fish-induced coughing

I've had this wracking cough for a couple of days now -- no other real symptoms (my nose isn't even plugged up), perhaps just a slight headache, but a cough that won't quit. Perhaps the fish that I dug out after five years in storage had some form of toxin that has now embedded itself in my lungs?

In other news, I'm in London; the cough meant that I only slept for a couple of hours on the plane, so I'm super tired despite the nap that I took this afternoon. The flight was uneventful (we landed early), and I made it through immigration/customs, onto a train to London, onto the Tube to Victoria Station, and around the corner (well, around a couple of wrong corners before finding the right one) to my hotel in less than ninety minutes, which wasn't bad at all. My hotel is super cute -- it's v. close to Buckingham Palace, and has this sort of old-fashioned English country house vibe going (the floors creak under the heavily-patterned carpet, and the walls, drapes, bedspread, and headboard are all upholstered/made out of the same tweedy brown striped material). But the bathroom is killer (not in Adit's 'assplosion' kind of way -- in the sense that it's spacious and has nice toiletries), and there's more room than one would expect of a London hotel room.

When I got to the room, I promptly and unfortunately slept for two hours, then forced myself to wake up, shower, and go downstairs for afternoon tea. The tea was delightful; they had little finger sandwiches (which I ordered again from room service an hour ago), and their scones and clotted cream were ridiculously good. After tea, I walked over to Knightsbridge (through Hyde Park Corner, home to several monuments including the Australian War Memorial that I loved on my last trip, and past the gates to Hyde Park) and browsed around several shops looking for a jacket. I don't need a jacket here, but I'm reconsidering the folly that led to me sending my coat back to California with John and Jess. However, I didn't find a coat; my first stop was Harrod's, which, while delightful to browse through (including the weird memorial to Princess Di and Dodi al-Fayed in the basement), was about 5x more expensive than I was willing to pay for a coat. I went through several more shops, but coats are all but out of season here, and so I just walked away with a new nightgown from Monsoon.

I made it back to the hotel a little after seven, and I've been generally slogging since then (with a substantial break to eat finger sandwiches, drink tea, and catch up on my favorite gossip blog). And now, it's time for bed; I have to get out of bed in time to get to the London office for the 8:30am start of the big boss's all-day staff retreat, and having some tea beforehand is mandatory for my health (particularly since tea seems to quiet the fish beast for a few minutes). Goodnight!

But one final, v. important note before I sign off: happy birthday to Uncle Mark! You may know him as the commenter who often leaves genealogical-themed comments on the blog, but I know him as so much more. Happy birthday!