And I would Walk 500 Miles, and I…

Posted on December 27, 2008

Or maybe jut 6 or so.

I set out this morning after staying up a little late and sleeping in like the vacation bum I’m happily becoming to see the Queen. It was a bit overcast with a cold wind that cuts through you, but I’d bundled up pretty well. But first, breakfast and a trip to the store for a different power converter. I discovered all my electrical stuff was compliant with European voltage so all I really had needed to bring were a couple of adapters. The hotel provided one but I needed another so I hit a little Boots pharmacy and they had just what I needed. Then, McDonald’s for a quick bite and off I went.

I don’t know what I was expecting with the Palace, but what I found was a pretty walk through St. James Park with people feeding squirrels from their hands, and water fowl flying all around. I can imagine this place in the spring time and what a pleasure it must be. There was an obvious lushness to it, even in winter. The Palace itself was less impressive from the outside than most of the other historical buildings around it, though there was something charming about it. I imagine inside it’s spectacular, and I could see small bits of evidence around that said it was indeed functional as the house of the royalty.

The guards you expect were present and everything I was told they would be. Still as statues even in the cold wind and something like clockworks when they chose to move. People lined up outside the steel gates to watch them stand there. The flag was flying over Buckingham and I think read somewhere that it was a sign she was home. The men with the machine guns may also have been something of an indicator. I took a few photos, headed back to the park for a cappuccino from a little vendor and then made my merry way in to the streets to get lost again. This time, intentionally.

London is such a typical mix of old and new but with a dark history behind it. So much was lost in the great fire and in war that to see an old pub or church surrounded by the examples of brutalist architecture is moving. These are places that have survived. And many of them are older than our entire country. Some of them were old when were first declared our independence from this place and there’s something remarkable about all of that. I made my way up quiet alleys away from the throngs of tourists and professional shoppers and just walked. Narrow cobblestone alleys met modern asphault and few buildings seemed to stand alone, unconnected from neighbors. I wondered about this and whether it had something to do with space or strength of design, but in most areas in the inner city, homes are all one long stream of buildings. I’ve seen that in other large cities as well, so perhaps it’s not so strange. It probably started on this continent and made it’s way to America,

I wound my way back out of an alley and turned to face a beautiful old church that turned out to be Westminster Abbey. I hadn’t gone looking for landmark sites, they’re just everywhere. I decided to come back this direction after dark and see what it looked like then as well. Back to the hotel to warm up and then off again, this time for a bit longer jaunt.

I headed right through the Horse Guard toward Westminster Bridge, The Clock Tower (affectionately referred to as Big Ben, after its builder, but officially The Clock Tower), the House of Parliament and the London Eye. Venders sold roasted peanuts, sausages and other wares all along the streets and everywhere, people moved in those masses again, though better than in the shopping districts. From there I walked down the bank of the Thames, along Thames Path past the Eye (beautiful at night) and on all the way down to the Tower Bridge. It ws a bit sketchy at times, with dark alleys, unlit paths and in some places, no one else to be seen. I read the next day in the paper that knifings in London were at an all-time high…something I’m glad I didn’t read beforehand. I did see a few characters up to the usual night time no good, but most people ignored me. I imagine I look as sketchy as the rest.

The walk was long in the 30 degree weather, though and the cold chill was knifing me far more than any thug, and at that point was really more dangerous. I could start to feel my legs getting stiff and a soreness was setting into my feet. I’ve been walking almost non-stop over the past several days…far more than I normally do. I crossed one of the bridges and headed back the way I’d come. I actually had no idea where I was, only that I was heading back in the general direction of everything. There were few buses at the hour and in that location so on I walked. I wasn’t miserable, just worn.

