Monday, November 05, 2007

London Sights

This morning John and I are headed to London. 11:00am: I call John to wake him up so we can get started. Sure, it's a bit of a late start. But, I wanted to make sure John had enough sleep and I was busy watching Two and a Half Men. So, we pile into the car and head off to the train station. No, I still don't drive into London. You go down the wrong street and you'll get ticketed with a congestion charge. Besides, I don't want to have to deal with parking while I'm there.

The train ride into Fenchurch Street station brings no surprises to me. I've been on this route a number of times now and can still do it without too much worry. We head out of the station towards (in my mind at least) the Tower of London. Sure enough, after several minutes of walking, I realize that I've chosen the wrong direction. So, we head down another street. Rest assured, dear readers, that the Tower of London was found by our heroes. We walk round the exterior of the castle and John decides that he's not going to fork over the 16 pounds to wander the insides as well. Besides, we've got quite a bit of London to see in one day :). While we're in the area, we do get a good look at both the Tower Bridge and the HMS Belfast.

By this time John tells me that it's come time to eat. I'm up for some of that. I explain that we've got a couple main choices. We can eat the overpriced, crappy food that can be found around the Tower where we are, or we can find an open pub. The smile on his face gave me the answer. Strange that I have a hard time remembering the directions to the Tower from the train station, but, can remember the exact location of the nearest pub; The Hung, Drawn and Quartered. Food was ordered as well as a couple pints; Fuller's Chisswick for me (a bitter) and Fuller's Discovery Blonde for John. We also got to sample the ESB. I said that would be my next pint before realizing that we won't be here for a second pint...too much to do. A trio of people sat down next to us and began chatting amongst themselves. Only near large tourist attractions such as the Tower could I come to London and sit down next to other Americans.

We'd seen the major items on John's list in this area of town. That means we need to grab the underground. We walk over to the terminal only to be confronted with the roll up doors locked and a couple of Underground employees standing out front. The Circle Line was down for the weekend for planned maintenance. Crap on a cupcake! It's my main line of travel through London. The nice lady standing in front tells us to grab the number fifteen bus across the street and get off a couple stops down and grab the District Line.

Well, we walked over to the bus which proudly stated it was heading to Trafalgar Square. Happy Day! That's one of the places on the hit list. We can take the bus the whole way. Sweet! So, we step onto the bus (more like crowd onto the bus) and head off towards the destination we had planned. Not too much time passes when we're told, basically, to get the hell off the bus. We've arrived at the last stop.

We walk to our location; Trafalgar Square. Nelson's Column looms before us. I begin to tell John about Admiral Horatio Nelson. John looks at me like I'm speaking of things that have happened during our own times. It warms me. I enjoy teaching. I enjoy giving out knowledge. However, he already knows about this. I should have known when he specifically asked to see Trafalgar Square. Not many Americans would ask to come to this location. Most people, I would think, would want to see the really popular things; Big Ben, Parliament, Tower of London, Westminster Abbey, etc. Not many of us would actually know about Trafalgar Square. Not many would know about Nelson.

Regardless, we wander the square. We take in the sights. We enjoy, and we move on. As we walk away from Nelson's Column, I decide we should take an exact opposite path of my trip in February. So, I start down an Eastern road, called The Mall.

Not too long until we get to a point where the street has been closed off from car traffic entirely. John asks if this is some sort of parade route. I smile and say "sort of". Eventually, we move from the side walk into the street. See, The Mall runs from Admiralty Arch down to Buckingham Palace. It's usually closed to car traffic on the weekends, in my albeit very little, experience. We walk down and gawk a bit at the Queen Victoria Monument and the Palace itself.

I have, yet again, showed up at a time when the guards are dressed in their drab gray uniforms and not in the standard red ones that they are known for. I am a little bummed out that I have yet to capture a guard in the red uniform.

We wander back through St. James Park to the Horse Guards Parade. I am still amazed that the first time I wandered through this park it was a big "mistake" for me. I had been looking for Trafalgar Square and got sidetracked :). Anyway, we wandered through the park, all the while chit-chatting about this or that. I marveled at the amount of people that were there compared to February. The place was bustling with people as well as water fowl and squirrels. You should see the amount of squirrels that are there this time of year. You can't walk ten feet without seeing one...waiting for somebody to call it over to take a peanut out of their hand. Yup, they're pretty tame, if you want to call them that. Hand fed, definitely.

We wander through the Horse Guard Parade grounds. There are a couple of them on foot in the grounds. I was telling John that you do *not* want to get in their way when they move.Last time I was here, one began his march and yelled out something (which I couldn't make out) to the people in front of him as he marched from one post to another. The people who were in the way almost jumped out of his way. We walked in front of the Parade Grounds where there were mounted horsemen. I'm surprised that people get close and pet the horses with signs like this.

Just down the road is a road that many would recognize; Downey Street. I tell John that's what we're approaching. It only takes him a couple seconds before he asks "Isn't that where the Prime Minister lives?" I'm so proud :).

As we pass on down the street towards Parliament, John gets a call form home. We are just down the street from some big sites. I can already see Big Ben peaking up over the rooftops ahead. If you're not looking for it, you can easily miss it. John apparently has. I get a little bit more giddy with each step. Silly? Yeah, I know. But, My buddy Ben is a lot bigger in real life than he is on television. Parliament is huge an ornate. It's impressive. Until you take Ben into your vision. The clock tower is enormous. To me, it really is lager than life. John mentions the detail of Parliament. He seems impressed by the building until he sees the clock tower. Then I get the "Wow" from him. It's a little bit of justification for me. It's nice to hear that something that impressed me with it's grandeur had the same kind of effect on someone else.

As we walk towards Westminster Abbey John finally gets a hold of his niece Katie. We had been trying to reach them for a get together while John was here. Well, shock of shocks, they were actually in London at that moment in Trafalgar Square. They were just down the road from us. We agree to meet up in a few minutes in front of Big Ben.

Not too much longer and the four of us (John, myself, Katie and her husband Garrath) are wandering back up the street to find ourselves an eatery. We settle on a pub (The Silver Cross) where we get some food and a couple pints (London Pride for me and Hoegaarden for John). Eventually, we split up and we needed to figure out how to get back to Fenchurch Station. Katie and Garrath walked us over to an underground terminal where we caught a ride for a couple of stops. Then came the realization that it boils down to us walking the rest of the way. It was not as far as it looked on the map. We were back at the Hung Drawn and Quartered before we realized it.

John stopped and gawked at one building as we were walking to the station. It had been proudly labeled near the building's entrance as The Corn Exchange. That's when we were asked by some guy if we were lost and needed a place to sleep. We assured him that, no, we were exactly where we thought we were and already had a place for the night. He walked back "with" us to the station the entire time regaling us with tales of his current troubles; He currently owns two homes but has to rent them both out to pay for the mortgages. Thus, leaving him to find shelter for himself each night in hostels. He assured us, even though we really didn't much care, that it was a profitable business arrangement he had. I guess profit is in the eye of the beholder...

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