Elementary, my dear Watson

Fun fact:  "Elementary, my dear Watson" is one of those phrases that's attributed to a person or character that they never actually said.  So too is the imagery of Holmes gallivanting about London clad in his deerstalker hat and tweed greatcoat wielding a giant meerschaum pipe.  And yet these are so pervasive in the mythology that they are universally accepted icons (though not so much by the more snooty of the Holmes cognoscenti).

While hopefully not snooty, Jen and I are massive Holmes fans, and a visit to London was not possible without a pilgrimage to 221B Baker Street.

The Baker Street Station is also the first Underground station.  I absolutely love that so many of the tube stations have maintained some of their original appearance.  In the US we tend to pave over our history instead of working alongside it

Outside of the station on Marylebone Street is a statue honoring the Great Detective.

A block or two walk down Baker Street brought us to 221B.  The outside of the Holmes museum was a bit kitschy, with a few dusty bits of Victoriana and a lot of touristy clutter laid out in the windows.  Hmm.  Is it possible that the most famous address in the world has been left to the care of incompetent amateurs?  Maybe it was time for a letdown on what had thus far been a trip that had exceeded every expectation.

After joining the queue outside we were informed by the doorman (dressed a bit dubiously as a bobby, but extremely pleasant and gracious) that tickets were bought in advance in the gift shop.   So I was dispatched posthaste to acquire some while Jen kept our place in line.  Once inside, my skepticism about the quality of the pending experience quickly evaporated.   The shop was easily the most charming of its kind I'd seen so far on the trip.  The souvenirs varied from inexpensive plastic gewgaws to antique silver and brass, all laid out on period furniture, with period rugs and carpets underfoot, serviced by staff in period costumes.  Fantastic.  The tickets were actually brochures giving some history of the place, facts, character introductions, and illustrations.  Nice little souvenirs in their own right.

Heartened by this (Jen knew nothing of my inner misgivings at the time and remained unabashedly excited), we started the tour.

The study.  The detail is astonishing.  Pictures really don't convey enough.

Jen sitting in Watson's chair, and I in Holmes'.  She is my Watson in most things, keeping me grounded and tolerating my ramblings with near-infinite patience.  My very best friend in all the world.

You can make out Holmes' tribute to the Queen on the wall, framed and behind glass.

It is really as awesome as it looks.  Again, my incredibly poor photography skills don't remotely do the place justice.  If you're a fan and are ever in the area, pay the place a visit.