Laurie's light travel travel tips

..... ----------------------------------------------------Here I am at BFI, which I believe stands for British Film Institute . I'm on my second coke and rum with lime and am too knackered to look up the "I". The lighting is dim and low here in the bar, just as one would expect between suspenseful seminars on film. I've enjoyed two so far. The first was "Trust No One: Conspiracy and Paranoia in the Age of Fake News" , which was moderated by BBC presenter Samira Ahmed who introduced two journalists who gave their analyses of why one shouldn't trust anyone they meet in film. No that's not right. Shouldn't trust some people in film or some journalists? (I know they laughed about how journalists used to be the sign of who to trust in films but no more!) The movies in the first seminar did not include anything I have seen, I am embarrassed to say, but now very much want to see ("Coma" and especially "The Parallax View (19...

Here I am again at Terminal 5, and everyone around here thinks it's my home. It might as well be, as I am through here at least twice daily, rushing into the City of London . Today I forgot my student ID (so I could go into the Maughan Library at King's College and borrow a couple books I needed) so decided to think on my feet, or rather in my seat. "Excuse me, sir, but do you know London very well??" He, American accent, smiling: "It's been years since I was here." Me, smiling. "American?" He nodded. So I asked the chap next to me, "Where should I get off if I want to find a great bookstore that might have some classics?" "Piccadillly. W.H. Smith, across from the Meridian Hotel." I thanked him, and got off at Piccadilly (Circus), realizing I was about to disembark into an area that once held great romantic promise for me. A young man had scurried out of work and placed the backpack on my shoulders, wishing me adieu as I h...