10 May – Brussels to London – We did not have to leave the apartment until 11am and our train to England was timed for a 1pm departure so we were afforded a leisurely pack-up. Christine proved just how leisurely it was by falling in to a deep sleep after the packing was done. I sat and watched stuff on BBC News.
The rain seemed to hold off on us but we still caught the bus down the hill to the Metro. Our trip took us to Arts-Loi, to change to get to Gare Midi. Somehow, we got the right train, but going the wrong direction, which became apparent once we hit the end of the line. Fortunately, we had the time to ride the train all the way back through Arts-Loi and go the correct way.
Entry into the Eurostat Terminal is like an airport, with full screening of baggage and body. The difference to the airport is that you still have your luggage with you, it hasn’t been taken away on the conveyor belt, so Christine’s got pulled over when scanning detected a knife. There were no guns or handcuffs involved, just a nice young man who dealt sympathetically with the little old lady with the knife in her luggage. Once she had pulled out all her undies and found the knife in the kitchen bag, we were on our way again.
The train itself is far from the best we have been on. The seats are a little lacking in leg room and don’t recline at all. There was also a lack of USB outlets, although power outlets were available. We had left our adaptors in the main luggage so accessing them would be a pest. The train set off and we were soon out of the city and passing through rolling green farmlands, mostly filled with crops of barley, wheat and canola, much like home, except the total size of each farm was about the same as one paddock around Dowerin. The machinery being used was small too, almost like toy machines. On the plus side, the crops looked to be very healthy and promising an extremely high yield by our standards. We soon crossed the border into France and the train stopped once to pick up more passengers in Lille.
With the English Channel getting close, the train slipped into a tunnel and we spent the next 20 minutes or so underground and underwater. They really should have made a glass channel tunnel. All that could be seen was the occasional flash of light from another train or vehicle. Christine took the opportunity to fall asleep again. When we emerged into daylight again, I woke her to show that we were in England but she just did an eye-roll and went back to sleep. It was left to me to admire the scenery. The landscape did actually change. The fields of crops had gone, to be replaced by fields with sheep a few cattle. The vegetation also seemed to have changed, with more in the way of trees and stands of timber.
In seemingly no time, we were on the outskirts of London and the train began to spend increasingly more time underground. I had roused Christine again and she took it seriously this time. It was a pleasure to be able to read all the signage as we made our way through St Pancras Station and out into the wild. It was another Venice moment when you emerge from the rail station to be greeted with the bedlam of the Grand Canal. Walking out of St Pancras to be greeted by a crush of London cabs and a couple of red double deckers sliding by was surreal. We had actually arrived. Britain has been so much part of our lives through literature, television, friends and relatives that there was almost a sense of “home”. Kings Cross Station is across the road and the Underground was easy to find. We had pre-purchased Oyster Cards for use on London Transport and had a £10 credit, which we topped up with another £10. Then it was on to the tube train, which looked like something from the 1950s. It rattled and banged through the narrow tunnels, sometimes creating a screaming sound that most passengers seemed immune to. I noticed some men reading the newspaper, a sight that I never saw in Europe and rarely see in Perth anymore. It must be a British thing.
We got out at Victoria Station to change for Clapham Junction. We failed to find the right tube, only to discover that we had to take a proper train, which would cost us £4.30 for a short ride across the river. We will need to get a better handle on London transport. We alighted at Clapham Junction and walked the 1.2km to our house on the Shaftesbury Park Estate in Battersby. The area is very pretty. The estate was built in 1874 by a group that wanted to improve the housing conditions of workers and provide them with actual houses. The benevolent group built over 1200 homes in the area, constructed in identical blocks of 10 terraced two storey houses. It was named after Lord Shaftesbury, a prominent campaigner for improved working class housing. The streets are all tree lined and the whole effect is quite striking. Across the road from us is the Shaftesbury Park Primary, a big four storey structure that is very busy in the morning and afternoon.
The Eurostar and our place in Battersea (the corner apartment)
Our host Samantha, was very pleased to see us. She had been messaging us seeking information of our whereabouts because she needed to catch a train to Wales. In our efforts to navigate the Underground, we had missed her messages. After a hasty handover, we were on our own and unpacked, before heading down to the nearest supermarket to pick up a frozen pizza, salad, cereal and, of course, some wine.
11 May – London Eye and Tower Bridge – The first action of the day after breakfast was to walk down to the local Sainsbury Supermarket, which had a bit more choice than the Co-op we had visited the previous night. Here we picked up food for a couple of nights, finding the rule of thumb from Europe still applied, roughly the same price as Perth but Dollars are Pounds (ie double the cost). It doesn’t take long to be lulled by this. You see a pack of four chicken drumsticks for £5.20 and you think, “That’s ok, that’s normal.” Then you realise that the £5.20 is actually $10. Ouch. When you take into account that average earnings here are only about 70% of those in Australia, I am not sure how people manage.
