Today we opted for traditional porridge (oatmeal) for breakfast. It was not the porridge I was used to from the UK and was basic oatmeal like we have in the U.S. Traditional UK porridge is like a sweet, creamy pudding and not spackle.
We drove to the Walton train station and headed for the London Metropolitan Archives in central London. Tanya helped me research there and she found some information I was looking for! I too, had some success. We ventured out for lunch and found a hip little cafe and had soup, sandwiches, and tea. We left the archives around 6:30 p.m.
I finally caught up with another friend, Peter, who was my cameraman in the Lost Worlds show I did on Deadwood. We met him at a neat little area called Smithfield, which was THE meat market from the 1800s and it appears it still does a similar business. Peter picked us up and drove us to a hip area called Convent Garden which used to be the fruit and veg market. Today it is a trendy mecca of restaurants and pubs crawling with people.
He took us to, of all places, a cute little French restaurant. Although I hadn't seen Peter for almost three years since our shoot, it was like it was yesterday. We reminisced, laughed, and had a great time. It was too late to catch the train so he drove us all the way to Walton on Thames. We picked up our car at the train station and made our way back to the Weir around 1:10 a.m.
As we pulled into a very dark parking lot we knew we were in trouble. No one had mentioned the procedure for coming in after the pub closed. We tried knocking, yelling, and then honked the horn. We tried calling, but we only had the pub number. We laid on the horn for a good forty minutes and no one seemed to notice. It was supposed to be the coldest night yet with a frost and we did not want to sleep in the car!
My husband recommended we call the police, which I did. Just as I did, the owner stepped onto the balcony. Now, I am not making this up and Tanya is my witness, but this man was in his BVDs and a t-shirt. That’s it! He says to us, “You know you’re laying on the horn.” I wanted to say, “No shit Sherlock, I’m freezing my a$$ off and you locked us out.” Instead, Tanya says in a very sweet voice (even though she’s pissed and I don't mean drunk) “We’re locked out.” He replied, “Go around the back and take the outdoor stairs.” Grr. How did we know? We truly believe he thought we were drunk, but were not. Finally at 2 a.m. we were back in our room so posting for that night.