Arrived in London bright and early at about 6:30 a.m. local time. How come the European Union people get an express lineup through security, whereas we have to sit in the "Everyone Else" lineup. We're colonials, dammit! Why isn't there a special speedy line for us? Resolve to complain bitterly to anyone who cares (but can't find anyone who cares). Despite the very long lineups to pass through security, things moved pretty quickly.
Spent £14 on a Heathrow Express train ticket to take us to Paddington Station, where Monica's friend Neil was going to pick us up. Paddington was pretty neat - a very old-style train station with the arched roofs and lots of fancy ironwork.
And I love the look of the British cabs, although they are so horribly expensive that we will never actually get into one. The meter starts at £3.8, and is £3.4 per mile; each extra passenger is charged 40p, and you get to pay 10p more for each piece of luggage inside the cab, or any item over 2 feet long. Surcharges after 8 p.m., or on public holidays. If you call a cab in advance, the meter starts when he's dispatched (not when he picks you up), which is why everyone hails a cab. AND you're supposed to tip the driver. No thanks, I'll walk.
Driving in London - aaargh! No stinking way. The streets are narrow, and there are lots of traffic circles (anyone from Saskatchewan finds traffic circles inherently terrifying). Not to mention that they all drive on the wrong side of the road. When crossing a street, we're invariably looking the wrong way. Apparently, we are not the only ones with this problem. The streets have the words "Look Left" and "Look Right" on them. Must have had one too many tourists bouncing off the hoods of their vehicles.
Monica's friends Neil & Geraldine have a house in West Hampstead in London. It's one of those multi-levelled row houses - a small paved courtyard in the front, and a very nice garden in the back. They spent £200,000 on it when they bought it in 1996 - now its worth is approaching £1 million. How anyone can afford to live here, I have no idea. But they basically gutted a lot of the ground floor and kitchen and rebuilt it all. There are a lot of nice touches, like fireplaces in most of the rooms, although I don't believe they're all functional. They also have a cat named Millie that I made the mistake of petting. Oops! My eyes are burning! Not allergic to all cats, but some bother me more than others.
Without making any specific plans, Monica and I decided just to wander around London today. We bought a tube pass (she got one for a full month, and I bought a week-long pass), and we headed to Piccadilly Circus. The streets around there are a bit of a maze, and many of the buildings in that area have that old, monumental style that I like. After wandering aimlessly for a while, we stopped to buy some sandwiches from a kiosk (cause they were cheap!) and then Monica started trying to find Trafalgar Square. Usually, it's pretty singular and hard to miss. However, they're obviously doing some restoration work. Back and forth we went. Where's Lord Nelson? There are the pigeons, so we must be close, but where is Lord Nelson? Monica can't figure out why she can't find it. And then I finally notice the giant tall construction shape - looks almost like they're working on some kind of column... Yes, Lord Nelson and his famous column are completely obscured by scaffolding. I turned up my nose and commented that Napoleon's tomb was better than this. :-)
I had to be mollified by the fountains, and the pigeons, of course. Did you know that you're not supposed to feed the pigeons? We discovered this - guess when! - when we were feeding the pigeons, and a pigeon policeman came over to tell us that we can't feed the pigeons. Okayyy... I just want to know how bad you have to do at cop school to be demoted to pigeon policeman. Poor guy. Back and forth all day. A million tourists. "Don't feed the pigeons. Don't feed the pigeons. Can't any of you read the bloody signs? Don't feed the *$£*(%ing pigeons!!!"
After the illegal pigeon feeding frenzy, we decided to take refuge in the National Art Gallery. Most museums in London are free, although you have to pay to see some of the visiting exhibits. Lots of old, classical style paintings. Monica's favourite was a life size picture of a horse - "Whistlejacket", painted by Stubbs. No background, just a horse - apparently, the picture was commissioned by the owner. Guess he really liked that horse. Saw two Van Gogh's - first time I've ever seen any of the original paintings.
Monica was also really likes the Portrait Gallery, so we headed over there next. Lots of paintings of royalty and "important people", as well as some busts. I quite liked the more disreputable looking people. One particularly interesting portrait was of the three Brontë sisters - their brother, Bramwell, was originally included in the family portrait, but he painted over himself. You can still see the outlines of where he was in the painting.
