6:58am 2.76 miles 29:16 10:36 pace 75 degrees
Up at 5:30 this morning. Time to think while waiting for the sun to rise and then time to think while running. It’s been over a month since I returned from (so far) the trip of my lifetime – for many reasons. Since returning to Houston, I’ve hardly stopped to breathe. Until now. I don’t want to let this trip pass without taking the time to chronicle. My Blog is my diary.
Dear Diary,
My London trip changed my life. You know that. I’ll never forget parts of it but I’m afraid I might forget others. Please save this for me. Thanks, M
Nonstop from Houston to Heathrow on British Airways: Movies and television all the way. Meal service. Aisle seat. You bet!
I bought a roundtrip Heathrow Express ticket once I arrived at Heathrow. I’d do it again. What I’d do differently is NOT take a taxi from the train station to my hotel. I now know it’s not necessary but that day I was overcome by the enormity of the train station. I’d just arrived in Europe for the first time and all I wanted to do was get to my hotel.
Hyde Park: My stepping off point. I stayed at the Cumberland Hotel at Marble Arch. It was a great place to catch the Underground or a bus. Twice, I took long walks through the park. There are great walkways and bike paths. That first afternoon I had a strong desire to be outside and explore but felt disoriented. Give me a park and I’m usually ok. I walked to the Serpentine Café, bought a muffin and a cup of coffee and sat shivering in the cold and damp London weather. Smiling.
There was a Prêt a Manger on the corner, just steps from my hotel. The first full day I was in London, I decided that shop would be my way of surviving monetarily while I was on vacation. It worked pretty well for me. I had yogurt and fruit for breakfast, enjoyed tea and a light “something” at whatever museum I hit in the afternoon, and ate a reasonable dinner.
I purchased an Oyster Card for the week. It didn’t take long for me to figure out the Underground system. A couple of times I got off at a station in error and when I did, I just jumped back on a different train or took time to study the map. My biggest goof was thinking I’d take pictures of an “English Garden” at Covent Garden. Imagine London’s version of Bourbon Street in New Orleans. The worst part of my getting off at that stop wasn’t that there wasn’t a garden but that the tube exits consisted of four cramped elevators that took FOR.EV.ER to get to street level.
I fell in love with all the variety at the tube stations. Each had its own personality. The unifying factor was that all had gum stuck to advertising posters. Movie stars’ nostrils in each station sprouted chewed juicy fruit. When I saw one without chewing gum, it looked somehow naked.
The first time I ventured out was to the Victoria and Albert Museum. Oh -the furniture, the fashion. And my first introduction to afternoon tea. It became something I indulged in daily and I continue to do so now.
The Saturday I was there, I made the most of a sunny day. I walked around St. James Cathedral and then over the Millennium Bridge to Tate Modern. Before entering the museum, I veered left and walked through the Borough Market where I found a delicious curry vegetarian wrap and spent some time visiting with the woman who ran the stall, cooking such delicious food. I walked back to the museum and took time to wander through the collection.
May 29 was a bank holiday. I went to Buckingham Palace and waited for the changing of the guard that never happened. Luckily there was also a 10K race that day and I stood at the finish line. I was able to see Mo Farah win the race. I also watched some crazy guy at the start take off in a full suit of armor. He wasn’t 1 mile in when Mr. Farah finished.
One day I stumbled upon a rehearsal of the London Symphony at Trafalgar Square. I sat outside and soaked up the sunshine and the tunes. I didn’t feed the pigeons.
My first stop at the National Gallery was unplanned and unprepared. I stopped in one afternoon after what felt like hours of walking…kind of sort of lost. I wandered around for about 30 minutes and decided I had to come back with plans to spend more time. I’m so glad I did. My second trip gave me the opportunity to luxuriate in the expanse of centuries of visual splendor. A bonus was the Michael Landy exhibit “Saints Alive”. It was a simultaneously fascinating and disturbing take on religious legends. At the National Gallery, I found Rembrandt, Vermeer, and Caravaggio. I sought out Seurat and Pissarro. I wandered into a small room, a cavern of darkness, and came face to face with a da Vinci. There were no signs to point me to it. Nobody nudged me toward this thing of beauty. It was purely by accident that I found it. Stunning. And enough of a surprise to shock me out of my blissful ignorance and force me into picking up a guide at the entrance to the National Portrait Gallery, my next stop.
