The Tower, the Tower Bridge and a proud Yeoman of the Guard
Arriving in the UK, there’s a sense of coming home, especially if you’ve devoured as many English novels, films and TV series as I have over an entire lifetime. The flight was uneventful, leaving L.A. at 6:15 in the evening and arriving at Heathrow at noon the following day. Uneventful flights are always desirable. Lots of people with dicey passports in immigration but then an easy express train from Heathrow to Paddington Station. Agatha Christie’s 3:10 to Paddington came to mind as we arrived at my first ever English station. (Frank has been before.)
From Paddington, a taxi (past Baker Street - hello, Sherlock), straight to our home away from home - a nice hotel in Bloomsbury made up of five townhouses. Ours was built in the memorable year of 1776. We unpacked, freshened up a little, then went down to the bar to meet publicity manager Helena of Faber who arranged this whole trip for us. We immediately knew we were in good hands for the rest of the week.
After reviewing our schedule, Helena left and we were so tired, we didn’t feel like searching for a restaurant (it was 7 by then), so asked if they had food there. Two other women were eating in the bar area as well. Thus unfolded a scene straight out of Fawlty Towers “Sorry, Chef has no ham as it turns out.” A tuna melt arrives which is canned tuna on hot bread and nothing else. That goes back. No chips or crisps as the menu described. Back for those. Frank receives an all-white sandwich on a white plate. All of this became a bonding device for us and our fellow guests, who turned out to be two infant school teachers (think pre-school-K) from Leicester who escape their husbands a few times a year for shopping and theater in London. After a hilarious comedy routine surrounding their desserts. (”I recommend the cheesecake - it’s our speciality.” “But it’s not on the menu.” “Oh, but it’s our best.” “We’ll take it.” “Uh, er, sorry, we’re all out of cheesecake.”) It turns out all that was available was apple crumble (by then the pretense of there ever being a chef was abandoned). With two soup bowls of ice cream, which Kath and Chris shared with us. After a mysterious visit from the police (”just go ahead, folks, have your drinks”) we had a cozy evening comparing schools and they were very excited about the Humphrey book for World Book Day.
Helena had generously given us a whole day to recuperate before the onslaught of events but what did we do on Saturday? As much as possible, of course. The weather was decent, for one thing, so we thought we should take advantage. We walked from our hotel (down Tottenham Court Road) to Oxford Circus and searched and searched for the double decker tour bus that was supposed to be along there somewhere. No bus. We did happen upon Carnaby Street and for a 60s girl like me, that was a fun detour. Back to bus-searching and we finally found - not the bus we were searching for - but the other bus, the more expensive one with better guides and happily hopped aboard for our first views of Big Ben and Parliament among other sights. The guide was wonderful in building us up for the turn around the corner and our first magnificent glimpse of Big Ben.
We got off at the Thames and took the boat tour, which was included and definitely worthwhile. It ended at the Tower of London and though we hadn’t planned on it, spent the rest of the afternoon there - just happening on the beginning of a tour with a very entertaining guide - a Yeoman of the Guard pictured above - and climbing stairs with abandon. Saw the crown jewels, the dungeon, and had a magnificent history lesson. And some good fish and chips. No time for the magnificent London Eye - the amazing wheel but perhaps later.
Back on the bus, past Buckingham Palace, Westminster Abbey, Scotland Yard - but it didn’t go all the way back to Oxford Circus so they let us off at Marble Arch and we walked all the way back down Oxford Street -quite a trek. Oxford Street is the main shopping area and on a Saturday evening so packed you could barely walk. I’ve never seen such crowds even in New York. We stopped at a Waterstone’s and I signed some stock but the World Book Day Humphrey books were locked up in the back until Wednesday.
Where to dine on a Saturday night, tired and windblown? We were almost back to the hotel and passed a Thai restaurant called Busaba - about a half a block from where we’re staying. (We’re directly across the street from the University of London.) Helena had mentioned there was a great Thai restaurant down the street and it looked wonderful so we wandered in. They had large communal tables and we were seated. There was a large family group well along with their meal and two guys. We fumbled around the menu and started asking questions. Soon, any of the supposed English reserve (everyone here talks about how reserved they are but honestly they’ve been warmly friendly) dropped away. The food and wine were great - the best calamari, prepared with ginger and cilantro, I’ve ever had - and we became fast friends with the family. There was a son and his wife, his parents and her mother because the next day was Mother’s Day in the UK (for UK friends, Mother’s Day is in May in the US). Then I bonded with the fellows sitting next to me and we all hated to part in the end. Little did we know how lucky we’d been to get in - a half block queue outside waiting to get in. And that’s true night after night at this lovely restaurant. Back at the hotel, books were waiting to be signed for Kath and Chris - they had even found some Humphrey World Book Day books for sale!
What a start to the week ahead - and little did I know what was yet to come!
