A Slow Day of Wandering (27 January)

Since we were still struggling with our internet access today, we decided to walk over to the library to use the internet for a bit before starting our day. On our way, we came across a wonderful building, which appeared to have been converted from a pub into a few large flats:

The building and its situation at the corner of the block are wonderful and after doing more than our share of peeking in the windows, we moved on.
These signs are strewn around our neighbourhood and I've been meaning to write about them for some time. The first time I saw them, I had no clue what "next match" meant. Now usually football has no impact on my life--except for the year we lived in Toronto during the world cup, at the intersection of the Korean, Italian, and Portuguese neighbourhoods, and in the year that Korea did very well. The noise! The flags! The rivalries! The taxi companies that wouldn't dare come into our neighbourhood on the day of a big game, which happened to be the same day that I had to get to the airport to go to Vancouver to find us an apartment! But here in London, football is once again in my life: since we live relatively close to Arsenal's Emirates Stadium, match days mean traffic jams and parking nightmares. On this particular day, those transportation headaches weren't in our neighbourhood, but numerous matches were being played around London, and we ended up being slowed down everywhere we went. Add to that the usual tube closures on winter weekends and it was definitely a slow-moving day!

After we finished at the library, I noticed another instance of my favourite London sight--a barely legible remnant of an old sign on the side of a brick building:

And after fighting the transportation crowds, we finally ended up at our destination, Sir John Soane's Museum, only to find that a very long queue was persistently growing longer and longer. We were shocked, since we hadn't yet encountered this type of line at any London museum, and had only recently heard of this particular one. Curious but realistic, and mindful of the museum's fast-approaching closing time, we decided to come back another day. We wandered through Green Park,
saw some action at Buckingham Palace,
signed up for library cards at the Chelsea library,
and fought the immense crowds at Harrods for a look at their food hall--which I must say was a bit disappointing in its tackiness, but definitely an experience.
After our wanderings around the West End, we headed back to the East End for a yummy Vietnamese dinner at a packed-out restaurant where every dish coming out of the kitchen looked and smelled better than the last. I wonder what teeny-tiny morsel the price of our delicious dinner would have bought at Harrods?

Coming Soon? (26 January)

Although Bob had previously noticed this sign from the bus, we didn’t walk past to read the details until tonight, one night too late for the meeting:

Oh no! Starbucks in Stoke Newington? Starbucks is planning on opening a new London location every two weeks for the next ten years and it looks like our high street could be on their hitlist. In a way it seems inevitable, but that doesn’t mean that we have to like it.

Pickles and Tomatoes (25 January)

Sometimes you find the best things when you can’t find what you want. Back in Vancouver, Bob and I liked to put relish in our tuna sandwiches, and when I say relish, I mean your standard hot-dog-stand, green, non-fancy relish. Well I searched and searched at Sainsbury’s for plain old green relish, but they don’t seem to carry any amongst the staggering variety of relishes, pickles, and chutneys on offer. But wait—what’s this?

We like beets. We like pickles. So, with the deal sealed by the promise that it would be “delicious in sandwiches,” we bought some and it’s quickly become our favourite condiment, indeed delicious AND pretty in sandwiches. We’ve forgotten all about our green relish. Even when buying the same items as I would back in Vancouver, there are some things here that just strike me as so brilliant, so completely logical that I can’t believe I haven’t seen them in the aisles of Vancouver’s grocery chains. For example:
Tomato paste in a tube—so simple, so perfect. Squeeze out as much as you need, recap, and use more next time. This is very different from the way tomato paste is sold in Canada—in one-size-only cans which are messy (the paste never fully comes out of the tin) and inconvenient (there’s usually either not enough or too much for one use, depending on what you’re making). Our Sainsbury’s tube solves both problems!

Best of Luck (24 January)

Apparently it snowed in London overnight (“Inch of snow causes chaos” was the predictable Evening Standard headline), but the only evidence of it in our neighbourhood was a light dusting that had disappeared by midday. In honour of the continuing cold weather, Bob and I decided to eschew our windy, open destinations of late and check out a few “charity shops,” as thrift stores are known here, between Clapham Common and Wandsworth, in southwest London. Although we didn’t find that elusive chest of drawers that we’re still casually looking for, we did find good buys on some small items and discovered that the area centred on Northcote Road makes for an enjoyable stroll—plenty of foodie shops, restaurants and cafés, a mixture of high-street, independent, and charity shops, and a generally interesting atmosphere. There’s even a street market during which we’ll have to time our next visit. Of course, strolling brings on a need for sustenance, so we stopped at a place with an immensely cute name:

Although we didn’t have their eponymous soft-boiled egg and strips of toast for dipping into the runny yolk, we thoroughly enjoyed our lattés and cookies. We didn’t linger for too long, since we thought we might be running late for our evening activities, so we jumped on a bus heading north across the Thames just in time to see the beautiful sunset.