I’m glad I walked. Sometimes, you see the simplest and most extraordinary things down low and slow on the street when everyone else is flying by. Some short time before I’d started off on my journey, the same path had been taken by another. And that person had a message to leave for anyone who’d read. The first was a small heart drawn in chalk inside a small stone square of the walkway. And then another. Then 4 in a pattern. Every few meters there would be a small note, things like “Relax, nothing is under control,” and “You are perfect as you are.” Most of the messages were about peace and love, being who you are, being happy, finding happiness and unity. Nothing in the preaching line, and nothing negative. There was something simple and charming about it all and it made me smile and forget I was uncomfortable as I would look for the next and the next. All in all, they stretched more than a mile. I was the only person on the street for most of the walk, other than the artist who couldn’t have been far ahead. The street they ended on was the street I needed to turn on, the one that took me back to Trafalgar Square and eventually my hotel. I rested for a bit, and went right back out to have dinner and a couple of nice glasses of pinot grigio at an Italian place not far from the hotel.

Not a bad day at all.

God Save the Queen (and me from this Cab)

Posted on December 26, 2008

After a fast ride on Eurostar and an even faster, plummeting adventure in a London cab I arrived at the Sofitel London, St. James hotel, on Waterloo Place, a minute’s walk from St. James Park, and a few minutes from practically everything else. Strategically, it’s an excellent location and really it’s an excellent hotel, probably the nicest service of my trip.

I set out first thing, hand-drawn map in hand to find a Barclay’s ATM and get some Pounds. People really do seem to detest credit cards here so cash is the name of the game. I’d exchanged the Euros I had at the station to pay for my Cab ride of Doom and had only a few pence left. I’ve discovered that cash on hand is indeed very helpful. Also, if mugged, villains don’t take plastic. Well, they may take it…but not the way you might like. Fortunately though, no one mugged me. This was probably because there were thousands of people on the streets, day-after-Christmas shopping and there was simply no room to pull out a weapon and threaten me without getting trampled underfoot.

I think I can say without negativity at all that my first impression of London was, “Wow, what a happy and joyous clusterf*ck!” I mean that in the most sincere and nicest way, though. There is a mad chaos to the heightened shopping districts and a scattered flow of human mass that was disconcerting after being in the streamlined streets of Paris, where while also chaotic, have a bizarre sense of organization to them. London, not so much. Pedestrians constantly ignore the lights and get honked at every few moments because people are zooming about (cabbies in particular) and come from directions unexpected. It’s so much of an issue that the city’s painted instructions on the ground telling you which direction to look…something I found an exceptionally good idea.

Needless to say, I got lost that first night. Signage is something of a missing person in many areas, or exists on one corner or a round about and not at all on the other 7. I think I walked around the same few blocks for a couple of hours before I realized that the stores I was having to use as landmarks were in fact on every single corner, something else to keep in mind. There is an Angus Steakhouse on every block in every direction around Piccadilly, and Pret a Manger can be found sometimes within sight of the next Pret a Manger. It turned out, I only needed to turn the corner in the opposite direction and I was back on my street. Once learned though, I was fairly free to wander.

And wander I did! I found my ATM (in the back of a money exchange place) and then walked about a mile or two around the area. I grabbed a quick dinner at Pret and then found my way back to the circus. The masses moved in swells around this traffic light or that, and sometimes on a random cue, and swept up in the flow I simply went with it.

The cold was biting, though and staying our for more than a few hours at a time was exhausting. I rarely saw a bus that wasn’t packed beyond safety and walked the entire time.I did manage to find my way back to the hotel, though and discovered the first hotel with a bathtub I could actually fit in. It was very welcome after the cold afternoon and night and I made full use of it…once I figured out the 5 knobs on the plumbing. In the morning, I’ll go see if the Queen’s about.

December 2008

Posted on December 19, 2008

As the 2008 year comes to a close, I find myself waiting for the shuttle to take me to ATL and off to Paris. I’ll be in London for a few days of the holiday season and I’m really looking forward to it. I began planning and booking this trip back in June and honestly, the time has flown right by! I hope my time in the land of tea, Parliament and the Tube goes by with a little easier pace.

Right now, though…I just cannot wait. See you all on the other side of the Pond!