Rain, shine, rain, shine, rain, rain with shine.

We started off the day with a nearly twenty-minute soak in order to catch the closest Underground station (unfortunately, our usual was closed due to power outages)… during rush hour… along with everyone else who couldn’t catch the main line at Tower Hill.

How joyous does that sound? Sopping wet, vinyl-clad and sweating humans all piled into Tube cars with little to no breathing room (or pure, unadulterated oxygen).

Quite the treat, let me tell you.

My main gripe of today was all the walking and all the rain and all the walking in the rain. Had we been dancing in the rain, I might have had a different perspective, but walking is not my favorite sport, and as my podiatrist will tell you, it’s not a winning talent of mine.

However, I am here not only to complain, but to celebrate. So here are the celebratory sections of my day:

Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum

While New York’s establishment has much better wayfinding, the London location has much more to offer. “The Spirit of London” was a fascinating little ride smacked right in the center of it all. My absolute favorite part was the final walk-through: Star Wars. Young Han Solo will forever be my favorite character, and I got to sit in Greedo’s spot and challenge 1977 Harrison Ford to shoot first (albeit this Solo couldn’t exactly draw his blaster).

The exterior facade of a café where we had some lunch before heading over to the British Museum. The typography is modern, inviting, and fitting for the environment.

British Museum

I entered the British Museum with the intention of exploring the Egyptian mummy collection, and I was not disappointed. I was expecting sarcophagi and tombs and treasures, but never in approximately 30,000 years would I ever expect to see a genuine mummified corpse right in front of me (with only a single sheet of glass to keep it from coming alive and attacking me). I was also surprised at how much I enjoyed the pop art exhibit. Normally I dislike modern art; it seems too conceptual to me. But seeing these pieces in person is more fascinating and real and seems more like art to me (except the likes of Josef Albers; layering squares in a frame could merit an entire opinion column page in the Times).

Peter Rabbit

I’m sure many of my classmates will inform you, but after dinner at a nearby pub we got a tiny little quivering surprise. A baby bunny had wedged itself in the doorway of the pub, looking for a safe place to burrow. I had the honor of holding him snug in a jacket while we deliberated what to do with him. I’m glad to say he has been released in a pleasant little park on Tower Hill.