Even though I was tired as hell, I barely got any sleep. At 6:00 I finally gave up the fight and took another hot yummy shower during which I discovered why there’s a drain in the light hardwood floors. Since the shower only has a half partition that is pretty flimsy, water tends to seep around the bottom and right to that drain. Still I did a little mopping up before I got dressed and went exploring.
Though a little overcast, the sun was still peaking through the clouds as I left the hotel. The Harlingford, as I mentioned, is part of a building with other hotels. The building is curved in a crescent shape so I just follow it and see where it leads. The hotel is convenient for being close to not just the tube station, but a bunch of university buildings and some office buildings. Once out of the quiet little neighborhood, the noises and rush of the city continue on another busy street. I pass by the British Library and get swept up in the morning rush hour for a moment before I check the time and figure I’d better get back.
I eat breakfast as soon as they start serving then head up to see if the others are awake. They’re starting to stir and while they get ready for the day, I scope out the guidebooks. We’ve decided that today would be shopping day culminating in a trip to Knightsbridge and Harrods department store.
First we travel to Oxford Circus and I can’t help but wonder again why, on a weekday morning, there are so many people shopping. We can’t all be tourists, can we? We window shop along a street that’s jam-packed with stores while Joy looks for the Virgin Megastore that she once visited. We stop off at a place called Top Shop, a store that looks deceptively small until you realize that it’s on several levels of this huge building. The part we enter happens to be the maternity shop. Aletha and I stand back and wonder if Joy knows this as she goes wandering around. Ah, yeah. Now she knows. We all go downstairs to the women’s department.
There seems to be no rhyme or reason to the store’s layout. There are signs for the departments and their locations on the other floors but it all depends on which escalator you take. Shoes have their own floor as does men’s wear. We find our way to accessories where Joy does some shopping before we leave.
All along this street are remnants of Fashion Week, the city’s big event the week before we arrived. We’d already seen the bold headlines of the British newspapers proclaiming that Kate Moss had used coke at one of the parties and there were still displays in windows touting the new fashions.
I spot Marks and Spencer, one of the more famous department stores in London. We go in and note the same multileveled structure as Top Shop. This one is different though because on the lowest level is a full grocery store. That seems weird to me but then I recall that we hadn’t seen any supermarkets anywhere in London so far. There were several small ethnic grocers (mostly Indian or Asian) but nothing like what you’d see in America. Joy told us that they just weren’t to be found in the areas where we were. That also explained why we had yet to see a gas station. We’re just so used to seeing a Publix on every corner and a gas station every 5 feet that it was a little strange not seeing it here. More proof that we were indeed in a foreign country.
I got an odd little thrill at seeing Brits going about their daily business that was separate from the touristy stuff we were doing. Since it was almost lunch time, there were people in their business attire rushing in and scooping up the pre-made salads and sandwiches before rushing out again. I grabbed a bagel and a bottle of water and rejoined the others.
We hit the Virgin store, another place spread on different levels. Joy warns us not to buy any DVDs because they won’t play in American players and then the three of us head our separate ways. I am amazed at the number of DVD box sets there are for American television. I thought that only Americans were addicted to television but that is not the case. The same things you’d see in a local store were in this one including shows like the Sopranos and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Joy had already told us what big fans the Brits were of The Simpsons but seeing a whole display of Simpsons goods was still a shock.
On the fourth floor I found something odd. Well, it’s not like it was the first odd thing I’d seen in England. There were box sets of shows I’d never heard of as well as an old one (The Tomorrow People) that I hadn’t seen in years. Still, seeing those things didn’t prepare me for the little section I stumbled across on the top floor. In one corner, past the big statue of Batman, was a section of adult tapes. I wander over thinking they were like the soft-core stuff that’s behind the little plastic partitions in MediaPlay but no, these were the real thing. Just out in the open, rows of hardcore, pretty amateurish-looking, DVDs. I know I shouldn’t be surprised. Despite all our country’s claims of freedom of expression, we are still considered prudish by European standards. I’ve already noticed a greater comfort with nudity than in America and I know that France will be an even bigger example of this. I shrug it off and go find the others. We get back on the tube and then it’s on to Harrods.
At the door, we shuffle in with the rest of the tourists and devise a game plan. Joy wants to hit the bookstore and Aletha decides to follow her. I, as usual, chose to explore on my own. We’ll meet up later and grab some lunch. Before the words are even out of Joy’s mouth, I’m wandering off to see more of the richly decorated store. I found out later from one of the guidebooks that there is an unspoken dress code for Harrods but since it’s become a must-see sight for tourists, any way you are dressed is fine. Since the locals avoid the place, if you’re in Harrods everyone already knows that you’re a tourist.
