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Archive for the 'london' Category
Little Britain is one of my favorite comedy shows. Matt is shown below as his character Vicki Pollard—The english thug equivalent of a Boston Townie 
Little Britain star Matt Lucas today held a civil partnership ceremony with long term boyfriend, television producer Kevin McGee in London.
The gay wedding was a rather formal affair with guests including onscreen partner, David Walliams, gay tv presenter Dale Winton and comic Rob Brydon reportedly wearing suits. (Read more…)
Sphere: Related ContentA TOC for my trip to Europe in May 2006
Chronological
- May 10 2006: Twas the night before Europe…
- May 11 2006: Money makes the world go round…
- May 12 2006: London airport… waiting for Lyon flight
- May 12 2006: My Entry To Lyon
- May 13 2006: Wandering around Lyon FR
- May 14 2006: Day of the show in Lyon FR
- May 14 2006: Seeing Alcina in Lyon FR
- May 15 2006: Lyon FR to Entrecasteaux FR
- May 16 2006: Day 1 in Entrecasteaux FR
- May 17 2006: Day 2 in Entrecasteaux FR
- May 18 2006: Byebye Entrecasteaux FR, Hello Marseille FR, and Goodnight Munich DE
- May 19 2006: Orlando in Munich
- May 20 2006: Munich DE to Dresden DE and Dead Man Walking
- May 21 2006: Dresden DE to Berlin DE
- May 22 2006: Day 1 in Berlin DE
- May 23 2006: Day 2 in Berlin DE
- May 24 2006: Goodbye Berlin DE, Hello London UK
- May 25 2006: Day 1 in London UK
- May 26 2006: Day 2 in London UK
- May 27 2006: Goodbye London UK, Hello San Francisco CA
By category
Lyon FR | Entrecasteaux FR | Munich DE | Dresden DE | Berlin DE | London UK | All Travel Posts
Today was the first time on vacation that I have felt stress, and I didn’t like it one bit. My stress was all about time, and catching planes, and packing, and general travel shit.
When I was with Roy, he was very careful with time. I am almost always the person who Minds The Clock in any given group, but he was actually doing it without complaint. So I let him :)… but on my own, I had to do that, at least for this last day.
I woke up and tried to finish packing… then I had to repack. Then repack again. All I had to take home was a pile of postcards, yet somehow my suitcase was not repacking properly. That was about an hour I hadn’t planned on.
Next, I freaked out and thought I was missing my checkout time. By the time I had my clothes on and suitcase put together I was dripping with sweat. I down to the lobby, checked out, and asked them to hold my bags while I went out for a coffee.
I browsed a few of the yucky souvenir stores, but realized I couldn’t buy anything in them without feeling totally retarded (with one exception: I bought a beer mug with the tube map on it. 1) the tube map is awesome and 2) I needed something to drink beer in since I bought some at a store out of frustration of getting a good one anywhere else).
Then I grabbed a coffee, grabbed my bags, and took off. This involved walking a block to the subway and heading one stop to Paddington where I could catch the Heathrow Express (for which I had a retuirn ticket from my arrival). Once at Paddington, I started to fall apart. There were signs telling me to use specific cars for specific Heathrow terminals, but I had no idea which terminal my plane left from. I forgot to check online.
I tested my phone - once again I had no problem locating a UK service provider, but it still wouldn’t dial. Ditto with internet. And for the first time since I left the US there was not a single internet cafe in eyesight. Grrr.
I hopped on a train that was leaving and crossed my fingers. I made the assumption that given how tourist oriented all of London is, that Terminal 1 would be the primary and international terminal. I got off at the Terminal 1/2/3 stop and headed for 1, which was a leap of faith given that terminal 1 was 500m to the right and terminals 2/3 were 500m to the left. There was no signage whatsoever until after I reached the main floor, and discovered I had guessed right. Yay.
Then, the self checkin worked like it should, the baggage check worked like it should, and getting through security worked like you hope…
I ran into Dan, a fellow Yahoo while waiting to board - on the same flight even. Somehow this didn’t surprise me.