We set off for the London Eye. We had booked a couple of activities in advance, using credits we had through a cancelled hotel stay with Luxury Escapes. We often don’t take a lot of touristy excursions because of the highly inflated prices but it does not seem so bad when you are using credits that must be used in a calendar year and the original hotel stay was bought with Qantas Points anyway. It does not feel the same as shelling out actual cash. The London Eye ticket was for a specific time, 2pm, and access before was not permitted. We spent the waiting time strolling along the river bank, admiring the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben. The crowds were certainly out and about, particularly tour groups and quite a few groups of school aged teenagers, probably on school tours. We ducked into a café for a feed of fish and chips, which proved to live up to the hype that is often afforded to the British staple. We took them outside to eat, but the heavens decided to send down rain in big drops. Along with loads of others, we scuttled inside.
The rain continued unabated until it was time to get on the wheel. Fortunately, the rain drops on the plexiglass did not detract from the experience, which was really amazing. Being able to look down on the surround grand buildings was worth the experience. It takes a full 30 minutes to complete the revolution so there is lots of time to fully appreciate the scenery. Our pod was like all others, full of selfie posing tourists and lots of “oohs and ahhs”. It was most enjoyable and well worth the Qantas Points.
From the London Eye, it was back on a bus and went down river to the Tower Bridge. We got off a stop early to walk the last part along the river and admire the bridge as we approached it. The fact that the Tower of London is adjacent to the bridge makes the scene even more spectacular. I always thought that the Tower Bridge was so named because of its twin tower structures but it is its proximity to the Tower of London that gives it the name.
Once again, we had some tickets to the bridge using Qantas Points, entitling us to climb up to the walkways that span the towers at the top. Christine elected to forego the 290 steps and use the lift while I foolishly decided to take the steps and set my calf muscles on fire. I made it though, happy to pass a number of people much younger than me taking much needed breathers along the way. There is a lot of really interesting information about the building of the bridge laid out along the way and a wonderful film shot in 1906 showing the horse-drawn traffic of the time and the bridge opening. These days, the bridge opens around 85 times a year, mostly to let smaller cruise ships pass. Most of the old docks upstream of the tower bridge are no longer in use.
The walkways provide wonderful views of the surrounding banks and the Tower of London. There are some glass panels set into the floor with a mirrored ceiling so visitors can take some strange but interesting pictures. We laughed at the people lying down on the glass floor trying to capture a special moment. We made our way back down, (going down was easy in comparison) and on to the engine room. In the old days, the bridge was steam driven and the two huge engines have been retained as part of a display.
We caught the bus back home, requiring a change of buses and taking pride that we were starting to master the bus system. The Red Double Decker Buses are so much fun, if one has the time. The Underground is not fun at all. It is noisy and involves a lot of changing tubes and going directions you don’t really want to go. Most regular users shun the upper deck of the bus and so we can usually grab the upper front seats and get a wonderful panoramic view of the route we are travelling on. It is so entertaining. We find almost every district we pass through has a recognisable name, many from Monopoly of course, or some from just our large film and television exposure to London over the years.
12 May – Tower of London etc – Christine mapped out a plan for the day, starting at the Tower of London, and working our way through to Trafalgar Square and Buckingham Palace. Planning trips around the city is an art form, there are so many possibilities. Rarely does the Underground suit our needs, it always involves multiple changes.
We got off the bus just after it crossed London Bridge and took a leisurely walk along the river bank to the Tower. Unfortunately, we were not able to get any tickets from our Qantas Points source for the Tower, so we had to fork out a ghastly £46 ($A90) to go in. We thought about it, but then we might never be back, so in we went. How could the extortionate entry fee be justified? Well, we emerged over 3 hours later, absolutely thrilled with our experience.
The first part of the fortification was the White Tower, built around 1080 by William the Conqueror. Obviously, it has had a lot of upkeep and maintenance over the years and remains in excellent condition compared to many of the castles we have seen. The rest of the large complex was built between 1150 and 1600. Having recently watch the Netflix series White Queen, which used the complex in many of its scenes, added a lot of interest to the tour. There are audio guides and Beefeater tours available, but I really don’t think they are needed, so good is the quality of the self-guided walk around and the informative signage available. Many of the walls have elaborate carvings etched into them, done by poor souls who were incarcerated in the Tower at some point. Elisabeth I seemed to be particularly fond of throwing people in the tower and had a very broad definition of what constituted treason. There is a lot of climbing narrow stairways and narrow passageways but the time passed quickly, each section holding our attention. The weather was up to its usual worst, which helped keep the crowds down and moving through was easy.
