More London

Next day I went for a walk. This old lady was feeding a squirrel in Hyde Park.

"Sorry mate, no photos of the kids," says yer man. Sorry mate, too late!

McLaren F1 in Park Lane storefront window.

You can stay here next time if you sell enough records, says Chris.
Somehow I kinda doubt it.

The old buses are beautiful. The English do love their Gill Sans, too.

From the Millennium Bridge. London Eye at left, Big Ben and Houses of Parliament at right.

This guy gets paid to sit atop a horse looking silly all day.

Houses of Parliament from the south.

These guys actually exist, too.

They go to pretty extreme lengths to keep the royals from escaping.

Later we paid a visit to V23 headquarters, where Vaughan treated us to snacks,
peeks through his portfolios, and, stunningly, crushed-velvet-encased, plexiglass-bound,
personally-inscribed editions of a 1996 retrospective of his work, ours to keep.
Jesus. We'd've been happy with the snacks.
That's Christian of Sybarite second from left, and Ed from 4AD at right.

Vaughan also cut down a spoon from the tree in his backyard for John.
This will make more sense when you see the record.

Dinner that night with Jamie Tugwell, who was responsible for hooking us up with 4AD to begin with.
We spent most of the night trying to sell Chris and Ed on Refrigerator and Wckr Spgt. Really.

Back to Dublin

We had a farewell dinner on Saturday night with the Parkinson family.
That's John and Robert's mom, Eithne.

It could have been dinner with my own family, complete with bowls of fruit
and a chocolate dessert that slides right down. Coming back here after London
really crystallized my impression of both places: London was terrific fun, full of glamour
and heroes and mutual musical friends, like L.A. when we used to play shows with Further.
Flying back to Dublin was like cresting Kellogg Hill on the way back to the Inland Empire.
In other words, like coming home. Can't wait to see all you folks again in the new year!