The Italy laundry situation turned into the Monaco laundry situation which turned into our unfortunate realization that my husband’s favorite shirt was simply beyond any repair of that orange Sahara sand.   We decided to hang on to the colorful guy until after our Egypt jaunt and then let it die a suitable death in the desert that destroyed it…

Cue London and us quite literally wandering around aimlessly our first day in town.   We took the Tube and popped out at a station in time to see Big Ben chime it’s happy song.  We strolled past all the sites, stopping once as a motorcade of police escorted a single black Range Rover through town (it was totally a Prince in there, you can’t tell me otherwise…)  I grabbed a cup of tea to go as we passed through some lovely park on the way to Buckingham Palace (and my husband stole a sip proclaiming it some of the best tea he ever had…he still doesn’t get why this was…)

It was a quaint and peaceful London afternoon…and then as we turned a corner and I peered into the window display of a men’s shop, I remembered that the maker of the favorite shirt is a British company and we actually ordered it online from London…and by some quirk of fate, that window I was looking into happened to be Chuck T!  (or Charles Tyrwhitt if you want to be all formal like those Brits love so much…)

We laughingly stepped inside and went on a hunt for the threads…and as the sweet boy listened to our sob tale and found the shirt for us, he was happy to inform us they were also having a ridiculous sale if we bought 4 shirts so would I like to pick out a few more and they’d have them shipped in for us free?!   Don’t mind if I do, sir…

And the irony of the situation isn’t lost on me, I realize I’ve been in Rome and Paris and London and the only shopping to get done is for my husband, but we have much more of Europe left to even things out…and if that fails, I can always have “trouble” with the laundry in Asia, I hear Hong Kong does some great custom made items!