"So there’s this vacuum--" I pause so a car doesn’t run me over as we cross Cromwell Road.
“A vacuum??” Connor laughs.
"There's this vacuum and his name is Henry and—”
(Another car.)
“Well it's like a brand of vacuum cleaners that are all named Henry. The vacuum hose connects to his nose, and he's got eyes and a smile."
I don’t know why Henry is the first thing that came to mind as I lead Connor towards the apartment Veronica and I stayed in when we traveled and studied here as 18-year-olds. We loved Henry. And profiteroles. And Jane Austen’s ghost, but we meet her later during our trip.
"The program coordinators showed us a straightforward path to class, but Veronica and I explored a bunch of different routes until we found this one."
I tell Connor about many ways in which we had paved our own path and created our own experiences in the city. Few others seemed to care as much about the Bayeux Tapestry as us so we spent a lot of time at museums and parks with each other.
I’ve shared this walk with everyone I’ve traveled with when I visit London. We weave through Kensington’s roads and mews and admire the beautiful architecture and end up at Montparnasse Café where we have delicious crepes. Today it’s Connor’s turn. Today I share with him some of the many places that hold sentimental value—Montparnasse Cafe, St Mary Abbott's church, the Natural History Museum, and Holland Park.
Our feet are still acclimating to this much walking, so we decide to join everyone else in Holland Park and take a nap under a tree.
I'm writing this while sitting on the wooden floor of Honest Jon’s records. The floor has fading orange paint along the wood grains that make it look like tiger stripes. The owner offers me a stool, and asks me if I'd like something to eat or drink.
Another employee answers the phone.
"Uh… rarely. What've you got? Uh huh. No, sorry."
They hang up, then call back.
"Do you want me to take it? It's your first night," the owner says. The employee nods.
"Hello? Yes, he's just stepped away. Yes, I'll let him know it's an excellent collection. Good luck with it. Bye."
“A vacuum??” Connor laughs.
"There's this vacuum and his name is Henry and—”
(Another car.)
“Well it's like a brand of vacuum cleaners that are all named Henry. The vacuum hose connects to his nose, and he's got eyes and a smile."
I don’t know why Henry is the first thing that came to mind as I lead Connor towards the apartment Veronica and I stayed in when we traveled and studied here as 18-year-olds. We loved Henry. And profiteroles. And Jane Austen’s ghost, but we meet her later during our trip.
"The program coordinators showed us a straightforward path to class, but Veronica and I explored a bunch of different routes until we found this one."
I tell Connor about many ways in which we had paved our own path and created our own experiences in the city. Few others seemed to care as much about the Bayeux Tapestry as us so we spent a lot of time at museums and parks with each other.
I’ve shared this walk with everyone I’ve traveled with when I visit London. We weave through Kensington’s roads and mews and admire the beautiful architecture and end up at Montparnasse Café where we have delicious crepes. Today it’s Connor’s turn. Today I share with him some of the many places that hold sentimental value—Montparnasse Cafe, St Mary Abbott's church, the Natural History Museum, and Holland Park.
Our feet are still acclimating to this much walking, so we decide to join everyone else in Holland Park and take a nap under a tree.
Hours later, we’re in Notting Hill, headed towards two record stores Connor is really excited to browse.
I'm writing this while sitting on the wooden floor of Honest Jon’s records. The floor has fading orange paint along the wood grains that make it look like tiger stripes. The owner offers me a stool, and asks me if I'd like something to eat or drink.
Another employee answers the phone.
"Uh… rarely. What've you got? Uh huh. No, sorry."
They hang up, then call back.
"Do you want me to take it? It's your first night," the owner says. The employee nods.
"Hello? Yes, he's just stepped away. Yes, I'll let him know it's an excellent collection. Good luck with it. Bye."
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