I return to my hotel via the Jubilee Bridge and the river walk along the south bank of the Thames. This area is fascinating also, with its concert halls, theatres, al fresco restaurants plus bike riders, pram pushers, jugglers, artists, other street entertainers and smart-ass beggars. In spite of my weariness I enjoy every step of the way.
I decide to eat at the pub in my hotel. I quickly down a pint of beer, order another along with a steak, ale and mushroom pie, which turns out to be the best meat pie I've had since I arrived in England. I can hardly keep my eyes open so I retire to my room and fall asleep with an open book on my chest. It has been a full day.
This is my last day in Northern England. Not so amazingly, considering how we've been eating, I had a reflux attack last night. I think it was the rich fresh strawberry dessert, I had after dinner. Nevertheless it was worth it.
I say goodbye to Larry and Tom. Larry's headed for Manchester and his flight back to the U.S. Tom has an extra day and was going to spend it in Carlisle but at the last minute, they cancelled his room. Time for his Plan B which I believe is to spend the night in Newcastle. We agree to consider doing something together next summer. Larry and Tom take off. I've got a later train so I relax, shower and re-pack. Since it is raining, I have the B & B lady call a taxi for me to take to the train station.
I'm about two hours early for my train so I look for the baggage check place. No such place in this station. I can't go too far with my 70 pound duffle and 20 pound backpack so I head for the nearest restaurant, which is Mexican. Based on a lifelong rule to never order Mexican food outside of Mexico or the American Southwest, I get a Coke Light. The owners are very friendly and allow me to leave my duffle for an hour or so. I almost feel guilty but not guilty enough to order a taco. I check in at the internet place, delete some spam and poof an hour has gone by.
As the train pulls in I look for my car. I have a seat reservation on the train and it's in car J. I can't find a car J. There are plenty of empty seats in first class so I just pick one for the three and one-half hour trip to London. It's a lovely trip. Food and drink is complimentary. The scenery is mostly green and I read and nap all the way to London's Euston Station. Since the Eurostar to Paris, which I am taking tomorrow, leaves from Waterloo Station, I have made a reservation at the Mad Hatter Hotel, only "four minutes from Waterloo station" to quote their ad on the Internet. This means with I must get to Waterloo Station with my 90 pounds of stuff. I take the Underground and struggle up and down the user-unfriendly stairs in both stations.
I am lost when I get to Waterloo Station and cannot figure out which exit I should take to get to the Mad Hatter. Additionally, there is a Waterloo International Station and a Waterloo East Station, all of which are connected to the Waterloo Main Station. There is no TI booth in the station so I try the South West Trains Information Booth. In the past I've always had bad luck with railroad company information people who, understandably, only want to give information related to their trains but this guy is great. He spends 5 minutes with me, gives me a map and explains in great detail how I must go down an elevator, through an underpass, walk by the Imax theatre and lastly go up some stairs to get to the street the hotel is on. I would have never been able to figure it out on my own.
I start out for the hotel and I soon realize that it is going to take me a lot longer than 5 minutes to reach the Mad Hatter. Perhaps this is a 30 minute five minutes. To worsen matters, I develop a blister on my left foot. What irony, I've been walking in these shoes for over a week and on a short trip from the station to my hotel, I develop a blister. The Gods must be angry.
I do reach the hotel in a little over 20 minutes. I am exhausted when I check in. I treat my blister and take a short rest before going out to explore the neighborhood for a few hours. After consulting my guru, Rick Steves' guidebook, I decide to walk to "The London Eye." The relatively new but already famous British Airways sponsored huge Ferris wheel with its 32 fully enclosed capsules. Unfortunately Rick's assurances of easy access are far too optimistic and it looks to me like a two or three hour wait. No way! Next time I'll make reservations on their web site.
I am up early and excited about meeting Pam in Paris and also riding the Eurostar for the first time. I walk to the station in a light rain which actually reminds me I'm still in England. The Waterloo International Station is a madhouse. I manage to grab a coffee and a roll while waiting for the check-in lines to shorten. This is a miscalculation on my part. The lines only get longer. It's Sunday morning in the middle of the summer. I ask myself, "What did you expect?" I answer, "Not this much of a madhouse."
I decide to see if I can by-pass the lines by checking in electronically. Wrong! I stand in a madhouse of a check-in line. I go through the madhouse of Immigration. I wait in the madhouse of a waiting area where there are not even close to enough chairs to sit on. I stand in the madhouse of a line waiting for the boarding call. Wait; there are two lines depending on whether you are in the front or the back of the train. I'm in the wrong line. I change lines. The boarding doors open. Both lines merge so I'm now at the end of both lines. I give up and take a now empty seat. After a while I get at the end of the line(s) and finally reach my assigned car, board, deposit my luggage on top of everyone else's and find my seat. It's a single, thanks be to the seat reservation gods. I need a drink. This is worse than the average airport but at least I'm on my way.
The ride is very enjoyable with good food, good beer and wine, good service, and the exciting feeling of traveling on land at 250 kilometers per hour in a relatively noiseless, relatively vibration-free atmosphere. In retrospect, it is better than struggling to get to and from airports and while the hassle is similar, the rewards make it worthwhile. It's impossible to see what we are passing because we are going so fast. The only way to observe the scenery is to fix my gaze into the distance.
(continued)
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