Gail South
England, London~November, 1995
Tuesday, November 7, 1995
I knew I didn't have much time to be a courier, since Thanksgiving is just two weeks away, so I was happy when New Voyager offered a last-minute trip to London. We confirmed at 11:30 am, with the requirement that I be at Kennedy by 4:30 that afternoon. I had given it some thought, so packing wasn't a problem. Of course, I hadn't done laundry in four days, and my hair was a mess. I hoped to be able to use Port Authority and take the bus from Atlantic City, but I�d never have made the deadline. So I rushed around, watered the plants, ran the dishwasher, returned books to the library, stopped at Rommels, took Spider to Richie's for Tom to pick up on Wed., and was on the road by 1:30.
It was raining, hard, so the trip had some stalls, but I made it to the United small package area on time. Then nothing happened till 5:45, and the flight was to be at 6:35. The representative from Jupiter identified me and led me to first class check-in (leading me to hope for a miracle). No such luck, but we did get checked through quickly, and I boarded as soon as I arrived in the departure lounge. I had a window seat and the plane was full, so it was a typical, squashed, uncomfortable flight.
Wed., Nov. 8
We arrived at Heathrow about 7 AM, and I took off with my folder of "stuff". Building 139 was not quite as easy to find as the United spot had been. I tried to follow the directions I had been given (not my strongest skill) and, a half hour later, succeeded. Nick took the package, and I was on my way. Found the Underground (Tube) easily and purchased a ticket for Gloucester Road. It was rush hour, so the cars were crowded, but it was much better than trying to fight traffic in a car, driving on the right on a "ring road".
I had picked out two possible hostels, both in the South Kensington section and in the $20 per night range. I picked the Curzon House Hotel. At 58 Courtfield Gardens, it is very typical of London town houses, four floors overlooking a lovely church and garden square. Reception is in the basement along with a tiny kitchen and breakfast room and a smoky TV room. I was fortunate to get Room #1, on the first floor. The room has huge high ceilings, once a formal parlor, no doubt. There are four other girls (note that I'm now a "girl" even though I'm at least 30 years older than anyone else) in my room. We have a wash basin, one electric outlet, five twin beds, several dressers, and a gas fire. The toilet is down the hall, and the shower is on the second floor. I dropped off my bag, washed my face, picked up my map and copy of "Walks in Oscar Wilde's London", and left again.
I started with Chelsea, populated by artists, writers, and other bohemians, since it was closest to my hotel, and I wasn't sure how quickly I'd get tired. This may turn out to be a great way to see much more of London (or any other city), sort of "theme walks". By the way, they have such a thing here on a much briefer (say 2-3 hours) basis where people knowledgeable about a subject will plan a walk and lead visitors for a fee: e.g. "In Churchill's Footsteps" "Jack the Ripper's London", or "The Beatles Magical Mystery Tour". Anyway, this walk was through mainly residential sections, where the Prince of Wales (Bertie, not Charles) frolicked with Lillie Langtry and others, and where the famous artists of the Victorian ear lived and worked. Several of them are only names to me, and I'm looking forward to learning more about their work: Millais, Wm. H. Hunt, Augustus John, Wilson, Steer; others are very familiar: Wilde himself, Whistler, John Singer Sargeant, A A Milne (whose house looks as if it were in Pooh Corner), Turner. The "Squares" were particularly interesting, each with its own character. Onslow Square, for instance, is a lovely park surrounded by pristine, white-columned Georgian houses, with a pretty church, one of many St. Paul's, at its head. There were several charming smaller streets, with cottagey houses, all different, yet complimentary.
Cheyne (pronounced "chainy") Walk winds along the Thames and is populated with opulent homes of the once rich and famous. Two very interesting bridges cross the river her: Battersea Bridge, a green and gold painted graceful and slim iron structure, erected in 1890, replacing the wooden one starring in many of Whistler's landscapes, and the marvelous "cat's cradle"- looking peach and aqua Albert suspension bridge. There were also some surprise residents including Mark Twain, Bret Harte, and Bram Stoker.
By this time, I was hungry, so I had a late lunch of fettuccine with cream sauce (L2.75) at The Stockpot and walked home. I stopped at a really nice, modern supermarket and got a liter of water and some cheese for dinner, then returned and rented a towel to take a shower.
