London
May 2-15, 2013
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Prologue:
Last year when we went to Paris we rented an apartment for two weeks. For this year's trip to London we considered renting an apartment but in the event decided to go to a hotel instead, so we could compare. We bought our hotel room in a package deal with the air fare from British Airways.
On Thursday before our Wednesday departure I started feeling some twinges in my right jaw. I started taking ibuprofen but the pain got worse so on Saturday morning I went to the dentist. X-rays didn't show anything, but tapping on the 6-year molar on the bottom made clear that was the problem. A root canal was called for, but the dentist didn't want to do it when I was planning a trip because if any air got trapped in the jaw it would be very painful on the flight. So he prescribed 40 capsules of amoxicillin to be taken two immediately and the rest at eight hour intervals until all gone.
Monday, April 30: On this Monday before our Wednesday morning departure I received an email from Hal Graboske, an old friend from college, alerting me two months in advance that he and his wife, Patsy, would be in DC in late June and hoping we could get together. In passing he mentioned that he was leaving Tuesday morning for 3½ weeks in Britain. In a flurry of emails it was determined that we would be in London at the same time and that I would get tickets for the four of us to a special exhibit on Pompeii and Herculaneum at the British Museum.
Thursday, May 2: On arrival in London, the long line for immigration at Heathrow was as bad as in the US in stark contrast with our experience in Paris last year. After a search for an ATM that would accept a non-chip-and-pin debit card we withdrew ₤400, which turned out to be more than enough cash for the trip, since most of our purchases were charged. Being tired, we decided to take a taxi to the K+K Hotel George. That was a mistake; it took over an hour and cost ₤80. (On departure, our return trip via Underground from Earl's Court to Heathrow took 45 minutes and cost only a ₤2.70 supplement to the prepaid Travelcard fare.) At least we had time for a nice chat with the taxi driver.
Our first impression of the hotel was good. The public rooms were small but there was a large, pleasant garden out back. This hotel may be unique in downtown London in that regard. The Earl's Court underground station was only a block and a half away, and there were many pubs and ethnic restaurants within a few blocks.
We couldn't check in until 2 pm so we went to Westminster, walked back and forth across the bridge, and listened to the chimes. After a trip to Selfridge's to buy a gift we returned to the hotel to check in, unpack, and plug the computer into the Ethernet.
Friday, May 3: We slept late, then met Hal and Patsy at the British Museum. After touring the special exhibit we went to dinner together. That was a nice visit. They left London the next morning.
Saturday, May 4: The forecast was for no rain until Monday but it was overcast and spitting rain so we did indoor things, touring St Paul's Cathedral and the Tate Modern gallery. We should have treated the Tate as we had the Pompidou Center a year before: knowing that it was modern art we did the Pompidou Center as we do the Hirshhorn Museum in DC; we didn't go in. At least the Millennium Bridge was fun even if it was raining.
Sunday, May 5: A pretty day, supposed to get into the 70s but it didn't. Carole tried to improve the hotel's buffet breakfast by taking a hardboiled egg, asking the waitress for mayonnaise, and making egg salad. Not a success. Then she sat in the hotel garden and read a newspaper.
Around ten we set out on Rick Steves's West End Walk, starting in Leicester Square. The "tkts" booth had nothing we wanted. There were two plays Carole wanted to see and both were sold out. I would have liked to see The Mousetrap but Carole wasn't interested. The walk took us to Covent Garden, where we enjoyed the street entertainers. Carole bought little gifts. From there, the guide book took us to Seven Dials, Soho Square, and Picadilly Circus. At dinner that evening, a woman who had been sitting a couple of tables away from us on her departure stopped to say in a strong French accent that Carole was "Very elegant."