Our bus actually ended up getting us close to our destination very quickly, so we got off a bit early and wandered through Shepherd Market, a quaint area of winding streets with lovely shops. Around one corner, I noticed a shop that’s long been on my list of places to visit:

We were tempted by everything, but settled for what we usually do when we find a great chocolate shop but aren’t in the mood to spend, spend, spend: we each chose one house chocolate to try—Bob had a dark chocolate truffle and I had a pear ganache. Delicious. And as a nice bonus, there was a dish of samples by the door, so we also each had a dark chocolate nut cluster, which was like getting two chocolates for the price of one. But back on track, we arrived at the Nehru Institute, just off Grosvenor Square, in time to snag good seats for a free talk by film director Ken Loach. Here he is, on the right:
Although we were only familiar with his most recent film, the heartbreakingly wonderful The Wind that Shakes the Barley, Loach’s comments and the accompanying clips from films spanning his forty-year career were fascinating and definitely gave numerous insights into his work. After the talk, there was a reception

at which Bob felt compelled to say something to Loach in response to the latter mentioning during his talk that he had started out, long ago, as a supply teacher. “I just wanted to say that I’ve just started as a London supply teacher and you’ve given me hope,” Bob remarked to the guest of honour, who replied, “Oh well, yes, thank you. It was hard work then; I imagine it’s BLOODY hard work these days. Best of luck!” Now it’s not every day that a Cannes Palme d’Or winner wishes you luck, so suitably heartened, we stepped out into the cold night to head toward home, pick up some groceries, make a late dinner, and get ready for another day in this crazy, ramshackle expanse of a city.

The Centre of Time and Space

Since Bob taught today at a school very close to Greenwich, we decided to meet at Island Gardens DLR station and head to Greenwich from there. This was our first time on the Docklands Light Railway and it was very different from the tube, which made us feel more like we were on Vancouver's Skytrain than a London mode of transportation. Here's a view of the Old Royal Naval College, now the University of Greenwich and Trinity College of Music, across the Thames from Island Gardens station,

and here's the moody sky directly west of the previous photo, just moments later. Clouds threatened all day today, but the furious wind ensured that sun was the order of the day. In other words, it was another cold, blustery, pretty day in London. Tomorrow's forecast is calling for the always-exciting "sleet showers," but we're hoping that'll change . . . After taking in the view, we descended into the Greenwich Foot Tunnel, which runs under the Thames. The entrances to the tunnel, the incredible lifts on either end, and the tunnel itself were straight out of Myst or Alias or your pick of surreal environments. I even half-expected a huge wall of water to come rushing toward us while we frantically found some clever way to survive the torrent. (Okay, I admit we're both starting to miss TV just the teensiest bit!) I wish I could have taken a photo in one of the beautiful lifts, but each lift had an attendant and a large sign prohibiting photography. (On a sidenote, we had to restrain our laughter in the second lift when we realized that our attendant had called the attendant in the north lift while we were ascending, seemingly just to chat. Ah, spare a thought for the lonely lives of the Greenwich foot tunnel attendants.) Here's what we saw when the northern lift's doors opened:
Yikes! And about halfway through our walk, the ceiling looked a bit questionable, but we kept going--what else were we going to do?
In the end, it was a pretty great sensation to walk under the Thames, something that people have been doing since 1902, as the first sign we encountered in Greenwich informed us.

