We’re back in the UK, in London for a couple of weeks, and then on the canals and rivers for more adventues on Wharram Percy.

The pub was long a mainstay of British life, being at once bar, social center, entertainment venue, gambling den, and in some cases even a place to eat. Times change, though. Pub food has got better, but far fewer people drink and drive, and many immigrants to the UK have no tradition of social drinking. So, pub buildings change into other sorts of venue. Last night we had an excellent Lebanese meal…

… in a pub called Crocker’s Folly, noted for it’s marble counters and ornate decor dating back to the 1890s.

Frank Crocker was attempting to cash in on the proposed terminus of the Great Central Railway by building a magnificent establishment for the refreshment of weary travelers. It included several bars, including one for women only. Unfortunately for Mr Crocker the railway station ended up at Marylebone a mile away, he lost out financially, and the whole genre of Victorian lesbian railway erotica went unwritten.

This morning we walked out through St John’s Wood Church Gardens…

and up St John’s Wood High Street. I was excited to see a pub named after a scientist…

However, the building now houses a restaurant called The Ivy.

Meanwhile on Church Street, a bit south of us, the grand old Duke of York…

is now the Original Lahore halal restaurant.

However, the Windsor Castle is still a pub.

The are celebrating the royal wedding with a life size cardboard cutout royal family on the balcony.

Or perhaps that’s the real royals and the ones carrying out the official duties are the cardboard cutouts. It’s hard to tell. In any event, they seem to have left out Phil the Greek and Charlie, which is probably just as well.

Aside from pub spotting, we visited Abbey Road…

and Regent’s Park.

The duckpond there has a pretty cosmopolitan bunch of waterfowl. As well as the native greylag geese and the invasive and subversive Canada geese, there are also Egyptian geese, notable for their kohl rimmed eyes.

This is momma coot and baby coot.

Judging from that bald head on the baby, momma coot was messing around with a vulture.

The Eurasian Wigeon.

The common pochard and the red crested pochard.

The tufted duck and the carrion crow.

OK, I know the carrion crow is not technically a waterfowl, but it’s a nice photo so it’s going in the blog anyhow.

By now you’re probably sick of waterfowl (and who can blame you) so how about some towers and flowers. To the south of the park, the Post Office Tower looms, a landmark so exciting that when it was first built that it housed a Doctor Who villain.

When I see it I still feel the urge to hide behind the sofa.

At the north west of the tower is a mosque.

Why has nobody connected the two with a zipline?

Here are some flowers and a fountain with merpeople.

But the very best thing about Regent’s Park is the name of the yellow roses that they have planted in front of the restrooms.