Day 2 – Wednesday, September 21, 2005
One of the first faces we saw after leaving baggage claim belonged to Joy. Boy, was that a relief. She told us how she had tried to track us down by calling the hotel and repeatedly checking with the airport personnel. They couldn’t give out names but they did finally tell her that a plane was landing from Paris with luggage checked in from Atlanta. That was enough to keep her in the airport to continue her wait (thank goodness).
Traveler’s Tip #2: As long as your ATM card has an international symbol like Cirrus, you can put it into an ATM machine anywhere and get the local currency. And British money has shiny silver stripes. Cool.
Money in hand, Joy then leads us to that staple of London travel, the Underground. It runs pretty much like the Marta system here. The station is in the airport and the line we were on made a straight shot to our hotel at the Russell Square station. The Harlingford Hotel
is located just a few blocks away. It is on the end of a long building that houses four other hotels. There’s a park across the street and a bunch of other buildings that I would later discover are part of the University of London.
As Joy checked us in, Aletha and I took in the digs. There is a small dining room to the right of the narrow entryway and a cozy little sitting room on the left with a fire blazing in the small fireplace.
Our room is on the second floor and is, once we get the stubborn door to open, really small. But, no matter. We don’t intend to spend much time there anyway. To its credit there is a nice size bathroom where we quickly adjourn to refresh ourselves.
A word about English facilities. The toilet has a rather large seat but a surprisingly small amount of water in the bowl. When you flush the water comes out in a huge torrent that pretty much wipes the bowl clean before disappearing down the drain. Interesting. The shower, while it takes a few turns of the knobs to turn them on, immediately gets hot. Very different from turning on a faucet in fair Woodstock. By the time the water warms up here, you’ve already finished whatever you were doing. I’ve just gotten accustomed to washing my face and hands with cold water. But the English shower was deliciously hot, just the thing for working out the kinks of being on a plane for several hours. Ahhhhhh.
Once we’d all showered and changed, we made our plans, packed our backpacks (invaluable for carrying money, guidebooks, souvenirs or anything else you’ll need during the course of a long day of sightseeing) and headed back to the tube (that’s the subway for you yanks). On our short walk I continue to take in all the little details that tell you that this is a street in London. The street signs are posted on the buildings instead of poles, the famous black cabs with all their special amenities (and British license plates) are parked on the side of the road, and crossing the street means taking your life in your hands thanks to that whole driving-on-the-wrong-side-of-the-street-thing. Just for the tourists, there are directions painted on the street just off the curb that tell you which way to look. Even with those helpful hints and the pedestrian crosswalks, crossing the street in London is still a dangerous prospect. Aletha and I just follow Joy and hope for the best.
Our first stop: Piccadilly Circus. The other ladies had ordered a special multi-day pass for riding the tube. I had ordered mine online and decided to save the delivery fee and just pick it up at the British Visitor’s Center. For the second time that day I’m stunned when we rise out of the tube station. As you are thrust into the light it seems like the entire city is bustling in front of you. All this activity and so much to see though I can’t help but notice that Piccadilly Circus looks a lot like New York’s Time Square complete with restaurants, traffic (both cars and humans), and huge video screens flashing advertisements. We’d gotten a map and directions to the center from the help desk in the station so we took a moment to get our bearings. Or more like Aletha and Joy got our bearings. I was too busy gawking and taking pictures. Do you think anyone could tell I was a tourist?
We found our way to the Visitor’s Center and while I collected my 3-day tube card, Joy and Aletha wandered around the building. We picked up some info on tourist attractions and asked about the London theatre. I asked about one of the sights I really wanted to see; Stonehenge. Unfortunately, the tours going out there were a bit more expensive than I was willing to pay. Stonehenge is also about 80 miles outside of London. That’s a little too far and we would be in the city such a short time. Well, I’ll just have to hit that the next time I go to London (and oh yes, I will be returning).
We decide to go to one of Aletha’s top choices, the London Eye. But first, lunch. Looking around, the comparison to New York becomes all the more apparent as there are a bunch of American eateries in the area. You can definitely see Britain’s strong connection to their former colonies. Do we want Pizza Hut or McDonalds? We pick Burger King and settle down for a nosh.
Bellies sated, it’s back on the tube and on to the Eye. I had never even heard of this thing before Aletha mentioned it. Turns out it hasn’t been around for long. Joy tells us that it was erected for the new millennium celebration. It was supposed to be torn down later but it became such a tourist draw that the city decided to keep it. I can understand why. Admission is 11.50 pounds a person and the line was full of tourists when we were there. Too big of a cash cow for the city to ever give it up.
