London Calling

I spent a few days in good old London town and really enjoyed my time there. Part of me was tourist, part local, catching up with old haunts and even older faces. I was staying in my old neck of the woods – Finchley in North London and took an amble down memory lane one morning. Victoria Park, where I would very infrequently play tennis or go for a fog walk, Long Lane and our old house with plenty of weeds in the garden to keep the landlord happy, the old bus stop, Tasties Café, The Joiners Arms. A few things had changed, there were a couple of new cafes, the dodgy kebab shop at the end of Long Lane had become even dodgier looking and ‘coatman’ was absent, but mostly things looked pretty much as they should be.

The highlight of course was a trip to Tesco, were I could find every type of food item I wanted and knew where to find it plus much more than just food. Coles, pah, rubbish. Now who said Londoners were miserable? The checkout girls in Tesco were having a right proper laugh and so friendly and happy they wanted their picture taken as they scanned Barbecue Oak smoked crisps and Raspberry Trifle. I couldn’t imagine that happening with the preschool girl serving me some crappy Yogurt (and pronouncing it incorrectly too) in Coles! Pah, Coles!

More lashings of nostalgia were served up at Finchley Central tube station, where some improvements seemed to be taking place. The Northern Line was running for a start, but also they had some nice sounding woman telling me what train was next and going where and they had new screens dazzling me with information. The tube whizzed me in twenty first century comfort (okay I’m exaggerating now) into town where I got off to do some more touristy wanderings around the river and West End. It’s such a great area to amble, as many do, crossing the Thames with views upriver to St Pauls and the City, the London Eye looming everywhere and Parliament appearing round the corner.

Now, obviously in this climate of unease and constant bombardment that we should live in fear of terrorism there is much security evident in London. In fact, around City Hall and the London Eye, Emperor Livingstone had taken unprecedented steps to maintain our safety.

Crossing Westminster bridge I dodged the tacky souvenirs, busy people pretending to be in a rush to get somewhere because they are so busy, tourists taking endless pictures (aka me!) and people selling dodgy hot dogs and chestnuts to unsuspecting Americans.

Around Parliament Square there was the usual stream of traffic, the good old black cabs and red buses and yet more tourists taking weird and wonderful pictures. Goodness, London town is a popular place to be I tell ya.

They even have these ever so strange red boxes with these weird ringing communication devices contained within, decorated with lots of cards telling me that I can get a Thai Massage from Miss Pauline of Dagenham. What, take a picture of that and show it to the kids at home?!

It was time to get away from the traffic but not necessarily masses of people by moving onto St James Park. I have to say, the park was looking beautiful, so lush and full of flowers and majestic trees, neatly manicured lawns and slightly grimier looking ponds. This place, of course, surrounds Liz’s pad, a nice little palace with a few rooms for the occasional visitor.

There seemed to be some kind of royal event going on, a garden party perhaps, as there was a disproportionate quota of suits and hats and fascinators and big gold town hall chains and gowns around. I, clearly, wasn’t invited so I trekked on through Green Park, where, like most people, it wasn’t really worth basking on a deckchair in the now very limited sunshine.

People were having fun round here though, a veritable oasis of play in the heart of London. Whilst some people were playing with the more standard Frisbees and footballs (‘soccerballs’ for those reading this down under), others were doing strange things with sheets and sticks. Bemused, it was time to rejoin the sanity of the underground and head towards the City.

Before long I was on Grays Inn Road, the new home of my old workplace. Personally I was a bit disappointed not to visit Hanger Lane, way out west, and marvel in the ingenuity of a tube station in a roundabout and enjoy first class service at the Fox and Goose. It was nice to disturb everyone from their work for a bit, I’m quite good at doing that. After work, we all headed to a pub near Trafalgar Square, where I was quite impressed with the turn out…just goes to show the lure of alcohol I reckon. Getting used to paying in excess of ten pounds for a few drinks was not so good though…my brain was still thinking in terms of Aussie dollars.

So that was most of the exciting stuff from London. I did venture out a little more, to Oxford Street purely to get suited and booted for forthcoming weddings. That was during a torrential downpour which has since saturated half of England. For the most part however London stayed dry and it was nice to be back there for a few days. People were more friendly and happy than I remembered; the tube worked well and was impressive and of course there is always something just round every little corner.