All travel is challenging. You make your plans, and I am nothing if not a planner, and wing it if events force you to diverge. Jenny and I are tucked away in our small, but comfortable, hotel room in London, The Wesley on Euston Street. It's surprisingly spacious for a European hotel, though the shower is predictably tiny and awkward.
We had a long, cramped flight across the pond on Virgin Atlantic. Though crammed in like sardines, and despite an hours uncomfortable wait on the tarmac for the weather to clear, Virgin Atlantic has lots of extras that make the flight tolerable: an amazing entertainment selection on your own little screen, a bag of flight goodies (like earplugs and soft slippers) and a flight crew that always seemed perfectly put together, super polite British accents and all.
And now, for the first hitch: the day before we left I came down with a real, nasty cold. Fever and all. After an emergency delivery from Elizabeth's stock of OTP meds, I was able to make it through the flight, with very little sleep, and not even TOO cranky. Jenny's patience with her sicky travel partner was legendary.
After some initial scrambling, we found an atm and our reserved taxi driver. Soon we were speeding through the outskirts of the great city, bright, early morning sunlight almost blinding. The weather was blessedly cool, not the hot sticky swealter that we left in DC.
Our hotel, The Wesley, turned out to be quite a find. Really well located, half a block from the Euston tube station, it's touted as London's first ecologically responsible hotel and is sponsored by the Methodist church. Our little room is on the third floor, accessed by this tiny little lift (UK for elevator) whose announcing voice sounds like a very bored posh man. The room is decent size for a European hotel room, with two bouncy, but well padded, twin beds, great air con and the worlds greatest blackout blinds, which come in handy when sleeping off your jetlag.
We visited Speedy's Sandwich Shop nearby, which is prominently featured in the BBC Sherlock series Jenny and I are so fond of. Had a full English breakfast, including black pudding (blood sausage) which I made Jenny try.
Later that day, after our nap, we braved the tube stations, which turned out to be not as accessible for the disabled as we had hoped. We finally made it down to the Westminster docks on the banks of the Thames river, right next to Houses of Parliament buildings and the Queen Elizabeth Tower, with Big Ben in the top, sounding dolefully every half hour.
I had booked us on a welcoming Thames Sundowner Cruise. After a short wait, they ushered us on the bobbing deck, handed us a complimentary champagne glass, and we sat down in an enclosed salon with windows all around, and listened to a sax player.
The cruise was amazing. Slow and comfortable, sliding past all the landmarks along one of the worlds oldest rivers, we went under the iconic Tower Bridge, and the ominous Tower of London and all the way out into the new technology and business corridor of London called the Docklands (reclaimed from blight and now gleaming with skyscrapers). Then they turned around, went back past the middle of old London and down the other side, where we paused near the MI5 headquarters, Thames House, which you may have seen blown up in the last James Bond movie.
We discovered, halfway through, that we could go upstairs and enjoy the open air and stunning scenery...so we did. Much nicer up topside. Jenny eventually got into a long conversation with a group of lively Canadians from Toronto.
After the cruise we stopped at a nearby classic pub, which someone on board recommended to me. Had some lovely fish and chips, and a pint of cider and called it a day.
Twas a glorious time. Hope to catch up on this blog, as you can see we are already halfway through our trip. Hang in there dear reader. Cheerio.
3 comments:
Leslie, thanks for such a good write-up of the adventure you two are having. It's fun reading about what y'all are doing! Love, Aunt Anne
Yeah, I was a pretty good egg with Leslie's horrible cold (about which she was a trooper the likes of which I've never seen...absolutely refused to complain unless pressed, when she was clearly suffering), but Leslie was my disability champion throughout the trip, looking for step-free options, protecting me when I had to climb stairs or when I (once) fell, and never once complaining about the extra time my silly knees cost us.
We made damn good travel partners!
Yayy Leslie and Jenny! I'm getting excited all over again as am just now reading your first blog. You're a good writer. Mama Met would like this.
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