London Calling

Book of the Week: see previous post.

This post should really have preceded the previous one, but I hadn’t got round to writing it before I got the news that made me so glad and relieved. It’s just cascading happiness around here just now – getting news like that just makes everything pale in significance, and nothing and no one, no matter how annoying or incompetent, can get you down.

Dad being OK really capped off a great weekend – Gareth and I just returned from our second wonderful one on Sunday night. Apart from being really put out by his insisting on holding the handrails on stairs and escalators (all those germs!!!!!!!), it was a great three days.

Took a half day on Thursday and caught the 3pm train to Kings Cross – unfortunately, our seats were on the wrong side of the train so we couldn’t watch the coast go by, but we had fun fiddling about with the videocam and eating Mini-Eggs. One stuck-up auntie kept looking at us – probably jealous that she had to squeeze her biggish arse next to someone else and was facing backwards, whereas we had an entire table to ourselves. But alas, we had to give up our cushy seats at York when almost an entire trainload piled on after their train was cancelled. Ah well. It was good while it lasted!

Kings Cross was less grotty than I remembered it – the last time I was there was 2006 when the folks came over – probably due to the lack of boards and works going on. Our hotel, the Jesmond Dene, was just two minutes away across Euston Road on Argyle Street. Very cosy, warm and welcoming Georgian townhouse – bedroom a bit small (double bed was a foot short, I’m sure of it) and no en-suite but came with breakfast. Everything excellent value and clean showers (extremely important when you’ve forgotten your flip-flops). Certainly recommend it.

Went back out and checked out St Pancras – it really is an amazing building. The neo-Gothic façade is just spectacularly overwrought and the inside has this lovely airy spaciousness. Think we both went a bit mental when we saw there was a Neuhaus store there as well… but we were very good and refrained from stuffing our faces. Found a wee Japanese restaurant, Mai Sushi, by accident – while Gareth got his bottle of water at WH Smith, I sneaked a peek at the Time Out London and found Swizz Szechuan on Chalton Street, which really appealed to me. However, when we got there, it was quite packed and the menu didn’t look all that appetizing – but there was Mai Sushi across the street. Went back through Kings Cross and became the proud owners of an Oyster card each.

We hit the London Eye first thing on Friday and although London at our feet was a visual feast, it made me feel a bit sad that I hadn’t experienced it sooner. I just felt like it was… meh. Another tourist attraction. Ditto the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben. I was so overwhelmed when I saw them for the first time in 1996 – on Friday, it was just… Huh. OK. Houses of Parliament. Like I’ve said before – travel doesn’t seem to excite me any more. I wonder if I can get therapy for this, do mental exercises to get myself psyched up about places and sights and adventures again. We then walked down the Victoria Embankment to Charing Cross, where I had hoped to surprise Gareth with Davenport’s magic shop, but dang it, he’d been there before. So we hopped on the tube at Embankment to the Natural History Museum.

Now the NHM is a place I’ve always wanted to visit. Well, at least I did until all this enthusiasm drained out of me a few years ago. If I’d visited even just five years ago, I would have gone absolutely bonkers. Wow! Wow! Cool! I love it! OH MY GOD! Oooh… (mental orgasm there). As it was on Friday, it was more, hmmm yeah, nice. I would have been photographing everything, from the diplodocus in the entrance hall to the stuffed hummingbirds, and worrying if there was enough time to take it all in. But it just wasn’t awe-inspiring enough, through no fault of its own (and I greatly fear nothing will be any more for me). But there was no time to worry; it was getting on for lunch, which was horribly expensive at the NHM, and such small portions – but we made up for it that night when we went back to Mai (Japanese food is turning out to be a standard highlight of our trips these days).

We started our NHM tour proper post-lunch with the Earth Galleries. I loved the fossils, especially the ones of the plesiosaurs and the dolphin-like ichthyosaurs. The cast of the archaeopteryx found in Germany got my heart racing too – such a famous fossil. And the giant crocodile skull was amazing. As big as I am tall! Checked out the Creepy-Crawlies and mammals before going for tea (another regular feature of our trips), then nipped in early into the Wildlife Photographer of the Year exhibition. Really enjoyed that. Some astounding images. Made me very jealous. Also went in early to the Darwin exhibition, which celebrated the 200th year of his birth. It was surprisingly entertaining and informative – the “mouth on legs” frog was funny. Both well worth the entrance tickets for the amount we learnt. (Didn’t know it was finches that got Darwin thinking about evolution.) Went back to Victoria Embankment afterwards, primarily for me to take shots of the London Eye at night, then went back to the hotel. Very sore feet.

