'Ello 'ello 'ello. It's time for my afternoon tea break, and I'm sucking down orange-and-current-studded teacakes with jam and a big cuppa. I'm sure the ratio of jam to bread is too American, but it can't be helped. My chicken tikka masala on a jacket (potato) didn't get eaten for lunch due to a scheduling conflict, so it's bread and jam or bust.

So, hi. How's it going? It's been a few busy days for me. First there was the delayed flight from ORD but the World Traveler Plus status made up for it. It's...somewhere between coach and business, I think, but more business. Fannnntastic. (Thanks, boss!) I got a packet on my wide seat with a blanket and sleep mask and toothbrush/paste and socks and headphones to help my 8 hours pass well. They served as much tea as I wanted--unlike the US, the coffee must be made on demand but the tea flows freely--and beer/wine/drinks to those who needed something extra with their meals. We had 14 movies to choose from and all I could do is stare blankly at House of Flying Daggers as my brain switched off. Luckily, I had already reclined with legrest so I was quick to nod off.
Too bad it was interrupted by the kid sitting behind me who thought my armrest was his footrest (um, NO) so I was jostled out of sleep, whacked his foot off my armrest, and we repeated this routine a few times.

The kid shouldn't fly with the big boys if he can't play nice.

He 'made up' for it by pulling on the pocket on the back of my seat appx 4,000,000 times for the last 90 minutes we were in the air.

If I hadn't been full of food and tea and packed into my seat like a baby in a snuggly, I would have read that kid the riot act. I just gave him the stinkeye instead.

Landed, breezed thru customs for the first time in my life (getting off the plane first has many, many advantages) and headed for Paddington on the train. The sun was bright and I didn't feel jet-lagged or tired or anything less than ready to start my day in London.
I had forgotten that while the major Tube stops were escalatored, most of the minors were loads of stairs that I had to lug HubbaBubba up and down. I got my exercise on the way to the Swissotel Howard, and then fell in love with my room. I am still weirded out by the Lavazza machine 3 days later. Tea shouldn't be made with an espresso pod. It's just wrong.

(It's also free, and with an exchange rate of $1.88 to the pound, free is where it's at.)

I also marvelled at my shower/tub. The Europeans have an odd relationship with their showers, eschewing curtains and doors for getting the bathroom floor sopping wet. This hotel (unlike the last one where the bathroom *was* the shower) has a weird half-window that protects the toilet from the shower spray but the rest of the floor is fair game. It's weird, but like everything else it's easy to get used to.

Wandered the 3 miles down the Thames amid rain showers to the Tate Britain for an exhibit closing Friday. I stood in line for tickets to the show five hours later, and wandered the free museum for a while. As much as I like art, it's a gut reaction. Either I like it or I don't, and I move on. I felt sorry for the entire rooms I passed thru in 45-60 seconds, but there you have it. I definately needed at nap by this point, so I searched for the elusive Pimlico stop (it's supposed to be here! right here! the map says so... WARNING: imminent breakdown ahead without immediate napping) headed home and then returned at 7p for the 'Turner Whistler Monet' exhibit.

It was, in a word, AWESOME.

Then home via Covent Garden to find some cash and food (did both, luckily, due to the above-mentioned exchange rate) and then crashed hard on 4, read 'em FOUR, down pillows.

Did I mention I love my hotel?