One day we took the train to York. We loved taking the trains; they are clean, plentiful and on time.
We only had time for a quick lunch and a walk into the older part of town.
York was crawling with tourists. Not so much Americans, but Europeans. It was a Sunday.
The next day was the London Marathon. While we saw runners at a distance, we had other fish to fry.
We took the Underground to the Tate Modern. It was one of my favorite parts of the trip. First we had a delicious lunch in the museum restaurant, and then we looked at all the art.
A small sampling of the art we saw there. There were four or five floors.
By the end, Dave's ankle was bothering him, so he relaxed while I gazed.
It's one of many bridges crossing the Thames.
That's me on the far right.
St. Paul's cathedral was at the other end of the bridge.
I had to snap a photo of one of the many taxi cabs. They were so cute, usually black but sometimes in wild colors like this one.
The next day, we boarded the train again, this time for Scotland.
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