"Those do tend to be the best spots, the ones locals only know of," Easton nodded in agreement. Sure, anyone could go see the bridge, the Underground, could tour Buckingham Palace and what not, but none of that compared with the little treasures hidden throughout London. Bookstores were East's weakness, of course, little ones hidden on cobblestoned side streets that sold rare prints of nearly every genre. He could, and frequently did, lose himself inside one or two on a slow day of the week with time to kill and an eager mind. "It sounds as though you and your father are quite close," he added with a smile.
"I do, yes," he nodded with a laugh, amused by her reaction, though it was understandable. "I suppose it's an acquired taste. If I wasn't raised on it, I probably wouldn't choose to eat it, but I'm quite used to it now." It wasn't an everyday thing, but when he missed a taste of home it seemed to help. "It isn't the most attractive dish to dine on, no," he could agree with that. His parents had been the same way, only it was his mother that loved it and his father that couldn't stand the stuff. "That's because Cadburys are delicious. Perhaps they'd let you into England after all, if only for a bit," he teased.