London

We've arrived in London. We left out suitcases at Heathrow and came into town with just our carryons stuffed with what we need for one night.

While the hotel got our room ready we made our pilgrimage to Forbidden Planet. We're capable of spending a lot of time there, but after just an hour and a half Kristiana commanded me to remove her before she could add further to her growing stack of book purchases. Fearing for our luggage weight allowance, I agreed.

Now we're checked in at our hotel. For reasons mysterious to us both we have been upgraded to what I call a large, oddly-shaped room and what the hotel calls a suite. To me a suite implies space subdivided somehow by an interior doorway which our room lacks, but no matter, it is large and comfortable and above the city's noise.

Besides our bed, topped by a four foot square light green pillow like some sort of great woolen turndown mint, there is a sitting area with coffee table, a walk-in closet, a long bathroom with dual taps and separate tub and shower, and a desk slash master control station with enough outlets for a small press corps' worth of cell phone chargers (if they didn't want to use the 71-button - I'm not kidding - room telephone). The hanging lamp is decorative, and there are framed kimonos on the walls. The chief reminder that we are not really the sorts of people that a hotel puts in its _best_ suites is the view, which features an interior courtyard of roofs and ventilation ducts.

Plans for tonight are not set.