Jolly Old England
We are ending our three days in England, which have
really flown by. We started the trip on Sunday with a flight from Dulles
to Heathrow. We were on Virgin Atlantic in what they call Premium Economy.
It is certainly better than Economy, with 38" of pitch and 21" wide
seats, but Business Class it is not. The crew was wonderful: We gave out our normal See's lollipops, and
they were only too happy to get us some real Premium drinks from Upper Class,
which made the flight much more enjoyable. They also brought us a few glasses
of real Champagne, not the sparkling wine they serve in Premium Economy.
Somehow Virgin has decided to go retro with their Champagne glasses and they
are the old wide shallow glasses, supposedly modeled on Marie Antoinette’s left
breast. (Remember I’m a wine historian!)
We landed at seven am, still dark, and after
getting some coffee and snacks; we took the Heathrow Connect train to
Paddington Station and then a taxi to the Marriott at Maida Vale. We have
stayed here before and really enjoy the walking that you can do from here. We
are close to Regent Park, which is gloriously blooming with late roses and
butterfly friendly plants. The staff here was only too happy to speed up
the cleaning of a room for us and we were able to get into a room and cleaned
up by 11am. We took a long walk and found a marvelous 150-year-old pub, The Warrington, which has one
of the most beautiful bars I've ever seen. Our waiter was a young man from
Italy so we hit it off and had a traditional pub lunch with wine instead of
beer or cider. We walked home and hit the pillows for a well-deserved 90-minute
nap, which was spot.
We took another long wake up walk around the ’hood
and then back to dress for dinner at the lovely restaurant here at the
hotel. The food was really marvelous and just what we needed before a
long sleep. I think that I know why there is such a great deal of
unemployment in England. They seem to only hire young kids from other
countries to handle all of their hospitality slots. We have met Italians,
Romanians, Lithuanians, Russians, Spaniards and Middle Easterners, but only one
waiter has been from England.
On Tuesday we did the cultural tour, which included
two visits to the museum at the Royal
Academy of Music and a lovely piano trio recital in one of the
halls of the Academy. A long and languid walk through Regent’s Park
followed by a very light lunch at a bistro we found between the park and the
hotel followed that. Truly a lovely day in London.
Today was an adventure with public transportation
as we meandered around London enroute to the Borough Market, which
is the oldest food market in London. It is fast against the Thames River and
filled with all the vegetables, fruits, cheeses, seafood and meats you can
imagine. We wandered about for an hour or so before taking a long walk along
the river and yet another pub lunch followed by yet another long walk.
There is a definite theme here. Next to the Market is the Southwark Cathedral, which
has been around in one form or another since 606AD. It was fun to wander around
the interior where everyone you ever heard of in England either worshipped or
just hung out.
We took the Tube home to Maida Vale and walked
around looking for a place for dinner.
We found a spot we had never noticed - it has only been there for twenty
years - and walked in at 8 pm without a reservation since we hadn’t been
anyplace in the neighborhood that even took reservations. They did find a table for us and oh my what a
table. Imagine a stage set for a
Venetian Palace, with Arabic balconies and Victorian scrollwork, and that will
give you a bit of a clue as to this place.
We were led up a very narrow flight of stairs that let to one table for
four people high above the restaurant.
Across from us was another balcony with seating for eight and to my left
a balcony for four on the other side of the small restaurant (all four corners
had a ceiling alcove like ours). The wait staff certainly had their work cut
out for them with all the climbing up and down, but the food was good, the wine
was reasonable and I felt like we had dinner and a show.
On Thursday morning it was off to St.
Pancras International to get our Eurostar through the Chunnel. On our
last visit to London, Cindy and I went to the old St.
Pancras Train Station and marveled at how beautifully restored it was
and how magnificent it must have been to begin or end a journey at the station.
Back then we wandered up to the grand Champagne Bar and had a lovely glass of
bubbly while watching the folks across the elevated tracks boarding trains for
romantic destinations. We decided then
and there that on our next trip to London we would take the train to
Paris. Well the train to Paris goes from
an entirely different, but very close, location. Once in the international station
we had to clear immigration and security, and the next thing I knew we were in
this large rather soulless waiting area. There was no elegant Champagne Bar,
just a Café Nero with paper cups and long lines. There were no elegantly dressed people mingling
about but rather rude Brits who smelled rather bad. Cindy and I had dressed for the occasion and
I did look a bit out of place with my jacket and tie, but everyone must have
thought I was just the agent for the beautiful model who was accompanying me to
Paris for Fashion Week.
The train itself was a bit of a
disappointment. Anyone who has seen the
first Mission Impossible with Tom Cruise will remember many scenes on the Eurostar. Those scenes were taken in First Class, not
in Standard, which is where we were seated.
It is typical two by two seating and very much like coach on an airplane
with very little legroom, but rather comfy seats for the 2.5-hour trip. The
train was rather full for a mid-day Thursday and it departed and arrived right
on time. As we started to move I realized that we were riding backwards, which
I really despise, but there was no option.
The trip out of London towards the channel seems to be nothing but a
series of tunnels punctuated by industrial blight. Prior to entering the
Chunnel we went to the snack car and got a sandwich, sparkling wine and French
white; I was bound and determined to make this special. Soon we entered the Chunnel where the
twenty-minute ride was remarkably smooth. Once out of the Chunnel we were in
the French countryside and everything seemed right with the world.
More on France later. Cindy and Wm
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