London, a city I love.

For about fifteen years my husband and I made an annual trip to London. Mostly to see theater. During that first trip, I fell in love with the old theaters, the magic the Brits can create, and the knowledge that this was the best live theater in the world. Great acting, great directing, great everything. I thrilled every time our jet landed -- after an eleven hour trip, and we could look out the window and see the Concord landing, too. In later years, the flights from LA seemed to arrive later and the Concord was discontinued. But still...

But after 9-11, dips in the world economy, and a weakening dollar against the British pound, it became harder to justify these trips. My favorite British playwright Alan Ayckbourn had grown fed up with the British reviewers and gone to Scarborough. The musicals seemed to be based on B-Movies from the US, and what was left seemed thin in comparison to previous years.

But I still long to wake up as our flight passes over Ireland, the smell of breakfast fills the jet, and I know our long journey to England is just beginning.

I miss visiting the Museum of London, The Imperial War Museum, and too many others to name here.

Now we stay in the US. New York has loads of wonderful plays and musicals. Many of these have a British star at their helm. And Upstate New York has brilliant fall foliage. But I hope to make that flight again one day soon. And feel that magic again.