By now, though, the quiet, sometimes dimly lit surroundings, combined with our lack of sleep on the flight over, was making us both verrry sleepy. Had to stagger outside where the cool air revived us for a while.
Then we decided to walk to Buckingham Palace. You can't tour it while the Queen's at home, so we're out of luck. Apparently, it's only open when all the royals go on vacation in the summer. (Probably would have been way overpriced anyway.) I thought that it might have been Kensington Palace just across the street, but my trusty travel guide says that it is St. James's Palace. Who lived there? St. James? I don't think so...
A little tired from all the walking by that time, Monica and I went and sat down in some lawn chairs in St. James's Park. Some city employee wanders over to collect money from us - apparently, you have to pay £1.5 to sit in the chairs for 2 hours (or £2 for 4 hours). Like the pigeon policeman, his is a thankless job. Walk over to people, tell them they have to pay, and watch them walk away. Walk over to other people on the other side of the park, tell them they have to pay, etc. Repeat forever. Anyway, we were tired and wanted to sit there, so we paid. Although I did note that I never had to pay to sit down in parks in Paris. (Yes, I'm keeping a running tally.)
St. James's Park is very beautiful. Lovely flowers, which are already blooming, and many birds on a small lake. Swans, ducks, geese, coots (which are the most energetic, funny-looking birds), and all kinds of songbirds.
We got back on the tube and went to "Waitrose", a grocery store. Funny name. Wait, Rose - we're out of food; go get some groceries. Wait, Rose - don't forget to bring money. Wait, Rose - where are you going? The cashier asked how long we'd been in London - when we answered, "about 7 hours", she was full of friendly advice about do's and don'ts in London. After stocking up on groceries, we took the tube back to West Hampstead, but it felt like a very very long walk from the tube stop to the house while carrying heavy bags of groceries. However, now we have food for breakfast & lunch! Yes, I bought some Coke. But, blimey - Waitrose has got no Coke with limey! Wait, Rose - why'd you shop there??? Bloody hell. :-)
Neil cooked us supper, and we visited for a while, but that really woozy I'm-getting-really-tired-now feeling was returning. Eventually headed off to bed at about 10 p.m. local time. For those of you who know me, that's EARLY.
Spent £14 on a Heathrow Express train ticket to take us to Paddington Station, where Monica's friend Neil was going to pick us up. Paddington was pretty neat - a very old-style train station with the arched roofs and lots of fancy ironwork.
And I love the look of the British cabs, although they are so horribly expensive that we will never actually get into one. The meter starts at £3.8, and is £3.4 per mile; each extra passenger is charged 40p, and you get to pay 10p more for each piece of luggage inside the cab, or any item over 2 feet long. Surcharges after 8 p.m., or on public holidays. If you call a cab in advance, the meter starts when he's dispatched (not when he picks you up), which is why everyone hails a cab. AND you're supposed to tip the driver. No thanks, I'll walk.
Driving in London - aaargh! No stinking way. The streets are narrow, and there are lots of traffic circles (anyone from Saskatchewan finds traffic circles inherently terrifying). Not to mention that they all drive on the wrong side of the road. When crossing a street, we're invariably looking the wrong way. Apparently, we are not the only ones with this problem. The streets have the words "Look Left" and "Look Right" on them. Must have had one too many tourists bouncing off the hoods of their vehicles.
Monica's friends Neil & Geraldine have a house in West Hampstead in London. It's one of those multi-levelled row houses - a small paved courtyard in the front, and a very nice garden in the back. They spent £200,000 on it when they bought it in 1996 - now its worth is approaching £1 million. How anyone can afford to live here, I have no idea. But they basically gutted a lot of the ground floor and kitchen and rebuilt it all. There are a lot of nice touches, like fireplaces in most of the rooms, although I don't believe they're all functional. They also have a cat named Millie that I made the mistake of petting. Oops! My eyes are burning! Not allergic to all cats, but some bother me more than others.
