poetry and dream.

All,
London london london is beautifully off-the-chain. We are starry-eyed and mere bebes in the realm of city navigation, but our hearts are light and our bank accounts becoming gradually lighter. But the money melting into thin air is spent well...fish and chips at a petite cafe, the occasional stolen Marlborough (stolen as in snuck in, not thieved!), wine shared three-ways, fruit stands spilling onto every street corner, double-decker buses, a traipse through the Tate Modern Gallery and Shakespeare's Globe Theatre. Inspiration is flowing like cool water, and our makeshift family of sisters is thriving and blossoming. Precious minutes are trickling by in this haggard basement Internet cafe, though...I must take wing to search high and low for hostels in the Amsterdam realm. We are fluttering from this brilliant city via ferry tomorrow, for I fear if we were to attempt staying a third night, we would be selling our bodies in the street to make ends meet...
Alas, no photos yet...copious amounts have been snapped, but I promise a full-fledged post sooner, rather than later.
Amour,
RB