LONDON — Okay, let’s try this again: We arrived in London about noon local time after a nine-hour flight from Seattle. The flight was as good as a long, transcontinental trip can be, smooth and on time, with no drama on board. We had three seats in a row in the middle of the plane and somewhere over the ice cap Will chose to fall asleep across our laps, just as he did as a toddler. Here’s the difference: He’s now 5 foot 8, and Courtenay got his head while I handled size 11 feet for upwards of five hours.

A very friendly Italian driver picked up us at Heathrow and drove us the forty-five minutes or so into the city. It was a beautiful afternoon in London, sunny and all blue sky, and people were out in force picnicking, playing and running in Hyde, St. James and Green parks.

Bit of a snafu at our hotel, The Athenaenum, where the staff told us that are room wasn’t quite ready and suggested we take a walk and come back in twenty minutes. We did that, the room still wasn’t ready, and we took up their offer of free tea or other drinks while we waited. Ten or fifteen more minutes, they said. An hour later, we were still waiting, and waiting. Will and I took another short walk. Still no room. Finally, Courtenay approached the hotel staff yet again and yes, the room was now ready. It’s a beautiful apartment, worth the wait, I guess, with a pullout bed in the living room for Will. They, too, underestimated the length and shoe size of our 12-year-old: The robe they left for him hit him about mid-thigh, and the tiny slippers were hopeless.

We had to hustle out of the room because we had a 4:15 p.m. reservation for afternoon tea at Fortnum and Mason, a department store with a restaurant on its top floor. It was our first tea experience, which featured an amazing tier of sandwiches, scones with clotted cream and jams, and cookies and other treats. It was fabulous. We ate until we all pretty much faded into our seats.

After that, we walked through Piccadilly Circus, which is London’s neon-lit cousin in sleaze to New York’s Time Square, then strolled Regent Street, one of London’s major shopping thoroughfares, passed a half dozen popular pubs with scores of people standing and drinking outside and wound up cutting through Shepherd’s Market, a narrow alleyway of hip restaurants and bars, on our way back to our room.

We’re running on cakes and scones and no sleep right now, and fading fast.

More tomorrow. Hope all’s well back home.