A gala affair

This morning, I received approval for my vacation days between Christmas and New Years...I was really surprised to get it, as I'd been told I wouldn't get an official yes or no until October (because I will be on a different rotation when Christmas comes around, and there's no telling which one until October). Annette was standing next to me as I was wondering about getting approval back so early, and threatened me to within an inch of my life that I was still to attend the Connaught Day Hospital Christmas ball, even though I would be on a different rotation. Guess that gives me plenty of time to find a date.

I was in central London yesterday afternoon for an AMPS support meeting (check it out, I've updated my OT blog, about time!) which took place at The National Hospital for Neuroscience and Neurology, or something like that. It was near the tube station of Holborn (pronounced Ho-bun), which was where I had agreed with my parents to meet at 7:15 for a walk entitled "Ghosts, Gaslight, and Guinness."

I walked out of the meeting a little after 5pm, and started to wander around, looking for a place to eat. It took me awhile to realize I had voice messages on my phone, and my parents had actually sat down for tea at Harrods and expected me to join them. For whatever reason, you do feel very posh sitting on the balcony of the Terrace Restaurant at Harrods for tea, and my parents decided to do the whole high tea shebang, with scones, clotted cream, finger sandwiches, and desserts. We did manage to get back to Holborn in time for the walk, which was lead by Richard III. Not in costume, he's just the third Richard who joined the company as a guide. All of the guides I've had with "London Walks" have a flair for the dramatic- make that melodramatic- and this guy was no different. He'd build whatever story he was telling up to a crescendo and then exit stage left, leaving us to shake our heads and follow. His stories last night were mainly on the themes of murder, ghosts, and prostitution...the most recent ghosts being BBC radio hosts who died in 2000 and still haunt their old desks.

We enjoyed the walk, saw some of the only surviving, still working gas lamps in London, stopped for half pints of Guinness midwalk, I met some cute guys, and we learned the origin of the phrase "a gala affair." Back when Catholicism was outlawed and the king announced himself head of the Church of England, those Catholics who chose to continue in secrecy were sought out and hung (and/or drawn and quartered) as heretics. There were 8 days annually for these "gallow affairs" which drew big crowds and were kind of treated as holidays or a day out or whatever. If you say gallow quickly, you can see how it morphed into "gala." A bit grisly, given our use of the word these days for a celebration, but then again, I suppose that's what it was then as well, given humans' penchant for guts and gore (anyone go to see Hostel?).

My parents and I are off for York, Walworth Castle, and our murder mystery weekend early tomorrow morning, so my apologies but there won't be any more entries until Monday. But I'll have pictures to post again finally! Happy Easter to everyone, I'll be thinking of you all on Sunday, my love to all.