The plane was the same one I flew out on - a 747, which means 3 seats left, 4 seats middle, and 3 seats right. I was on middle row aisle, which was better than any sort of middle situation… even better, when they finally closed down the doors, I nearly started crying with happiness to discover I had no immediate seatmate. I had luxurious shoulder room on either side of me. I was so happy I didn’t even fret when our departure was delayed for an hour or so while they figured out how to make the A/C work, how to close a cargo door, and most exciting, how to start one of the engines.
Finally, we took off. The flight was much more enjoyable than my first, thanks to the extra room, and completely uneventful. I watched several episodes of Babylon 5 on my iPod, napped a few times, and had 2 really tasty mini-bottles of red wine. The food didn’t suck either.
Magically I was literally swept through security and had my checked luggage in hand in about 2 minutes. Out the door to see Mom and Gram there to pick me up.
Home at last. Yay.
My ratings (5 point scale):
- Lyon: **** (4)
- Entrecasteaux: ***** (5)
- Marseille: —– (-5. nuclear bomb plzkthx)
- Munich: ***** (5)
- Dresden: ** (2)
- Berlin: *** (3)
- London: * (1)
I am starting to not like London. And since I am American enough to want to blame someone I will go ahead and Blame Roy 
He told me several times how much he hated London, as in lots and lots. London whores everything out to the highest bidder. It is capitalism gone wrong and out of control. It’s dirty.
I am tending to agree. So much of what I have seen is geared towards tourists. Every 4th shop on any street is one of 2 or 3 chains that deal exclusively in cheap and horrible trinkets covered with the union jack, or princess diana, or mind the gap t-shirts.
Those things which I had hoped to be a bit more authentic are a bit sad and very very dirty. I spent the morning wandering the Portobello Market. The first half is clearly geared to the tourists. Very expensive antique shops, and smaller tent versions of the trinket shops. Finally, you get to fruits and vegetables which obviously target locals, but are yucky compared to the street marche’s in France. Finally you get to the clothing vendorswhere there is a huge matrix of used clothing stalls in a square. Even in the open air, it smelled and felt like a Goodwill store, and the clothing was in bad shape. At the end, it devolves into several blocks of the saddest flea markets I have ever seen, comprised almost entirely of what San Franciscan’s call “groundscores” - trash from the street. Arranged, or sometimes just emptied from boxes onto tarps on the ground. Horrible and depressing, and not anything close to what I imagined the Portobello market to be.
I headed back to my hotel and changed clothes - I have been running around in shorts and minimal tops the entire time. But I thought it was time to sidle up to Harrod’s and head to Harvey Nicks for lunch, sweety darling. I have no timidity in saying that it was fabulous. I didn’t actually bother doing the entirety of either store.
I headed for the food halls of both places because I find the idea of buying food at an upscale department store so utterly bizarre and humorous. Harrod’s is actually sizable, so I just wandered through the chocolate room and got the fat version of a contact high from the smells. Yum.
Then on to Harvey Nicks, where I had a gross beer (5 GBP) and a yummy breaded deep fried bit of veal with a salad (12 GBP). The price of the meal was ok, but the beer was just silly. Especially since it was gross. I haven’t had a good glass of beer since I left Germany, and even then, it was settling. Hefeweisen is ok, but honestly it’s nothing comp-ared to the yummy spicy complex microbrewed ales you can get at any corner store in San Francisco. But the beer here is just gross. It’s funny and sad to see Budweiser being sold as an import. And it’s sadder that most of the beers sold in restaurants seem to be the UK equivalent of Budweiser. Blech.
The only disappointment with Harvey Nicks and Harrod’s was not seeing Edwina or Patsy *anywhere*. Dear Jennifer Saunders: I want to drink your bathwater. Love, Erik. Xoxo.