After walking the outer walls and rooms, we settled in to the café for a coffee and sausage roll. London has retained the old tradition of having cafeterias, places where you select your own food from a displayed array and pay accordingly. There were full hot meals being served, along with a variety of sandwiches, rolls and snacks. It was good to see the use of porcelain crockery and silverware, rather than horrible single use stuff. We need more of these back in Perth.
Spirits restored, we went through the Crown Jewels display. Having just seen many of the objects in the Coronation ceremony on TV, it was fascinating to see the actual objects. I had always assumed that the real items are hidden away somewhere and the displayed things are fakes but it seems the genuine articles are the ones presented. The display is very well laid out and allows viewers to get up very close, except for a few sheets of glass which I assume are close to unbreakable. Photography is banned, which meant that some people had to experience the terrifying ordeal of putting their phone away. Even more startling than the actual royal regalia, is the huge array of goldware, plates, jugs, bowls and various ornaments, all dazzling in their brilliance. It really is a display of incredible wealth, and rather pointless. Most objects were a gift from some dignitary or country at some stage and probably didn’t have a huge impact on each new monarch when they were presented.
Next it was in to the White Tower itself, four storeys of armoury displays. There were countless suits of armour, many displayed on mannequins astride horseback, the horse too resplendent with their shiny armour. Given that many of the suits of armour on display were from past Kings or Princes, it is unlikely that they had to do much actual protecting, although one display showed how an armour breastplate is little protection against a cannonball. There was a vast array of killing implements on display, with fascinating crossbows, huge heavy swords and early firearms that would probably have missed everything they were fired at.
The final display was the old Royal Mint, in use back when coin making was done by hand, punching impressions onto metal sheeting using a die and a big hammer. We loved everything, but it was time to push on, having already realised that the day’s plans would have to be curtailed.
We caught a bus towards Trafalgar Square. One of our missions was to find a large Post Office. We were carrying £220 that we had held since 2017, and when we tried to spend some of it, we got a knock back, Britain having moved over to the polymer money like Australia in recent years. The first Post Office we found in The Strand couldn’t do it, but they directed us to one in Regent Street, so it was a bit of a game to navigate around on foot and find the next one. Around us, the city was bustling, the crowds on the footpaths heavy and the traffic horrendous. We stopped on the way to admire Trafalgar Square, with its famous lions guarding each corner, and Lord Nelson standing atop the column. It is not only an important monument, but it is a major intersection and crossing the roads around the square takes patience. From the square, Big Ben rears magnificently at the end of Whitehall and the Admiralty Arch leads the way to The Mall and Buckingham Palace.
We located our Post Office and changed our money. By coincidence, the couple next to us were also exchanging old notes, a similar amount, and the cashiers had been in the act of counting a large stack of Australian Dollars.
Done for the day, we found a bus to take us back over the Thames to home, exhausted but well satisfied with our day.
13 May – Westminster Abbey, The Mall, Buckingham Palace, West End, Soho – We planned to fill in some of the things we didn’t have time for yesterday. We set out early, as in 8:30, a time when we are often still getting out of bed. We caught the #87 bus which would take us across the Thames into the Westminster district. As we approached Westminster Abbey, I noticed some street signs talking about transport changes and closures but we ignored them because they were talking about 11am onwards.
We alighted at Westminster Abbey and admired the beauty of the building from the outside. We didn’t go in because (a) it was too early (b) there were no bookings left (c) they wanted a ridiculous fee of £58 a head to see inside. We have better things to do with $A100. I feel sorry for the residents of London who don’t seem to get any cheaper access to many of these places. I am sure their taxes are used in the restoration and maintenance of London’s famous landmarks and should not be charged the terrible amounts that tourists are charged.
We walked through the nearby Parliament Square Garden and admired the statues of significant people that were dotted around. I wondered whether Nelson Mandela would have been thrilled to share a spot with Winston Churchill and Jan Smuts, former Prime Minister of South Africa. From there, we got back on the bus and made our way back to Trafalgar Square. We walked through the Admiralty Arch, which is the portal to The Mall, the beautiful avenue through St James Park to Buckingham Palace, and strolled down The Mall, watching the many workers scurrying around packing away fencing and equipment from the Coronation Parade from the previous week. There seemed to be a lot of police activity too, with cars tearing around, lights flashing and sirens blaring. There always seems to be a police car charging off somewhere. We even saw two cars each with lights flashing pass each other in opposite directions and the cops waved to each other. A very active squirrel caught our attention for a while, scurrying around and up and down nearby trees. He was a brave little fellow because there were a lot of dogs running around off-lead in the parklands.
