The Ivy

I told Uncle Tim that at least once I this trip I wanted to go somewhere FANCY. Someone told him about The Ivy. The problem is you have to make reservations weeks, sometimes months in advance. I didn't care I wanted to try to get in anyway. So we went. Uncle Tim was straggling so I went to the maitre d' to explain to him that a pushy semi-famous gentleman that I was with wanted to dine at the restaurant and I was trying to see what could be done before he came in and started to cause a raucous. As I finished my sentence the maitre d's eyes grew wide and Uncle Tim was behind me demanding to know what I said. Luckily they were already trying to figure something out for us so the maitre d' covered my butt and Uncle Tim and I head to the bar where Bobby and Kristin were waiting.

I took these pictures before I saw the menu that read that no cameras or cell phones were allowed. Oops. We ended up having a fantastic dinner and talked to some wonderful people. Bobby even was invited to Wales to go pheasant hunting and he exchanged numbers with a land/property developer that seemed to do more traveling than work. This was definitely a wowza. 

Here's the web site if you want to see a little more of what we experienced.

Link: http://www.the-ivy.co.uk/

I fake it well. She's thinking - I can't believe we are forcing our way in here.

There is nothing but love on this trip. Uncle Tim wasn't ready for this picture but I didn't dare take anymore because the other guests were giving us "looks". You know the kind that snobby who the hell are those people looks.