Day 1 in London

May 31, 2012.

I arrived at Heathrow this afternoon, much later than expected due to several delays on the Dallas end. Morning thunderstorms pushed out our original departure time by 2 hours; then a sick passenger had to be taken off by paramedics and thus his or her luggage had to be retrieved from the hold, which meant offloading all the baggage and re-matching each item to the passenger manifest. Finally we started taxiing, and this went on for nearly 30 minutes until I began to wonder if we were going to drive all the way to London. Our pilot eventually explained that the wind direction had changed since the original flight plans were made, so we were allocated a different runway.

However I slept well on the plane (a first!) and found my plans falling into place as soon as I arrived. Bought a cappucino at Cafe Nero (and collected my loyal customer card) in Paddington Station, and picked up my train tickets for Saturday's trip to Oxford, before walking to my nearby hotel.

By the time I arrived at the (petite? bijou? Euro-style? cramped?) Caesar Hotel I was pretty tired, but as it was only 4:30 or so, I suddenly felt the need for a cuppa. So off I went again on shank's mare (shoe leather express, if you prefer) towards Bayswater Road and Queensway, where I didn't find a cafe that looked very good, but did find a Starbucks, and settled for that.

Right across the road from Queensway is Kensington Park and Kensington Palace. I spent the rest of my little excursion delightedly walking through the park, snapping shots of birds, trees, a pond and a squirrel, and enjoying watching cyclists, boys playing kick ball, mums wheeling babies in carriages, and ordinary people walking around like me.

I have scouted the area around my hotel pretty well and I can find 4 tube stations and the train station so that's good. Right after I checked in to the hotel I tried out the TV in my room and on BBC 2 there two bearded blokes were cooking rabbit and game. Feels like home again.

Day 2 in London

Woke up rather tired, and late. Had a bracing cuppa at a local bistro along with a chocolate croissant. Then tubed it to Trafalgar Square, where the first order of the day was to visit the Queen's Portrait exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery, along with a tour of the rest of gallery as well.

I paid homage to the pigeons in Trafalgar Square, and noted how cleverly they drink from the water fountains for people, then crossed the street to St. Martin-in-the-Fields, which used to be my parish church and where I was wed in the eyes of God. Unfortunately for me, a lunchtime concert was in progress, so I was unable to go into the sanctuary to genuflect and reflect.

However, I did go down into the Crypt Cafe for lunch. All I had was broccoli and Stilton soup. Still lacking an appetite but I needed fuel for all the walking. I remember the crypt when that was all it was - just a crypt - no fancy glass lift down to it from the street, no gift shop, no fancy menu. Just a place where we gathered after church services, walking down the old stone steps to drink filthy coffee in green cups and eat a Marie biscuit for 10 pence.

The Stilton soup revived me enough to make my way to the Tate Britain for the Picasso exhibit and the Turners - the bloody marvelous Turners. I have not been to the Tate since I lived here in 1978.


I returned to the hotel with time enough to clean up and head back out to Leicester Square for the very silly drawing room comedy, "Hay Fever" at the Noel Coward Theatre, starring the delectable Jeremy Northam, plus Lindsay Duncan and other fine actors. Yum!

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