After a perfectly good night’s sleep (and almost over-sleeping breakfast) we headed downstairs to the breakfast room where we met our host, Matt Davies, a polished and delightful young man, and a fount of information! As we ate (for Jeff a full English breakfast and for me a continental breakfast of porridge, fruit and bran, toast, juice and excellent rich coffee. For those who think English coffee is weak and thin, we have not yet found it to be so! They also serve excellent pots of tea – the coffee comes in a pot so refills are readily at hand. ), I found out a few things I didn’t know -- such as you can tell a Scotsman from an Englishman by what he puts on his porridge. An Englishman uses brown sugar; a Scot salts. Doncha know the first thing I did was salt my porridge – even before learning this new observation. Guess that de facto proved his point!
He gave us excellent advice as newcomers to London who wanted to see it all, but needed some judicious guidance so we didn’t burn ourselves out in the first day. He listened patiently to all of the places we said we wanted to see, and offered excellent counsel. First, take one of the tour buses (we did the Big Bus Company and rode the red line which has live tour commentary). Second, though every tourist in London would be at the changing of the guards at Buckingham Palace, little known was a changing of the guards at St. James Palace, home of Prince Charles and THAT woman (surprising how strongly many Brits feel about Camilla … and not very positively, even those who keep politics out of it!). Ten minutes walk, assured Matt – he of the long legs! – we learned to add at least 10 minutes when he said 20 and so forth.
So we headed out past Buckingham Palace (I know – we were at the gates where all of the flowers for Diana were laid … incredible) to St. James Palace amidst London bobbies and Palace guards and GOD, it was amazing!!! Watched the changing of the guards, complete with ceremony, pomp and music – yes, there was a regimental band playing who, after the changing of the guard, marched out along the avenue along to Buckingham Palace. The bobbies, on huge horses (most were 18 hands if they were an inch and groomed within an inch if their lives!), kept the crowd off the street – even the “lesser” crowds of September – HAH! We scrambled along with Jeff frantically snapping away with the camera. At one point, I passed him and thought that he heard me go by. NOT!! And here I went, blubbering away. Not even my country, and I was so verklempt about how beautiful it was, how strong, after all these years, the tradition was, the dedication and discipline of the corps, and here we were actually seeing and experiencing that which we had only ever seen on television or on screen or imagined in books and our mind’s eye! Don’t know what the people on the street thought of me bawling – perhaps nothing as most were tourists, but I AM sure the police were giving me a long look! Interesting crowd management, too. Police on horseback would simply imperiously point at people who stepped into the road or someplace they shouldn’t have and motion back and no one argued at all! Everyone under stood that stern stare and body language – to say nothing of the warhorses they were riding!
Headed into the sea of people around Buckingham Palace. The police were having a devil of a time keeping a lane open for people to walk by. At one point (and I have to say this was the only time I heard a police officer show any frustration or pique), after about the 75th iteration of his orders to stay behind the barrier or towards the street and keep a lane clear, he was heard to say, ”We are a country of laws. Go to Spain if you want to break the law.” I know I laughed. People were standing on all of the levels of the monument that faces the gates and courtyard and hanging everywhere. I did manage to insinuate myself into the crowd and gradually move forward as impatient tourists (mostly the Italians and the Germans, it seemed) took a couple of photos and then left the ceremony. I did get in close enough to see one guardhouse change and by the time we were at the “battle of the bands”, I was one back from the fence, directly behind a huge footballer. He sort of turned around and saw how short I was and promptly opened a space for me to move to the front! Chivalry is definitely not dead!
The regimental band from St. James’ Palace (in blue) and those from Buckingham Palace (in red with the big black bear hats) proceeded to have a band concert, alternating playing and quite a variety of music. Eventually, though, they were formed up into ranks by officers and marched out the gate of Buckingham Palace, around the monument and through another gate and away.
The crowd slowly dispersed and I realized that it was going to be a bit before Jeff and I found each other. On the one hand, I was wearing a yellow short and there was little yellow in the crowd, so I climbed up and hung off the fence, scanning the crowd, hoping that Jeff would spot the dotty redhead in the yellow shirt on the fence. On the other hand, there were 1,000,000 bald or close cropped men in tan fleeces or jackets!!! The story does have a happy ending – I had wilted to sitting on the concrete ledge at the base of the fence when Jeff finally spotted me. He had thought that I had gone ahead where we were to pick our tour bus and when I wasn’t there, he came back to find me. A modest bit of ire expressed, but nothing like the snarling between husband and wife that we had witnessed earlier – divorce court, here they come, and the wife was announcing it long and loudly to the entire City!
