Day 20: Wicked

  This morning was dedicated mostly to running about town and grabbing a few souvenirs that had caught my eye. I haven't had as much of a shopping bug as I thought I would this trip, but I had decided there were a number of things that I actually did need after all. After nearly a month here I really feel like I know how to get around. Criss-crossing the city to patronize museum gift shops barely took a morning. Unexpectedly ending up with some time to spare I spent a couple of hours wandering around Notting Hill, and poking around antique shops on Portobello Road. Too soon I realized I couldn't postpone the inevitable, and headed back to Paddington to do laundry and begin packing.

 The anticlimactic mood was threatening to take over the rest of my vacation, but luckily we had planned dinner and a show for our final evening. So, after a afternoon nap and quick shower I joined the rest of the party in an early meal of Dim Sum. Full of delicious Chinese dumplings and tea we leisurely made our way to the theater where tonight we would be taking in the London production of Wicked. This musical retelling of L. Frank Baum's classic American fairy tale The Wizard of Oz features the Wicked Witch of the West as the protagonist. This musical clearly had the biggest budget of any performance I have seen here, and the incredible sets and costuming beautifully enhanced a wonderful score and book.
  The most astounding event of the evening, however, was a conversation with an older couple seated next to Sylvia and Steve. The gentleman on hearing our American accents inquired where we were from. We all smiled at the coincidence when we realised they were fellow Washingtonians, and they would be returning on the same flight as us the next day. But wait, here's where it gets really weird. They had also been on the very same flight to London three weeks earlier. We traded horror stories about the delayed flight, and marveled at the fluke that we would all happen to choose seats side by side at Wicked on our last evening in London. 'What were the odds?' we all wondered.

  The chance meeting with the husband and wife ran through my head as I lay in bed that night. The familiar accent and cadence of their speech had resonated in my mind. Tomorrow we would be winging our way back over the pond. Waiting for us was all our family,  friends, two dogs, a cat, and a little bungalow on Franklin Street.  As I fell asleep I saw ruby slippers clicking and heard a voice repeating 'There's no place like home. There's no place like home. There's no place like........'