I loved London. The Big Smoke was one of the few cities in this country that I would have relocated to. Had the opportunity arose, I would have packed my life away and joined the rat race without giving it a second thought.
That was then, and now you couldn't pay me to give up my lovely home, or my beautiful son. Because living in London for me will mean leaving my son behind. Sounds harsh doesn't it? Well that's the conclusion I've made after my first trip to the city with my little boy. The mad rush, the escalators, the stairs. Where are the lifts? Forget people with pushchairs for a second, how do wheelchair users get around? Elderly people? Pregnant ladies! Is there a secret fund that pays for them to be chauffeured around the city? Oh wait, there's buses. You don't fit the criteria of the underground so you can't get to your destination as quickly as the rest of us. Go plonk yourself on a bus and see you in an hour.
I don't expect most people to see where I'm coming from, especially as I'm only seeing it now. I was one of those blind dumb asses running around madly in love with London. Then I opened my eyes. I realised how rude people are, how inconsiderate they are. All they care about is getting on that damn tube and reaching wherever they need to be.
My mischievous little boy must have picked up on the fact that mummy was stressing, so he was on his best behaviour. In actual fact he wasn't even bothered by London and slept through most of his trip, very unusual for him as he loves new places. Not so fussed by this one though.
My rant aside, we did manage to make it to the Magnum Store in Covent Garden where we personalised our own Magnum ice creams. I went for brownie, honeycomb and coconut flakes.
Baby A decided to wake up for M&M World which he thoroughly enjoyed and we brought him a teddy bear from Harrods as a souvenir.