The Victoria and Albert Museum is incredible. It is enormous, and every room is impressive. You could spend a week there and not see the entire museum. The Winston Churchill Museum was okay, but the highlight of that visit happened after I exited and I found a perfect English gentleman sitting outside, bowler cap and all. I wanted to pick him up and hug him.

Next stop was an old operating theater, where we watched an hour lecture and amputation demonstration. I loved it, but some of the other tourists were less excited about the graphic descriptions. There is a small museum associated with the operating theater, and I saw something miraculous: frankincense and myrrh! They are real things! I never knew what they were, but I held some of each in my hand and felt very connected to Jesus. Kinda.

The funny thing about the old medical museum was that it was awfully similar to a torture museum I once saw in Italy. The devices were practically identical in appearance and function, but with different names. Curious…

My favorite British food is Indian food. It is so good, and it is everywhere. I had Indian three or four times this week and it was all delicious. Traditional British food, on the other hand, is merely… eatable. It seems to come in pairs: fish & chips or bangers & mash. It’s all pub food, and frankly I would prefer the nuts at some of the pubs to the food.

The pubs are great though. I love the beer and the atmosphere. The names are also fun. There are three kinds of names: Ye Olde something; Animal body parts, like The Goat Leg or The Sheep Head; or names of random dudes, like The Clarence.

At the end of the work day, the sidewalks outside the pubs are packed with people enjoying a beer on their way home. And you know what else? You pay the price of your drink, nothing more. If the beer is three pounds, you pay three pounds. I love it. No bartenders with attitudes, just good beer and good company.

We have also enjoyed some good French food, but French people must be tiny. My meal of scallops with salad was actually one scallop cut into quarters with a single piece of green garnish. Looking around the table, everyone had about one full bite of food on their plates. When it is as flavorful and tasty as these were, of course, you savour the tiny morsels, but I’m just saying. I could have finished my meal in a bite if I wanted.

The last thing to mention is the tea. I have always been a tea drinker, but it is never such a process as it is here. Having tea in London is so much more than boiling water and adding a tea bag. Having tea here would be incomplete without sitting down with sandwiches and cookies. I think I prefer to keep my tea casual, but I could see how afternoon tea with snacks and friends could be an enjoyable activity periodically.

Love Never Dies is the sequel to my favorite musical, the Andrew Lloyd Webber masterpiece Phantom of the Opera. To my dismay (but not my surprise) it was a complete disaster.

Let’s start with the music. The best songs in the entire show are the ones from the original. The new music is modified carnival music, which makes sense because the play takes place on Coney Island. I only remember one of the new songs, which was the title track. In the play, this song is supposed to represent the Phantom’s magnum opus… the song that will bring Christine back to him. Instead the whole number is a joke. It was supposed to be the climax of the show, and I laughed the entire time.

The lyrics were as worthless as the music. Throughout the play, most of the characters just narrated the story in prose, but it was set to music. On the rare occasion that the lyrics did rhyme, it was so forced it was painful. Just imagine someone reading from a bad romance novel to the melody of carnival music, and save yourself the trouble of listening to the soundtrack.

How about the plot? For the sake of simplicity, let’s call the original play a love story: the characters’ actions are motivated by love. As the play goes on, the characters develop and we enjoy learning more about them. In the sequel, the same characters are suddenly motivated by money; Meg is a prostitute and Raoul is a broke alcoholic. Everyone is static and uninteresting. You don’t leave the theater with any sense of satisfaction, or with the feeling that your time and money were well spent.

The character of the Phantom was another disappointment. In the original, he is mysterious and suave in his tight tuxedo with slicked black hair. When we are introduced to him in a puff of smoke behind a mirror, he seems almost supernatural… truly like an angel of music. If that’s not enough, he lurks in the bowels of an opera house. Cool! Contrast that with the sequel. We are introduced to a lovesick Phantom wearing a black bathrobe who runs a carnival from a giant purple head-shaped room with the help of three henchmen straight out of Rocky Horror Picture Show. He is an emo carnie bum who got caught up in some baby daddy drama.

And I use the word “drama” loosely. How’s this for foreshadowing: early in the play we learn that Christine’s son is 10 years old. Soon after, we learn that the Phantom and Christine slept together 10 years ago. I heard the lady behind me say, “I bet the Phantom is the father.” She deserved a bigger sarcastic applause than the entire show.

Thank goodness that was not the only production we saw in London. Our theater experience was redeemed by the musical Oliver and the opera La Fille du Regiment.

I had seen Oliver once before, but it was a small local production. The music is catchy, and the plot is simple. I like that. The opening song was pretty amazing; over the course of “Food, Glorious Food,” about 50 kids emerge from various doors in the stage.

I loved the sets because they actually complemented the play. There weren’t bells and whistles added for spectacle; the elevators and trap doors all served a purpose. Contrast that, once again, with Love Never Dies, which was full of gimmicky costumes and sets.

We also saw La Fille Du Regiment at the Royal Opera. Turns out I actually enjoy going to the opera. Who knew? Earlier in the day, we had taken a backstage tour of the Royal Opera House, which definitely increased my appreciation for the production. We had the chance to see how the huge sets are moved and stored, and we watched a ballet rehearsal.

I am told that I was privileged to see Juan Diego Flórez and Natalie Dessay as the principles in our performance, and yes, they were fantastic. I loved everything about the evening: the sets, the music, the singing, the acting, the costumes. I used to make fun of my mom for being an opera fanatic, but she has successfully converted me.