Thursday, Nov. 9
Got a wonderful night's sleep. The bed is very comfortable. I was the first to bed (and probably will be all week). The three Australians, Suzanne, Julie, and Michelle, were in fairly early. They all have jobs, but the girl from France, Isabell, apparently comes in rather late every night. She wants to find a job and go to school to learn English. At breakfast, tea and toast, I met Dawn, whose room is on the third floor. She's from Boiling Springs, a Penn State theater major, who's here to add to her resume. She's played at Allenberry and wants to do theater with school kids in the US.
Fortified, I took the tube to Embankment, just south of Charing Cross. I walked through the Victoria Embankment Gardens there, along side the Thames. Lots of statues and topiaries honoring all sorts, including the founder of Sunday School (I never knew there was such a person) and the famous Cleopatra's Needle, guarded by two Sphinxes. This walk was billed as "the heart of London's performing arts world". It lived up to its reputation. The area called the Adelphi in the book was a disappointment, since it no longer exists, replaced by huge office buildings (not tall, just big) on the rear steps of which homeless now reside.
l made my way up to the Strand and took a photo of the famous restaurant, Simpson's, where Jerry and I ate many, many years ago. This area was the home of Kipling, Barrie, Galsworthy, David Garrick, Hardy and Shaw, among others. I admired the Savoys (theater and hotel), the Adelphi (where I thought about tickets to Sunset Boulevard), the Lyceum and others before turning into Covent Garden and its many closed-off streets of markets of all descriptions. The only thing I bought was a fresh orange juice, but it tasted great. Yet another St. Paul's is at one of the entrances. It was selling Christmas cards. I passed the Royal Opera House and the Bow Street Police Court, where Wilde was incarcerated following his arrest on charges of homosexuality, only way to Drury Lane, home of the impressive Theatre Royal. Then on to Leicester Square to buy a ticket to the matinee of Les Misearables, of which more later, at the London Hippodrome. I passed through interesting alleyways, including Cecil Court, a pedestrian-only shopping street for old books, prints, maps and lots of theatre memorabilia. It was about 11:30, and the show was at 2:30, so I walked around to American Express and cashed a Travelers Check, then to the National Museum, were I rested and regrouped (and used the facilities), but didn't go into any exhibits. I ate my two apples on the front porch, overlooking Trafalgar Square, Nelson's Column, Big Ben, and St. Martins in the Fields.
I still had lots of time, so I walked up to Cambridge Circus where the Palace Theatre is. As the book says, "The terra cotta facade and gilt and marble interior, built in 1888, has been restored to its former grandeur by its new owner, composer Andrew Lloyd Weber". It is very impressive. I was getting excited about the show. I headed north towards Bloomsbury through lots of interesting streets filled with sidewalk stands and stores selling used clothing, costumes and exotica, and came to a small traffic circle called Seven Dials because it is the confluence of seven streets, very picturesque. The across High Holborn into the "heart of intellectual London". I really just viewed the edges, and hope to return before I leaver. Cardinal John Henry Newman lived here, at 17 Southampton Place. He was a childhood friend of Benjamin Disraeli, around the corner, although the famous politician's house is marked by a plaque inscribed: "Isaac Disraeli, author, lived here: born 1766, died 1848".
Then it was time to head back, stopping at Waterstone's book store (where they had not one but two books on the Compostello de St. Iago. I resisted, but got the address for future reference). My seat was in the very top balcony, but as soon as the show started, I moved to the first row (of the same, very top balcony), and had a beautiful view. It was possible the best show I've ever seen. The staging was magnificent. All done on a revolving stage. When Jean Valjean was chased through the sewers of Paris, you could "see" the water moving under the grates. The voices was splendid and the acoustics astounding. Even Jerry could have understood every word. I sat next to a very interesting Canadian officer on leave from duty as Operations Manager for the UN operations in Zagreb.
After the show, I walked to Piccadilly Circus and people-watched amidst the bright lights and traffic, then took the very crowded tube home. Had a pizza at a neighborhood spot and came home. Took a shower (I like the 3rd floor one better than the 2nd floor) and will go to bed soon.
Friday, Nov. 10
Another good night's sleep. Breakfast and then began the Kensington Walk, mainly beautiful big homes, lots of consulates, Kensington Palace, and much busy traffic and purple-haired youth along the main thoroughfare, Kensington High Street. Walked a serpentine path in and out of the side streets between Queen's Gate and Kensington Church Street to view the town houses of various literati, entertained by accounts of their various affairs and counter affairs from the book. One domicile that wasn't mentioned was that of John Stuart Mill, #18 Kensington St.
