15 October 2009

We slept in until 10 a.m. Boy, did we need our beauty sleep! By 11:30 we woke up and my scooter battery charger had two pretty green lights glowing and we were off. We followed Rick Steves’ travel advice and packed our lunch.

Off to the Tube and Golder’s Green. The two station attendants came over to warn us about “minding the Gap.” We replied that we were professional Gap Masters - we actually could try this at home. We jumped on the first train that was sitting on the track - only to realize that we were on the Waterloo train when we wanted the London Bridge train. My bad. we had to change trains at Camden. Once we were on the right train we arrived at London Bridge station, negotiated the cliff face, I mean the Gap, and found ourselves on the sidewalk along with 10 or 20 million of our nearest and dearest friends. I mean it. The sidewalk was actually officially teeming with people. I’ve walked on many a crowded street, but this was a serious bunch of very busy people! I had to wait for an opening to enter the stream of Londoners all busily doing whatever it is they do. It was a portent of things to come.

We managed to get to the Thames river. Does everybody know that only in Baltimore is it pronounced “thaymes” and not the British pronunciation of “tems?” We found a bridge We crossed the bridge. We got to the other side, just like the chicken who crossed the road.

The day was so beautiful we decided to walk along the Thames to Westminster Abbey. At the ticket booths for the river cruises, we stopped on a bench and ate our lunch, feeling positively smug. Here we were, sitting on the Thames riverbank, as if we had no worries, noshing away on kosher chicken paté on Ryvita crackers, drinking tap water.

I found the Cabinet War Rooms, having ended up at the non-accessible entrance. We scootered around to the accessible entrance, which is where I found out that my London Pass had to be picked up from the Tourist Information center. The lively young man directed me to Victoria Station. Nice young man, wrong station. It turns out that I need to go to Lower Regent Street near Piccadilly Circus. Up until now Glenn had avoided the busses like like a kid with H1N1. I, the intrepid, if not impetuous one, decided to take a bus. It pulled up, I got on and had a great time. Got there, got the passes from Sabina the greatest receptionist in England, and back to Churchill's War-time digs. Glenn stayed so long inside, that Paul the manager issued him a pass to return the following day for free. The staff there were just “loverly” as Eliza Doolittle would say.

The rest of the evening was a run up to our one appointment - The Tower of London at 21:30 sharp. As the invitation stated: “Latecomers will not be admitted.” So stay sharp for the next update - DON’T BE LATE!”