Mind the Gap

I suppose I may as well start at the beginning. It feels so long ago. The beginning of our week long trek to London… We got off to a great start; Olof and I caught our flights to Stansted Airport without a hitch. We tolerated Ryanair’s (the famous European airline with seat-sales for ridiculously low prices, it’s cheaper than taking the bus) minimal legroom for a couple of hours before arriving in England where we were finally able to lie down at midnight to relax on the floor of the airport! I spent the night with stomach cramps and a sore back, pleasantries which helped me forget the noise of the cleaning machine as it droned past our sleeping quarters.

We caught the (not-so-)Easybus into London (when it finally came) the next morning and rocked out at the London Beatles Shop before snooping out the Sherlock Holmes Museum. My first impression of London was quite good. There are many nice parks.

  After checking into our hostel (which cost a mere 56 pounds for five nights!), we hopped on the tube in search of London’s main attractions.
St. Paul’s Cathedral was the first stop; a towering structure of awe-inspiring masonry on the outside, and an ornate sanctuary on the inside. Upon climbing hundreds of stairs to the top of the dome, we were rewarded with a panoramic view of the city.

I’m not certain that I can portray all that this story is worth, but I offered to take a picture for three Japanese girls at the top of the cathedral and they went absolutely crazy! They sounded like a chorus of at least 20 or 30 girls sweetly chanting (?) “thank-you you so much, awe… thank-you!”  This recurred another two times in exactly the same way as I took pictures with second and third cameras. I guess you had to be there, but it was absolutely hilarious; I could hear Olof laughing as he hid around the corner.

We meandered through the streets and then crossed the “Wibbly-wobbly” Bridge (named as such with respect to the grand opening when the bridge “wibbled” and (you guessed it) wobbled under the weight of hundreds of stampeding Englishmen. On the other side of the Thames, we toured the Globe Theatre and then made our way back across the water via the ever-famous London Tower Bridge.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Olof and I decided on London for four reasons. Flights were incredibly cheap, Olof’s brother is working there, I wanted to meet Mom’s friends, the Jacksons, and flights were incredibly cheap.
We met up with Nils (no, not my brother, Olof’s brother) that evening and had a good time.

Upon arriving in London, we each purchased a London Pass which admitted us into most of London’s main attractions. We were anxious to get our money’s worth, so we found ourselves running around the city via the tube, the bus and the sidewalk for hours on end. We made a visit to the Tower of London and the Crown Jewels before taking the boat down the river towards Chelsea FC Stadium- to find out that the last tour of the day had already left. We further explored the city that night, along with Nils, taking in some of China town and the Green Park area.

 

The following day, we made Chelsea a priority and headed there first thing in the morning, ascending the Wellington Arch and checking out Royal Albert Hall en route. It was a nice stadium, but what stood out most was the contrast between the away and home dressing rooms. According to the guide, this particularity has made at least some contribution to the team’s impressive success. While Chelsea enjoys a flat-screen TV and fancy lockers, the opponents have to squeeze into the corner of the room to see the drawing board- which also happens to be right behind the door- which in fact has to remain open at all times for fire safety reasons…

This was the last day that we could use our passes, so in the afternoon, after having seen most of what we wanted to see, we stood outside the most expensive attraction and sold our passes for twenty pounds to a couple of fellow tourists. They got in cheap, we got some of our money back, everybody’s happy!

That evening, we asked Nils’ boss at the hotel about a good place to eat fish and chips. A quick trip in the tube, and we were sitting down at the Shakespeare, waiting for London’s best.
And now, if I can give a small piece of advice. Never read a restaurant review online when you’ve already ordered your food! The comments we`re so negative I was almost convinced they were written by high school students studying Hamlet!
”Do you get a free pair of wellies with every pint? Because you need them to use the Gent’s.”
”… yet another soulless pub…”
”Malaria appears to be growing in the toilets.”
”A truly horrendous pub on every level.”
”Avoid this place like the plague. No, really do.”
”The food will probably kill you.”
In the end, the food didn’t kill me (although I haven’t heard from Nils since we left London") but I did decide against visiting the men’s room.