The second sign we saw had a very different message for us:
I don't think I've ever seen the word "itinerant" used on a street sign and I doubt I ever will again. In any case, it was the wrong season for such law-breakers, so we didn't get to witness the consequences of such activities. Safe from illegal ice cream, we ventured onto the Old Royal Naval College grounds to see two of its public rooms, the spectacular Painted Hall
and the Chapel with its impressive 1789 organ.
We left the imposing Christopher Wren buildings
and had a very blustery walk to the top of Greenwich Park, during which I felt as if I were the E.H. Shepard illustration of Piglet walking against the wind brought to life. After what felt like quite a long walk because of the wind, we reached our destination,
whose media-savvy tagline claims it is "the centre of time and space." All the elevation we climbed was worth the view of the Old Royal Navy College and the Canary Wharf skyscrapers beyond: But now down to the purpose of our visit: here's Bob standing on the Prime Meridian!
And in a far less dignified, more touristy pose, here I am with, yes you guessed it, one foot in the eastern hemisphere and one foot in the western hemisphere. Oooh, aaah! The Meridian itself is represented three times in this photo: once in the plaque, again in the metal bar embedded in the pavement and finally in the green laser emitted from above the plaque, travelling some 15km into the London sky. How much more action could you possibly want in a photo?

Hampstead Heath and a Nice Cuppa (22 January)

Even though it was one of the coldest and windiest days we've felt in London so far, we decided to meet at Gospel Oak station again and wander across Hampstead Heath. We found a footbridge very close to the station

that took us directly to the Heath and its wonderful expanse of space. Oddly, one of the first sights we encountered was a trampoline in the distance.
A brave (foolish?) few of us were on the Heath, fighting the wind and enjoying the views.


Like most of London's green spaces that we've visited so far, there is a distinct lack of signage on the Heath and we later realized that we had walked through a substantial part of the park without really knowing it. Luckily, we found familiar ground before the sun set and emerged near Hampstead tube station, thoroughly chilled and hungry for a snack. I remembered the perfect solution to our dilemma: Louis Pâtisserie, a wonderful pastry shop we visited in 2005, and it was just steps from where we were standing, shivering away. For once, I have to heartily disagree with Time Out's assessment of a café; perfect tea, yummy cakes, a thoroughly enjoyable old-school atmosphere, and a nice long sit equipped us to head back out into the biting wind, where we found we had quite a bit of energy. We ended up walking for a while and having a look at the Swiss Cottage Library (part of the Camden borough's library system) before getting on the tube and heading home to make dinner.
The library was a great space with extremely comfy seating (and nicely designed too) in the reading areas; an ample selection of DVDs, books, and magazines; plenty of internet access; and a nice little café, all in a comfortable, airy building. So far I have library cards for the Hackney and Islington libraries, but I'll definitely be back to Swiss Cottage to sign up for Camden libraries too!

Our New-Forest Adventure: Day Two (21 January)

On our second day in Sway, we woke up to a tranquil view from our bedroom window,

and after a hearty hot breakfast once again prepared by Anne, I snapped pictures of her pretty back garden
and the equally idyllic sight in the distance.
Anne’s front garden held a sign of the spring-to-come
and a cute metal carrier for delivered milk, complete with an adjustable arrow to indicate how many bottles you would like on your next delivery.
We headed for Lymington, about 6km away, where we came across a small but charming market that none of us knew would be on today. Although I tried to buy it myself, Anne kindly bought Bob and me a jar of homemade marmalade (lemon and orange) from one of the merchants.


After the market, we wandered around the quaint streets of Lymington,



before ending up at the scenic harbour.



Once again, we saw plenty of ponies from the car:


Alan is an avid cyclist and he wanted to show us a spot along the coast that he found on one of his rides. He said the view from this spot reminded him of the views he had seen in Vancouver when he and Anne visited last year. He was right: we could have been in our old West End Vancouver neighbourhood, out for an afternoon stroll—how unexpected!
Our bus was leaving Southampton in the early afternoon, so we stopped at another lovely pub (which, as with yesterday's pub, had a generous non-smoking section right beside the bar—a rarity in London, at least until July) for a yummy bite before heading to the coach station.
We had a now-familiar view from our table,
and did our best to follow the rules of the house.
Just as we were leaving, I noticed the BEST dog EVER tucked under a chair at a table near the door.
His name was Pipper (he jumped up to be patted when I called his name, and, as with yesterday’s pony, Bob patted him between the eyes) and his owners were very friendly and interested to hear that we were from Canada. We chatted for a bit, mostly with Pipper's owner's elderly mother, who had been told that there was a mountain named after her in Canada and wanted to know if we had heard of it, but unfortunately we hadn’t. Soon after saying goodbye to Pipper, we arrived back at the coach station, thanked Anne and Alan for the wonderful weekend, and boarded our coach. When we arrived back in London and caught the tube and then the bus home, I kept saying to Bob, “Where did all the ponies go?”