The Literary London Pub Walk

May I first apologise for not updating this blog as usual as I do at least immediately after meetings, it was due to having too many eggs in my basket and had to roll carefully. None of them cracked, needless to say broke, so it’s alright. Thanks to those who will worry for that… don’t ask me what. Hehehe

Well, Wednesday was good as we all trudged on behind David from the London Walks (or whatever the guide company is called) like sheep and shepherd. The stops were unannounced and come as a surprise. Surprise because most things one has always lived with, seen every minute, disregard and don’t notice tend to be of a new significance. I wished you came with us – the windowsills, the door design, the phenyl, and lot more. Sometimes too, the walk goes so boring that legs as good as mine (is it really good?) begin to complain.

And talking of legs, it was so unexpected that no one volunteered to put me on their back for the 3 hour walk; now I can hear some conservationist grumbling… but that’s true. Thanks to Sharon who only took notice and kept me going with her off and on company.

So that brings me to the most interesting thing I learnt from the homeless-exercise – if you think its not, tell me what it could be. Do you know that those match-box huts found in some places in the centre of the great city of London were built for cabbies? Blimey!!! It was so interesting to hear that the little things I use to think were century-old public toilets are rather specially named as Cabman’s Shelter, erected through the Cabman’s Shelter Fund and even once hosted Frank Sinatra’s informal solo concert for some brave Cab men down at Park lane. Now don’t you wish you are a taxi driver? Cheeky.

Ok! Here ends the reading of the first lesson (as my Anglican church will say – as if it means, don’t read your bible again till the next… whatever).