We took the transatlantic repositioning cruise with Royal Caribbean, but this time we did it from east to west, flying in to Heathrow in London, three days early, so we could enjoy London as well as the cruise.
DAY ONE:
We arrived at noon in London, but remember that that's 6:00 am Texas time. One must find a way of dealing with jet lag when one is a jet setter, and our method was to check into the hotel, and take a four hour nap. That left us sleepy, so we could go to sleep properly by England time, yet not exhaust ourselves into a brain fried state. Once awake, we went down to the lobby to buy a Coke and a Dr Pepper - yes, they have those there, being at least semi-civilized. We returned to the room and our smuggled munchies and had a quiet dinner of almonds and soft drinks and crackers. Why didn't we go have a proper English meal downstairs? Because, dear friends, we hadn't taken the time to shower yet, and besides, the exchange rate is such that a six dollar meal in the USA is the equivalent of a ten dollar meal in England - not that I was going to worry about the exchange rate, since I intended to have a good time worthy of the expense of flying all the way to London.
So then we went to bed at the proper time - not sundown, because in England in the winter, the sun sets at about 4:00, or 1600 as they express it. We slept about ten hours, and in the morning we were all set for British time.
DAY TWO:
We skipped breakfast for some reason, mostly because we weren't really hungry, and we walked to The Plough after getting some advice on how to use public transport in London. The Plough is both a pub and a bus stop. It cost £2 (pounds sterling) for each of us to ride the bus to the nearest tube station, where we invested in two one-day passes for public transportation, which let us wave a little ticket around or feed it into a turnstile thingy whenever we wanted to ride a train or a bus (thus saving the £2 for the return trip on the bus). It took us a little figuring at first, but then it became sort of clear. So from the Plough, we took the 222 to Hounslough West, where we took the train to Piccadilly Circus - which isn't really a circus, with clowns and stuff, but kind of a neighborhood or shopping district. After climbing out of the tube station to the busy sidewalk above, we discovered that the GPS didn't work among the tall buildings in London, because it couldn't see the sky. Come to think of it, neither could we. We had meant to mark a waypoint on the GPS so we could find our way back, but we had to settle for breadcrumbs.
So we wandered down the street, dropping our bread crumbs, until we saw a promising looking alley, which contained a sandwich shop callled "Piggy's." It's a little different in London; you order, you eat, and then you pay, even in a sandwich shop. If you tip at all - and Brits are notoriously bad tippers - you tip no more than 10%, no matter how good the service. The sandwiches were delicious, but the salt and vinegar chips weren't really strong enough to suit me. In Texas, they almost blow your nose for you, but I guess in England they're more subtle.
It was fortuitously the first day of Christmas shopping in London. Imagine that: we didn't bump into Ebenezer Scrooge or any crippled orphans, but where else would you want to be when doing your Christmas shopping? Lights were strung over the streets, and the sidewalks were crowded to near-capacity. We weren't sure which side of the sidewalk was appropriate, because after all, they drive on the wrong side of the road in England, but then in America there is no set side of the sidewalk for directions of walking, either. It turned out that the direction of travel is entirely random. In fact, you can be walking with the crowd on the right side, and then after crossing the street, they will have reversed it so you have to walk on the left! If you don't think that makes for a lot of bumping and excuse-me-ing, think again.
We found ourselves shopping at Selfridge's, which apparently is mentioned in some Christmas movie or another, and which may have been GA's objective in the first place. In any case, they have a men's room on the second floor, and a women's room on the fourth, so it's a good thing we went shopping, if you know what I mean. We bought a nice little roll of orange candies for me, mostly because it was made with chiles, and I always love a good chile candy.
Getting back on the train was a little more interesting than coming downtown, because it was kind of like rush hour for people getting off work, and because it was, after all, the first day of the shopping season. So we got crammed into the train, and stood up until we got back to Hounslough West station, and then found a bus stop to catch good old 222.
The first 222 that came by was full. They let off a half dozen people, but didn't even open the doors for anybody to get on, which I guess made sense, as there really wasn't even standing room. No problem, we'll just wait for the next bus.
It was almost full, too, but they let on a few and then closed the doors before we could get on. OK... GA suggested that we needed to be a bit more aggressive about staying close to the front for boarding.
The third bus didn't even open its doors.
It started raining, and getting colder. We were sharing the stop with about two dozen folks, mostly Indians and Muslim women wearing burkhas.
The fourth bus was full, too. Now, the other routes all had room, and people were getting on them with no problem, but 222 seemed to be greatly under served. Then too, all the other routes had those cool British double deckers, with double capacity. Ours was your standard government issue one story buses.
