Last summer after I ran away from home, I traveled around the UK for six weeks. On my last night there, before heading to South Korea, I finally visited 221b Baker Street, one of my lifetime ambitions. It was late and I had spent the day running around London trying to get the last of things on my checklist. I remembered passing the pub on the coach trip into town so I grabbed my handy bus timetable and soon found myself in front of the one of the most famous addresses in literary history, if not the world!. Imagine my surprise when a strange man offered to take my picture in front of the building and then offered to buy me a pint at the Sherlock Holmes Pub next door.
He claimed to be the night caretaker at a local mental institution (I swear this is true) and wanted to work on his technique for picking up women. I figured it was a public space with lots of witnesses and I wasn't foolish enough to follow him anywhere and I helped him introduce himself to a bevy of young ladies at the bar (My god - where do I find these people?) Anyway he was charming, paid for the beer and showed me where to catch the fastest bus back to the hostel where I was staying. And that is my silly Sherlock Holmes London adventure!Happy birthday Mr. Holmes - we are in good company!








