London Redux
Trip Start
Jul 07, 2005
1
9
14
Trip End
Sep 03, 2005
London,
United Kingdom
Sunday, July 31, 2005
The return to London had some interesting moments. I had settled my bill on Tuesday evening, and the ladies at Christkoenig-Kolleg Pension (It's a girls dormitory during the school year) put out some bread, meat and cheese for me to have breakfast, since I was leaving very early in order to catch a train to Munich airport. As I was eating, another guest came down. He hadn't settled his bill, so had lots of questions about what was happening. I had unlocked the inside front door so I could get out and had laid my keys on the counter as instructed. The other guest laid his keys down as well. Then I headed out the door to catch a bus to the train station. The other guest followed me out to check the door. Only he let the door close behind him. Now he had a problem: it was about 06:00, his bags were in the hallway, and he was essentially trapped between the inner and outer door. He couldn't get back in, and if he let the outer door close he would be out in the cold. There was nothing I could do to help, so he was going to wait until the ladies arrived about 07:00 to fix breakfast.
I caught the bus to the train station, had a short wait, and boarded the train for Munich. At Rosenheim, Germany, a large group of teens got on, and I shared my compartment with some of them. They were from Florida and had been in Bavaria for about a month on a mission trip with their church. Part of their work had been children's and youth work and helping at a camp. We had a very nice conversation about their experiences and the friendships they had made. Now they were heading to the Munich airport as well, then to Frankfurt and on to Florida.
When I arrived at the airport I checked in and went to the gate. The security check was one of the most thorough I have gone through. Not only did I have to take off my shoes, I practically had to unpack my carry-on, take out my computer, and let them swab several things to check for whatever chemicals they check for. German thoroughness strikes again! But I did feel safe. Then I settled in to wait for boarding.
The plane left right on time, and the flight was smooth, but when we arrived at Gatwick, it was raining (what else?). Going through passport control, I talked to the agent and learned that he was from Kenya, which is my next destination. He wished me a pleasant trip. By the time I walked the length of the terminal, our bags were coming down the carousel, so there was no wait in baggage claim. (Nice!) Then I took the shuttle tram to south terminal and walked to the train station for the Gatwick Express.
When I made my hotel reservations in April, the bombings in London had not yet occurred, so I had made the reservation for Russell Square (site of one of the bombings). The Piccadilly Line still wasn't operating between Hyde Park Corner and Arnos Grove, so I went to a Transport for London office to ask the best way to get where I needed to go. They told me to take a bus to Russell Square. When we got to Bloomsbury I recognized where I was from the British Museum and got off about 2 blocks from my hotel. That's the shortest distance I've ever walked from public transportation to my hotel.
When I tried to check in at the hotel, life suddenly got interesting. The hotel was already paid for, but they wanted to run my credit card in case I did something extra. (You know how hotels are.) However, the card was denied. Fortunately I had another credit card, but my task was now to solve the problem of my OCTFCU (Orange County Teachers Federal Credit Union) card. Once I got settled, I went out for dinner at a fish and chips shop that all the guidebooks recommended. It was near the hotel and had very good fish and chips. On the way I bought a phone card so I could call the credit union later. After dinner I walked to Trafalgar Square and went into a Waterstone's bookstore. I was trying to find a guidebook that would tell me where a "launderette" was - I found neither the book nor any listing for a launderette. The best I found was the advice to "look in the phone book." Not an easy task when the public phones no longer have phone books with them! I guess most guidebooks believe that everyone either washes things in the sink or lets the hotel laundry do it at exorbitant prices. (For anyone going to Europe, I recommend checking out Rick Steves' books; among the useful information they include is where to find a laundromat and Internet access, but Waterstone's didn't carry his books.)
Having failed in my quest, I headed back toward the hotel. I tried to contact OCTFCU a couple of times but wasn't able to get through, so I decided to try again on Thursday. I did find a cyber café and got online. First I checked my e-mail - some of you heard from me; then I googled for launderettes in London and found one near the hotel, just off Russell Square. After getting off the computer, I walked over to be sure where it was. A lady was doing laundry and writing in her journal. She was nice enough to give me her leftover detergent and explain how the machines operate. Then I headed back to the hotel to settle in for the evening. Heard that they had arrested a suspect in the second bombing attempt. The newspapers - especially the tabloids - have been doing articles about how England has accepted these refugees and supported them only to have them turn against her. Of course, many are concerned that anti-Muslim violence will increase after these attacks.