Now, there is a lane reserved briefly for the bus stop as you drive by one. Only buses are allowed in it. But after the fourth bus left, here came a taxi who was in a hurry, and so he veered into the bus lane to get around the traffic which was stopped for about a block, waiting to get through the intersection. He wasn't there legally, so he had to make it fast, of course, so he wouldn't get caught - and as he flew by our little bus stop he hit the puddle which had formed as a result of the nice, new rain, thereby splashing most of us waiting for yet another 222 to come by. We almost saw it in slow motion, all of us gasping in unison, all of us knowing our world was about to get a lot colder and wetter, all of us knowing it was too late to get out of the way, because we were packed like little British sardines trying to stay dry under the shelter.
Nobody complained except us, so I guess they're used to it by now. In Texas, that taxi driver might have his taxi shoved up his street, if you get my drift.
The fifth bus had room, sort of, so GA and I were hanging onto the straps with one hand and our shopping bags with the other. The bus made a sudden halt (probably to avoid a taxi), and all of us standing were thrown forward into each other, almost into laps had it not been for the straps not breaking. I made the mistake of using humor to make things more comfortable, as I would have in Texas. "Well, I guess we're all good friends now!" No response at all. Brits are so stuffy, sometimes.
We made it back to the Plough, and then to the hotel, where we had "proper" fish and chips, which means that it wasn't wrapped in a newspaper, but served on an actual plate. This was explained to us by a British couple there, who suggested Boddingtons, a particular beer which was on tap, and which I bought, just in case maybe I might actually like it for a change - but I didn't, though I will admit it came closer to being drinkable than most American beers. So I had wine, and gave the beer to GA.
DAY THREE: Today, the plan was to go visit Kew Gardens. I particularly wanted to do that, since I so enjoy the Mary Hopkin song about it, but I also happen to like plants and gardens, especially British gardens. So we made the short hike back to the Plough, caught the 222, much less crowded this time, and this time made a different connection on the tube, and then another bus to Kew Gardens. That's pretty much the key to getting around in London - get that pass, and take a bus to the train, and then take the train to the next bus, which takes you where you want to be.
We bought our tickets in the rain, but we had our umbrellas, and the plan was to go straight for one of the snack shops, but immediately after we bought our tickets, a storm blew in, which means that the rain falls sideways and comes at you like wet little bullets. So we got to the nearest shelter, and spent the time letting GA decide what she was going to buy for Christmas presents before we went home. After a while the rain was only coming down at a sharp angle, rather than straight sideways, which we figured was good enough, so we began our little tour. It's a beautiful place, with one lane roads taking the visitor from one section to the next, so we aimed generally toward the White Peaks Café, where we enjoyed delicious ham sandwiches with butter and English mustard, washed down with fermented lemonade. I told GA that as soon as were finished with lunch, the rain would stop, the sun would come out, and we would have a perfect day. And since the day had started out wet and miserable, the crowds would be thin, too. As it happens, I was right. Actually, God had done that for us many times, such as at the panda exhibit at the Atlanta Zoo, and I have gotten used to the pattern. God is, after all, in charge of the weather, not Harry Potter, even in London.
Knowing we were going to Kew Gardens, we had already gotten the coordinates for a virtual cache in Kew Gardens, conveniently loaded into the GPS. This was going to be our next objective, and it would be our first cache in Europe, and for the time being the furthest from our home. All we had to do is either take a photo of ourselves with our GPS, or else answer two questions posted on the geocaching website.
We did both, just to make sure:
Photo by GA
When I turned on our new camera, which is a video camera that also takes still shots, I got a message about a low battery. I kind of panicked, and I took less video than I had planned, because I wanted to get at least the best stuff in the garden. Turns out later that it's a false alarm, and may be just part of the booting up process, because there was actually plenty of juice left in the battery. Later, I discovered that that false warning is an even greater annoyance than I at first understood, mainly because if you press the record button before that warning goes away, it doesn't count - which means you think you're recording some great, Oscar-winning video of a place you'll never see again, but you're actually about to get a two second clip of your scene after you think you've stopped the camera, just before you close the thing and then it stops - usually as you're saying something like "that's going to look great when we get home," as you swing down to a lovely view of the sidewalk and your shoes.
We saw some wonderful plants at Kew Gardens, including the Sago Palm specimens, which can be purchased at our local fruit stand for $15, Texan, though you have to plant it yourself.
Yes, I also took actual photographs, which did, in fact, turn out:
GA standing among the lovely flowers of Kew Gardens. Photo by Wm
Wm standing by a picturesque brick wall in Kew Gardens. Photo by GA.
harB admiring the lovely statuary in Kew Gardens. Photo by Wm.
Next: France, including Paris and the American Cemetery above Omaha Beach.
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