London: Walking and Gawking

Walking and gawking (with the possibility of shopping thrown in for good measure) is a lovely way to spend a sunny day in London.

We had two such weekend outings to nearby outdoor markets.

But just because you walk to a market, even a world-famous one (the 4th most popular tourist spot in London!) does not mean you actually buy things once you arrive.  Not when you go with a couple of guys.  It means you walk and enjoy the stroll, note the destination and its extreme busyness, and then head home!
 
Our journey from Paddington to Notting Hill and the Saturday market on Portobello Road was certainly interesting enough.  We were charmed by the ethnic feel of the neighbourhoods as we passed Middle Eastern shops and restaurants, and trendy stores.  But the Market itself?  It was crammed with shoppers, so I had a hasty look at one or two of the 100-plus stalls, and that was the end of it.  I enjoy poking through antiques, but I did not want to inflict my indulgence on Bruce and John who were Not. At. All. Interested.

Although I suppose I could have sent them off to a pub while I joined the mob.  Why didn't I think of that at the time?

A tiny bit of the huge antique market on Portobello Road

On Sunday Bruce and I made another foray to another major open-air market.  It was a good day for walk.

We went to Little Venice by foot, and then by water bus on The Regent's Canal  past the zoo in Regent's Park, to the market at Camden Locks.

Little Venice, where many canal boats are permanently moored and used as "house boats". 

 On the waterbus and heading for the tunnel.

The end of the ride: Camden Market

It seemed as if all the gawkers and shoppers who had been on Portobello Road the day before were now crowded around the stalls at  Camden Locks.  I might have braved the crowds if I had been with someone keen to see what this famous craft market had to offer, but Bruce's enthusiasm for this sort of shopping experience was, as expected, zero.  Maybe even less than zero, if that is possible.

It was just as well.  I had no need for crocheted finger puppets of Royal Guardsman. 

We did have a cup of coffee at a Costa shop  (the same Costa folk who sponsor the literary prize for first novels),  and then we walked all the way back along the canal.  Our return journey on foot took exactly as long as it had on the water bus.

The return journey took us past all the boats which have put down roots by the canal.

In retrospect, these two "shopping trips" were completely about the journeys.

So when I was eventually asked at Customs how much money I had spent while in the UK, I was able to answer: "$55.00 for children's picture books from art galleries, and $5.00 for brown socks from Marks and Spencers."

I tried to feel virtuous.       

Walk this Way to the V&A

We came to London with every intention of walking as much as possible.  But you can't have a long "places-to-see" wish list and expect to combine every outing with a matching hike. In any case, the damp, cool, gloomy weather was not conducive to long periods spent out-of-doors.     

So our friend John's Fifty London Walks languished on the shelf, and we took buses and subways.

But that is not to say that we didn't find places to go on foot.

The Victoria and Albert Museum was about a half hour walk from Gloucester Tce. and the best route was through Kensington Gardens, a destination unto itself.

Off we went...

Kensington Gardens:  on our way to The V&A through the Italian Garden 

Kensington Gardens is a huge park with so much to explore that I am embarrassed to admit we failed to see most of it.  It was too cold for an outdoor adventure.  Besides, we had 145 V&A galleries to investigate.

The Albert Memorial, on the V&A side of Kensington Gardens

In the end, we only managed only about 20 V&A exhibits, and I blame it on china.  The world's most extensive collection of ceramics is on the museum's upper level, and that is where we (strategically) decided to begin.  We foolishly assumed that we could quickly take in this vast array, whipping by the Wedgwood and disregarding the Delftware. But this gallery demanded our attention, so we lingered longer, and after about a thousand plates, bowls, teapots, Toby jugs and Staffordshire dogs --not to mention cabinet upon cabinet of glassware--we finally found our way to the Architecture and Furniture galleries which had been our original destinations.

A tiny bit of the huge V&A museum from an elegant interior courtyard. 

There is lesson in this.  Study the wonderful Victoria and Albert Museum website first.  Plan your visit, and do not be seduced by the first china shepherdesses who winks in your direction.

It seemed entirely fitting that we got lost on our way home at the end of our V&A day. Coming back through Kensington Gardens we turned right when we should have gone left at the Italian Garden. (The "we" here is significant because this directional error is one I make all the time.  Bruce's internal compass rarely becomes confused.)

Striding on confidently, we failed to notice an absence of familiar landmarks until we were well and truly turned around .   However, we had our paper "bus map" with us, and we had our ancient paperback London A to Z, the one we could hardly read because the print was so small. That is probably why it took an hour-and-a-half to thread our way through a labyrinth of roads and back to familiar territory.   Perhaps it is time to get an i-phone.  Then we could make use of great websites like this one: My London Map.

When in London...

A lot of London must-sees were not on our list because we had seen them already. Tower of London? Check.  Big Ben? Check. London Eye? Check.   

What we had was a secondary list:  places we had missed on previous visits.  They included those we had always intended to see (The Victoria and Albert Museum), and those newly discovered (the Saatchi Gallery).   And as we worked our way through our itinerary, we became familiar with all the best ways to get around.

