Belated Euro Pictures

All in random order, some representative snaps of a truly lovely trip:

Bloomsbury, where we stayed, and the (fictional) location of Black Books!

My favorite cantankerous old buzzard

Possibly my favorite part of air travel

Me and Nelson's Column

And enter we did

Abject terror at the London Dungeon

Interesting

Trafalgar Square

All of London at our feet and we're on a playstructure at Regent's Park

The martyrdom of St. Pancras

Camdentown, London

Joan Turner.

The Man Himself

Awesome old 8mm camera we found at Granddad's. "You'll never get your paws on that, it's going straight to David as inheritance." - Granddad

The (very young) Turners. My mum on the left!

Completion of the ropes course!

Arrival of The Others

My favorite picture of Ross and Nicki :)

Low tide at the beach where my dad grew up

These old faithfuls had their last hurrah on Grimsby Beach

Olga, the beautiful spy

Ross and my dad's little sister, Jude

Seige

Waiting for the train, a bit too much Irish coffee

This is the best hat I have ever worn

Busby lies in wait

Ben overcome with Parisian emotion

Busby > La Tour

An anthem, to be sung at full volume while rolling through the English countryside:

I hope that our few remaining friends

Give up on trying to save us

I hope we come up with a failsafe plot to piss of the dumb few that forgave us

I hope the fences we mended

Fall down beneath their own weight

And I hope we hang on past the last exit I hope it's already too late

I hope the junkyard a few blocks from here

Someday burns down

And I hope the rising black smoke carries me far away and I never come back to this town again

In my life

I hope I lie and tell everyone you were a good wife

I hope you die

I hope we both die

I hope I cut myself shaving tommorow

I hope it bleeds all day long

Our friends say it's darkest befor the sun rises

We're pretty sure they're all wrong

I hope it stays dark forever

I hope the worst is'nt over

I hope you blink before I do

I hope I never get sober and

I hope when you think of me years down the line you can't find one good thing to say

I hope that if I found the strength to walk out

You'd stay the hell out of my way

I am drowning

There is no sign of land

You are coming down with me

Hand in unloveable hand

I hope you die

I hope we both die

::Mountain Goats - No Children::