An early morning in London today, this time it was voluntary. JP and I headed to our free breakfast, which consisted of bread, ham, cheese, jam, and cereal. After seeing what was available I couldn't figure out why the line was so long. It wasn't until I was near the front that I realized everyone was holding up the line to wait for the toaster. All this standing and waiting early in the morning because nobody wanted to eat raw bread.
With our carbtastic meal completed it was off to find our tour bus. We purchased tickets online for a guided bus tour of London that included a boat cruise down the Thames. It was a very cold day. Cold enough that I immediately unpacked my winter coat and scarf upon exiting the hostel. If I wasn't living on the top floor I would have gone back in for my hat, gloves, and heavy sweatshirt but only an extreme cold would have me making that trek again.
First we took the bus to the London Eye, having seen the Tower yesterday, only to find that it was a sea of people waiting in line. What for? I couldn't tell you exactly. Some were waiting to buy tickets for all kinds of things. We finally found the right line to buy tickets, after having waited in the wrong line, only to find that it was at least 100 people deep. This doesn't include the massive line to actually get on the damn Ferris wheel. In the interest of time we decided to hop back on the bus and see what else awaited us.
The views of Big Ben though were amazing. It is hard to see just how gold it is in photos. I can see now why people are fixated on it as the symbol of London.
So back on the bus we saw Trafalgar Square, Buckingham Palace, and lots of other landmarks. It was nice to have the opportunity to see so much with so little effort.
Our next stop off of the bus was Harrods department store. It was something my mother had recommended and I didn't really understand why. It's a department store, similar to Macy's in herald square back home so why all the fuss? To be honest I went more out of obligation than curiosity. Walking through the doors, however, I finally understood why she had been so insistent. Harrods is truly the shopaholic's dream. I don't think there was anything they didn't sell there and everything was more beautiful (or delicious) looking than the next.
We explored the entire first floor then took the lift to the third and the escalator back down to the first. There was enchanting music coming from the escalators. JP and I assumed it was fancy elevator music. Instead of speakers, however, we found a middle aged woman in a red gown standing on a balcony singing her heart out.
I wound up picking up all my gifts, and lunch, for quite a pretty penny. Dragging my bag we headed back to the bus where I went upstairs to eat in the frigid air. The Harrod's sandwich was easily one of the top five sandwiches I've eaten in my lifetime. My only regret was that I only had one. Even with the strange mayo sauce I ate every bit of it.
As soon as I finished my glorious sandwich I returned to the lower deck of the bus where it was nice and warm. The warmth and soothing rocking of the bus promptly put me to sleep.
When I finally roused we were in a new part of town. We saw where the war rooms are and where famous writers lived. All well and good but we were more interested in making the river cruise. The bus got us back to Tower bridge and we made the second to last ferry to Greenwich, home of Greenwich meantime and where east meets west (zero longitude).
Had I known it would be so charming I may have opted to spend an entire there than just an hour. Greenwich seemed like a warm European town, dotted with shops and pubs at every turn. We stopped in a sweet shop and I got a bar of English toffee.
Before now I have had no experience with bars of English toffee. I've enjoyed the candy before but did not expect the struggle that ensued. First I couldn't separate one brick from the rest of the bar. Then when I finally did get it apart it was a chunk of four bricks, just small enough to fit in my mouth. The struggle was worth it. In return for nearly taking out my filings and breaking my teeth I got the warm buttery sugar rush I was looking for.
After the cruise ride back, and the trek again from Tower bridge back to the hostel I realized that Sundays in London are a bit special. Like how I imagine times to be when my grandmother would talk about things being closed on Sundays. First we couldn't buy anything before noon because of the local laws and then we realized that the supermarket across from our hostel, as well as a lot of other shops, would close in a few minutes at 6pm. Thankfully I found a Cornwall pasty shop (like British empanadas) on my way back after striking out at the only open supermarket (who did not sell any sandwiches without mayo). The pasties were delish but not enough to count for dinner.
With so few places open I suggested we head to the Tapas place we saw, and the one I'm thinking was the same one Cool Uncle Jerry suggested. The meal was expensive and fancy, and there was a bit of a wait for a table, but the dishes were exquisite. JP even had a chance to try (accidentally) blood pudding, just as we concluded a discussion on what weird English thing could he eat to fulfill his travel goal of trying different local cuisine. The tiny sausage looked like the photos I'd seen of blood pudding but I didn't say anything, even after he cut into it and it spewed out brown goo. I don't think JP enjoyed it (and I didn't dare try it) but at least he can say he ate something unusual.
With tapas done I found myself completely wiped out. Maybe it was all the air and walking but bed is calling my name.
Good thing too. We've got an early train to York tomorrow!
I enjoyed reading yyour post
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