After a filling British dinner, I walked back in the dark and hoped that a carriage would offer me a ride to London past.

They don’t make gates like this anymore.

Albert Memorial.

Loner lane.

Concrete vase.

Grandmother and girl look away from bronze horse penis.

Dredged serpentine algae.

Ducklings.

Peddle boats.

Lounge chairs on a rainy day.

Misleading sign.

Turban matches bag.

The littlest car in town.

No parking.

A Hummer in Mini’s clothing.

No Pacman found within.

Decortive band.

Kissing tear.

Garbage stroll.

Drainpipe.

Garbage.

Near fear of bricks.

Scenic stairs.

Hoboes need the most naps.

This lot had kegs and it knew how to use them.

Christo resorts to scaffolding in his later years.

Horse Cops is filmed on location.

Can I get some action from the dog section?

The next and last day, I had to sit in a casting office and decide the fate of a never-ending stream of hopeful actors.

I was feeling sad missing out on London, so I set the alarm for 5:30 in the morning and went for a walk before we left for the airport.

My route took me to Paddington Basin and back.

Look left.

Thank goodness.

Old sign.

Arched alley.

Sad church.

Peppermint lane.

Classy doorstep.

The secret garden.

Sophisticated lifestyle.

Parking.

Sleek buzzer.

The Queen’s what?

Paddington Station.

Let me just set your milk here.

Paddington Basin.

House boat.

Am I in the future?

Paddington luxury.

Lonely and industrial.

Fire escape.

Discarded bouquets near Royal Albert Hall.

While sad to leave London, I looked forward to morning walks in Prague.