Diplodocus, Friends and Ghosts

Last week I returned to the UK for a brief break from work, and met up with Harriet in London. We had a few days together and made the most our time by visiting both The Natural History Museum and The National Portrait Museum. As soon as you enter The Natural History Museum you walk straight up to a massive sauropod dinosaur called Diplodocus who has been on display there for over 100 years.

It's an impressive sight that stops you in your tracks. Diplodocus has a few friends for company: here's one, a Giant Sloth.

So why did we visit the Museum other than to look at old fossils and skeletons? To view the Wildlife Photographer of the Year exhibition. We both love and appreciate amazing photos, especially wildlife in its natural habitat. It was all quite a shock to the system, coming from the stunning high mountains in Méribel to be immersed within one of the busiest capital cities in the world though.

The contrast in scenery couldn't have been greater. Coming from twee, secluded, quiet, rustic Alpine Savoyard achitecture to suddenly being underneath The Lloyds Building was quite a shock. Even other (less ugly!) high-rise office blocks within the City seemed to affect me. Not sure why, was it being down at sea-level again? I remember feeling like this last winter when I left the high-altitude environment and was suddenly dropped briefly down in London. Is it similar to 'The Bends' I wonder? But I swear I saw ghosts sometimes!?!

Anyway, a strong coffee in Starbucks, and a stiff talking to myself pulled me out of such nonsense. I put on a brave face and decided to continue enjoying the experience. Harriet and I were really keen to see 'The King's Speech'. Where else to go and see a film when in London, the West End of course. But before we went to the cinema, we visited The National Portrait Gallery nearby. Inspired by what I saw in the Gallery I pretended again to be a pro-photographer again at Trafalgar Square. Harriet being the willing model of course.

We still had plenty of time before the film, so we popped down the road to have a look at No.10 Downing Street, and then the Horse Guards.

I wish I understood what was going on with men wearing odd uniforms and funny helmets. However, it all felt very British at the time.

Hang on a minute, what the hell is going on here? Canon was trying to capture some of this Britishness when a ghost appeared behind this chap with a wonky helmet. Was it a ghost? Must have been, because what normal person in their right mind would spoil such a photographic moment?

It was no good, I suddenly reached my limit of being at sea level. I legged it to the nearest airport, and flew straight back to the mountains just in time before hitting the self-destruct button.I've had a brilliant time back at work since escaping. I've already had a couple of days' skiing with John and Gilly, who work in a place called London (!), and today I've been with James who works from Bermuda. Can't wait to tell you all about it in a few days time. In the meantime I need to visit a psychiatrist pretty soon, or perhaps the high altitude will continue to provide a natural cure.