought a bunch of grub to bring back to the room. I guarantee that this is the first time that food bought at Harrods has ever been referred to as “grub.”

We bought a little of this, a ittle of that… a bottle of wine… twenty or thirty pounds of pastries… a light dinner. You know what? It is very inexpensive. I believe their attitude is…“why gouge you for a croissant when there is a guy on the next floor dropping a quarter mil on a diamond bicycle?” The whole meal was about fifty pounds. It felt very decadent riding the tube back home with overflowing Harrods bags and the smell of gorgonzola filling the car.

On our last totally free day we are going to tourist our brains out. We went to The Eye… the great big Ferris wheel that lets you look out over the whole of London while projectile vomiting. Then… wait for it…. High Tea at a beautiful hotel. Scones and watercress sandwiches. I know you will all insert your own jokes right here. I deserve them all. I hope they are not addictive because I am fairly certain that finding a good watercress sandwich in Nashville is going to be nigh onto impossible. (Possibly in East Nashville…BOOM! I said it! )  Maybe they offer BBQ sauce as a dipping sauce to southerners.

Soho calls. Cheerio. (I think there is something terribly American about the fact that you cannot type “cheerio” into an iPad without it auto-correcting to “Cheerios.”