I spent the day cleaning, packing, and working on a list of all the places I visited on this trip. I haven't finished the list yet as it requires rereading the entire blog. As I read, I realized there were a lot of things I had planned to do, but I ran out of time. I could make an equally long list of the places I didn't visit on this trip. London is a treasure trove of things to do.

At some point after lunch, I walked over to Joseph Grimaldi park again and did find the art installation by Henry Krokatsis, An Invitation to Dance on the Grave. It was in the same annex of the park as Grimaldi's grave, but in the opposite corner. I danced on it, but most of the tiles no longer played notes. The two casket shapes of the installation were inscribed--the casket on the right with Joseph Grimaldi and the one on the left with his mentor, the English dramatist Charles Dibdin.

We left the flat some time after five and headed to Picadilly Circus and the Harold Pinter Theatre to see Nice Fish. We first had dinner across the street before the play but were in our seats with about thirty minutes to spare. The couple next to us struck up a conversation when they heard our accents. It turns out they are history professors from Ontario, one teaches at McMaster University in Hamilton and the other teaches at the University of Western Ontario in London. They were here for two weeks doing research on a joint book project about love letters that were written almost daily from 1911 to 1919 between a Canadian man and an English woman.

But I digress. The play Nice Fish was written by Mark Rylance and Louis Jenkins (a Minnesota/Oklahoma prose poet), and directed by Claire van Kampen. It stars Rylance and Jim Lichtscheidl, as well as Kayli Carter, Raye Birk, and Bob Davis. It was originally commissioned by the Guthrie Theater in 2013, and played last February/March in Brooklyn at St. Ann's Warehouse (where we tried to get tickets, but waited too long and then they were sold out). The set, designed by Todd Rosenthal, was very cool, but I can't imagine how he pulled it off in Brooklyn, given that space. The entire play is set on a frozen lake in Minnesota. It grew out of a collection of poetry by Louis Jenkins. It is funny, yet serious, with some wonderful observations about humanity. And it is always interesting to watch Rylance's delivery.

Tonight is our last night. I've showered, the towels have been washed and are in the dryer. (I didn't run the extra rinse cycle with the fabric softener and I hope they don't notice.) The alarm is set for 7 AM so that I can wash the sheets before we leave for the airport at noon. We'll leave only one towel that will have to be laundered by the land-people.