We got our tour bus tickets (a HO HO bus – Hop On, Hop Off) from an American living and working in London. Took the red line as that has live commentary versus the blue that had an audio guide good for those who didn’t particularly speak or understand English well. And, of course, though it was chilly, we headed right up to the top of the bus! By that time, it actually felt good to sit down. Because it had been quite warm in the morning when we started out, I was in a travel skirt and short sleeved shirt, wearing flip-flops. While the sun shone, it was very pleasant, but if it ducked under a cloud, it got quite cool. I think the thing we found most notable about the weather is that it is nearly instantaneously changeable! So far, no need for the sweaters in the City.
Matt had suggested that we ride the bus to St. Paul’s cathedral, get off there, cross the Thames on the Millenium Bridge (a foot bridge only) and walk down to the Globe theatre to see about tickets because I had wanted to see the current production of As You Like It, a play I had done in college. From there, we could walk along the Thames to the Tower Bridge and then over to the Tower, pick up our bus there again and head back to the hotel. Right. Know the old saw about “best laid plans”? Well, we were happy “ victims” of that.
Saw a good bit of London from the bus and learned very interesting history (and a great deal of myth!) from the guide. He was alternatively funny and informative. Off at St. Paul’s and nearly 3 PM so Jeff and I thought we’d better take sustenance before we became a headline – Two Americans Collapse from Hunger at St. Paul’s. Had two of the best burgers and some fries, caffeine and sugar, and then we were ready. Walked across the Thames on the Millenium Bridge and found The Globe.
“Sorry, sold out. Um, no, sold out for that performance, too. Oh, that one, too. Love’s Labour Lost opens Friday and we have a few seats for that. Oh, wait, someone just turned in some tickets for tonight’s performance. Are you interested?” And our plans instantly changed! We also got tickets to the lecture shortly before the show and had about an hour or so to kill, so we headed along the riverwalk towards London Bridge, stopping on the way back at a Greek restaurant for a glass of wine and some nuts for Jeff, olives for me.
The lecture was by Professor Henry Woudhuygsen – that’s Woodhouse in less exotic spelling! – and he had all of the dry humor and charm one comes to expect from Englishmen. Self-effacing, kind and extremely knowledgible, it was entertaining and informing and gave some food for thought. And, I have come to the conclusion that academics are the same everywhere – giving of their knowledge and getting rewarded by the attention of students. And good students we all were with questions and comments!
The performance was magical for me. Many students standing in the pit before us – we were in
the stalls, first level, first row – kept looking back as I laughed or guffawed at the hidden jokes in Shakespeare’s language. It brought back many performance memories for me and was such a unique venue, open to the elements (and thank goodness it wasn’t raining or cold! It is my understanding that the show goes on, rain or shine! Very well actd, though I sometimes felt sorry for actors blocked to run through the crowd in the pit to give other entrances than those on the stage. Jeff seemed to enjoy himself, too, and that was a bonus for me.So, the show is out, it is nearly eleven – how do we get home? The easy answer is a taxi, but our trusty Fodor’s guide and a dose of confidence meant we headed back over the Thames on the Millenium Bridge, heading for Blackfriars Underground Station. A short walk until we found that the station was closed for repairs and renovation! That meant hiking to the next stop, Temple. How we actually would found it had there not been copious signs, I’m not sure. We did pass through some closes and tight streets and lanes, but were not accosted and soon found the station.
Being brain-dead at that point (remember, I am hiking miles in flip-flops – after buying all of those expensive walking shoes!), both Jeff and I stood looking at the ticket machine like it was an alien artifact! This isn’t the first subway/underground we have navigated – did fine in Barcelona and we didn’t speak Spanish! Our luck held as a station attendant patiently showed us what we might have discovered ourselves given time and none of the people in line behind us! So, we navigated our way through the underground to Victoria Station and from there the couple of blocks back to the hotel. We smugly rang the bell for Allan to let us in, and, happy and tired, crawled into bed. And that was Tuesday.
Will post Wednesday tomorrow AM ... right now, it is bedtime for a much bedraggled and train-weary Maggie.
Off, with love --
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