As you can see the Eye is something like a big Farris wheel except each pod is large enough to fit several people. The wheel never stops turning which means you have to jump onto the car while an attendant holds the door open. Not as scary as it sounds. The thing moves very slowly – it takes 30 minutes for each car to come back to the ground. Also, they will stop the Eye if necessary so that elderly or impaired passengers can board. There is a bench in the middle of the car and plenty of room to move around and take pictures.
Our car was full of a bunch of people. One woman was a US expatriate who moved to London 4 years ago but was taking her first trip up in the eye at the request of her visiting mother. There was a mixed race couple on board (she was French while her husband was Hindu) with his parents and their child. Another couple was from America; they were on their 3rd or 4th trip to London.
This is one of the few ways that you can see the entire city at the same time. Situated by the Thames, the Eye gives you a good view of Parliament, Big Ben, the business district, Westminster Abbey … the works. We had some beautiful weather and took lots of pictures.
Once our half hour ride was over, we headed to Covent Garden. Another tourist draw, this is an area full of restaurants, shops and street performers drawing crowds. Very busy and way too much to see in the short time we had there. We had to get back to the hotel for a dinner date.
Sophie, one of the regional mangers who reports to Joy, meets us at the hotel and together we all walk to a nearby Italian restaurant. She lives in London so we take the opportunity to pump her for info about sights we should see. But, as is common with a native, she hasn’t done any of the touristy stuff. I tell her about wanting to see Harrods, the famous department store. She says that’s fine – just don’t go to Harvey Nichols. I ask why since that was another store I wanted to visit. She told us how some employee had recently been shot there by an ex-boyfriend. Since I try to avoid getting shot or mugged while on vacation, we re-think the Harvey Nichols idea.
Aletha’s strict diet only allows her to eat simple food like chicken and salad for dinner. She tries to explain that she only wants a piece of grilled chicken but the employees don’t seem to understand. And yet they have grilled entrees on the menu. Okay. The chicken she gets has been breaded and fried and tastes, to Joy, just like KFC which is not exactly a diet food. So much for this restaurant in the future.
Completely exhausted we say goodbye to Sophie and head back to the hotel. We’ve decided that since Aletha tends to make a lot of body heat and I have hot flashes (being a chick is fun isn’t it?), it would probably be best if she and Joy share a bed while I take the single. Otherwise Aletha and I would most likely set the room on fire while, more importantly, not getting any sleep. Sounds like a plan but seeing that the beds are so close together, we were all practically sleeping on top of one another anyway.
While Joy and Aletha read, I discover that British television is just as dull as they say. Five channels, no cable, and most of the programming was either news-oriented shows or documentaries. The TV added to about 5 miles of walking and the effects of jet lag meant that I was out by 10:00.
is located just a few blocks away. It is on the end of a long building that houses four other hotels. There’s a park across the street and a bunch of other buildings that I would later discover are part of the University of London.
As Joy checked us in, Aletha and I took in the digs. There is a small dining room to the right of the narrow entryway and a cozy little sitting room on the left with a fire blazing in the small fireplace. 
Our room is on the second floor and is, once we get the stubborn door to open, really small. But, no matter. We don’t intend to spend much time there anyway. To its credit there is a nice size bathroom where we quickly adjourn to refresh ourselves. 
A word about English facilities. The toilet has a rather large seat but a surprisingly small amount of water in the bowl. When you flush the water comes out in a huge torrent that pretty much wipes the bowl clean before disappearing down the drain. Interesting. The shower, while it takes a few turns of the knobs to turn them on, immediately gets hot. Very different from turning on a faucet in fair Woodstock. By the time the water warms up here, you’ve already finished whatever you were doing. I’ve just gotten accustomed to washing my face and hands with cold water. But the English shower was deliciously hot, just the thing for working out the kinks of being on a plane for several hours. Ahhhhhh.
Once we’d all showered and changed, we made our plans, packed our backpacks (invaluable for carrying money, guidebooks, souvenirs or anything else you’ll need during the course of a long day of sightseeing) and headed back to the tube (that’s the subway for you yanks). On our short walk I continue to take in all the little details that tell you that this is a street in London. The street signs are posted on the buildings instead of poles, the famous black cabs with all their special amenities (and British license plates) are parked on the side of the road, and crossing the street means taking your life in your hands thanks to that whole driving-on-the-wrong-side-of-the-street-thing. Just for the tourists, there are directions painted on the street just off the curb that tell you which way to look. Even with those helpful hints and the pedestrian crosswalks, crossing the street in London is still a dangerous prospect. Aletha and I just follow Joy and hope for the best.