Thursday I did some sightseeing. First I went to the Houses of Parliament to see if I could get a tour, only to discover that my timing was impeccable: when Parliament is in session, I could sit in the gallery and watch; however, Parliament went home last week, and the summer recess tours don't start until August; I arrived during the one week it's impossible to get into Parliament at all. Instead I walked around Parliament Square taking pictures and then headed up Whitehall to the Cabinet War Rooms and the Churchill Museum. The Churchill Museum is a new addition to the Cabinet War Rooms and makes the visit even more worthwhile than before. I recommend going there. Just be certain you have some time to spend, as it is very complete and also has interactive exhibits.
After spending all morning and early afternoon at the Cabinet War Rooms, I walked along St. James's Park to the Mall and Trafalgar Square. There I went into St. Martin-in-the-fields Church. A group was rehearsing for a concert that evening, so I stayed a while and listened. Then I walked to Charing Cross and Embankment and listened to an open-air vocal concert in the park. After that I headed to Westminster Abbey for evensong. The service was wonderful. It had been rainy and drizzling all day, but during the service the sun came out and shone brightly through the stained-glass windows. On a day like that, let no one try to tell you that a gothic church is "dark"; the abbey was filled with light, which provided a dazzling adjunct to the songs of praise and the worship that was going on inside. Truly a spiritually uplifting experience.
On the bus on the way back to the hotel I realized that I had been so caught up in what was happening that I had left my jacket on the chair in the abbey. Since there was no way to go back and get it - the abbey being closed - I decided to go back Friday morning. I also tried to get in touch with OCTFCU again. This time I got through only to be told that an outside company monitors card usage; they spotted an unusual charge (the car rental), couldn't contact me (Duh! I was in Europe), and blocked the card. They gave me a number to call, but when I called it, all I got was a message stating that that number didn't accept collect calls. (I wasn't calling collect; I was using a phone card.) Now I was starting to get frustrated, so I decided to wait until Friday and try again.
Friday morning the first order of business was to go back to Westminster Abbey to get my jacket. When I asked at the gate, the warden described the jacket, told me where I had left it and what was in the pockets. Obviously, they had it! He radioed another warden who brought out the wrong jacket, so I went inside with him to identify it. I saw my jacket lying on a table rather than lost and found. The warden hadn't paid any attention to it there because he was looking for a "jacket" rather than an "anorak." (Who was it that said that Americans and English are a single people separated by a common language?)
From the abbey I caught a bus to the Imperial War Museum. It was one of the old Roadmaster double-decker buses with the attendant on the back platform that they're phasing out. The attendant said he would tell me which was my stop and, in fact, had me get off while the bus was stopped at a red light because we were closer than the official stop. You can't do that on the new buses! I had intended to spend a fairly short time in the war museum, but their special exhibit on "Children and the War" was so excellent I stayed for quite a while. As part of the exhibit they had volunteers who had been child evacuees present their experiences. I talked for a while with a lady who had spent time in three different places as an evacuee. She belongs to a group that meets regularly and has trained to go to schools and other organizations to share her experiences. She said that for years she never talked about the war, so her children didn't know what she had done until they were grown and the educational opportunities began to present themselves. Recently she had been invited to present to her grandson's school class. It was fascinating talking to her about the effect of the war on her family, her experience of the "Battle of Britain," and other things. By the time I had visited the exhibit and re-visited other parts of the museum, it was time for a nice late lunch in the cafeteria. Incidentally, museums and other public places often have cafeterias where you can get a nice meal for not a lot of money.
When I left the museum I looked for a phone booth to try to call about my credit card again, but had no luck. So I caught a bus to Victoria Station and visited the Transport for London office. They had helped me get to Russell Square, so I figured they could help me get from Russell Square to Heathrow. My usual route on the Piccadilly Line (a straight shot from Russell Square to Heathrow) was still unavailable because of the aftermath of the 7 July bombing. Since I was leaving early on a Sunday morning, I knew there would be fewer options than during the business day. At the TfL office, they suggested taking a bus from Russell Square to King's Cross, then the Metropolitan and City Line to Paddington for the Heathrow Express. I decided to check out the route later so I wouldn't have any surprises.
In the meantime, I went to Bramah's Tea and Coffee Museum. This is not one of the big attractions in London. I recommend the museum only if you are a big fan of either tea or coffee or both. The afternoon tea in the shop was nice, though. While I was enjoying my tea, Mr. Bramah came over and chatted with me.
From there I went to try a "dry run" for Sunday. I caught a bus to King Cross Station. All of the entrances to the Tube involved a lot of steps, so I walked to Euston Square, because I knew that the bus from Russell Square stopped there. When I went inside to check on first train on Sunday, the agent was very helpful. I explained to her what I wanted to do, and she told me it was an absolutely brilliant plan - except that the Hammersmith and City Line wasn't operating because it runs through Edgeware Road station - one of the other stations that was bombed on 7 July. Now I was getting a taste of what Londoners have been dealing with: you have to be creative to get where you want to go right now. Since I was doing a lot by bus, I was also learning my way around London, even to the point of being able to tell where I was because it looked familiar. The TfL agent helped me rule out just about every connection using the Underground and then handed me a bus map to look over; the buses start running earlier than the Tube trains. I decided to look over the map in the evening and do another "dry run" on Saturday. Now it was time to head back toward Russell Square and try to call about my credit card again.
