“It’s the Ilona. It has a little helicopter on the back,” some business chap informed us as I stood taking a photo of this super yacht.
Mum wanted to know who the business chap was but I had no idea. Clearly another boat lover spotting a kindred spirit.
We were in Canary Wharf to move a few things around Mirinda’s flat.
As we went through the Jubilee shops, mum tried to sit on Santa’s lap but he was out for lunch. (The photo below is one of about 50. It was very difficult getting a moment without other people in it.)
Most of the ‘things’ that required moving ended up down stairs in the rubbish room. I always enjoy throwing things away so this bit was indeed a pleasure.
After a few hours of puffing and swearing (that was only me as mum was helping Mirinda with her DBA essay) we decided to go to Greenwich.
Why? Obviously because mum had yet to go on the DLR and she couldn’t really say she’d seen London if she hasn’t tried all the public transport options. (We didn’t tell her till we were safe at home that there was no driver.) Mind you, I still need to introduce her to the Airline.
Anyway, the other reason we were heading over to Greenwich was so I could show mum the Maritime Museum. I took her the long way, by the First Shop in the World (a fact she forgot almost immediately) and in the back door so we could sit and have some much needed lunch.
There was a slight confusion over green salad versus potato wedges but, essentially, lunch was a nice slice of quiche with the aforementioned wedges. It was then over to the ticket desk to buy ourselves two tickets to the current Samuel Pepys exhibition.
We thoroughly enjoyed it! Lots of objects from all manner of places (the Queen loaned quite a few) giving an insight into his life during the years of his diary (and a few either side for completeness). It was beautifully laid out as well. Nice and roomy without getting squished at all. Mind you, a nondescript Tuesday afternoon in early December is obviously a good choice as there weren’t that many others walking around with us.
I was going to take mum to the Painted Hall but her knees refused to countenance anything other than the ferry home so we headed for the river instead. (We’re going to try for the Painted Hall in January.) And mum met her first Clipper Nazi.
Mirinda always talks about these officious morons who insist that black is white regardless of the obvious. She often has to tell them off and, basically, set them straight. Well, this afternoon, mum and I happened to meet one.
First of all she kept confusing things by talking about a time due rather than how long before the ferry would arrive (this is what the electronic board says) then, much worse, she wouldn’t let us sit on the pier, on the seats reserved for passengers waiting for the Clipper, on the pier. Of course, mum’s knees weren’t to happy with that but the Clipper Nazi insisted it wasn’t allowed. Ever.
We went and waited by Byron Burgers because they have a window sill low enough for a poor, old person to lean their weary bones…there being no seats apart from the ones on the pier which are for people waiting for the Clipper. Naturally we made a bit of a fuss.
Eventually the Clipper Nazi came over and said she’d called god and he’d said it would be okay for us to sit on the seats reserved for passengers on the pier. I say she spoke to god because we watched her and she didn’t physically speak to anyone so it must have been some sort of divine conversation.
Anyway, this was but a tiny blip on an otherwise lovely day.
And, of course, Mirinda loved hearing about the Clipper Nazi.
