Category Archives: England

Activity in these posts occurs in England.

002- “I see London…”

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A little rest and a bite to eat always soften the perspective.  I didn’t get a bite right away, but this is a good time to point out that much of this journal will seem like a search for food.  That’s just my metabolism.  I’m one of those guys who thinks with his stomach 😉 

Monday, 14 May 1984, 8:27 AM, London

Last night after a 3 hour nap, I took a walk around the neighborhood, managing to get lost no less than 3 times. London streets don’t seem to make much sense, but locals are very fast to supply directions– especially the “bobbies” who seemed to be out in force.

At first I went the wrong way to Pimlico.  I got turned around but made it back to Buckingham Palace, where not much happens at 8:30 PM Sunday night. By the time I got on course back to the Aadams Hotel, all the food places had closed, so I went to bed with only an airplane meal in my stomach.

This morning though, after an educational experience using the bathtub, I woofed down an “English” breakfast in the hotel’s basement dining room– 4 pieces of toast and marmalade, a fried egg, a strip of bacon and a gallon of coffee. Wish I had a radio.

Checkout time is 10:30 so I have to pack it up, also have to confirm my flight to Athens– between checkout and flight time I think I’ll be a tourist. HERE I GO– LOOKOUT ENGLAND!!!

12:04PM — On a rest stop on my wondering about tour.

Right now I’m across the Thames from Parliament. A bunch of parachutists just dropped into the river– and I got the pics! They were in some branch of the armed forces.

Parachuters

Random parachuters across from Parliament

Interesting grafitti on the walls along the river: “Thatcher is an old sow”, “Malvinas Argentinas” and it goes on like that.

I understand now why the British keep the countryside so beautiful– because London is smelly, dirty and needs a good cleaning. Not to deny it is also a very dynamic city with many lovely parks. But generally, it seems crowded in the central area, especially with tourists. I refused to watch the changing of the guard. I just can’t stand with 500 camera snapping tourists. It repulses me! Yeech!

3:08PM, Heathrow Airport lounge

Alright, I was hard on London. Smelly and dirty are part of all big cities. London has its more refined sides as well.

I met two girls on the way out of the Aadams Hotel this morning. They were freshly from New Jersey and were tired travelers like me. I told them they might bet a better deal by shopping around or reading “Let’s Go”.

001- Off I go! Jet lag or no

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It wasn’t until I checked into my first hotel on this trip that I put pen to paper and started my journal.  It’s a little stiff at first, but with time I find my stride.  My first impression of London was that it was more like a dismal scene from Dickens than I was expecting.  Things turn around.  Here goes.

Sunday, 13 May 1984 – 2:30PM, London:

What better place to begin this story than Room 6 of the Aadams Hotel, 17 Belgrave Road in London, a story in itself.

London

London- A rather gloomy start to a stunning trip.

I’ve been up about 22 hours, but still feel compelled to start this thing. To catch up, the flight from Los Angeles was alright, lasting 10 hours, all of which time I remained in the upright position due to the broken seat. Traveling companions weren’t too bad. One, an English grad student from USC going home, and the other one a young lady going home to Ireland.

All of the other passengers typified the British terms of “twit” and “mum” as I was surrounded by dozens of grey haired grannies rattling on at length about their “holidays”. The twits were not worth discussing.

On the train in from Gatwick, I was amazed by just about everything I saw. The living quarters of the people are almost exclusively brick, and dirty looking, making it kind of depressing. To make it worse though, each building was almost identical; in uniform rows, with uniform trees, gardens, etc. etc. It reminded me of my fast drive through Philadelphia and Boston– and the excesses of worker housing in the industrial revolution.

Anyway, I’m still confused about which way to look when I cross the street. So far so good. (Until the next day!!!)

I found the Aadams Hotel though a booking service at Victoria Station.  For £15 pounds, I got a room with 2 beds, a sink and some drawers, toilet down the hall, bathtub a bit further. It should be interesting. I had to splurge though because I’m so tired. It’s kind of drafty in this room. I think I turned on the heat– we’ll see. (I didn’t.)

The neighborhood is south of Victoria Station, and I don’t really know what to make of it yet. More later, very tired. (Rows and rows of Georgian town homes.)

A husband and wife team run this place and are very helpful. I just tried to make a phone call and they were a great aid.

British money bugs me. The paper notes are different sizes, £1 being the smallest, and the 50 pence piece is the same size as the 10p. The phone was bizarre too– but kind of fun.