Travel Diary 27

We flew with British Airways to London. Had to repack a bag in order to have only one piece of excess luggage for which we paid some 64 Swiss francs, about $A120, and ended up with one piece of carry on weighing just 14kgs that they ignored it is a back pack and about the right size. It was an uneventful flight with no alcohol served on board and the usual airline food consisting of a “salad” roll. At least that’s what they called it anyway!

We managed our way through the long queues of Heathrow Customs and security checks and Passport controls. Interesting that the UK does this even though it is part of the European Union. But then realised it is not part of the Schengen Area, so they still control their borders. This took so long to do that staff handed out bottles of water to everyone and about an hour and a half later we had collected our bags and walked out into the airport public area.

First impressions are of a drop in temperature! Then how busy the place is. People everywhere! Everyone seemed to know what they were meant to be doing except us. Our instructions had been to go from Terminal 5 down to the area holding Terminals 1,2 and 3 and catch either the London express which is quick, but then a change to the Metro and back to near Kensington and a half mile walk to the Hotel. Don’t use cabs as they are enormously expensive we were told and the Hotel does not provide a pickup service.

I pulled out the written instructions from the Travel Agent and noticed I had made a note that she was supposed to arrange a pick up by the Hotel, but I had no record of this being done. Maybe there was a taxi driver or chauffeur inside with an iPad or piece of paper with our name on it? So off I went to check. Five minutes later and having read about 50 signs, I was pretty sure no one was looking for us. What to do?

Back outside again and Kerrie had starting talking to a local lady who was busy explaining what our travel options were. These lined up with my understanding and in the end, she lent us her phone to call the Hotel to ask if they had arranged for a driver. They hadn’t, but could get one if we wanted for only 35 pounds instead of the usual 100 odd. Sounded like a good deal as I couldn’t see the sense of struggling in and out of trains with 6 pieces of luggage, so I accepted.

He arrived about 45 minutes later and we were off. Eventually we arrived at Bayswater Rd, Kensington, the main drag opposite Hyde Park and checked in, got settled and asked for something to eat. By now it was 10.30pm and we had not a meal since breakfast if one ignores the “salad” roll British Airways had substituted for real food. The kitchen was closed, but a sandwich was available and that sounded good to a couple of hungry, tired travellers.

Interestingly, as were loading or luggage up the lift to the reception on the first floor, a police van pulled up outside and half a dozen policemen got out, started putting on their protection gear and loading up with guns and batons etc and then proceeded into the Hotel, some up the stairs and some in the lift! Not very auspicious looking at all and we just looked at each other thinking, what on earth is going on here!

We stood there for a minute watching the police left with the van who were opening and closing doors on the large van and organising police stuff and equipment and doing police things on the foot path about 20 feet away. All the time felling a little more trepidation and wondering if we had walked right into a terrorist attack!

However, a few minutes later, down came the police all smiles, no people who had arms bent up their backs with them and chatting amongst themselves as if they had just had a good feed and drinks in a restaurant. I looked at the Sergeant and asked if it was OK to go inside. He saw our luggage and bags and guessing we had just arrived, said that all is OK and welcome to London as if this was an everyday occurrence! Cheeky bugger!!

The next day there was news about a fight and multiple stabbing in Hyde Park, straight over the road. So now we knew what had been going on. Although why they checked out the Hotel I do not know.

The next morning, we had to do a load of washing and after finding out where the Laundry Mat was – about 2 kms walk away and spending a few hours doing all this and getting stuff dried and folded and then back to the Hotel and packing it all away, it was really too late to go anywhere much. So instead we took a walk through Hyde Park.

The Park is a large area probably about 2-3 hectares in size with paths cutting across and through it with statues at their junctures. The grass was about 300mm high and straggly. Stately trees throw excellent shade and many people were grabbing the last rays of the sunshine. Lying in the long grass so they could just be seen or propped up against the trunk of a tree or lying with their head on top of their partner’s chest chatting away as lover’s sometimes do.