St. Mary's Abbots Church, where Whistler was married, was open, so I stopped and listened to a flute/piano rehearsal. It's been the site of Christian worship for 1000 years. This building is a bit over 100 years old, but it is dark and dingy.. When I think about the wonderful work being done to restore Spanish churches, this is a real disappointment. Walking north, I came to Kensington Palace, which the book in 1992 lists as the London home of the Prince and Princess of Wales and Princess Margaret. It's being restored, and is only open occasionally, so I'm not sure if I'll see the inside. The gardens were, as all I've seen so far, filled with people walking their dogs, here and there the occasional jogger, but no skateboarders or rollerbladers at all.
Then winding through more of Kensington and more beautiful town homes, ending at Leighton House, open to the public (free), residence of Lord Frederick Leighton, noted Victorian painter and sculptor. It was very interesting, with its Arab Hall and visions of the Orient. It also had paintings by some of the artists I've been anxious to see, including Leighton himself and Millais. These Victorian paintings are disappointing, obvious sellouts by artists eager for fortune and fleeting fame. Its hard to believe that, except for Turner and perhaps Whistler, they were working at the same time that the Impressionists were shocking Paris.
Walked back, stopping at the supermarket and lunched on sweet peppers and Brie/blue cheese at the hotel. The afternoon walk, through Belgravia and Knightsbridge, was very confusing in several ways. It started as the others had, with interesting, if confusing squares, each surrounded by stately rows of imposing homes. Then Belgravia, tangled streets of seemingly identical, vanilla colored town houses, many, many embassies and consulates, but no people or cars. It was mid-afternoon and deserted. Suddenly I was at Knightsbridge. It was Fifth Avenue at Christmas: Burberrys, Harrods, all decorated with sparkling lights and people jostling along the sidewalks. If my legs weren't so tired, I might have shopped, but I wanted to put my feet up for an hour before the Jack the Ripper walk. Didn�t think I could do it, but I did. Took the tube to Tower Hill Station, with a fantastic view of the Tower Complex, slight fog, almost full moon, just the right ambience. Unfortunately, about 880 people decided to share it. However, I was alone and could work my way to the front. The guide was very good. He knew a lot and imparted it in a most interesting fashion. He told us in gory details about the five murders and the various theories about "who done it"? The tour lasted about two hours, including a 15-minuted stop at a pub, Ten Bells, where a pint cost L2. Got the tube home and stopped for a baked potato stuffed with chicken curry. Now a shower and to bed!
Saturday, November 11
It's Veterans Day and the Lord Mayors Show, "the most popular and spectacular event in the City of London's ceremonial calendar". It is the public's welcome to the new Lord Mayor. The procession proudly represents City businesses, Livery Companies and charities, alongside regiments and bands of the armed forces, the City police, and representatives of the Corporation of London. Well, I couldn't miss that, so I boarded the tube for Blackfriars and walked north to the corner of Fleet St. (no mad barbers to be found) and Ludgate. Shortly after finding a good spot toward the front of the crowd, I discovered that my passport was missing from my back pocket. There would have been no point in trying to get through thousands of bustling people, so I relaxed and enjoyed the parade. It lasted almost an hour and a quarter (one-way), and then I was able to find a bobby who told me to go to Old Bailey. One the way, I reached behind me and found my passport, nestled snugly in the back of my sweater. Now it's zipped into the infamous purple bag.
Admission to St. Paul's was reduced from L3 to L1, which was pleasant surprise. I'd forgotten how beautiful the mosaic ceilings were and also how very secular the church is. Almost all the statues, plaques and other memorials in the church honor military heroes, and in the crypt below are buried more soldiers (also heroes of the Royal Academy of Painting and Sculpture, one of whom was Benjamin West, born in Springfield, Chester County, Pennsylvania, USA). I guess I'm used to the saints and Popes of Spain, France and Italy, but the emphasis did seem strange. I suppose in the US it would be Carnegie, Rockefeller, and Vanderbilt. Then I had a hot dog (long, but tasteless) at the Fayre in Paternoster Square and tried to walk to the Leadenhall Market, which the brochure said would be open. It took a while, because now the parade was returning, and I was on the wrong side of the street. I finally found a way through the Underground, but when I arrived, the Market was closed.
