So, we're in our apartment here in Pimlico. The location is great, with easy walk access to two Underground Stations, both on the Victoria Line, which gives us great access north, south, east and west. Nearby are the essential retailers: grocery, wine, food, cold beer.
We got an Uber cab to here from Kings Cross station on Saturday afternoon, where our Virgin East Coast line train terminated. Again, the Uber experience was great. Opened the App once we were standing at an appropriate car pick up spot, designated the destination, hit the GO button. A couple of minutes later we were in the car and on our way. The ride took about 25 minutes and cost £12.68, probably not much more expensive than the Tube, and certainly way more convenient.
Having done an extensive map recce of this part of London before leaving home, we were locally oriented very quickly and Mary hopped out to the local supermarket around a couple of corners for some essentials while I dealt with a couple of issues back home.
Sunday morning. Great weather. We had a plan (got to have a plan) and the weather was right for it, so straight after our simple home brekky and coffee we headed north, up the street, to Victoria Station. Forty pounds later we had two Oyster cards, each with £15 credit and a refundable £5 deposit. It took a little time to get back into the way of using the Underground but soon we were off, headed for Primrose Hill (change at Euston, get out at Chalk Farm).
Boris Johnson reckons Primrose Hill has the best view of London. It's a pleasant park in an upmarket part of London. And yes, it was a great view in what is a city almost entirely without hills. Not a primrose in sight, though (according to Mary, whom I had to ask, as I wouldn't know a primrose if it bit me on the bum), which is a pity.
Our main plan today was to visit the Camden Market, which is centred on a basin of the same name on the Regent's Canal. This is all north of the Thames. From Primrose Hill it was downhill, as you've probably guessed, to the tow path running along the canal. This tow path, if followed in the correct direction, leads to the Camden Market.
Regent's Canal is a place you can park your narrow boat for up to a week without paying, according to a nearby sign. We saw a narrow boat for sale for £12000, so maybe it's cheaper to go to work in a narrow boat than by car. No congestion charges, either. No rent. Hmmm…
In due course we arrived at the market. Packed, it was. Sunny Sunday. Why not? Shaka Zulu is a restaurant, one of many with a huge variety of ethnic origins.
While the market had numerous attractions of the retail kind, we tired of it within an hour or so, especially as we'd already walked three or four km to get there, including an ascent and descent of the aforementioned formidable Primrose Hill. And especially as we happened upon the Camden Eye, which has nothing whatsoever to do with its London namesake. This slightly less famous Eye is a pub, just near the Camden Town tube station. We settled down for an hour or so with a couple of cold beers and some nourishing bar snacks made mainly of potatoes. Here we planned our next foray into the London heartland.
Weather still good -- Check. Still some energy left -- Check. OK, let's get the tube to Westminster then play it by ear. Westminster tube station exit is right under the towering brow of the Clock Tower, the residence of the world's best known clock, Big Ben.
We emerged from the Underground into bright sunlight and crowds of Americans all of whom were vying with each other to get the perfect picture of the famous timepiece which is useful now only as a tourist drawcard. It bonged ONE just as we were reaching for our sunglasses.
We knew we could walk home easily from there so set off with that in mind, stumbling on some interesting markers of world history as we went, as you do in London. It's been here for 2000 years and seen some truly momentous events in that time, and many of them have been memorialised through plaques, statues, street names and structures. I think this is one of the best things about London, the surprises which appear frequently and unannounced as you stroll around.
Mary's shot of the clock. Note that we assume our camera time (on the date/time stamp) was out a little. Big Ben wouldn't be caught showing the wrong time, I expect.
We strolled across the western front of the Parliament buildings, heading south into the Victoria Tower Gardens, from where we could access the riverside path. The crowds depleted rapidly, thankfully and we were able to find an empty park bench in the gardens and just sit and look, again.
The Burghers of Calais, by Rodin. Yes, the actual statue. In the park.
Memorial to Emily Pankhurst. In the park.
Resuming our plod homeward, we crossed the Lambeth Bridge without, as far as we know, bumping into the archbishop, knowing that we could recross the river further upstream and nearer home using the Vauxhall bridge, which was not named after the not-so-prestigious motor car maker.
Looking downstream from the Lambeth Bridge.