We headed over to the other side where we found ourselves face to face with the Royal Albert Hall in which the Royal Command Performances are held annually. What a shock! This building is nothing much to look at from the outside. I had been expecting a grandiose, imposing building fit for Royalty. But No, it was just an ordinary theatre front with the name plastered above the door and a dome on top! The statue over the road of King Albert is far more spectacular in my opinion. Lots of symbolism built into it and quite interesting and imposing.

Maybe I have been spoilt for imposing buildings! However, I do enjoy the TV programs of what goes on inside it! Great shows and classically British! Must be nice to say to someone “I feel like watching so and so perform next week. Please organise it!!”  

And it all happens! Wonderful stuff!!

Around the corner from here are most of the Museums London is famous for. We walked down to the Science Museum and for the measly sum of nothing, went inside. I had wanted to do a spot of ancestor tracking while in the UK and my grandfather of six generations ago had been the Master of the London Clockmakers and Jewellers Guild. Apparently was a jeweller to Queen Victoria, had a shop in Regent Street and had a few displays in the first World Trade Fair held here in London. My research had shown that some pieces from the old Clockmakers Museum had been transferred to this Museum and I wondered if any of his work was on display. We couldn’t find any, but it was interesting nevertheless.

On the way home we diverted through the Music Conservatory, another Museum, a University and then cut across the corner of Hyde Park to Kensington Palace. No one appeared to be home but we wandered around and took a couple of photos and then walked up the street outside full of large, white, beautiful, stately homes, all in immaculate condition and well cared for. These are all embassies and despite looking the Ecuadorian one, we couldn’t find it! I would have quite enjoyed a bit of a chat with the man who loves spilling other peoples’ secrets! 

Kensington Palace takes up a huge amount of this road on one side and all along the fence line is tied black plastic mesh to stop the nosy people looking in to see they spot a Royal person or two. It’s a bit untidy and probably a high rock wall would have been better and more effective. Particularly as here and there, the mesh had been pulled and twisted to give a small glimpse of what is inside the grounds. As one could imagine, security is rife here and armed police are situated at entranceways, driveways and even at the end of the street. Once cannot just decide you are going for a drive down this street any old time! You have to have a reason for being there before being allowed in I suspect. As we walked up the road, a lady came out of one of the embassies we were trying to work out belonged to which country. Turns out it was the one belonging to the Russians and the look of the lady confirmed it! We got such a look! Fancy, a couple of commoners peering around trying to work out what was written on the seal near the front gate! Disgusting! We smiled at her and just kept moving.

Back on Bayswater Rd, it was dinner time and we found a local pub and ordered. This was the Swan Hotel which laid claim to being one of the oldest around and also a popular drinking hole for condemned people to have their last drinks on their way to be hung. During the 18^th C, hanging day was treated as a public holiday and thousands of people would turn out to see the event. Many of the condemned would bribe their jailers and guards to let them have a pint or two on the way from the prison to the hanging site and apparently they would wave at the crowds watching, some would throw money at the them, speeches would be made and all having a jolly good time of it! Hence the term, “gallows humour” I suppose! Trust the British! Stiff upper lip and all that, eh!

The next day, we found out that the London Pass I had bought entitled to a Hop Off and Hop On bus as well as the entry discounts to various sites. So we used that. I’m not sure it was much good as it took nearly an hour and a half to go 2 kms through London traffic which was horrendous. We could have walked faster except I would have been stuffed for the next few days.

We went to the Tower Hill and went on a Tour of the Prison and Church and heard all about the head choppings off and who had been held in this place on the King or Queen of the day’s orders. We had explained that the myth about the Palace and Tower would fall if the Ravens ever left, so they clip their wings so they can’t leave and bring in new ones everyone so often when some die. Best to make sure, even if it is only a myth!

I was not aware of this, but their used to be a menagerie here full of animals from Africa and other parts of the world that the Royals could visit to satisfy their curiosity or boredom between the good days of chopping someone’s head off. We heard about how some people just knelt down politely to get their head removed and others objected strenuously. One 18-year-old lady accused of sleeping with someone she shouldn’t have actually ran around trying to escape. A pointless exercise, but highly understandable. Unfortunately, the executioner chased her and it took 18 swings of his axe before her head came off! They didn’t mess about back then did they!