A quick look at the map revealed that I was close to the "Jubilee Walkway" so I decided to follow it across London Bridge to the Southwark Cathedral. I was just in time to hear the choir rehearsing, which was a real treat, the acoustics were wonderful. I walked west along the Thames, passing, at the end on an eerie alleyway, the remains of Winchester Palace, built by and for the Bishops of Winchester about 1100 and home to a prison named "the Clink". Continued along the walkway along the Thames and stopped at a rather tame pub for a sandwich, really to have a good view of the fireworks, scheduled for 5 PM. About 4:30, I watched the fireworks barge pass by and disappear from view. It had been raining for about an hour, so I had made a good choice, but I did venture out and found a spot on Blackfriars Bridge to watch. Good show for about 10 minutes, but couldn't compare to Beach Haven or Galeton. Took the tube home and had a quiet evening by the gas fire.
Sunday, November 12, Remembrance Day
I walked quite a lot today, and my legs are very tired. Walk #2 (St. James) and #3 (Mayfair) and #4 (Marlebone) leave only Bloomsbury in the Wilde book. Started right after breakfast, leaving my "roomies" soundly asleep, on the tube to Piccadilly, right where I'd left it after Les Miz. I was disappointed that all of the famous men's shops were closed; they displayed some wonderful wares. Lots of galleries also looked interesting. I'd like to spend some weekday time here, especially with all the holiday decorations about. I walked down to St. James Palace, then up Pall Mall to St. James Square, which today was full of film crews and their vehicles. The residence of Waldorf Astor was there, but the plaque only noted his wife's name. Nancy Astor was an American who was the first woman elected to Parliament when her husband inherited his peerage. There was another interesting plaque at #12, "Ada, Countess of Lovelace (1815-1852), Pioneer of Computing, lived here"??? Finally, on the corner, was Norfolk House, Eisenhower's headquarters in 1940.
I was thinking about WWII as I passed into Carleton Gardens, and just noticed a statue of De Gaulle, when a cannon boomed. I checked my watch--it was 11 o'clock, and I was standing in front of his headquarters with message, ending "Vive La France" on the front. What a coincidence. Two minutes later, the cannon boomed again and I walked down the street, past the Duke of York Memorial and onto the Mall. There were lots of strollers, but the wide Mall itself, which is supposed to be open to pedestrians on Sunday, was blocked off and patrolled by the police. I wondered if there was to be another r parade. I walked down toward Buckingham Palace and stopped in front of the Victoria Memorial. Just then, some limos approached and the crowd�s anticipation was palpable. It was the Queen and Prince Philip, not 50 feet from me, passing slowly. Then came another and a third carrying Princess Anne. What a surprise! I guess they had been at church somewhere.
Mayfair is a fashionable district bounded by Regent Street, Oxford Street, Park Lane, and Piccadilly. Bond Street is another famous shopping street, as exclusive today as it must have been at the turn of the century. One of the stores is Asprey's, very luxurious. Outside was a life sized statue of Roosevelt and Churchill on a park bench. My camera was screwed up so I couldn't get a photo. Stopped in at St. Georges Church in Hanover Square to rest a bit. It's quite pretty, a bit brighter than most. Down Grosvener Street to Grovsener Square where the US Embassy is. I had an apple in the park. Then down Carlos Place to Mount Street, very pretty and elegant. Just across from the famous Connaught Hotel was a little passageway which I thought went to another church. It turned out to be St. Georges Gardens, surrounded by the Mount Street Mansions, a grand development of old Victorian buildings. The benches along its paths are inscribed with the names of donors from all over the world who have enjoyed respite from the city noise in this enchanting unexpected spot.
Then I walked north on South Street and down Chesterfield Gardens to Shepherd Market. I was surprised to find this lively warren of shops and pubs open, so I stopped for Shepherds Pie at Shepherds Inn. It was fun. There were three elderly gentlemen at the bar all impeccably turned out, including red poppies in their lapels. While I ate, I listened to them reminisce about World War II and their exploits in it. Down Cruzon St., home to more of the rich and famous to Park Lane, home of luxury hotels. I passed Hyde Park Corner and arrived at Marble Arch, although I didn't take time to go listen at Speakers Corner, but instead entered the residential district of Marylebone. I wound my way around the area, referring to the book, then spent some time on Oxford Street, including a stop at a camera shop to fix that problem. If Knightsbridge was Fifth Ave., this was 34th St., everything open and everyone getting an early start on their holiday shopping. Caught the tube at Oxford Circus and came home, stopping to pick up a Sunday Times to read in front of my fire while I rest my feet.