After a coffee stop in the park, we made our way to the Victoria Memorial in front of the palace and joined the crowds milling around for selfies. The palace itself is actually smaller than I imagined. It is still a lot bigger than any house we have ever owned but the reality is less than the images. We felt the same about the Houses of Parliament, impressive by any standards, but smaller than our expectations. It probably isn’t the building itself that is the attraction, because it is unremarkable compared to a great many others around London, but rather the traditions that lie behind it. The setting is certainly spectacular, St James Park and The Mall providing the perfect approach. Beyond Buckingham Palace, the path leads between the palace gardens and The Green Park, which had become a huge storage area for crowd control equipment and fencing. It looked as though there was at least another week’s work to move everything away.
We walked up to Hyde Park Corner, famous as a place of the orators, although none were in evidence at that time. The tradition that the location was one for free speech comes from its origins as an execution square, where the condemned were given a last chance to say something meaningful. Into Hyde Park itself, we consulted the map and decided to take a stroll down to the Lido, the swimming beach area. The lake, called the Serpentine, is man-made and fed from a number of bores. Although it is filled with swans and ducks, it is a popular swimming spot and was even used for the Olympic Triathlon in 2012. The pathways around the park were quite busy with joggers, walkers, roller bladers and a lot of people who appeared to be in training for cross-country skiing, using strange, elongated roller skates and ski poles. There are horse trails too, with beautifully groomed mounts and equally well groomed riders.
Leaving the park, we got onto a bus and cut back across the city to Piccadilly Circus, where we alighted and wandered along Shaftesbury Avenue soaking up the atmosphere. The crowds had swelled by this time and as we headed down into China Town and through to Leicester Square, the streets were hopping. The fine Saturday weather had brought a lot of people out. The smells issuing forth from the many food shops in China Town made us think of eating, and we scrutinized quite few menus but decided we really just wanted a snack or something small. We pushed on with the walk, through Soho until we found a Marks and Spencer. Pommie friends have often extolled the virtues of the good old M&S, so we took a look around at the clothes on offer. The range was excellent, the prices reasonable for what was good quality, but nothing tempted us. We opted instead for the café and ordered a couple of things encouragingly titled ciabattas, one bacon based and the other omelette filled. It is a good thing we added a side of chips because the ciabatta turned out to be an ordinary bread bun. The bacon was edible but the omelette filling was leathery egg on a bed of chutney, creating a barely edible combination. The chips were yummy. Even though the food was a fail, some things still stood out as standard for Aussie establishments to match. Again, they used washable crockery and cutlery. Secondly, there was a large water container and a stack of glasses for diners to avail themselves of instead of having to buy an overpriced plastic bottle of water.
By this time, we figured we had had enough and located a bus stop for a bus to take us towards Trafalgar to connect to the #87 back to Battersea. We waited for what seemed ljke a ridiculously long time but our number was not forthcoming. We consulted Google maps and made the decision to keep wandering along ourselves to Trafalgar. The square was filled with people carrying banners and placards, most calling for a Free Palestine, but a few calling for a stronger Israel. We skirted the crowds and found a stop a little way down Whitehall. By the time we got there, we realised we had walked close to 10km and we felt it. The same thing happened. No buses came at all. There were a few other people at the stand but they slowly drifted away. Glancing up the road to Trafalgar, we noticed a steady stream of buses going around, with nothing turning down Whitehall. Looking the other way down to Parliament Square, we could see all the police cars and road closure signs. Then, we remembered the notices about service disruption we had seen earlier. There was also a big protest down at Parliament Square, so the buses had obviously found an alternative route. We relocated to another stop on the #87 route before Trafalgar Square, but still nothing. Finally, we headed into Charing Cross Underground and caught a train to Vauxhall, so we could catch a bus back home. We arrived home, quite shattered and having clocked up 12.5km. We were tired, but very well content with the day.
14 May – Battersea Park – We needed a day of rest, so we spent the morning doing little , other than catching up on a few jobs and booking a few future rail tickets, along with the all important research into travel options. It is a big job, because nothing is simple. On the continent, there tends to be one rail option to compare with Flixbus as the coach option. Here, there are multiple rail companies and many forms of ticket and the coach options are limited. The travel planning sites like Rome2Rio and Google, become unreliable when there are so many options and can be quite misleading. Sometimes, with two of us working, it is like a bidding war. “I have a train with 2 changes for £38 each.” Followed by “I can do a £30 with only one change but an hour’s wait in between.” We may not always get the best deal but we don’t give in easily.