Fortunately, things have changed. The animals are no longer kept there and criminals are given a nice place to sleep, 3 squares a day, TV and so on and get to keep their heads on as a bonus. Much better and less messy too!

Around the Tower Hill used to be a moat which was connected to the Thames River flowing a few meters away. However, at one point, the Thames became so polluted with sewerage and dead animals and other garbage and so much of it collected in the moat that the King ordered the moat to be filled in. These days it is a nice green grassy lawn which one is supposed to keep off. Except for some people from Asia who cannot read the signs and of course, they are allowed to walk and lie down on it and pose for pictures on it if they want. Everyone else, stay off!

After this we walked a couple of Kms to do some more family tracking down. We found the Clockmakers guild which was a bit of a fluke as it has moved from the address I had and by a sheer fluke I happened to go into a building to ask someone where it had gone and there on the list of tenants was its name! So up to the third floor and we found the rooms but it was closed. Apparently, it is not always open and no one around knew of set hours or when it would be open. Pity, but we had to move on.

Back to the Tower Hill, after negotiating a bunch of streets and past St Pauls with long queues outside, down the steps and down the street. Then deciding we wouldn’t catch the Hop On Hop Off Bus but instead have a boat ride up the Thames.

A quick look at the Tower Bridge and then onto a boat for a ride up to the River closer to where we could catch the underground going out to Nottinghill. The closest stop to our Hotel.

This was an interesting ride as the boat was packed being half full of tourists and the other half just locals wanting to get home from work! There were three lines of people with 50 – 60 people in each, waiting to get on boats going one way or the other. I noticed that the ticket sellers and other transport staff kept counting people on and off the boats to ensure they never had to many on them so no capsizing. For which I was thankful, even if it did mean a wait of about 35 minutes in line before we could board. The Thames River looked cold, rough with strong undertows, very deep and dirty and not the kind of place you’d want to take a swim in!

The Underground proved an education. A single trip of 7 stops cost us nearly five pounds each. Standing room only and being pushed from pillar to post by people wanting to get on or off at each stop. Peak time! Same in every city, just not as polite in this one!

I listened to the sounds of conversation around me and while I heard a few English accents, there were many from Europe. Italians, Poles, Rumanians, Czechs and so on. Lots from Africa and the Middle East as well. Many of the later still speaking their native tongues and seemingly unable to cope with English. Very few straight out English accents by people with English appearances. It seems to me that London is being taken over slowly and surely by world’s ultimate travellers – economic refugees.

During our time in the UK, we found very few people of English descent working in hospitality. All of the staff at the Hotel in London and I mean all, were either European, complete with their own versions of English accents or Phillipinos. The lady who checked us in was obviously born and educated in Italy and was delighted when I thanked her in Italian using the correct accent. Her face lit up in surprise and delight and before she realised it, out slipped “Prego!” I looked and we both laughed together! Lovely interaction!

It was different at B&B’s of course. These are mostly run by the English as they own the property.

Or last day we spent with a friend from NZ who has recently moved to London to work for a couple of years. Great to see him and we walked from our Hotel to the city centre. Wandered around for a bit. Saw the area in Regent Street where my great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather had his jewellers shop, now a department store. Found a pub where we had a beer or two and something to eat and later walked back. A pleasant few hours catching up.

Before we left the next morning on or drive around England and Wales, I walked a couple of Kms away to find the houses my ancestors had built. I found two of them and took photos for the family records and tree I am building. No longer the big old stately homes, but split up into apartments. Which is typical of inner London. Then a taxi ride out to Heathrow where we collected our hire car.

Interesting to see that the car hire company were not interested too much in the scratches and marks on the car when we picked it up until I insisted we go over it and mark them all down on the paperwork. I do not know whether this is the usual treatment, but I had been warned about this from people who had hired cars, not recorded the existing marks and then were accused of making them and charged accordingly. The charges are ridiculously high – hundreds of pounds. So, if you ever hire, be careful and make sure existing damage is recorded.