Continuing our stroll upstream on the right bank we speculated that we probably wouldn't be allowed to sneak between the river and the building which is home to SIS (aka MI6). To our surprise and delight, for it shortened the route we had to take, the riverside path continued uninterrupted. We climbed up onto Vauxhall Bridge then Mary took this picture of the building which she says was blown up in a James Bond movie she saw.
Clearly they've done a good job of repairing it. The SIS building. If you look closely you'll see that the Union Flag is being flown at half mast. This was because of the killing a couple of days earlier of parliamentarian Jo Cox.
From there it was an easy stroll to our Pimlico apartment for a well earned rest.
That's me, in shirt sleeves, strolling up our street.
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Monday. Raining. Stayed in bed until about 9:00am. St Paul's Cathedral was on our list and good for a wet day, and a Monday, so that was it. Brollies erect, we hit the street, got wet on the way to the Tube then stayed dry on the underground to St Paul's Station, where we got wet again. Neither of us had previously been inside St Pauls. And there's no photos allowed inside. It was certainly worthwhile even though there were many subtle attempts via the hand-held touch screen audio/video guide to convert us to the Anglican persuasion of the Christian faith. Among the greats justifiably interred here are Lord Nelson and Arthur Wellesley (Duke of Wellington). Winston Churchill is buried elsewhere.
No photos, but several boring movies of rain and scrambling through the Underground. Moving on.
The Museum of London is close to St Paul's so we headed there after emerging from Christopher Wren's masterpiece into the rain again. The entire history of London is revealed here, but our legs and patience gave out after another hour or so and we sought solace firstly in the Lord Raglan (probably you can guess what went on there) and later in the Underground, heading home for a break and a post prandial snooze. By now we were becoming Underground experts and delighted in successfully making the transitions between lines and confidently leaping through just-closing train doors and grabbing the hand rail just as the acceleration kicked in. Must check the alcohol content of those beers.
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Tuesday. Leicester Square, "Theatreland". Being keen on experiencing a West End production, we'd decided back home that on this particular day we'd buy tickets to something for that day. So we knew exactly where to go to buy the tickets, and got there easily in good time only to find a line already, even though we'd arrived just before the ticket office opened. Thirty minutes later we had two tickets to "The Mousetrap" for the 3:00pm performance, also we had somewhat depleted wallets.
So we had several hours to kill. Mary opted to do the National Portrait Gallery while I, being more of a moving picture sort of guy, decided to roam the streets, starting with Trafalgar Square, just around the corner from the NPG.
Movie, one minute. Trafalgar Square epitomises Great Britain, I think.
My wanderings took me also through Picadilly Circus where I improbably was gifted a ripe banana by a young lady in the shadow of the Statue of Eros, although I understand the statue is actually of his brother Anteros. Whatever, my GoPro recorded the event.
The bananas were from Panama. Very nice too.
I easily filled in nearly two hours wandering and chatting in the Picadilly-Trafalgar-Pall Mall area before meeting Mary to find a suitable pub for lunch. This wasn't too hard then off we went to the rather small and secluded St Martin's Theatre which was the main recipient of the money we'd been relieved of earlier, at the ticket office. And "The Mousetrap"? Sorry, sworn to secrecy.
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Kev Long
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The technical stuff:
Our main iPad is connecting to the Internet mainly through a cellular connection provided (prepaid, 3gb for three months for £16) by the UK "Three" network. On high ground and in town environments this connection has so far proven quite good but, as in Australia, some places lack good coverage so no or poor connection. There are quite a few WiFi options available too although not always advertised. Just ask if you're unsure if available. All except two of our accommodation reservations include free WiFi which is of course the preferred method of transferring large amounts of data but I have been posting these blogs and their images sometimes using only a cellular connection either from inside our accommodation or on the roadside.
Mary's iPhone is operating using an Australian SIM card (Optus prepaid) which is roaming while in the UK and gives us the ability to make phone calls (not cheap) and send and receive SMS. It also uses WiFi, can connect directly to the Internet through the local cellular system (expensive), and use a Personal Hot Spot provided by the iPad (essentially free as the iPad connection is prepaid).
Location:Willow Place,London,United Kingdom
Great report Kev, as has been all your previous reports, really enjoyed reading/viewing. Look forward to meeting up on your return home. Jim & Josie
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