Nearly every day on this trip we’ve gone somewhere serious and historic. We’ve been to an array of cathedrals, towers, museums and palaces. But yesterday, we decided to visit The Sherlock Holmes Museum. Tourist trap? Yes. Kitschy? Definitely. But I must admit, I was eager to go. I didn’t even care that we waited for nearly two hours, or that the place was maybe 1200 square feet of viewing pleasure after that long wait. I had ten minutes of pop culture pleasure. I took photos and bought souvenirs. I basically took the tourist bait, hook, line and sinker … and I have no regrets. I had my campy fun. And yes, it tied into our literary goals, as we read The Sign of Four, so no time was wasted on the academic front. But after a decade of watching Jeremy Brett as Sherlock, and now being totally hooked on the “Sherlock” series with Benedict Cumberbatch, I was frankly a little less concerned with the literary merits of visiting the “museum,” and turned into your garden-variety fan. So now I can say that I’ve been inside 221b Baker Street, and I can add that experience to all the other wonderful, proper, high-brow, literary destinations visited on this journey. DSC02117 DSC02118 - Copy DSC02161