Another promenade brought us through Trafalgar Square and Covent Garden. Here we witnessed a street performer juggling a running chainsaw with his pants off (not without a painstakingly long build-up in which there was nothing worth seeing). Typical English…

With the expiry of our London Pass, it was time to seek out London’s free attractions. We made our way to the National Gallery where we toured the numerous halls at an increasingly brisk pace (there was lots of fine art but there was lots…).

Oxford Street-Primark-British Museum-Harrod’s-Regent’s Park-Tate Modern-Natural History Museum-De Hems-The Monument-Changing of the Guards… We saw it all. The museums and galleries were enormous and we could have spent the entire day in any one of them (if we had enough mental stamina).
As I said to a fellow spectator at the Changing of the Guards, “Well, we can say we’ve been here, but that’s about all.” The crowd was far bigger than I expected, and, standing at the very back, all we could see was Buckingham Palace and the black “hats” of the guards.
We didn’t make any purchases at Harrod’s, but we did see a 275 000 pound watch and some New Zealand beef for 198 pounds to the kilo!

As little time as we spent at the hostel, we had some good conversations with the Italian and the Spaniards who were rooming with us. The former was there looking for work but he repeatedly told me how much he wanted to go to Vancouver. He said this almost as many times as he mentioned the scenic beauty of Italy (although he also expressed a passionate dislike of Italian culture).

It was great to meet people in London. We spent our last evening in England with Dei Jackson and her husband Daniel. We were a little late meeting them. We discovered that the tube is not always as straight forward as we first thought. At busy times, it is busy! We had to wait for the third train to finally get on. Then, just outside the entrance to King’s Cross, Olof’s 150 Euro contact lens fell out on the sidewalk. Surprisingly, from amid a city of 10 million corporate-minded, tourist-ignoring inhabitants, there happened to be a very kind, eagle-eyed lady walking by who bent down and picked up Olof’s lens! I still can’t believe she found it. Was Olof ever happy!

We had a great time with Dei and Daniel at a quiet old English pub around the corner from the British Library where Dei works. We shared updates and talked about numerous different things. It was a very nice evening and it was nice to sit down and relax for more than five minutes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                   Invading London aboard the HMS Belfast.

Scheduled for the next morning was another trip on the not-so-Easybus. We eventually found the pickup point (which was not at all where the map said it would be) only to discover that there were about three times as many people as seats. To the train we went; it turned out to be five pence cheaper and a lot easier!
At the airport I decided I may as well get rid of the seven pounds I had left, so I bought some Double Deckers, Twirls and Wispies to satisfy my craving for chocolate. I also purchased a five pound, European adapter for the four pound, English cell-phone that I bought during the trip. Yes! Four pounds!
As good as the chocolate was, my small shopping excursion nearly gave Olof a heart-attack and I think it likely taught him some new English words (he’s Dutch if I haven’t mentioned that yet); I came back to the place we’d been sitting only to find that Olof and our bags had disappeared! I looked around for a bit and when I finally found him (looking for me), he was in an obvious panic.
”The gate closes in five minutes!!!”
We made it. And I’m not sure what the deal was but it seemed we could have waited another 20 minutes to get on. Olof did show me after, however, on our Dutch boarding passes, that the gate closed at the time which he had thought. Anyways, although Olof almost breathed his last breath, we made it back to Oslo- where the story didn’t end!
I had arranged a ride with a friend from the airport back to the school, but the day before our return, her car had been broken into, so she had e-mailed me to say that she might not be able to come. The plan was that she would text either me or Olof. But as Murphy would have it, Olof’s phone died, and mine decided not to work in Norway (it works now)! I used the payphone to call her but I got the answering machine (she later told me that her phone had also died!). So we sat in Oslo for a while wondering whether we should wait or take the train. Fortunately, she showed up! The first thing they said (she had another friend with her as well) was that on the way to pick us up, their skis had fallen off the roof of their car! We got on our way and stopped at a gas station for a bite to eat, and after driving for a half hour or so, we realized that it would most likely have also been a good idea to fill the tank! Thankfully, we held out until the next pump.

And finally, we made it back after a very busy, but enjoyable week in London!

  That red spot in the middle is Olof. (Taken from the top of The Monument.)
 
           And that’s me. (Taken from the bottom of The Monument.)

                        And no, it’s not photo-shopped.

Inside The Monument… (And Mom, before you ask: yes, that is the real name. I’m not just calling every monument “the monument” because I can’t remember the name…)

                              Tower of London.