After that we hit up Harrods and bought some sugary delicacies to eat in Hyde Park, where we sat on the crap-covered ground eating them because the chairs cost 2.50. That's right: wealthy enough to eat from Harrods, but too tight to pay for a chair to avoid duck crap.
A chick seeking donations came up to us, probably having noticed our expensive treats and thinking we were good for it, but Tilly genuinely couldn't get her malfunctioning wallet to open.
Postprandium, Alex, Til and I bought tickets to Les Mis for that night and said bye to Lucy. It wasn’t too sad, though, ’cause she’s coming out to visit early next year.
The next day we had to return to Norwich to move out of our accommodation, but we returned the night after for one more dinner with Alexandra. I’d been talking about how, every time the tube announcement that ‘there is a good service on all lines’ comes on, I feel like I’m a mindless drone in some dystopic Orwellian future with a voice constantly reassuring me ‘All is well, all is well’ so when we received the bill with a card urging us to give feedback (online, but whatever), guess what Alexandra wrote.