Most signs in London are very polite, so this was an anomaly. Nobody else was around on the day we found it (the umbrellas might offer a clue to the reason). The door -- we have no idea what it is really for -- is in one of the many alley-like streets in Southwark, the borough near London Bridge station.
We have quite a few things we don't want to forget, but that we have no pictures of, so this is a good place to throw in a couple. Very near this little alley is Vinopolis, City of Wine. We know England's not quite famous for its wine, but this huge visitor center/tasting room was really worth a visit. It's built in the railway vaults over the site of an ancient Roman Wine Store. There's a very good self-guided tour of every wine-growing region in the world, with tastings -- you get to pick five or six. There's even a Bombay Gin room, cocktail included. Bill ordered a dry martini -- and the bartender was pleased to make it. Most people were ordering frou-frou pink gin drinks, that were probably beneath his true talent.
We got in to this and a whole bunch of other attractions for a third of the price by showing our monthly train pass. They were running a spring special when we first got here and now a summer one. Such a deal! (Several things we really wanted to see -- the Tates and the National Gallery and the British Museum -- are free to the public.)
Here's another day's adventure -- totally unrelated, except that we have no pictures.
We went to Old Bailey and watched part of an on-going murder trial. Security was pretty tight -- we went there before the attempted car-bombings, so it might even be more stringent now. Bags, cameras, phones etc., were not allowed at all -- and there was no place to check bags (as there had been when we went to Parliament). Fortunately, we read those rules on the internet before we went.
It was very easy to see the action in the courtroom -- all of the barristers and the judge were wearing the requisite white wigs. (The defense attorney had stringy greasy looking hair showing under the back of hers -- maybe it's not worth it to shampoo/style when you have to mess it up with the wig.) We were quite close enough to watch the jurors' faces and to see and hear the defendant (and her interpreter) as she testified. The trial involved an Indian woman who was accused of an honor killing of her daughter-in-law. Her son/the husband was also on trial, but we only saw him under guard in the defendant's box, right underneath where we were sitting. The guards seemed to have the easiest, or most boring, job ever -- two of them sat there reading paperback novels the whole time we were there. The potential danger is probably worth something however.
Oddly, given the wigs and all, the trial was a lot less formal than we had expected. For example, the jury members were allowed to interrupt to ask questions during the testimony.
For the momemts we were there, we could understand how people get hooked on court-watching as a pastime. We kind of want to go back, but there are so many other things to do. (We haven't, so far, been able to find out what has happened in this trial -- it's just one of many many trials that are going on daily.)
But, in any case, now when we watch public TV or read Rumpole, we can say we know where it is!