How Things Turned Out

The weekend turned out to be a washout in more than one sense of the word. The rain came down steadily, incessantly, drenching London in a dreary and dismal blanket of tears, or so it seems, looking back. The winds were strong, and the air was chilly. It was a brave move on my part, taking time away from studies to join her on a jaunt through the city. Well, the London Eye was good – which we managed to board only on Sunday, after it broke down yesterday – as was Chicago the musical, the Tate Modern and Portobello market as well, plus gastronomic offerings from the Gay Hussar, Belgo Centraal, Royal China and Veeraswamy. We walked a lot, talked a lot, umbrella in hand, sometimes with a chai latte, and sometimes with waffles and ice cream. I guess it was nice. We saw quite a bit of the city - as far west as Notting Hill, as far east as Liverpool Street, and traversed along much of the South Bank too. But given how things turned out, perhaps I could have remained in my room, swotting and cramming away. I should have realized that there are just some things over which I'd never really have a say....