After we greet the six South Africans who in retrospect must have spent three days in our basement washing clothes — lovely family actually — we take the Silver Line for the first time to Dulles Airport and board an Airbus 380: two stories of seamless plastic and metal with a crew count greater than the population of Wales.

We shudder through clouds over Heathrow and bang into the tube for South Kensington, where we check into the Rembrandt Hotel, exactly across Churchill Street from the front of the Victoria and Albert Museum. Local news stations say the weather is “unseasonably cold and wet for this time of year” with what must count as traditional British understatement: Temps in high 20s with slanting rain that turns umbrellas inside out. We pout with stiff upper lips and fritter our afternoon braving Shakespearean blasts to find UK sim cards for our phones, G&T for our sanity, and precious french sandwiches for our tummies.

Wednesday we dressed in four layers of clothing and stuffed our knapsack with umbrellas and extra layers and “technical” rain gear and ventured to the West End for a self-guided walking tour that began at Leicester Square: ground zero for filming Gene Kelly Dancin’ in the Rain, Mary Poppins under her umbrella and Charlie Chaplin mugging as the little tramp, among other bronzes commemorating famous scenes filmed here.

Gusts of wet wind propel us on rain-slick streets toward Covent Garden, where we dip into St. Paul’s Church — not Christopher Wren’s cathedral but Inigo Jones’s dedicated to actors. Plaques on the walls commemorate Peter O’Toole, Vivien Leigh and Diana Rigg, among others. We perambulate the beautiful small garden behind the church and then make our way to … so very British … the Apple Store, where we have to buy a portable charger because we left all of ours 3,662 miles behind us. We also have to find a USB-to-headphone cable so Cynthia. can stay awake all night listening to podcasts and tracking signals from our Miele washing machines. We get it from a street vendor who charges a reasonable premium of 10 pounds for this 50-cent item.

Basically defeated by the elements we duck into Hopper’s Shi-Lankan restaurant where we made reservations yesterday … and despite most tables are empty, we are shown to a bench wedged in front of the front window because “when you make a reservation through Google, you cannot choose your table, we are told, and all other seats have been reserved” obviously by people who know better than to use Google. We mention this quirk because it crops up later in our stay, so it’s clearly, “a thing”.

And we have a delicious meal, especially as we can look at the window in front of us at people in a wet cue for something or other. After dinner, we dodge raindrops to arrive at the Criterion Theater where Unfriend unfolds before us. A terrific, witty, well acted and produced comedy that lifts our spirits so much we ignore the wind, rain, wet, and cold return to our hotel.