To Market, To Market

We had one of those mornings...the alarm went off, we hit the snooze button. The alarm went off, we hit the snooze button again. Finally around 10am we made it out of the hotel room. Today we are shopping! We took the scenic route through Little Venice which is nothing like Venice, Italy and is most definately "little". We strolled down Portabello Road with Adeline singing the song from Bednobs and Broomsticks along the way. The Toilet situation here in Europe is always risky business. Like for example this public toilet in the middle of the street where one person can enter through an electronic door, do their business and then it will self clean before the next patron enters...quite an experience. Needless to say Adeline would rather hold it all day than try her luck in one of those.

A Cupcake shoppe was too much of a pull for me to pass up...chocolate with pink frosting and sprinkles are delicious in any country!

St. Pauls Cathedral was next on our docket. We enjoyed an incredible audio tour on individual ipods that had headphones attached and told you about everything as you walked around the place. T, and the kids all took the 600 plus stair climb to the famed whispering wall that goes around the inside and outside of the dome at the top of the cathedral. I enjoyed the organ music and sturdy chair at the bottom:)

A.J. wanted to try a "Proper Roast Dinner" so of course we hit a traditional pub for dinner. A traditional roast dinner (in case anyone cares) includes: a roast meat of some sort, ( tonight it was beef) mashed potatoes, gravy, a yorkshire pudding( which is a kind of bready pop-over), roasted vegetables, (carrots and green beans) and lastly roast potatoes (think crispy on the outside, creamy in the middle).

We spent hours in the Covington Garden area of London wandering through the markets which sold everything from fruit to jewelry to lip gloss shaped like Krispy Kreme Doughnuts...and no, I didn't get one on these.

Because he didn't get his "fix" last night, T had to polish off another Turkish Kebab at the local shop that now consider him a regular...I call the owner T's BFK (Best Friend Kababer)...I, you guessed it...had chocolate instead!