A Different Day

Today, we started out very slowly. It was to be a different day for us. No touring, but lunch with Trevor, Karina and Collette (Trevor’s daughter). They were coming into the City to see a show. And, perhaps more importantly, Jeff and I were taking a train across the west of England, through Wales and back into England to have some time with Scott, Amanda’s husband. He was in the country on business and as we had the more flexible schedule, we made travel plans.

In a way, it was really nice to have a slow start to the day. Got to make a little order out of the chaos we called our room and have a sleep in. We were still a little weary from our day before. A nice breakfast, and while I showered and got ready, Jeff went to Victoria Station to buy tickets for the train I had researched. And we had a pleasant surprise. Though the young man selling the tickets didn’t ask Jeff (apparently he has poor age judgment and has been reamed a couple of times for making a mistake!), an older gentleman came up and asked Jeff if he were over 55. When Jeff said that both of us were, we got out tickets for a flat £25 each instead of the £45 we had been expecting. Seems The Great Western was running a special for over 55 and we gladly took advantage of it!

According to our innkeeper, Matt, we would likely get back to Paddington Station too late for the underground, so he recommended we take a cab back to the Lime Tree. We told him to tell Allan we would be late, and off we went. We were getting quite smug about our travel skills, but still took Trevor up on his offer to pick us up in the cab they would be taking from Victoria to the restaurant. We hadn’t spent much time in Soho, so welcomed the ride – and chalked up another cultural experience in a London black taxi!

The restaurant was a new French one, and I think if they get some of their service bugs worked out, it may do well. Prices were almost reasonable … for London, that is! Trevor wouldn’t let us pay our way (he reminds me of Uncle Bebe that way!) and we were grateful for the meal, but especially the company.

We were all so enjoying the conversation and company, that we went over time for all of us and the Griffiths had to hustle to get to the theatre on time (fortunately it was just around the corner). I figured we should be able to get to Paddington Station in 45 minutes. Forgot we had to first FIND an underground station (actually, very well marked – this is a very popular part of London what with all of the theatres and dining establishments). We made it to the Tube, got on the right train and ended up in Paddington Station – and were immediately the country mice in the big city. If I thought that Victoria was busy … Paddington disabused me of that! OMG! It was 2:30 in the afternoon on a weekday, and the crowds and noise and activity sort of stunned us into deer in the headlights! By the time we got our acts together and asked for assistance, we had just missed our train. So began the journey!

With good-natured patience, the ticket agent recommended we get on the next train --- that was leaving in about 2 minutes! Off we went, hiked the full length of the train to the designated car and plopped at a table seat. Little did we know we were in a quiet car … and it is just that. Voices are hushed and people either read or worked. I actually wrote on the blog until my battery got low.

We rode through villages and countryside to Newport, Wales, where we changed for a short run up to Hereford where Scott was. Jeff had managed to get him on our mobile (THAT’S another story, the cell phone!) to let him know we would be about half an hour later than planned. Not that we were going to have much time, but it cut it by 25%. The train was very clean and comfortable and quiet on The Great Western – when we got onto the Welsh rail system, there was a noticeable difference, primarily in the noise as they still use diesel powered locomotives.

The Welsh countryside, just coming onto dusk, was nothing short of spectacular. Hilly, like southern Chautauqua County, but green. An emerald green and all the variations of that rich, almost three-dimensional color. I mean I thought we were green in Fredonia, but this was like nothing I had ever seen before. It is very hard to describe – almost luminescent. Fields are all bordered with hedgerows and there seemed to be an equal number of cows, sheep and horses.

We pulled into Hereford on time. You can say that about the trains in Great Britain -- they run on time. And the underground … well, I have a story to tell of that later. Scott was waiting right outside the station and we walked to a nearby pub for a quick bite. I know most people would have thought us daft at burning 7 hours of travel time to spend and hour and a half with Scott, but we didn’t see it that way. He had had his birthday while out of the country, and though his mates saw to it that they hoisted a few, it still wasn’t the same as being home. And we simply don’t get to see that much of Scott, so we were daft and enjoyed our modicum of time with him.

He drove us back to the station in the rental car his company had gotten – a Mercedes, don’t you know. Scott said they had tried to offer them an Audi TT, but they couldn’t get themselves and their luggage in it. Besides, Scott opined that Amanda would have his head – a TT is the car that Amanda has always aspired to, a silver one. And she would wear it so well!

Train pulled in, we piled on and we were off. Our conductor looked like that Irish tenor, the big one with the bum leg. Was very jolly and had us all laughing. Got to Newport and even figured out the right tracks … until there was a train late because of an accident and then we very nearly missed ours as it came in on the other track and we had to OJ Simpson up the stairs, across the pedestrian bridge and back down. I mean, these trains wait for no one! The engineer announced that there would be stretches of slower travel and there were many groans from the young people eager to get to London to start their weekend. As this was the last train of the day, it was pretty full. But, never underestimate the determination of an engineer who sounded like he had had a long day and wanted nothing more than too be home, toasting his toes at the fire. He put the hammer down! We arrived at Paddington Station 10 minutes early, even with the slow stretches and the fact that a train may not leave a station early. Well, shoot, we were golden, then. Plenty of time to, make our underground connections from Paddington to Victoria. We walked slowly back to our hotel, enjoying the lovely Belgravia neighborhood. Allan was there at the door to answer our ring and welcome us back.

Tired, happy – I’m off, with love