Our first stop: Piccadilly Circus. The other ladies had ordered a special multi-day pass for riding the tube. I had ordered mine online and decided to save the delivery fee and just pick it up at the British Visitor’s Center. For the second time that day I’m stunned when we rise out of the tube station. As you are thrust into the light it seems like the entire city is bustling in front of you. All this activity and so much to see though I can’t help but notice that Piccadilly Circus looks a lot like New York’s Time Square complete with restaurants, traffic (both cars and humans), and huge video screens flashing advertisements. We’d gotten a map and directions to the center from the help desk in the station so we took a moment to get our bearings. Or more like Aletha and Joy got our bearings. I was too busy gawking and taking pictures. Do you think anyone could tell I was a tourist? 
We found our way to the Visitor’s Center and while I collected my 3-day tube card, Joy and Aletha wandered around the building. We picked up some info on tourist attractions and asked about the London theatre. I asked about one of the sights I really wanted to see; Stonehenge. Unfortunately, the tours going out there were a bit more expensive than I was willing to pay. Stonehenge is also about 80 miles outside of London. That’s a little too far and we would be in the city such a short time. Well, I’ll just have to hit that the next time I go to London (and oh yes, I will be returning).
We decide to go to one of Aletha’s top choices, the London Eye. But first, lunch. Looking around, the comparison to New York becomes all the more apparent as there are a bunch of American eateries in the area. You can definitely see Britain’s strong connection to their former colonies. Do we want Pizza Hut or McDonalds? We pick Burger King and settle down for a nosh.
Bellies sated, it’s back on the tube and on to the Eye. I had never even heard of this thing before Aletha mentioned it. Turns out it hasn’t been around for long. Joy tells us that it was erected for the new millennium celebration. It was supposed to be torn down later but it became such a tourist draw that the city decided to keep it. I can understand why. Admission is 11.50 pounds a person and the line was full of tourists when we were there. Too big of a cash cow for the city to ever give it up.
As you can see the Eye is something like a big Farris wheel except each pod is large enough to fit several people. The wheel never stops turning which means you have to jump onto the car while an attendant holds the door open. Not as scary as it sounds. The thing moves very slowly – it takes 30 minutes for each car to come back to the ground. Also, they will stop the Eye if necessary so that elderly or impaired passengers can board. There is a bench in the middle of the car and plenty of room to move around and take pictures.
Our car was full of a bunch of people. One woman was a US expatriate who moved to London 4 years ago but was taking her first trip up in the eye at the request of her visiting mother. There was a mixed race couple on board (she was French while her husband was Hindu) with his parents and their child. Another couple was from America; they were on their 3rd or 4th trip to London.
This is one of the few ways that you can see the entire city at the same time. Situated by the Thames, the Eye gives you a good view of Parliament, Big Ben, the business district, Westminster Abbey … the works. We had some beautiful weather and took lots of pictures.
Once our half hour ride was over, we headed to Covent Garden. Another tourist draw, this is an area full of restaurants, shops and street performers drawing crowds. Very busy and way too much to see in the short time we had there. We had to get back to the hotel for a dinner date.
Sophie, one of the regional mangers who reports to Joy, meets us at the hotel and together we all walk to a nearby Italian restaurant. She lives in London so we take the opportunity to pump her for info about sights we should see. But, as is common with a native, she hasn’t done any of the touristy stuff. I tell her about wanting to see Harrods, the famous department store. She says that’s fine – just don’t go to Harvey Nichols. I ask why since that was another store I wanted to visit. She told us how some employee had recently been shot there by an ex-boyfriend. Since I try to avoid getting shot or mugged while on vacation, we re-think the Harvey Nichols idea.
Aletha’s strict diet only allows her to eat simple food like chicken and salad for dinner. She tries to explain that she only wants a piece of grilled chicken but the employees don’t seem to understand. And yet they have grilled entrees on the menu. Okay. The chicken she gets has been breaded and fried and tastes, to Joy, just like KFC which is not exactly a diet food. So much for this restaurant in the future.
Completely exhausted we say goodbye to Sophie and head back to the hotel. We’ve decided that since Aletha tends to make a lot of body heat and I have hot flashes (being a chick is fun isn’t it?), it would probably be best if she and Joy share a bed while I take the single. Otherwise Aletha and I would most likely set the room on fire while, more importantly, not getting any sleep. Sounds like a plan but seeing that the beds are so close together, we were all practically sleeping on top of one another anyway.
While Joy and Aletha read, I discover that British television is just as dull as they say. Five channels, no cable, and most of the programming was either news-oriented shows or documentaries. The TV added to about 5 miles of walking and the effects of jet lag meant that I was out by 10:00.
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