Without making any specific plans, Monica and I decided just to wander around London today. We bought a tube pass (she got one for a full month, and I bought a week-long pass), and we headed to Piccadilly Circus. The streets around there are a bit of a maze, and many of the buildings in that area have that old, monumental style that I like. After wandering aimlessly for a while, we stopped to buy some sandwiches from a kiosk (cause they were cheap!) and then Monica started trying to find Trafalgar Square. Usually, it's pretty singular and hard to miss. However, they're obviously doing some restoration work. Back and forth we went. Where's Lord Nelson? There are the pigeons, so we must be close, but where is Lord Nelson? Monica can't figure out why she can't find it. And then I finally notice the giant tall construction shape - looks almost like they're working on some kind of column... Yes, Lord Nelson and his famous column are completely obscured by scaffolding. I turned up my nose and commented that Napoleon's tomb was better than this. :-)
I had to be mollified by the fountains, and the pigeons, of course. Did you know that you're not supposed to feed the pigeons? We discovered this - guess when! - when we were feeding the pigeons, and a pigeon policeman came over to tell us that we can't feed the pigeons. Okayyy... I just want to know how bad you have to do at cop school to be demoted to pigeon policeman. Poor guy. Back and forth all day. A million tourists. "Don't feed the pigeons. Don't feed the pigeons. Can't any of you read the bloody signs? Don't feed the *$£*(%ing pigeons!!!"
After the illegal pigeon feeding frenzy, we decided to take refuge in the National Art Gallery. Most museums in London are free, although you have to pay to see some of the visiting exhibits. Lots of old, classical style paintings. Monica's favourite was a life size picture of a horse - "Whistlejacket", painted by Stubbs. No background, just a horse - apparently, the picture was commissioned by the owner. Guess he really liked that horse. Saw two Van Gogh's - first time I've ever seen any of the original paintings.
Monica was also really likes the Portrait Gallery, so we headed over there next. Lots of paintings of royalty and "important people", as well as some busts. I quite liked the more disreputable looking people. One particularly interesting portrait was of the three Brontë sisters - their brother, Bramwell, was originally included in the family portrait, but he painted over himself. You can still see the outlines of where he was in the painting.
By now, though, the quiet, sometimes dimly lit surroundings, combined with our lack of sleep on the flight over, was making us both verrry sleepy. Had to stagger outside where the cool air revived us for a while.
Then we decided to walk to Buckingham Palace. You can't tour it while the Queen's at home, so we're out of luck. Apparently, it's only open when all the royals go on vacation in the summer. (Probably would have been way overpriced anyway.) I thought that it might have been Kensington Palace just across the street, but my trusty travel guide says that it is St. James's Palace. Who lived there? St. James? I don't think so...
A little tired from all the walking by that time, Monica and I went and sat down in some lawn chairs in St. James's Park. Some city employee wanders over to collect money from us - apparently, you have to pay £1.5 to sit in the chairs for 2 hours (or £2 for 4 hours). Like the pigeon policeman, his is a thankless job. Walk over to people, tell them they have to pay, and watch them walk away. Walk over to other people on the other side of the park, tell them they have to pay, etc. Repeat forever. Anyway, we were tired and wanted to sit there, so we paid. Although I did note that I never had to pay to sit down in parks in Paris. (Yes, I'm keeping a running tally.)
St. James's Park is very beautiful. Lovely flowers, which are already blooming, and many birds on a small lake. Swans, ducks, geese, coots (which are the most energetic, funny-looking birds), and all kinds of songbirds.
We got back on the tube and went to "Waitrose", a grocery store. Funny name. Wait, Rose - we're out of food; go get some groceries. Wait, Rose - don't forget to bring money. Wait, Rose - where are you going? The cashier asked how long we'd been in London - when we answered, "about 7 hours", she was full of friendly advice about do's and don'ts in London. After stocking up on groceries, we took the tube back to West Hampstead, but it felt like a very very long walk from the tube stop to the house while carrying heavy bags of groceries. However, now we have food for breakfast & lunch! Yes, I bought some Coke. But, blimey - Waitrose has got no Coke with limey! Wait, Rose - why'd you shop there??? Bloody hell. :-)
Neil cooked us supper, and we visited for a while, but that really woozy I'm-getting-really-tired-now feeling was returning. Eventually headed off to bed at about 10 p.m. local time. For those of you who know me, that's EARLY.
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