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This isn't our first first trip to London. That was back in 1999, where we recovered :-) from a family reunion that took place the week before in the Austrian Alps, in Mühlbach am Hochkönig.

The very end of April, 2002

We're heading back from Münster to the UK, where we'll be spending another few days in London before heading west, to St. Ives.

Of course, we take the trains. Isaac was adopted as the favorite mascot by a travelling bunch of soccer hooligans who were on their way back from the continent to the UK. They were polite hooligans, to be sure, and drunk beyond belief (something which stretches my belief frequently in these parts). We had a great time with them, even if none of us understood a single word of their soccer story. But there were a lot of them, most with matching jerseys, happy to have seen their team play in Paris. They gave Isaac a pound [coin], which he pocketed (now that he has pockets).

We're back at La Townhouse Brasserie, on Coptic Street. The matresses are back on the floor, in their baby-safe configuration, and Isaac is happily sitting in the magazine box. It feels so good to doff the backpacks.

Just being here is excuse enough to stroll around London. We can sleep when we're older :-) Somewhere near Buckingham Palace we stumble across a rather large number, and variety, of military uniforms. It turns out today is ANZAC Day. From the ANZAC Day Commemoration Committee of Queensland site:

ANZAC was the name given to the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps soldiers who landed on the Gallipoli Peninsula in Turkey early on the morning of 25 April 1915 during the First World War (1914-1918).

As a result, one day in the year has involved the whole of Australia in solemn ceremonies of remembrance, gratitude, and national pride for all our men and women who have fought and died in all wars. That day is ANZAC Day - 25 April.

Every nation must, sooner or later, come for the first time to a supreme test of quality; and the result of that test will hearten or dishearten those who come afterwards. For the fledgling nation of Australia that first supreme test was at Gallipoli.

Here we see a French general, if memory serves, presenting a wreath.

Security was quite in force, and I saw the police officers in day-glo yellow jackets keeping the crowds at bay. Now I'm not sure whether it was my bright yellow mountaineering jacket, or my height, or that I was herding Isaac, but we got really good access to the festivities.

This gentlemen led one of the marching bands. We followed them until they boarded their bus. He removed his tall hat and took a breather. Rose - who has a band / orchestra background - and Isaac watched the goings on in the bus. It's hard keeping track of all those musical instruments and épaulettes.

Then we turned our attentions to Buckingham Palace.

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