"Do you like London?" I asked my London-born hubby.
He shrugged helplessly. He doesn't know; he's never given it any thought. It's just London: though it keeps changing, it's familiar -- for better and for worse. He doesn't think of it as a tourist destination; he comes to see family and friends. If it were up to him, he probably wouldn't set foot in a single shop. He'd just buy a few staples in the duty-free on the way out. You know -- essential stuff like Cheddar, Stilton, Cadbury's, and good Irish whiskey.
But I go ga-ga over London, and over the UK in general.
We've always stayed with family or friends; or, in recent years -- in a small place in SE London. This time, for the first time ever, we actually booked a hotel in the center of town, and went gallavanting around for hours and hours. My head was spinning. There was a constant buzz all around me: the endless stream motor vehicle and human traffic; the sounds, sights, smells -- everything was overwhelming in a wonderful sort of way. After only 24 hours in town, I felt as if I'd accomplished a lot... a lot of window-shopping and people-gazing, that's for sure. The shops are full of a huge selection of everything I always want when I'm in London and everything I always try to convince myself not to want: alluring toiletries and cosmetics at Boots, clothes at Gap, shoes at Ecco, books & notebooks at WHSmith...
The hotel we stayed at was the Danibius Regents Park, overlooking Lord's Cricket Ground (which means a lot to some people). And we knew nothing about it when we booked. Imagine my surprise when, upon going down to breakfast, I found myself surrounded by Moslems. We live in Israel, a small country surrounded by Arab countries, and you'd think I'd be accustomed to being surrounded by Moslems. Well, I'm not. Mostly it was the burka-wearing, head-to-toe covered women who stood out. As we soon realized, the hotel was a stone's throw away from London's Central Mosque , and the time was a couple of days before a major Moslem holiday -- Eid Ul Adha. And indeed, on that special day hundreds of people flocked to the Mosque.
The hotel was pleasant and comfortable, falling short of "wonderful". But, to be fair, I think its target clientelle is business people, not vacationers. Among other travellers, it caters to airline personnel. Why, if it weren't for the hotel's affiliation with BA, and the fact that we could utilize our BA "points", we wouldn't have considered staying there.
The hotel's pride and joy, it seems, is its restaurant, called Minsky's New York Deli, which I took to be homage to a NYC establishment by that name. Can any New Yorker confirm?
I didn't care much for the subdued lighting, especially at breakfast time. But in the evening, and particularly on the evening of our wedding anniversary, it seemed very apt. Even apter was the musical trio, who played Cheek to Cheek at my request, bless them;
Time to catch a train. Additional notes and musings about London, Devon, and Lancs in my next posts.
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Saturday, October 12, 2013
Back on track: I'm off to see the wizard
At long last, I'm back on track!
After about 6 months of being stuck at home and having to cancel trips, I'm once again packing my suitcase and backpack, including hat-gloves-scarves-umbrella, my prescription pain meds, and spiral notebook for taking notes (duh!).
What does all this have to do with the wizard? Surely I'm not going to Oz.
Well, not exactly.
See, the last trip I wrote about in this-here blog concerned going to hospital. Unfortunately, the surgery I underwent didn't turn out as planned. Complications ensued, time went by, and I was still unfit to travel. And so, with heavy heart, we had to cancel our trip to Canada. The plan was to attend our daughter's convocation ceremony at U of T, where she'd studied Landscape Architecture ; spend a few days with Daughter and other family members in Toronto; then rent a car and go driving to Quebec City, and down through beautiful countryside of Maine etc as far as NJ and MD to see my cousins. Imagine our disappointment when these plans fell through.
Fast-forward to a few months later. Strong painkillers, plenty of physiotherapy & exercise, lots of support and encouragement from family and friends, plus sheer determination seem to have worked. At least enough for us to consider foreign travel once again. Sensing that I was still a bit worried, my therapist said: "My own doctor once told me that he knows of a magic cure. It's called Passport Control".
