Britain
“How are you doing?”, I asked the receptionist at “Macdonald Hotel”. Bemused at first, he eventually answered “I’m good”. Apparently, my American manners were just that, and this was London. I dragged my suitcase up the narrow and worn stairway, to get to my room, which was reasonably priced, in part because of this being the third of January. It was already time to go to bed. Day 2 Portobello Market, dealing mostly in antiquities,…