By Thursday my feet were already screaming for a break. I brought along what I had considered for home use quite comfortable shoes, but when one goes from not spending the whole day on one's feet to walking several miles, I suppose no shoe is really going to be comfortable and cushioned enough.

Friday I was just sick of the thought of museums. The Boy was ready to head straight out to The National Gallery or The Science Museum, but I was not. We spent the morning catching up on the kids' journals, doing a little reading and just lying down for a bit.

I couldn't bring myself to not go anywhere at all though, so we headed out to a bookstore that my guide books recommended. All of us love bookstores, and my oldest has been itching to get to one ever since we landed on British soil, in the hopes of getting a look at the two Tintin books not sold in the US. I had been unable to convince him that neither Tintin in Russia, nor Tintin in the Congo was any where on par with later stories.

We descended upon Daunt Books and The Boy headed straight for the Tintin and Asterix section, while the girls flipped through picture books, unbelievably actually obeying my command to get out only one at a time. I grabbed some Famous Five books, which we all love and are hard to come by in the US and was unable to resist a book called Nicholas, by the author of Asterix. I have yet to read it, but my eight year informs me that it is hilarious. I could have waited to get that one back in the States, but I'm afraid I gave in to temptation.

After the bookstore, we wandered down the shopping lane of Marleybone High Street and I might have drooled on the windows of the Cath Kidston shop, but fortunately for my wallet, the double-wide stroller wouldn't have fit through the door anyway.

So home we went and then to the park conveniently located almost directly behind our flat, where I got to sit for a few minutes while the kids ran around.