When I got back to Russell Square I went to a shop where you place a call and then pay when you have finished. The credit card monitoring place still wouldn't accept my "collect call," even though I was dialing direct. So, I found another phone booth and tried with the phone card again. I called OCTFCU and asked for a supervisor. Just as I finished explaining my dilemma, my time ran out. Talk about frustration! So, I walked to Charing Cross Road and found the cyber café I had used on Thursday, bought another phone card, and called again. This time I had plenty of minutes to stay on the phone and get things straightened out. The first time I had called, the phone representative had said they couldn't do anything about my card being blocked. The supervisor, though, admitted that they had erred because they had failed to inform Visa of my travel plans, even though I had informed OCTFCU, and unblocked the card while I waited on the phone. Later I had the hotel run my card, and everything was fine. As it turned out, I'm really glad I took the time to trouble-shoot all of that in London. You'll have to wait for the Kenya installment to find out why. (Hint: a flat tire in the Maasai Mara Reserve is involved.)
Saturday morning I went back to the British Museum to get a present for my niece, then headed toward Covent Garden. On the way I was looking for a barbershop that wasn't too expensive. I finally found one in Neal's Yard, just a few blocks north of Covent Garden. At first they told me they didn't trim beards, but then the barber said he would do it, only with the clippers and not with scissors. That was fine with me. Even though we both were speaking English, we obviously weren't communicating well, since he cut my hair significantly shorter than I had wanted. But that worked out okay, since going on safari in Kenya works better with shorter hair anyway. For those of you who know me, though, be warned: my hair is shorter than it has been in years.
After being shorn, I went to Covent Garden and looked around. They were having a festival, and a band was doing a "pops" concert. Then I went to Belgo Centraal for lunch. It's a great restaurant that is much cheaper for lunch than for dinner. I had a great steak for not too much money. From there I walked to Trafalgar Square and visited the National Portrait Gallery. This was my first time there, and I only got to the Tudor and Stewart areas. Then I caught the Tube to South Kensington and visited the Victoria and Albert Museum. I was a bit disappointed, because they are renovating, and their medieval section is currently not displayed well.
From the V&A I went to Paddington Station and worked my way back to Russell Square. The bus connections to Euston and then Paddington would make me too late to get to Heathrow for my flight, so I was looking at taking a taxi to Paddington. Then I discovered bus No. 7. It goes fairly directly from Russell Square to Paddington Station, and the first Sunday bus leaves Russell Square at 5:42. Success!
Then it was back to the hotel, get my laundry, go to the launderette, and do laundry. While I was there I helped a family from Colorado navigate the machines. Dad obviously doesn't do laundry much. He had the machine so full of suds that they were going to have to run the clothes again with just water to get the detergent out. Back at the hotel I began packing. Then the concierge called to ask if I was interested in a shuttle from the hotel to the airport. Naturally I was, but the concierge couldn't get in touch with the dispatcher, so it was back to Plan B (for bus).
Sunday morning I was up, packed and at the bus stop in plenty of time. But the bus was running late, but that was okay. At Paddington Station I caught the Heathrow Express, only it wasn't very "express." They were doing engineering work on the tracks, and we had to go slowly and then wait at a station for the tracks to clear. As a result I arrived at Heathrow later than I had wanted, but still with time to catch the plane without a problem. Check-in went smoothly. Even though my bag was overweight (by 4.5 kilo), the agent simply tagged it "heavy" and didn't charge me. Going through security, agents were randomly pulling people out of the queue and asking to see boarding passes or weighing carry-on. They pulled a guy a couple of places behind me out of line and made him do something about his bag that was over the 11-kilo limit. Since I had two bags (a computer and a backpack) and knew I was well over the limit, I tried simply to look inconspicuous. The fact that both bags are black and the jacket I had on was black probably helped them not notice just how big the backpack was. At any rate, I got through security and onto the plane with no hassles.
From London to Nairobi I flew Kenya Airways. The service was good, and the flight was wonderfully boring. Upon arrival in Nairobi, I got through Immigration and Customs with no problems other than being in a line that went over twice as slowly as the other lines because there were two agents working it rather than one. Once I was through, though, and got my luggage, I was quickly out the door. There I met my brother and nephew, and we headed for the hotel.
What happens after that will be in my Kenya dispatch, so everyone will have to wait to read it. I am having a great time and enjoying being with my family. We've had some adventures on safari and some time just to relax and visit. So it's ta-ta for now.
