Joe goes to.......London

I haven't been to London very often , having spent some years around that city during the ''swinging sixties'' I thought I'd had enough ...but when an opportunity arose recently I jumped at the chance to re-visit .
On arrival at Heathrow I was whisked by train almost to the door of my destination the Hilton Hotel in Paddington . Remembering Agatha Christie's '' 4.50 from Paddington '' , which became , thanks to Margaret Rutherford , '' Murder she said '' which in turn became '' Murder she wrote'' with Angela Landsbury the mainline station seemed to have changed very little from the sixties .
The Edgeware Road was almost like a different country , many of the people on the street wore traditional middle-eastern dress , the pubs and cafes had alfresco seating and many of the male customers smoked the hookah pipe . It all made for a very colourful scene enhanced by the famous black taxies and red London buses .
Strolling up to Marble Arch , which was much smaller than I remembered ( or did I grow BIGGER ?) I walked around Hyde Park and while resting on a park bench reading I gradually became aware of the traffic passing by and that almost ALL of the cars , with the exception of the black taxies were Beemers or Mercs....all looking brand new and shiney . Later on when I became familiar with the Congestion Charge I realised that probably only the very wealthy could afford to use the roads in that part of London .
The weather was good and following the dry spell the grass in Hyde Park was a light brown in colour.
Not being able to afford the Hilton I stayed in a very nice B&B , called the Tudor Court

Later , while sitting at a coffee table in the foyer of the Hilton waiting for my daughter , a waiter approached me and asked if I would like to order a drink.....well I thought 'why not ?' , so I ordered a Bailey's Cream . '' With or without ice Sir ?''....'' No ..no ice thank you '' sez I
When he arrived back with the drink , in a whiskey glass , the liquid barely covered the bottom of the glass ....a bare dribble ...so little that I was afraid to swirl the liquid around in case it might all stick to the side of the glass and disappear altogether .'' That will be £7.50 , Sir '' sez the waiter , I muttered something about how the ice would have made it look more , '' would you like ice Sir ''sez he .....As I paid up (plus a tip of .50p ) , I reckoned that that hotel must get about
£180 to £200 dribbles out of one bottle of Baileys ....if Ireland exported nothing else we could solve our economic problems on BC alone....
As I was about to sip my drink , my daughter arrived ( eventually...) and said '' Ah ,I see you have finished your drink Dad , let's go !''..... I gulped down the precious liquid , licked the glass , and galloped out after her .....