The next morning, we found ourselves stuck at Kings Cross – Saturday at 9.30am is SO not a good time – when we discovered our Oyster credit had all but been spent getting around. So we waited in line to top it up – the queues were unbelievable. When we finally got past them, the first place we zoomed off to was the British Museum – site of my first mental orgasm. As usual, it didn’t do anything for me. Nothing does any more. As I told Gareth, I think I need a kid to get myself excited about these things again. See the world through the eyes of a child, and enjoying introducing its wonders. Perhaps that is one way to be refreshed. (No, that is NOT a hint.) Just that you know you’re getting blasé and jaded when you go to the bloody British Museum, and you aren’t instantly filled with this uncontrollable urge to tear around and see the looted wonders of the ancient world in all their magnificence. One of the world’s greatest museums, one of the richest repositories of archaeological treasures, and all I could think of was, gee, my feet are sore, and oooh is that a raspberry tart? That was just so depressing, and such a contrast to the first time I was there, when I hardly saw anything for all the swooning – this time I didn’t see anything at all for the nonchalance.

Anyway, we dumped our bags at the museum (because we’re clever that way – didn’t want to lug them around London, and the lockers were free as well) and went to St Paul’s. Didn’t see anything of it – just walked around the gardens looking for directions to get to the Millennium Footbridge to the Tate Modern. Quite disappointed that it didn’t sway. Would have been quite an experience. The Tate Modern – can’t really comment on it as we only really saw the giant spider sculpture (which left me quite revolted after I saw the handball-sized white foam “eggs” under its body) before heading to Southwark Cathedral. I really enjoyed this bit of the day – didn’t really know about the cathedral before this nor read nor remembered much of what I’d read previously in Lonely Planet. It felt very much like other cathedrals, in the way of vaulted ceilings and arches, but what made it special was the choir singing in the back the whole time we were there. The acoustics were just superb – when I went round back I counted only 18 of them, but how the sound carried! Absolutely angelic harmony as well.

The Borough Market right next to the cathedral was another find. Couldn’t help thinking how much Mum would enjoy this place – must bring her here when they visit. The sights and smells were quite something – I really loved the buzz! Made me wish I had lots of money to spend – the place gave me a serious case of greedy eyes. Oysters on the shell, with a twist of lemon and Tabasco; fresh fruit smoothies; all manner of cold meats and cheeses; sweets and pastries (felt a bit like the Egyptian spice market in Istanbul – all those free Turkish delights); tons of fish and vegetables (one stall was dedicated to just mushrooms – mmmm!); and that huge black steaming wok of paella! It left me feeling extremely hungry and wishing I had four stomachs. Then headed back to the British Museum, where we had some nibblies and tea, collected our bags and hopped on a Chiltern Railways train to Beaconsfield, where Chris picked us up – it was Shelley’s birthday and the food was great (first time we had meatloaf) but the house was even better. To be £200,000 in debt over an enormous four-bedroom house with front and back gardens in the very middle English commuter belt is not a bad financial situation to be in.

On Sunday we came back up after lunch at the Crown in Amersham, and once again, were on the wrong side of the train (bah!) and had the table to ourselves most of the journey. A very perasan guy who got on at York kept placing a sheaf of papers rather strategically on the table, in all likelihood trying to show that he had made it as a contestant onto “A Question of Genius”. Didn’t have to feign disinterest. Got beef curry in a tin from M&S and was very impressed when I had it with pasta – it tasted just like Yeo’s back home. Called home, said a little prayer for Dad with Gareth, had a fitful sleep – then woke up to the good news.

The other nice thing to happen on Monday was that I interviewed Stuart MacBride, who not only seems like a very genial sort of chap, but a very humorous one as well. Made me want to head to the nearest Waterstone’s and get a copy of his latest book. Doesn’t seem to take himself too seriously – I liked that he bothered to explain why he calls himself a “write-ist” as opposed to a writer, author or novelist. Too worthy, too intellectual, sounds like they know what they’re doing. Write-ist sounds like someone who is winging it and will be found out. I feel like that at work sometimes. Maybe I should start calling myself a report-ist.

On Friday, we are off to Mallaig for Wonderful Weekend Number Three on the top-rated train journey in the world (beating even the almighty Trans-Siberian and the Cuzco-Puno and Cuzco-Macchu Picchu lines). Will keep all cameras rolling.

Factoids of the Week:
The London Underground is the world’s oldest underground railway, and Baker Street is the world’s first tube station. It was also the first underground railway to operate electric trains.

The Underground runs on 400km of track and has 270 stations, and is the longest metro system in the world by route length.

The Angel station has the longest single escalator rise in western Europe.

The longest distance between two stations is 6.26km, between Chalfont & Latimer and Chesham on the Metropolitan line. The longest distance between two underground stations is between Caledonian Road and Kings Cross St Pancras on the Piccadilly line.

The shortest distance between two stations is 100m, between Charing Cross and Embankment. (We know, we walked it!)

Waterloo is the station with the most escalators – currently 25.