Pool of London

So Strider and I did go to Docklands museum then walked back to London Bridge, which was a goodly number of steps although how many exactly only the Lord and my two sore feet can say for sure. Hostelries along the way included the Prospect of Whitby, the Grapes, the Town of Ramsgate, and the Dickens Inn. The Prospect is famous for its old floors, The Grapes for the staff of Gandalf as wielded by the Thespian McKellen, and the Town for its hangman’s noose. The Dickens is not famous for anything other than being in an old Victorian warehouse but is a pleasant enough place. We did not stop at The Captain Kidd, which I now regret; it looked a welcoming place in a courtyard of its own.

But enough of beer; we learned of ships, of the evils of slavery, of the growth of the docks and the plight of the poor. We ate, drank fine ales, and in our way we did cure many of the world’s ills (although I forget now what they were and how we proposed to end them - such is the way of beer in the afternoon, and it’s soporific effect; many a great idea has been lost through sobriety).

I did tire as the afternoon went on. I missed my afternoon nap, so have gone to bed this evening ready for sleep. ‘’Twas a good day, a day most excellent, but now Lethe calls …