Hence the idea of going to see the wizard. I shall meet him or her in a few hours. My passport will be stamped, and off to the Duty Free I shall march, to look at L'Occitane's latest collection -- the exquisitely designed Collection de Grasse; then to the BA Lounge where I can eat and relax until takeoff time.
Shucks! I just remembered! My wizard may be a machine. I often use the biometric system to get through passport control. Never mind -- as long as I emerge safely at the other side! And as for L'Occitane -- their prices are high, and I haven't smelled any of the new collection yet, so who knows. Maybe I'll save my dough for Boots or The Body Shop.
Back to what really matters: the trip. First few days in the heart of London, seeing family and doing touristy things; then by train to cousins in Delightful Devon (even grey skies and drizzle won't spoil our delight); then another train to cousins in a godforsaken little village in Lancashire, which will doubtlessly be an adventure; our hosts are no longer in the village where we got lost last time, so we get another chance at getting lost elsewhere :-) From there, on to a couple of days in York, which we last visited in 1982. And back to London for a couple of days before catching our flight back home.
Of course, there should be lots of interesting things along the way. About which I hope to write and post in this blog, if I have the time and energy. No camera this time -- only my smartphone; it had better not let me down, or else! (Or else what? I'll replace it with another smartphone? Empty threats are so pathetic.)
Ta-ta for now. Or as we say in Hebrew: L'hitra'ot להתראות . Don't bother with Google Translate. It means ciao, au revoir, be seeing you, etc.
After about 6 months of being stuck at home and having to cancel trips, I'm once again packing my suitcase and backpack, including hat-gloves-scarves-umbrella, my prescription pain meds, and spiral notebook for taking notes (duh!).
What does all this have to do with the wizard? Surely I'm not going to Oz.
Well, not exactly.
See, the last trip I wrote about in this-here blog concerned going to hospital. Unfortunately, the surgery I underwent didn't turn out as planned. Complications ensued, time went by, and I was still unfit to travel. And so, with heavy heart, we had to cancel our trip to Canada. The plan was to attend our daughter's convocation ceremony at U of T, where she'd studied Landscape Architecture ; spend a few days with Daughter and other family members in Toronto; then rent a car and go driving to Quebec City, and down through beautiful countryside of Maine etc as far as NJ and MD to see my cousins. Imagine our disappointment when these plans fell through.
Fast-forward to a few months later. Strong painkillers, plenty of physiotherapy & exercise, lots of support and encouragement from family and friends, plus sheer determination seem to have worked. At least enough for us to consider foreign travel once again. Sensing that I was still a bit worried, my therapist said: "My own doctor once told me that he knows of a magic cure. It's called Passport Control".
Hence the idea of going to see the wizard. I shall meet him or her in a few hours. My passport will be stamped, and off to the Duty Free I shall march, to look at L'Occitane's latest collection -- the exquisitely designed Collection de Grasse; then to the BA Lounge where I can eat and relax until takeoff time.
Shucks! I just remembered! My wizard may be a machine. I often use the biometric system to get through passport control. Never mind -- as long as I emerge safely at the other side! And as for L'Occitane -- their prices are high, and I haven't smelled any of the new collection yet, so who knows. Maybe I'll save my dough for Boots or The Body Shop.
Back to what really matters: the trip. First few days in the heart of London, seeing family and doing touristy things; then by train to cousins in Delightful Devon (even grey skies and drizzle won't spoil our delight); then another train to cousins in a godforsaken little village in Lancashire, which will doubtlessly be an adventure; our hosts are no longer in the village where we got lost last time, so we get another chance at getting lost elsewhere :-) From there, on to a couple of days in York, which we last visited in 1982. And back to London for a couple of days before catching our flight back home.
Of course, there should be lots of interesting things along the way. About which I hope to write and post in this blog, if I have the time and energy. No camera this time -- only my smartphone; it had better not let me down, or else! (Or else what? I'll replace it with another smartphone? Empty threats are so pathetic.)
Ta-ta for now. Or as we say in Hebrew: L'hitra'ot להתראות . Don't bother with Google Translate. It means ciao, au revoir, be seeing you, etc.
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