Wednesday: Kensington Palace

I hate public transport – it’s official. And on Don and Lorna’s last day in Blighty and on their very last outing it conspired to drive us absolutely loopy, round the bend and off our heads. Lorna was gulping down Migraleve as we sat in a tunnel with Amelia announcing (rather pointlessly as we were underground) “It’d be quicker to walk!” every two minutes. I’m very dodgy on the tubes anyway and only agreed to use them because it really was the quickest (hah!!) way to get the Kensington Palace. I was counting backwards from fifty to one and trying not to panic when the bored sounding tube driver announced “Sorry for the delay ladeezngennelmen, there is a delayontheline”. “It’s a dead body” Lydia hissed which caused a bit of alarm amongst the passengers.

Still, we arrived at KP, a mere two and a half hours after we’d left home and headed straight for the Diana exhibition. “She was such a lovely lady” Amelia said reverently whilst Lydia and I drooled over her dresses. We visited the Kings Staircase and I had another “moment” but it could have been the thought of going home by tube. While we had a reviving cup of tea in The Orangery, Lydia researched alternative routes home. I was all for ringing David or, failing that, Georges, Bea’s chauffeur. Princess Margaret’s apartments are amazing and we had a lovely walk around the grounds, standing there and looking at the main gates you could almost smell the flowers that were left in tribute to Diana following her death. Another emotional visit, this time for all concerned.

And then, hometime. There were major histrionics (mine) when Amelia suggested that I pull myself together and “just get on the tube”. Lydia had found alternative routes for buses and overland trains but quite simply the quickest was the Circle Line to Blackfriars and then an overland train straight into Nunhead. I bit the bullet and tried not to cry when, after five minutes, we stopped in yet another tunnel for about ten minutes. Even Amelia began to look worried as I went “paler and paler” – it was only focussing on the fact that she’d be getting the thin edge of the steak for dinner that night that kept me going.

Guilt presents: A sword letter opener for David, London In a Bag for Mac and nothing for the dogs.