Give me Liberty!

This was one of my father's requested stops, and I was more than happy to comply: Liberty! The shop started in 1875 and has grown from there into a vast and eclectic department store. Don't think Macy's, though -- think museum. It's a mish-mash of everything you could hope for, plus a few things you never knew existed. I was too overwhelmed to remember to drag out my camera for more than a few shots, but google-image this place for some wonderful weirdness.

 

 

 

Where is my Miss Lemon?

I apologize, because this post will be all boring photos of one building. This building becomes INCREDIBLY interesting, however, if you are one of my friends who enjoys the occasional television adaptation of British mysteries and recognizes this spot as the home of one famed Belgian detective, Hercule Poirot. Florin Court stood in for Whitehaven Mansions in the stories; the "Florin Court" sign is a better font, so I can't complain. My only goal for life London was to stand in front of his apartment: accomplished!

London town.

 I don't deal with jetlag well. I turn into a cranky, non-functioning mess. But when my parents arrived in London, after a sleepless overnight flight, they were a excited to drop off their bags at the flat and poke around the city. I don't know how they did it. They weren't even grumpy! They were chipper! We grabbed some shopping bags and walked the few blocks to the wonderful Borough Market -- it's one of the oldest in London. And oh, the piles of vegetables and fruits and cheeses! We snacked our way through the whole thing -- falafel! Raclette! Duck confit! Cheese puffs! Watermelon juice! -- and took home more for later, and with that, London was off to a wonderful start.

 

A pigeon buzzed my mom's head while I lined up a shot. This is my favorite photo from the whole trip.

 

Thanks, Dad!

So long.

One last look at our neighborhood in Edinburgh -- I left with a sigh. But on to London!  

Just out our front door... 

 

Irn-Bru

One vaguely sunny morning, we hiked up to the top of the cliffs on the edge of town, the Salisbury Crags. So much better than wandering up there in pouring rain and uncooperative ponchos. We celebrated at the top with a picturesque Irn-Bru break, Scotland's drink of choice (it has historically out-sold even Coca Cola).

 

 

Can you spot the wild emily? 

So this is Scotland?

The Museum of Scotland was a wonderful place to discover -- the second floor balcony cafe became my go-to spot for a leisurely afternoon of postcard compositions or finishing an Agatha Christie novel.

That shark is gunning for the t-rex.