When I returned to the Porter's Lodge to inquire about my packet, he replied, "Oh! But you've just missed her! She was just here. I wonder why she didn't leave it at your room. Ah well, maybe if you pop 'round again in a while you'll catch her." I contemplated this for a while. In a land of cell phones and texts I don't often need to rely on luck and a whim of hope to speak to somebody. The porter did not seem too worried about it, though, so I decided that I wasn't, either. But still, hoping to be at the same place as someone else by just happening to chose those moments to walk by? I never appreciated cell phones this much.
This isn't to say that Brits don't use cell phones and all just wander around with the vague idea of meeting up with each other. I just didn't have one.
 So instead I set out again, this time for postcards. I bought 10 in all, at the time not realizing that international postcard stamps cost three times more that the cards themselves. Oh bother. At least they have cool British designs on them like royal guards and big red buses. That is some consolation for their outrageous price. I still don't know if any of them made it home, actually. No one said anything about them. Now I am worrying.