Sure, the yoke-cut, (faux) pearl snap shirt was tied around my waist, but I’ve made no effort to act like a local. Still, I get asked for directions. As if.
(Why my sister would be suspicious of a Bass Pro bag?)
To be in England:
Coming up from a tube stop, in the evening’s twilight, a very young couple was backed into a brick corner, one of the streets, doing the deep mind probe, complete with tongue-tonsil tickling, and there ever so faint, pelvic grind. The guy stops for a fraction of a second. Girl reaches up and bops him on the head with a rolled up magazine. Young love.
The images from this trip start here. It’s a long tale.
(click to visit)