Outside, the sun shone beautifully and things looked wonderful. We noticed on Google Maps that there was a car boot sale of antiques and bric-a-brac nearby every Sunday so we set off to have a look. It meant crossing the rail lines, via a long overhead bridge to get over the South Western line followed by a tunnel to get under the local train. The car boot sale proved to be a non-starter because they wanted £2 each just to get in and it looked like there were no more than 20 cars, so we gave it a miss and walked a short distance to Battersea Park. The lovely weather had brought everyone out. There were a couple of cricket matches going and hordes of people just soaking up the sun, or exercising in some form. We sat for a while and watched one of the cricket matches. The guys took it seriously and they looked the part replendent in their whites, but the standard was pretty poor. The bowling lacked any form of threat and the batsmen declined the opportunity to put the ball over the boundary. It didn’t matter, because they were all enjoying themselves, including the square-leg umpire, who had a stubby to keep him lubricated. The park is beautiful, and quite large, extending through to the river, with Albert Bridge at one end and Chelsea Bridge at the other. The lure of an “English Garden” area attracted us but it looked more like an Aussie garden overgrown with weeds. One of the things we have noticed is that many of the plants here are what we call weeds back home. It’s what happens when you take a plant from its natural environment and it likes its new surroundings more.
Battersea Park
Back home, we headed for a lie down, a rarity of late, and watched Sam Kerr and the Chelsea girls take out the Women’s FA Cup Final. There is so much more we could have done in London. The possibilities are endless. We didn’t even get to do the Abbey Road Crosswalk. Tomorrow, we head to Wiltshire, and a quieter life.
The landscape changed very slowly as we drove inland, mainly due to fewer canals. There was little indication that we had crossed the border and entered Belgium but a few tiny hillocks started to appear and there were a few actual forests dotted around. We dropped off some passengers in Antwerp before heading to Brussels and the Gard Noord, or Northern Station. What a change from Utrecht. Admittedly, Gard Noord seems to be in the throes of an overhaul but it was a dump. We had to lug our bags up a massive flight of steps because there are no escalators or lifts that we could find. We struggled with the ticketing process before asking for help from a group of three young people standing nearby. The girl turned out to be a Melbournian currently living in Berlin, the other two from Brussels. I told one guy where we wanted to go and he suggested platform 5 would do it. I asked him about buying a ticket and he said that because we were so close to the centre of town we should ignore it, no one would check. Once at Gare du Midi, we would have to get a ticket for the Metro to our final destination. We thanked them and got on the train on Platform 5, right alongside a uniformed official. We were terrified she was going to ask for a ticket the way they do in Germany but she wasn’t interested. Finally, after alighting at Gare du Midi and finding the Metro, working out the ticket system and getting on a subway, we were bound for our destination in Audeghem, a suburb of Brussels. The apartment proved to be just as described, with one thing left out. Nowhere did it say that it was near the top of Square du Sacre-Coeur, not as steep as its famous namesake in Paris, but still a long steady hill climb towing our luggage behind. Belgium is one of the Low-Countries. There aren’t supposed to be hills. We arrived, greeted by our host, unpacked and only ventured a short distance to a small grocery shop to get some eggs for dinner and alcohol to sooth the soul.
Rotterdam was heavily bombed by the Germans in March 1940 to force the Dutch into submission. The destruction was so great that little remained of the old city, hence the difference to other Dutch cities. We walked through the city to Binnenrotte Square, a huge plaza created in 1993 after a railway viaduct was replaced with a tunnel, creating a large space above. On one side is one of the few remnants of pre-war Rotterdam, St Lawrence Church, originally built in 1552 and reconstructed after the bombing. Inside, the towering vaulted ceiling seemed impossibly high and the structure was very grand, even though it lacked the opulence of the Catholic Cathedrals.
After lunch, we set out again to follow the crowds up towards the cathedral. The crowds had now swollen enormously, not just soccer fans, but large groups of locals who seem to come to the city on a Saturday and walk or buy lunch. Near the Central Station and cathedral, the crowd became almost difficult to move through. There were hens party groups in tutus, bucks party groups downing copious beers, tour groups from the many river cruise ships and family groups out and about, all heavily rugged up of course.
We continued the walk to Cologne Deutz Mess Station and caught the tram home, well content with a lovely day in the sunshine. With an early start planned for the next day’s move to the Netherlands, we started the process of packing. Cologne has been well worth the visit.
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