I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. I have a fascination with many things Tudor. King Henry VIII, his wives, his court, etc. Especially after spending a week in London, I was anxious to put faces to my imagination. There is so much history on the walls of the National Portrait Gallery. Not only is royalty a big part of it, icons of literature, science, mathematics, exploration, and popular culture are all personified. Another bonus exhibit: George Catlin’s American Indian Portraits was showing. I’ve heard about them for so many years. I’ve seen pictures of them in books. Seeing them in person was a thrill. The depth and colors were amazing.
Tours: I took a tour arranged with the help of the hotel concierge. I went to Bath and to Stonehenge. Bath is a lovely little town and I wish I’d seen more of it than the tourism portion. I can now say I’ve seen flying buttresses. The roman baths were quasi-interesting. Being out of the city of London was nice for a day. I also wish I’d taken a smaller tour (like a mini-bus) instead of a big ol’ tour bus. Being a single, I was stuck in the middle back seat and it wasn’t easy to see out of the windows. Next time I’ll know better. I ate at Jamie Oliver’s Italian restaurant but before I could eat, an elderly woman fell and likely fractured her arm. I did a little first aid there in the restaurant. She and her husband were very sweet. I found out how emergency medicine works (in that city anyway). The restaurant called her a taxi and they fixed the old guy a panini while they waited. Everybody seemed happy. Go figure. Oh, my meal? Wild rabbit, fresh pasta and lemon mascarpone. And a glass of red wine. And then I was happy.
From Bath it was back on the bus and on to Stonehenge. Worth the trip. Absolutely. There were hundreds of people there and it was the quietest place I’ve ever seen. To say mystery is to understate dramatically. Go. Well, go if you’re into quiet and meditation and wonder. Otherwise, probably skip it.
The Tower of London: I arrived early and was one of the first people in line for an admission ticket. This was one of the only places I had to pay for a restroom (also Victoria Coach Station). It pays to keep a few coins on hand. I was only planning to stay a couple of hours at the Tower. I was there for six. So much of the history I’ve loved to read and study is tangled up in the Tower. The crowds grew as the day wore on. It was raining that day. The Beefeater Tours don’t let you hold up umbrellas on their tours. Yeah, pretty wet by the end of the day.
Theatre: I bought my tickets online at seetickets.com. Worked like a charm. My seat for “Book of Mormon” at the Prince of Wales Theatre was in the upper balcony and was perfectly fine. The show was hilarious and filthy. I laughed until I cried. The theatre was beautiful. For “Once” at the Phoenix Theatre, I sat in the sixth row. I’d been given a tip to go onstage prior to the show and purchase a drink. I’m so glad I did. The musicians were fantastic. The show was fantastic. It was…fantastic. The main difference I found between London theatre and New York theatre was that I didn’t have to arrive nearly as early in London as New York. Taking the Underground made arriving so much easier than dealing with New York traffic.
And one more thing. My last night I met new friends by way of old friends. We had a wonderful dinner then went back to their flat for champagne. I was made to feel welcome. It was so very lovely. It was the perfect ending to a perfect week.
Did I forget something? Maybe. It’s been over a month since I returned from this trip of a lifetime. I set out to explore on my own. I’m writing this more for me than for you. It seems a lifetime of events have happened since I returned and I didn’t want to forget THAT while I deal with THIS. I hope this makes sense. I owe it to myself to remember how much I enjoyed this trip and that I shouldn’t wait decades to take another. The question is, to where?
©Michelle Scofield, July 13, 2013 All Rights Reserved