It was my intention to come back to the hotel to change back to shorts, since I feel like I am suffocating in long pants, but on the way back I just ran smack into the Victoria and Albert museum, which is apparently the largest collection in the world. Not hard to believe. I only did the feature exhibit and it took 3 hours. It was called “Modernism: Designing for the future.” Utterly fantastic and engrossing look at various aspects of design from 1900-1940.
I wandered around South Kensington area for a bit - I had specifically hoped to at least take some snaps of the Royal Albert Hall, since I was too lazy to find a show to see there (actually, they were doing Eric Clapton, which was not entirely my cup of tea)…. but I kept getting lost by 1 or 2 blocks no matter which way I tried to hit it, so I snapped other interesting things and headed back to the hotel.
I intended to go out and get a bit of nightlife, but realized I was utterly exhausted, and a bit tired of travelling. I didn’t even want to go out to eat.
I headed over to Tesco, but got pulled in to a kebab shop that had been utterly packed every time I passed but was miraculously empty at that moment. I had a yummy yummy shawerma and some desserty thing with pistachios… I went back to the hotel, packed, and then vegged in front of the tv. Big Brother (and the associated commentary programs, like “Big Brother’s Big Mouth” are trashy and wonderful.
Sphere: Related ContentToday was all about getting encultured.
I took a tube over to Westminster and took some pics of Parliament and all that jazz. Then I crossed over the bridge and wandered along for a few miles to the Tate Modern. The Tate was neat. The south bank walk was… bleh. It was pretty cold which made for great walking weather for me. Especially since I walked quite fast because there wasn’t much interesting going on.
The architecture doesn’t really excite me after things I have seen in Lyon, Munich, Berlin, and especially Entrecasteaux. The new buildings are safe, tame, uninteresting… they pale in comparison to some of the brilliant stuff you see in Munich and Berlin. The old buildings are not only safe and tame, but not really that old. Entrecasteaux is ancient ancient ancient. And so beautiful.
Finally, all of the stuff that approaches uniqueness is mobbed by tourists. I was forced to wear my Tevas today as I only packed one pair of socks, and those and my shoes got soaked in last night’s walk to Soho and back. I had to be very careful and aggressive to keep my feet protected amongst the crowds.
I got around quite a bit on the tube which was fun and relatively easy… not as easy as Berlin interestingly. Berlin is dead simple. But I also paid more attention to visual clues to get by. Here in London, it’s easier to pay a little less attention, then get surprised by slight differences in language, like “Way out” instead of exit. Makes perfect sense, but it is different and can cause minor disorientation. (The sign below says to me “Don’t do anything. Ever.”)
After the Tate Modern, I wandered over to the National Museum where I wandered for several more hours. They didn’t have the depth of Dutch artists that I enjoyed in Berlin, but they had a fantastically wide array of Big Brand Names. 
All the walking pretty much put me out of commission for the rest of the day. I took a long slow walk back to my hotel, grabbed some dinner, and chilled out for the rest of the evening.
I am in London for the last leg of my trip.
I woke up in Berlin to Roy’s alarms and got up. He had to get up a few hours earlier than I intended to go get instructions on his new flat. We got ready to go together and he took off. It didn’t really hit me till the door shut that I was quite sad about continuing my vacation without him.
He has been a gracious and talented guide, arranging all the details of our hotels or places to stay, spoke the languages of our host countries, and generally knew his way around or could easily figure it out from a map. He also handled all the entertainment details - much of which was High Art ™ and allowed me to rub elbows with the cool people creating it. It was an unbelievable experience and I am eternally grateful.
Anyway, he left and I did a short time later. It was my intention to take public transit all the way to the airport. Seemed easy enough on paper, and especially given how easy the U/S bahn is… I was to take the U to Alexander Platz, then find a bus to the airport. I walked all over Alexanderplatz for 20 min trying to find the bus, and as if by magic no one would speak english with me. At all. No problem when Roy was there, but now I was fucked. I was starting to get sweaty and panicky (though I had given myself an extra 30 minute buffer), so I finally just grabbed a cab. It was almost 20 euros (versus 2 for the bus I wanted to take) but I was able to relax.
