Many of you know that my daughter and her family live in London, and I try to trek over there annually. Here is what I learned on last year's visit.
At my Age I'm Disinclined to Dash
By foot : the best way to master London. Yes, there's always the Underground or a bus, double-decker and red, of course, or a personal car. But I'm suggesting ambulating only one, maybe two miles. However, not at the antelope clip set by my college-age grandson, and who is game for Tube Challenges with his mates. His idea of recreation. By the way, it involves sprinting. Let's keep it simple and say, I am the millstone that curbs his pace whenever he walks with me. Good news: I conquer the uphill part with ease. Bad news: it's becoming harder to breathe while climbing said hills. And downhill, mismatched cog wheels grind away in my bum knee. The solution lies before me - avoid any hills! Or, literally, stop and smell the flowers Londoners enjoy showing-off in their front gardens. Before an outing, the four of us (my daughter and son-in-law, my grandson and me) agree on what to them rings ho-hum: parade lap speed. But somewhere along the way, they morph into the raceway vehicles they are, leaving me in my pedal car barely within hailing distance. I've perfected the art of hollering.
Marilyn Aschoff Mellor