Central London = Busland

Our first excursion was by double decker bus to the Millennium Bridge, a footbridge across the Thames that was closed the last time we attempted to use it. While there we made a quick trip to the Tate Modern (it has been 10 years since our first visit), and then we meandered along the Thames lamenting that the weather was not more pleasant.  Another bus, caught midtown, took us back to Gloucester Tce.

Over the footbridge to the Tate Modern beyond.

This became our habit. We regularly caught the bus after all the locals had gone to work, explored our chosen destination for several hours, and then set off for home again in the late afternoon before rush-hour.

London Bridge is dwarfed by The Shard, a 72 foot glass tower .

These bus trips were more exciting (and perilous) than you might imagine because we insisted on sitting on the top of the double decker in order to enjoy the superior view. First we leaped aboard flashing our Oyster cards, and then as the vehicle pulled away we mounted the swaying stairs to the upper deck where we staggered down the aisle and flopped into the front seats.  But even sitting down was no guarantee of safety. Returning from an event with Anne, Bruce was thrown from his front row perch as the bus rounded a hair-pin turn. One moment he was sitting; the next he was on the floor.   He was sore for weeks after.  (We now refer to the incident as "Bruce's bus accident."  It sounds so much better than "Bruce fell off his seat." )

Although living in the West End close to the heart of the city, we were not above taking the underground if speed was a factor.  In fact, the pace of everything accelerates at a tube station.  No dawdling allowed!  Arrive at peak hours, and there is a risk of being swept away by the crowd.  Pity the poor tourist who is trying to manoeuver her wheeled luggage through the gates and onto the correct platform (Northern Line?  Piccadilly Line? ) while everyone else is rushing to get to work on time.

Wheeeee!

Best not to forget that undergound stations are under the ground and necessitate the use of escalators, lifts or stairs. The escalators, which are often long and steep, are in my opinion, the most fun.  I remember the old days when they were like amusement park rides in some exotic, steam-punk fantasy-land.  Today's tube stations, sadly, seem brighter, tidier and less smelly.  Now you can even check online to see what awaits at a particular subway stop, and I would certainly advise this for anyone with mobility issues.  Had we done a bit of research, we might have been alerted to the stair challenge at the Goodge Street Station, one of the old deep-level stations that served as bomb shelters during WW II.  Given a choice of lifts or stairs, we innocently took the stairs, and went spiraling down, down, down and down some more. It was a solitary descent, and no wonder.   Everyone else must have read the sign (thanks Google) at the entrance to the stairwell warning that more than 100 steps lead to the platform.

Goodge St. Station:  home of the 100+ step workout.

As Bruce and I rushed in and out of buses, and up and down subway stairs and elevators, we noted that Londoners of all ages seemed thinner and fitter than automobile-dependent Ontarians. It made sense. The cheapest way to get around in central London is on public transport, so every day, every passenger gets a daily workout. Weight-bearing, balance, aerobics -- it's all there without the trouble of a trip to the gym. 

We got the message.  We will need to keep up the walking and stair-climbing if we want to come back to London and travel like locals at least one more time.


 

Springtime in London

When our NZ friends John and Anne Smith told us they would be in London from April to June, (Anne was to be a visiting scholar with the NZUK Link Foundation), Bruce and I pounced on the opportunity to visit them.  Not stay with them, mind you -- just be in London for a couple of weeks while they were there. We would hang out with the Smiths, whom we don't see nearly often enough, and we would work our way through a wish list of Places-to-See, and Things-to-Do.  Although we have been to this most interesting of cities many times in the past, there was so much more to explore.  That we would have the opportunity to see long-time friends at the same time was a huge bonus.
  
We were fully prepared to find our own accommodation and were already checking airbnb when the Smiths announced that they were renting a very conveniently located apartment with a small second bedroom. And we were welcome to stay with them!  Yes, yes, yes!

Living on Gloucester Terrace I felt like a fugitive from Downton Abbey. 

On the very top floor of the elegant four story Gloucester Terrace town house, the tiny guest room  awaited.  Our view was of Paddington Station and its busy rail yard, and at night it still hummed with activity. The clackclackclack of midnight train traffic lulled us to sleep.  It was as if we were travelling north to Edinburgh (a fantasy--no trains leave for Scotland from Paddington) every time we crept into our little bedroom berth. 
    

The train yard by day--our bedroom outlook.

Our perfect, compact bedroom came with a pleasant train-yard soundtrack. 

The Gloucester Terrace flat had an industrial-style kitchen.

Living on Gloucester Terrace with the Smiths created the delightful illusion that we were part of the neighbourhood. We took double-decker buses into town or went over to the Royal Oak tube station to go by subway.  We walked on the high street, enjoyed the gardens, shopped at Waitrose and at Marks and Spencers', and carried our purchases home and schlepped them up the 55 stairs to the flat because there was no lift.  No problem: tourists want elevators, but we had no need.  We were local.

Mews housing in the neighbourhood--so pretty!

St. Paul's ahead! Our view from the front seat....  

A lifetime is not nearly long enough in which to see all that London has to offer, but at least we made a start at filling the gaps in our London Experience.  And while we were about it, the accommodation and the company couldn't be beat.

Did I mention we stayed in a very nice neighbourhood?