LONDON — Today, the London Eye and a Thames Clipper jaunt to Greenwich, of Greenwich Mean Time and the Prime Meridian. The weather was mostly clear today, so we rode the Eye to see the view. It was OK, but Will and Rick had already climbed St. Paul’s and the Monument, so they were used to the view and weren’t overly impressed. We then jumped on a commuter boat to Greenwich, a few miles downriver, where King Henry VIII and his daughter Elizabeth were born. After a meal in the riverside Trafalgar Tavern — where Dickens used to eat — that darn Dickens keeps showing up at our mealtimes — we headed up to the 17th century Royal Observatory, where Will and I straddled the Meridian, one leg in each hemisphere. We watched the ball drop above the hill observatory — as it has every day at 1 p.m. since the early 19th century so that seafarers could set their clocks for navigation.

We saw the development of the first time piece that made navigating longitude accurate and sailing much more safe. Carpenter and amateur clockmaker John Harrison took on the challenge in the 1700s and developed a series of four clocks — the first three large as a birdcage, the final one — and the successful design — a small and beautiful watch known as H4. It reminded me of Steve Jobs and the quest for the perfect design. Anyhow, I want an H4.

Rick then wanted us to go to the “Deer Park” at the far end of Greenwich Park, a former royal hunting ground on a high place overlooking London and the Thames and the skyscrapers of Canary Wharf. A kind of Pearl District with Major Banks. We teased Rick as we walked, and he asserted that the deer park — which he claimed Rick Steves had called a “must-do” — would sure beat those boring paintings I wanted to see in the Queen’s House back down by the Thames. We walked and walked and walked and walked. Rick was hoping for a Nara-style friendly deer petting zoo experience, I think, but it was more like a bunch of mangy fallow deer behind barbed wire. A little English girl was squealing — “I saw a mouse! Or a rat! I’m not sure which!” when we arrived so that made it a little more exciting. We laughed all the way back through the sunshine to the Queen’s House, which turned out to have some AMAZING paintings, even Rick agreed. The 17th century house had been built for the wives of the Stuarts, and there were some iconic portraits of the Tudors and the Stuarts, as well as a famous Spanish Armada painting and many many others. The house itself, now a popular wedding venue, is famous for being the first perfect home designed by Inigo Jones in the Palladian Italian style.

We cruised through the Maritime Museum, which was designed for an age group we didn’t understand — toddlers? pensioners? both? — so we took the light rail and Tube back home to recuperate for dinner. A stroll down King’s Road to Rabbit, which had the cool woodsy vibe of Ned Ludd without the amazing food. The smoked trout with clotted cream was delicious, as was the mushroom ravioli, but all the “small bites” left Will hungry for a bagel with lox and creme brulé back at the hotel.

We rode home on our first London bus. We had the familiar Tube-vs-Taxi “discussion,” decided to walk, and then a bus pulled up alongside us — it was just like the Grateful Dead song — a bus came by and I got on, that’s where it all began — and we leaped on. It would have delivered us to our door had we not gotten off a stop too soon in an overabundance of caution. Better than a taxi. Better than the Tube. Figured it out two days before we leave. Sigh.