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Stephan drives us back into Bruges to make the early train to London. We stop for coffee and finally get our elusive
Belgian waffle. We figure the train
station is a fine place to get an authentic example, where the average Belgian
would have one. Like the beer and the
chocolate, who knew waffles were a thing here? Besides the airport like security scramble at our transfer in Brussels, the train is very
civilized like all our other European train experiences. Nice breakfast service with fresh croissants and
good coffee. I’ve always wanted to go through
the Chunnel. We do. It’s pretty much like every other subway
tunnel.
Arriving at Waterloo station (now called St. Pancras
International because the mention of Waterloo hurt the French feelings) we get
into one of London’s iconic Hackney Carriages, the odd little black taxi cabs
seen in so many movies. Traffic is
pretty much always brutal in London, but our hack (slang for taxi driver, derived
from Hackney) demonstrates a level of patience that only a combination of zen-like
peace and decaf can provide. On the way
to our hotel in Mayfair, I notice the insane car show that is London. In the last few blocks, we lose count of how
many Bentleys and Rolls Royces we see.
Exotics abound, including the Audi R8 5.2 Plus curb parked half a block
from our Hotel St. James that remains there for our entire stay. The St. James is a grande dame of a hotel adjoining
Green and St. James Parks and a just a short walk to Buckingham Palace. The hotel is elegant, the location is terrific,
and our room is very clean, but the place is in obvious need of maintenance. We waste an hour changing rooms to get into
one where the air conditioning works. We
very much like the doorman who has a very British formality to his duties, and
he greets us warmly as we head out.
The park has the early-spring-in-the-city energy, plenty of
activity, dogs off leash following their owners loyally. Mandy realizes it’s almost 11am and somehow
she knows that Monday at 11 is the Changing of the Guards at Buckingham
Palace. She hustles me along and I lift
her onto a high stone railing for a view of the ceremony. The palace grounds are packed with people
from all over the world who are as excited to see the royal spectacle as Mandy
is. The columns of marching guards and
columns of horses looping around the massive fountain mark the end of the
ceremony.
London is the “greenest” city in the world, with over 47% of
Greater London being parks, gardens and other greenspace. It is a beautiful day so we decide on the long
walk through Green Park and Hyde Park to check out London’s legendary gardens. We stumble across the Diana Princess Wales
Memorial Walk, which happens to be right on our way. Spring is a good time to be here as it is
sunny and warm and in bloom. We make our
way to the far end of Hyde, and continue on into Kensington to the Churchill
Arms for a well deserved pint (ain’t they all?)
Churchill arms is a traditional British pub, but one of the most
beautiful. It’s said that the extensive
flower boxes covering the exterior are in bloom all year long and certainly
they are today. At the bar, the lovely Irish
barmaid pumps us a few Fullers and gives us the lowdown on the place. We sit taking in the scene. It’s just as we hoped, mostly locals with a
few of us tourists mixed in. It’s not like
an American bar scene. Here the intimate
tables with stuffed chairs are the place to be, to talk work and politics and
life with your mates.
Finishing our beer, we head back into Hyde Park. We’re having tea at the Palace. Specifically,
high tea at the Orangery at Kensington Palace, the most traditional tea service
in the most traditional place to have such a meal. Apparently, in the early 1800s dinner was becoming
later and later, 8pm or 9pm being the fashionable hour for the nobles to
dine. Anna, the 7th Duchess
of Bedford, wasn’t digging the late dining so she started having tea and snacks
snuck up to her room. Soon friends were asked
to indulge with her, and quickly this became a coveted invite among the court. Today, we’re invited. Or at least we have reservations. The Orangery is a dining room set in a glass
fronted garden pavilion built for Queen Anne in 1704, and today Princess Mandy makes
her debut. We pick a nice tea, a good Champaign
and the standard three tier tray. You
eat up, finger sandwiches on the first floor, scones on the second and finish
with the cakes on the penthouse. Our
table looks out over the sunken garden in all it’s spring splendor. A very proper afternoon. Followed by a very proper nap.
Our hotel on St. James Place really is a great location. The walk to Soho takes under 15 minutes.
Soho is significantly more funky then
Kensington, but funky in that English sorta way. The atmosphere is relaxed, the pub goers
lifting pints leaning on the outside walls of every pub we pass. The pubs show football matches on a single
screen near the windows, and the pubs are segregated by club fans. Like wearing a Dallas colors to an Eagles game,
I just wouldn’t wear an Arsenal jersey into a Manchester United pub and expect
to live. The fans are stacked deep
looking through the open windows at the match and it looks like a scene from a
1950s movie where the townsfolk are all watching coverage of an alien attack
through the window of the television shop.
We slip into Yauatcha, the sleek dim sum house. To the bar for an expertly crafted cocktail
in some ultra mod digs. Then it’s
downstairs to the swank dining room to sample some shui mai, har gau, cheung
fun and other beautiful offerings I can’t pronounce. We walk back by a different route, holding
hands, window shopping along the row of fine tailors slipping in and out of the
yellow pools of light on this cool London evening.
(click on the picture to go to the blog)
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