Our last day in London proper started with my Hyde Park run, another visit to an ATM, check-out, and a walk to Piccadilly Circus. We had a few hours to kill before our scheduled Rock Tour, tired of wandering through Palaces, Castles, Monuments, Tombs, Temples, Museums, and Churches. 

We stumbled across the Savil Row Concurs, a display of high-end cars in the premier fashion district. My wife refrained from shopping and agreed to go to The Hard Rock Café, founded in London. I figured it would be an appropriate start to visiting some of the homes, studios, and haunts of British Rock Stars – the real English royalty as far as I’m concerned. I’ve always been enamored by lets say Freddy Mercury and Queen rather than Queen Elizabeth. 

As we waited for the guided tour to start, we sat on the steps by the statue of Frederick, Duke of York 1766-1827. The dome of St. Paul’s loomed in the distance, along with Union flags hanging above the streets from the recent coronation ceremonies. As expected, our long-haired, British  tour guide, Ian, showed up late, ala stoner Jeff Spicoli from the movie Fast Times at Ridgemont High, in an oversized van. It turned out to be as much a pub tour, seeing where the London superstars of music, Hendrix, Morrison, the Fab Four, Pink Floyd, Clapton, Freddy Mercury, Elton John, Jim Morrison, and Jimmy Page held court. We stopped by the famous Royal Albert Hall where Asa was performing a sound check, visited a tiny record store specializing in vinyl, and drove by the secluded homes and apartments where they lived and some died. Needless to say, we couldn’t see much in passing. A walk across the zebra crosswalk on Abbey Road was a highlight, and well hidden studios where the legends recorded were often identified with round, blue historic plaques. 

Dinner was at Baozilnn for dim sum in Chinatown, followed by a bit of a stroll to the Vaudeville Theatre on The Strand next door to where we saw Ain’t Too Proud to Beg when we first arrived in London four days ago. The musical, SIX, was an all female performance by six powerful vocalists and a talented instrumental trio.  It was about the six wives of Henry VIII, thinking of Herman’s Hermits’ hit “I’m Henry the 8th I am.” Fortunately, it was short in length, since it was late and we needed to taxi to 47 Park to pick up our luggage and then continued on to Heathrow. As we waited to check-in at the airport Renaissance, a  breaking news bulletin announced the death of the Queen of Rock and Roll, Tina Turner at age 83. It truly was a day of Rock and Roll reflection.