At the airport I was able to find the self checkin easily, which they didn’t have on my SF flight out (wtf?!) so I was checked in with about 70min to spare.
I somehow got lucky and was in one of the only rows with an empty middle seat. I hope I don’t have to sit next to an unbelievably fat person on my 9 hour trip back on Saturday.
So… I got to London and decided to get a roundtrip London Express ticket. It’s a super fast train from Heathrow directly to Paddington Station, which is quite near my hotel in Bayswater, above Kensington Gardens. I took a cab from Paddington though I might be able to walk it fairly easily. I will investigate that tomorrow. I am on Inverness Terrace a block away from queensway, which is a decent little shopping area.
My hotel is… a disappointment. The Hyde Park Towers. At 3 stories, not so towering. I knew not to expect much given that it is quite centrally located and was between 70 and 120 pounds per night - much cheaper than anything else offered at Expedia. The internet access is only available in the hotel lobby, and isn’t working right now anyway. While I was asking after it some tiny furious italian queen started berating the desk clerk about the internet access being broken and that being the only reason he chose the hotel. She just kept repeating her party line and smiling. I think he might have had a small stroke.
I got to my room, packed all my dirty clothes in my bag and carried my laptop in its envelope out to find a laundromat and wireless access. The laundromat was pretty easy which made me very happy. The last time I did clothes was in France. Ridiculous. The wireless has been a problem so far. Only internet cafes - connect on someone else’s computer which is irritating and doesn’t allow me to post these blogs. I tried a nearby Starbucks (where I paid only 3.5 pounds for a white choco mocha. aka 6 dollars. heh.) because it had a t-mobile hotspot, and in theory i have an account. It would not let me log in. At all. No info why, which makes me very annoyed. Of course, customer service was one of the reasons i stopped using tmobile as a mobile carrier too.
After laundry I came back and showered. I headed out with the intention of locating the queer neighborhood, but didn’t really make it. I walked along Bayswater Road (along the top of Kensington Gardens/Hyde Park) and continuing west as it turns into Oxford street. I didn’t see much gayness, but saw lots and lots and lots of shops. It’s miles of shopping. Crazy.
It was misting a bit when I started out, but was a torrential downpour by the time I gave up around Berners street. I stopped at some random restaurant to get a hot chocolate and warm up a bit before heading back. The maitre de seated me with no problems, but the waitress threw massive attitude, saying “It’s too busy to just serve you a drink. We don’t do that.” Yay for being back in an english speaking country, as I told her I had no intention of moving out of my seat, and the quicker she brought me my hot chocolate the quicker I would be out of her hair.
Then a quick walk back to Oxford Circus, where I got to experience my first London Tube experience. The signage is actually quite good, esp. given the complexity of the system. I quickly figured out which places I needed to transfer and the number of zones required to get there (just 1)… but the ticket machines were incomprehensible. There was no indication on my machine of which button corresponded to number of zones. I took an educated guess that the top/cheaper fare was a 1 zone, and the lower/more expensive ones would be higher zones, but I still don’t really know. The machines took my tickets without complaining, so I suppose it was fine. I am going to get day passes for tomorrow and Friday, as more than one or two trips justifies the price.
I got off the tube at my stop and went Tesco to get some water, then found an Indian restaurant to grab take out. I came home, ate, and watched a bit of TV. Going to try to get some quick internet in the lobby before bed.
Sphere: Related ContentJesus that was a long flight. Naturally something went wrong with my seat assignment. I got to sit in the middle seat next to an enormous guy. We had passive aggressive fun the entire trip jockeying for shoulder space. To be fair, he was significantly fatter than me, and I was in the middle, so I didn’t feel particularly bad about holding my space.
I don’t know what’s up with my Lyon flight… it’s on the screen but doesn’t have a gat assigned. When it gets to t-minus 60- minutes I’m going to go whine at someone.
Yay for tmobile hotspots. it just started working when I opened my laptop.
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