Goodbye, London

Ah, our last two days in London. Greg and I ventured about like we owned the place, without our chaperone to spoil the fun. 

On Thursday the morning was beautiful – sunny and mild. Although we didn’t get as early a start on the day as we would have liked, we decided that it would be the best day to visit Hampstead Heath and see the view of London from Parliament Hill. But first … we had a sacred quest.

We got a phone call while we were en route to Scotland saying that Greg’s hat had been found! We could recover it at Paddington, the station where he lost it. So we set off on the underground, changing trains like pros, and inquired at the station. They had no idea what we were talking about. They told us that all lost property was transferred to the Baker St. station after 1 day, even though we’d had a phone call saying otherwise. Alex had even checked that very morning and been given a claim number. So we went to Baker St., where the clerk at the lost property office looked at us like we had asparagus sprouting from our ears. Her snippy voice made it clear that she thought we were idiots.

“That’s not one of our claim numbers.”

Gah. We apparently looked pitiful enough that she thought she’d never be rid of us unless she made a phone call … and found that it was at the Paddington station after all. Who’s the idiot now?

At any rate – Greg got his hat back.

Off to Hampstead Heath, although we would have to take a different route than what Alex had given us, since we were leaving from Paddington station. Turns out we took the long way, which put us outside the Hampstead Heath train station just in time for the rain. And coming out of the train station, we couldn’t tell where to go, so we of course turned the wrong way, making a loop through the town before finding Hampstead Heath. At which point it started to pour.

Mama said there’d be days like this.

I had my umbrella, so aside from soggy feet, I was fine, but Greg got soaked through. (I did try to share, but he kept telling me I was trying to poke his eye out and would rather get wet).

By the time we got to the top of Parliament Hill, the rain had moved on, but the view was still not what we were hoping for when we set out that morning.

Zooming in on the Shard, an office building in the city

Hampstead was a lovely area – obviously a lot of money there, as the streets were lined with Mercedes, Jaguars and Mazeratis.

We met Alex after work at her office, to meet her co-workers and add to our pub visit list. One of her friends, Lily, who went to Santorini with her in October, met up with us later and went to dinner with us. Then a quick run by the Sherlock Holmes museum (which was of course closed) just because …

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Friday was museum day. We had planned to visit 3 of them on our trip, but by the last day, we’d done none of them. Trying to cover 3 in one day meant that we had to be selective about what we saw, because there was no way we could possibly see all of each museum. First was the National Galleries (not my favorite) although they have a statue of George Washington in front of the building facing Trafalgar Square. Interesting story about that – apparently the old man said he would never again set foot on British soil, so the Brits imported soil from Virginia to place under the statue, so he could keep his word from the beyond. Nice, huh?

Then to Tate Britain where we saw everything JW Turner ever created, including the crayon drawings his mom put up on the refrigerator, and lots by John Constable. Something about Constable’s work makes me feel like I could climb inside the paintings and stroll through the fields – gives me the warm fuzzies. Also enjoyed seeing some of William Blake’s work and a couple of Pre-Raphaelite paintings. I expected a large display of Pre-Raphaelites, since they were overwhelming British, but I only saw a few, scattered across a couple of rooms. I don’t know whether I missed a lot since we were being selective, but that was a little disappointing.

After Alex got off work, we met her and our neice Marley and went to the British Museum, which is full of all the amazing things that the British empire stole from other cultures over the centuries.

Assyrian wall frieze	Greek statues
Roman floor mosaics	Egyptian mummies

In fairness, there was a room full of floor to ceiling bookshelves, housing the library of King George III, donated to the museum in 1823 by his son.

 

 

We finished the evening with dinner with Marley in Chinatown.

 

Saturday through Tuesday – Dublin!