THE LAST half of my sabbatical brought me to several capitals of Europe. After my spiritual renewal sessions and retreat in Ireland and Scotland, I came to London just in time for the opening of the Olympic Games. We watched the event in a town square with a giant screen. It was spectacular!
A naked man clambered atop a large equestrian statue in the heart of London’s Whitehall government district Friday, striking a variety of precarious poses before being coaxed down by police nearly three hours later.
It’s a mystery tour, but it’s hardly magical. More than nine miles (14 kilometers) from the striped crosswalk made famous by the Beatles album “Abbey Road,” this drab transit station in east London keeps drawing confused fans of the Fab Four into unwanted jaunts through a gritty, industrial area just south of London’s Olympic Stadium.
After the historic and spectacular London Olympics 2012, spaholics know that a side trip to the City of Bath is a rewarding experience, even just to marvel at the best-preserved spa from the ancient world—the Roman Bath in the City of Bath in Somerset, southwest of England.
We need to talk about the weather. Summer arrived with unusual severity and is now the wettest on record. The utterly dismal weather has given us nothing but record rainfalls, scattered thundery showers, waterlogged and windy conditions, with flooding in places up and down the country.
With the 2012 Olympics just around the corner, London will definitely be in the spotlight in the coming months. But even if you aren’t flying in for the main event, there’s a lot to do in jolly old England besides the requisite sightseeing.
London transport bosses on Thursday banned an advert that was due to be displayed on the side of its famous red buses which suggested that therapy could stop people from being gay.
Alexander McQueen launched the autumn/winter range for its McQ label in London on Monday, flaunting military-inspired twists on British design classics as a fairytale cottage pumped out techno beats.
I’ve always had an affinity for vintage. While most girls swoon over Topshop’s latest mini-dress, my day is made by a poufy dress that screams “Dynasty,” or a blouse that seems to belong to grandmother. I love breathing new life into something old, borrowed and, most of the time, ugly.
Andrew Lloyd Webber says London’s Olympic Games will force most of the capital’s theaters to close for the summer.
There has not been much to ho-ho-ho about. But I find the detritus of gift-wrapping paper all around me; my lovingly adorned Fraser fir is lit up; the holly wreath is on the door.
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