Leaving Home

Anyone who knows me even a little bit knows how much I like my creature comforts and my home.  Combine that with a laziness way above the norm and you have a travel companion from hell, I would guess.  So, not wanting to be that hellish person for my sister’s sake, I made a solemn vow to myself to NOT whine and complain about ANYTHING.  I’ve saved it all up for here instead.  HAHA!! 

So here goes.  The WestJet flight to Toronto was over three hours of tiny tv screen watching with one cup of coffee, two cookies, and a half a cup of water.  Why I specifically remember those details, I have no idea.  Then when we began our descent, everything suddenly went mysteriously quiet, like the engines had been turned off.  Then I noticed that people weren’t talking.  And then I realized they were, but their voices sounded very far away, like a radio being played in another room.  I yawned, chewed some gum, swallowed hard, flexed my jaw – all those things you do to pop your ears, but nothing worked.  It was the weirdest thing, like how things are all muffled when your head is under water.  I could hear my own voice just fine, since it echoed inside my head, and I guess since it sounded so loud to me, I wasn’t really projecting it to anyone else.  So when I asked a taxi driver about going to the Park Plaza he offered me a flat rate of fifty dollars to take a limo downtown.  Good grief.  We finally got that sorted out, and he was able to direct me to the place where I could catch the hotel shuttle to the Park Plaza by the airport. 

When I walked in, there was Ann, having just finished checking us in.  She came down to Toronto on the Airbus and had just been dropped off.  Great timing!  The temperature in Toronto was a sizzling 30 degrees, and later we walked over to a Boston Pizza where the temperature inside was a few degrees below zero in the air conditioning.  I lost an earring somewhere.  Aren’t these details fascinating? 

Okay, on to the next morning.  There was some kind of construction going on in the room next door at 7:00 a.m.  What are the odds??  But despite the early wake up, we spent a nice leisurely morning preparing for our trans-atlantic flight, getting to the airport, getting something to eat, checking in, going through customs.  This is why I hate travelling.  I wish I could just be transported somewhere unconcious.  Wake me up when we get there and all that.  I’m not very good at keeping track of things like boarding passes and passports and carry on bags and water bottles and all the other paraphanalia.   Now we had heard so many horror stories about TransAt that we were totally prepared to simply endure the flight.  With me not complaining. But it was completely fine!  Our seats were right at the back where the plane narrowed to two seats instead of three on the side.  There were little screens on the seats in front of us.  The crew was all British, in flight attendant uniforms, including little pill box hats.  They served us an absolutely excellent meal and we watched two movies, one of which was Blades of Glory.  I found it hysterically funny.  Even though my headphones fell apart (what the hell, I could hear with only one ear anyway), and one of our tv screens wouldn’t work.  So we switched places a couple of times. And there was a larger screen in the middle of the plane, but it wasn’t great for the old neck muscles to keep looking to the right.  Then we thought we should maybe try to get some sleep after I copied down this information from the screen:

Local Time:  12:44 a.m.  Altitude 39,000 feet.  To Destination:  3:55 hours  Speed 608 mph  Distance travelled (or to travel, I can’t remember) 2020 miles.  Outside temperature:  68 degrees farenheit

But there were a lot of crying babies.  And we had a lot to talk about.  And they gave us a landing card to fill out.  And then they served us breakfast!! 

And seriously – the six hour plus flight went by so quickly it was quite amazing!  I lost my hearing again when we landed but that was a minor detail in the grand scheme of things.  Gatwick Airport.  On the other side of the ocean.  We went on a crazy long walk through the airport to get to customs and the passport check with our landing cards.  That done, we messed about for awhile trying to find the Trafalgar people who were supposed to meet us.  Had to make a phone call finally, and eventually made our way to a hotel links booth where we were finally whisked off to the Gatwick Express train to London.  Saturday morning, six a.m., London fog at sunrise.  There was not much to see except the tracks, some stations, the backs of houses and their backyards, and a lot of brick walls, but I will never forget that ride.  I felt like pinching myself to make sure I was awake and really there.  We were met by no less than three porters who took us and our luggage to a waiting van and from there to our hotel.  On the wrong side of the road.  Saying interesting things which included “BLOODY HELL!”  when the driver found out we were from Canada and not Boston, or whatever place it was he originally guessed. 

The room at the Hilton Olympia was small but nice, with a toilet that refused to flush properly, and leaked water from the tank onto the floor requiring several towels to mop it up and a visit from a maintenance man who assured us it was all fine, but it still didn’t flush properly.  We were kind of too tired to care.  We slept for about four hours.  The hearing returned in my left ear.  We were in freaking London England.  OMFG. 

In the afternoon we went down to the hotel lobby, checked in with the Trafalgar people, and then got tickets for the “Original Tour”, a double decker bus ride around London.  This included taking a local bus to the tour bus, and blindly following some other ladies who were doing the same thing, and then promptly losing them.  Which was unfortunate, since we sure could have used their help getting back to the place of origin and the right bus back to the hotel.  But it all worked out.  I refuse to whine about it.  People in London are very helpful.  The tour was a whirlwind ride around in circles it seemed with the tour director blathering away and us snapping pictures of so many things that later we had no idea what half of them were.  But it was just SO much fun to be a Canadian tourist in London, listening to the way they talk, hearing all about Westminster Abbey, Big Ben, the Tower of London, Buckingham Palace, London Bridge. 

Isn’t this a great shot?  The backs of many heads, whipping down streets between large buildings. 

And this is a great one of our tour guide in front of a huge sign where you can advertise stuff.  For small fortunes I expect.  Or mega pounds.  It’s pretty impressive actually, if you’re not prone to migraines or motion sickness. 

A statue of a horseman with his head in the trees.  Great stuff. 

The Tower of London behind a tree.

Going over (or under) London bridge, depending how you look at it.

Westminster Abbey, the Tower of Big Ben – all that’s missing is the rosey red cheeks of the little childREN.  And yes, that song was going through my head for a good part of the tour.

The “Hung Drawn and Quartered” Pub.  With an authentic Englishman’s head obscuring the Hung part.  Although he could have been from somewhere else, come to think of it.  I don’t suppose a lot of Londoners ride these buses every day. 

 I believe these arches have something to do with Buckingham palace, but don’t quote me on it. 

Back at the hotel we headed for the restaurant/bar for fish and chips and a couple of rum and cokes, and looked at the pictures on our cameras and tried to remember what the hell we’d seen.  Then we had to get ourselves organized for the next day.  Wake up call at 5:45!  Suitcases to be out in the hallway for pick up at 6:15!  Breakfast at 6:30!  Already, they’re trying to kill us!!  But we are excited and happy and we are READY for this.  It’s been a long time coming.