Oh boy. How do I even begin to describe this place? Harrods is something like an entire mall compressed into a single store. A single, gigantic store (I only took one picture as I felt it really made me look like a clueless tourist who’d never been in a department store before. So if you want to see the store, go here
http://www.harrods.com/Cultures/en-GB/KnightsbridgeStore/). It is an absolute maze with one department leading to another and another and another. As in Marks and Spencer, there is a grocery store on the lowest level complete with a separate tea shop, a candy shop and a row of small cafes on slightly elevated levels so diners have a view of the shoppers below. Spread over seven floors, there are several restaurants, a book store, the ever-present Starbucks (I swear there must be one of those things built every hour seeing how many there are in this country and in Europe), and numerous other departments.
I try to keep from gaping as I pass through the electronics department, the tapestry department (I’ve always wanted a tapestry but 400 pounds is a little steep), and the furniture department. I just had to take a look at some of the furniture designed by Fendi (my favorite purse designer – I’d already looked at some bags earlier). There was a really great cream colored couch with the traditional Fendi Fs decorating the pillows. I couldn’t imagine having a designer couch (in cream no less) in a house with my kids. Then I saw the price. At 4,000 pounds (roughly $7,500) I didn’t have to ever worry about my kids messing it up. How would they ever get to Harrods?
Somehow, while I was looking for the bookstore, I ended up at the juncture of several escalators. This is where the Princess Diana/Dodi el Fayed memorial is located. Surrounded by all this Egyptian imagery on the walls and faced by a huge golden sphinx, there is a fountain and some shrubbery. In the middle of it is a picture of the couple and some personal articles. I take a quick look and move on.
Moving past the art gallery and the luminous lighting department I wander back to the electronics section (how’d I get here again?) and find that the bookstore is just off of there. I meet up with Joy and Aletha and together we go to the formal restaurant upstairs. Joy wants to have tea there but we’re too early. She’s not feeling well and just wants to eat so we go to the young men’s department. There, we sit at a 50’s style American Dinner for a ridiculously overpriced meal during which we have to dodge the smoke coming from the smoking section. I’m still amazed at the number of people who smoke in this country. There are warning labels on packs of cigarettes just like here but they aren’t even subtle about it like we are. There are no warnings about low-weight babies or increased risk of cancer. The back of a London pack of smokes simply says “SMOKING KILLS”. And still …
It starts raining while we’re eating. Kind of a bummer but considering the fact that we’ve had outstanding weather the rest of the time, we can’t complain too much. We leave Harrods and head back to the hotel. Initially it’s Joy that needs the rest as she immediately goes to take a nap. But it’s apparent that Aletha and I are also suffering the effects too much excitement, miles of walking, and perhaps some jetlag. We settle into the sitting room to read but end up dozing off more than once. We were the only two people in there for most of the time but since we were near the hotel’s front door, every time someone came in there was a lot of noise and some overly cheery British accented greetings. At one point, a group of folks came in and asked Aletha to take some pictures of them. I think they were Brits but visitors to London. The sky clears outside of our windows and after a couple of hours we figure it’s time to get Joy and get some dinner.
Leicester (pronounced Lester) Square is a mecca for tourists and residents alike. It is yet another area devoted to restaurants and movie theaters (and will they please stop taunting me with ice cream? There seems to be a Ben and Jerry’s or Haagen Daas every few feet!). We thought to catch a movie, finally deciding on War of the Worlds, but the show was sold out. It was 7:30 on a Friday night after all. We chose an Italian restaurant for dinner and parked ourselves out front.
While I like being able to people watch, the wind has picked up making me a little uncomfortable (it would have to be the one time I forgot my jacket). Then, I got a wind of what the guys at the table behind me were talking about. Three highly-inebriated buddies were on the patio of the next restaurant loudly and profanely talking about their prowess. A snippet of conversation: “We’re in Beirut and you’re down and about to be captured. I’ve still got a fully loaded Glock. I would shoot you in the head to prevent your torture. That’s the kind of guy I am. That’s why people don’t like me.” Joy and Aletha and I are exchanging looks and hoping to God that this guy isn’t really armed. He was too drunk and there were way too many people around. At one point, one of the men broke a glass and since it was right behind my chair, I jumped about a mile.
Somehow, we got through the meal without being shot (the cute Italian waiter made the experience a little more enjoyable). We hit the same Internet Café that we visited the night before (Picadilly Circus and Covent Garden are all very near Leicester) and then headed back to the hotel. We’re settling down for the night and I’ve turned on the telly. We all perk up as one of the BBC’s new programs is comparing London to Savannah, GA. There is a discussion about America’s class divisions based on race. The fear is that London will soon have ghettos like America because of all of the immigrants from different countries that are migrating to the city. Don’t know if the argument was ever really settled but I do know that we were not happy to hear them talking about our state.
No comments:
Post a Comment