After lunch, Brock and I walked to the big park in Hampstead Heath, of the same name, and it was just the most glorious day. The sun was shining, there was a slight breeze and the views from the top of the big hill were spectacular. It really made me feel like I was in England. We even met a gentleman-poet who asked us to give him any three words and he would rhyme all of them in a poem. If he failed, he promised to give us a pound. Well, of course the first word that popped into my mind was orange because everyone knows you can’t rhyme orange. When I told him this, he reminded me that he said he could rhyme OR use alliteration. I thought that was kind of cheating, but the guy spat out a cleaver poem and we were mildly impressed.