On departure day, I decided I would get up early, leave Windsor at a decent early morning hour and spend the majority of the day exploring some bits of London.
That was the plan.
Jet lag is a bitch though… and managed to completely kibosh those plans. As luck should have it, I ended up sleeping until past 10. Amusing, considering I’d been so determined and uncompromising with my plans that I’d actually pre-booked a baggage storage for exactly 10am at Farrington Station. Oh well.
I did eventually make it into the centre of London… but it wasn’t until around the crack of noon… or ever so slightly after.
I blame the snooze button.
I have zero control over it. Jet lag really seems to have taken a liking to me in my old age. Much, much more than when I was younger. It’s like a bad stench… lingering like stale skunk spray… or like an overbearing guest that’s overstayed their welcome, yet still feels compelled to hang around much longer than appreciated. People say jet lag is worse going east or west, but I find it equally as difficult either direction.
So yes… once my bag was safe & stored at Farrington station, off I went to explore the Big Smoke for a few hours. I must say, it’s a real taste of freedom not having my computer with me. This is the first time I’ve traveled without it, so it’s a bit of a learning curve for me. Of course, I don’t have the luxury of storing photos, editing websites… or doing anything techy & tricky like that… but being rid of the extra weight & responsibility is fabulous.
Liberating.
Apologies in advance about not properly being able to place photos on my blog as I would necessarily like. I simply do not have that particular capability on my iPhone or iPad. They just get plunked on and I have zero control of sizing.
So here I was in London.
Again.
After my two bluebird days in London a couple years ago, it has become one of my favourites. The rich history, the quaint pubs, the vibrant culture, the cobblestone back alleys, the captivating architecture… I just adore London.
*except when it rains.
I was lucky and it didn’t rain, but the gloomy & grey clouds followed me around for the entire afternoon. Rain threatened, but never followed through.
London is ginormous… and there was no way I was even going to put a dent in seeing all that it had to offer, and I knew that. So I started my sightseeing journey at St. Paul’s Cathedral - where Charles & Di got hitched. I’ll admit, I got a bit teary. Poor Diana. From there, I walked my crippled self across the Thames Millenium bridge, through chocked-block busy-busy Borough Market, down Union Street… stopping in (of course) to wet my whistle at a very unique & fascinating pub, called Vaulty Towers.
For November 1st in dreary London, I was more than slightly surprised to find the city overrun with people. I don’t know if they were predominantly tourists or locals… but they were out in droves. I’d read about how fabulous historical Borough Market was, and I was looking forward to eating my way through it… but I was disappointed to find it congested and borderline claustrophobic. As soon as I was in, I wanted out.
Vaulty Towers was a sensory overload, and highly recommended for anyone ventured into the centre of London. It describes itself as a playful tavern offering whimsical decor… and nothing could be further from the truth. If you venture through their doors though, watch where you sit and make sure you don’t indulge too much depending on some of the table locations. The place is full of nooks & crannies, ladders, swings and hidden tables… all on a multitude of levels. Don’t fall! I only popped in for one Aperol Spritz, a quick selfie and a little video… so I was ok. Thank goodness…
From there, I hobbled all the way over to Westminster Abbey - where the funeral of Princess Diana was held… Poor Diana. I wandered down Downing Street, glanced in to see if I could see any big wigs mulling around Number 10… and paid my respects to the remarkable Winston Churchill statue, keeping a watchful eye over everything.
It was a full few hours, but along with the necessary slosh stops, a lot of window shopping and many, many photo opportunities (obviously), I am surprised I made it to Farrington to pick up my bag on time.
But I did.
Back on the train…
Next stop ~ Cambridge!
… to be continued…
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