The Lawyer and the Lobbyist

Or so Blair Stransky and I were collectively referred to by another buddy this past Friday, the first time but likely not the last. (Also, like "The Bermuda Triangle" or "Paradise Lost", it is actually not a bad name for a future pub.) A great weekend visit - a few more inside stories (of sofa beds and markets, sunshine and moonlight, security guards and Andreas) to add to the long list, and the usual memorable conversations on where we are and where we are going.

House-sitting Cooper's apartment as I am while he is off on a quick jaunt through Bulgaria, the past week or so since returning from Iceland has offered a nice glimpse of life as a citizen in this great city. From afternoon cider drinking in the June sun on the Wimbledon Common, to an excess of Shakespeare and other plays as you like them, classic evening walks along the Thames, random encounters with young Irish girls sipping vodka on the double-decker bus, laughter at the multitude of hen parties and pub crawls you bump into on the Saturday, parties in Islington that can be crashed without anyone noticing, the ease with which you might see a substantial Henry VIII exhibition as well as the Magna Carta and Captain Cook's Journal (amongst other marvels) at the British Library, and of course the traditional pub Sunday roast dinner with the Sunday papers... it all remains very expensive, but it is all very good.

Blair sighed just before leaving today: "It's not fair that you don't have to work tomorrow." It has been awhile, and so my half-joking reply: "Work? What's that?" actually held an element of truth. I continue to find it strange how natural new routines can become, and how quickly. The current routine is not one to be traded away, certainly - to come back to the apartment and remember that a few centre court Wimbledon tickets go on sale on Ticketmaster at 8:30PM, and then luck into the privilege of paying a heavy price to see the likes of Roger Federer and Andy Murray at the 'Cathedral of Tennis' itself. Having already seen Nadal last year at the US Open, I cannot wait until tomorrow to see these other geniuses live in action.

The plans for the return from Asia are also close to settled, and soon the lone question mark in the "rough itinerary" on the right-hand side of this page can be replaced (with Scotland and Strasbourg, it looks like). Accommodation has even been found and confirmed, finally, for Oktoberfest. It's now just Wimbledon tomorrow, British Museum and Waiting for Godot (with Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellan!) on Tuesday, and another Canada Day in London on Wednesday before our flight to China. Beautiful.

And so it goes on, randomly and wonderfully. As the Stones sing: "Baby I can't stay / You got to roll me / And call me the tumblin' dice."

Yes. Roll on, glorious summer. Roll on.