Monday, Nov. 13
Off to tour Bloomsbury, the heart of intellectual London, with both the British Museum/National Library and London University, and home to the Bloomsbury Group in the early years of this century. I fell in love with the British Museum. What an incredible collection of the works of man. Not an "art gallery", the Museum and Library display the history of humankind in all its glory and folly. The museum was full of school groups, which some found annoying. But what a fantastic classroom. I wish Meagan could see it. While kids in the US are making paper turkeys and Pilgrims, these youngsters are studying Greece and Rome, Egypt, and England with real study aids. They all have clipboards with assignments to write, sketch and find various clues. Anyway, I started with a special exhibit called Westminster Kings which centers around Westminster in the 14th century. I'm sure I learned a lot more than I would have at the site itself. The story went up until the great fire of 1834 and included some fascinating paintings done right there. Then I went back in time to the Greeks, Romans and Assyrians, with the Nereid Tomb (390-380 BC), the Elgin Marbles (Parthenon Sculptures), and the actual Rosetta Stone. Huge statues of Pharaohs, their families and others were everywhere.
The National Library is equally unbelievable. Right there in front of you is the Magna Carta, a Gutenberg Bible, the original score from Handle's Messiah, Shakespeare's plays, and, in a room off to the side, beautifully illuminated manuscripts from as early as 800. I had vowed not to buy anything on this trip, but I did get a matted copy of one of the Bedford House pieces. It's wonderful. I stayed in that room a long item. Then I went up to see the Lindow Man, who was found in a peat bog, and whose face and head are displayed as a holograph. I took an interesting tour of European artifacts from the early medieval period to the 19th century. History of the world in four hours.
This was also the first semi-sunny day since I've been here, and I spent half of it indoors. Leaving the museum I continued north and was rather unimpressed. Lots of typical students and student haunts, but the fresh air was invigorating. Turned left on Drummond, which had been recommended for its Indian restaurants. I broke down and had the house specialty (4 different curries, dal soup and a sweet called puris with a pint for L8.86-$14.75) at Ravi Shankar Bhel Poori House. Then I took the long walk back to Bond St. to look at all the fancy stores which had been closed yesterday. Meandered up Grafton St. and took the shot of Roosevelt and Churchill I missed yesterday. Then off Piccadilly briefly on St James to Jermyn, through the glittering Piccadilly Arcade and the longer Burlington Arcade, then up to Piccadilly Circus and home to Gloucester Rd.
Tuesday, Nov. 14
My only mission on this, my last day, was to find an excellent, reasonable restaurant to have a good meal before facing the ride home. And I succeeded. I walked around Earl's Court, South Kensington and Chelsea under a bright blue sky. Stopped at a Pottery Barn and saw a one pound package of Oreos on sale for L4.8 ($8)!--a potential money maker. This is a very pleasant part of London, with quiet, elegant residential neighborhoods. The best are squares, courts, gardens, circles, mews, or crescents alternating with busy commercial streets. On Herrington Rod., I found K Lans of Kensington. I was the only diner in this oasis of calm. The decor was beautiful, with washed watercolor scenes of India painted on wall dividers. Soft and lovely music played in the background. I had the Pandora mix, which was grilled and tendril baked chicken, shrimp, lamb chops and ground lamb with grilled vegetables and Pashweri Nan (unleavened bread with almonds and raisins) Perfecto!!
Went back to my hotel, collected my belongings, returned the key and towel and boarded the Piccadilly line for Heathrow for my 4:55 PM flight to NYC. I arrived at the airport about 2:30 and, as directed, in letter and confirmation pone call, sat by the revolving doors at United station F. At 4:15, when no one had appeared, I approached the destination gate and was told that the flight was, and had been for several months, 5:55 and I should return to my seat and wait. At 5:15, I again approached the ticket counter and was told that the Jupiter courier had come and gone and that the flight was closed. United would call Jupiter and perhaps get me on a flight tomorrow! They had called about a passenger "Sous" and were told to transfer that ticket to a Mr. Thorne. Thanks to a lot of work from UA and Joan of United and Kumar Jupiter, I was able to be "run through" literally Heathrow and got aboard the flight just before it took off. The flight was uncrowded and I had two full seats to myself. The movie was Apollo 13, the first in-flight I've ever enjoyed and we landed at 8:45. I retrieved the car without incident and was home by midnight. In spite of the fact that this was 5 AM British time, I wasn't tired and unpacked and did laundry before retiring at 1:30.