So, this time in London with Son in tow has been extremely different than my last time here *mrharumph* years ago when I was a strapping young lad of 17 in search of the next pub that would serve me a pint. Now, instead of looking for pubs with clever names and barhands willing to overlook my clear underagedness, I’m trying to find playgrounds every day to keep my son entertained.
It’s funny, as we’ve gone to the Natural History Museum, Kew Gardens, Kensington Gardens, the London Zoo (so quaint how they call it the “Zed-Ess-Ell” London Zoo), Batttersea Park, The Museum of Childhood, and The Museum of Science, and all Son’s kept asking is “Where’s the playground?” Granted, we’ve found some awesome playgrounds (Battersea Park and the Diana Memorial Playground in Kensington Gardens are incredible), but the two he wants most to go back to are the ones in Kew Gardens and in the Zoo. Mind you, every other playground we’ve been to has been public (and thus, free), but he wants to go to the two where we have to pay for entry into an attraction that I’ll never see any of except the playground. Currently admission to Kew Gardens is like £14 for adults, and for Son and I the Zoo was £35 to get in. With the exchange rate at $1.61 per Pound, that’s steep for a playground.
Since it’s our last week here, I’m going to put my foot down, however… I’m going to drag Son to a few things I want to see: the Tower of London, Buckingham Palace, and possibly the V&A’s exhibit on “100 Years of British Design”. I think I’ll be bale to slip one more trip in to visit the Diana Memorial Playground, and maybe even head out to Battersea Park again, but this is Dada’s week.
We’re back to reality (i.e. the DR) in under a week and I’m looking forward to it, somehow. Probably because I know I have less than 2 months left at post at that point, and that is a much more manageable number than 6, 12, or 18. London has been a nice break from the tropics and the chaos of Santo Domingo. It’s been nice to ride subways, take taxis, and wander the streets. It’s been nice to go to the market and buy gourmet cheeses, meats, and produce and not have to worry about cholera, hepatitis, or other nasty critters. It’s been nice to wear a jacket or sweater almost every day. But the nicest part has been spending the days with Son, regardless of how frustrated I get with him on his constant quest for the ultimate playground.
There are worse things in life, I guess.
Cheerio until I’m back in GMT -4.