September 15th—London

Me in front of the Franklin memorial in Waterloo Place. The chip to the right of the plaque is from shrapnel from a WWII German bomb

Okay, so there are the only two living people who have written books on James Fitzjames sitting in the pub where Franklin spent his last night before he sailed, trying to work out which window Jane watched from, and no one else in the pub seemed to appreciate how cool that was. Sometimes I despair for my species.

If this means nothing to you, rush to Amazon and buy a copy of North with Franklin by me or James Fitzjames by the other guy (William Battersby), and accept my sympathy.
So this was a hardcore Franklin day. Morning in the Greenwich college where one of only two of Franklin's men brought back is buried (for the purists, it's probably Goodsir not le Vesconte), and the National Maritime Museum where Franklin relics (and much other cool stuff) is on display.
Afternoon, discussing theories and Franklin trivia with W.B.