22 May 2014 (mostly sunny and warm, some rain)

Had a good sleep at Hotel Xanadu but it could have been longer. We must have hit the hay at about 10.30 pm last night but we were bright-eyed and bushy tailed at 5am. Never mind it gave us plenty of time to write about the events of the past 24 hours, download and edit photos before going to find a café with wifi as we’re having trouble connecting to the hotel’s.  Checked our messages and uploaded our latest blog post before walking to Steve’s place at 10 am. 

We walked to the train station and had about a half hour ride into Westminster.  Steve had obviously thought about the Wow factor for two architecturally starved kiwis who hadn’t been to London for 25 years and picked the most impressive place to emerge from the underground, right under Big Ben.  In true tourist fashion I whipped out my camera and held up the traffic on the footpath to get my first of many photos.

Small Steve, Puny Pete and Big Ben - there's always
one show-off!

We had a wonderful day to wander round London, with lots of sunshine and about an hour of rain which enforced a longer stay at the National Gallery than I had hoped for. It was impressive though I have to admit and I recognised a lot of the artwork and artists – not bad for a self-confessed under appreciator of art.  Mind you it’s hard to get to fifty years of age and not to have heard of Monet, van Gogh, Cezanne, Gauguin, Constable, Turner etc. I have to admit to being more awestruck by the building itself and the incredible interior décor.  The wallpaper must have cost a fortune.  It was very crowded in there though and I can see a time coming where they will have to start charging an entry fee just to keep the numbers down.

Steve did incredibly well hobbling round and showing the sights and having lived here now for 18 years just takes all the wonderful architecture in his stride and our enthusiasm renewed his own appreciation of the place he calls home.  Both Pete and myself agreed that London seemed a lot cleaner than 25 years ago.  All the buildings have been scrubbed up for sure and I look forward to comparing our new photos with our old ones when we get back.  A worthy capital city indeed and one the English should feel very proud of.

The only disappointment of the day was when we walked round to Victoria Station to go and have a drink in the pub Pete used to work at called the Duke of York, and found it in the process of being knocked down.  The whole area is undergoing a huge transformation not due to be completed for another four years!

We finished the day with a pub dinner about 6pm and then caught the train back to Ealing at about 8.30pm.  Good job Pete and Steve were there to keep me awake or I could have ended up anywhere. By the time we got back to Xanadu we were both absolutely shattered and went to bed at 9.15pm.

Pete's blog

Up very early this morning ( thanks jet lag ) and after talking about the previous days happenings, watching some breakfast television ( to catch up with the latest news and weather ) shaving and showering, we wandered into Ealing and a café we had been to the day before (Bills ? ! ) where we sat using the tablet to jot down our thoughts and checking out a cycling Britain book we’ve had for a while, to look at possible route options for when we leave in a couple of days time.

Met Steve at his place at 10 ish and caught the train from Ealing Common into London.

Emerged at Westminster station directly underneath  Big Ben and the houses of Parliament. What a majestic sight ! Even someone who had no interest in anything at all or was brain dead, could fail to be impressed with what stands in front of you. Though I lived and worked in London (Victoria ) just down the road, some 30 years ago, I had forgotten just how powerful these buildings are.

By this time it was pushing 11 am and time for some food. Into a good old fashioned pub called St Stephen's Tavern where we enjoyed a hearty English breakfast and a pint of ale my good man. Actually it was a pint of guiness.

 From here it was a trip down Whitehall, the seat of government (where something was taking place )  as the road was closed in parts, and officials vehicles were parked in the middle of the road. Up and into Trafalgar Square and Nelsons column, with the man himself perched high on top and memories of childhood history lessons came flooding back.

Onto Picadilly Circus, still admiring everything we encountered  and impressed with how clean this huge city is. From my time here I can remember the soot laden buildings, as black as coal. No more. They are white solid structures, which stand proud amongst there newer counterparts. London is an old city, which has been able to combine the older architecture with the new and has done it in style.

The dog shit laden footpaths, so prevalent in the seventies and eighties, swapped for clean walkways with street cleaners never too far away. Boris’s bikes, a scheme to provide the public with bikes to ride throughout London, are parked in racks everywhere and are well utilised. Decided to venture into the National Gallery. Not generally Julia's cup of tea, but she did exceptionally well.  Julia appreciates many fine works of art ( that's why she married me).

We spent  good couple of hours admiring fine artworks. Not all, I may add. Some, in this art critics opinion, are a load of shit !  But that is the beauty of an opinion, they all vary.

Canaletto, Degas,  Stubbs, Renoir, Constable, Turner, all kept my attention as we wandered the great halls. Crossing the Thames we ventured past the London Eye. Strangely enough, we didn’t feel inclined to climb aboard for a birds eye view of the city. We were quite happy to bask in the streets and alleyways. Along to St. James’s park where I used to walk my bosses two well trained Alsations. They would come to a pedestrian crossing outside Horseguards Parade and sit. Only when the buzzer went and they looked at me for confirmation, would they move. This caused great interest for the masses of tourists and created quite a talking point. Also a great way to meet women !

Outside the gates of Buckingham Palace we took the usual tourist shots and then wandered along to show Julia and Steve where I used to work. Couldn’t pin point where it was and thought I was going crazy, until we found it, halfway through being demolished, tucked behind scaffolding, one of many buildings in the area to make way for a more modern London.

The Duke of York pub is no more. Long live the Duke of York. Around the corner at The Shakespeare pub I  sat in a daze and thought of days gone by. Times I hadn’t rehashed for thirty years. Down into Victoria tube station for the ride home. It had been a great day and we had only seen a small area of a place I had once wandered aimlessly around, walkman blaring in my ears to the sounds of Level 42 and A flock of Seagulls and Psychedelic Furs. Julia was falling asleep due to our very early start (or my repeated memories ) and it was with relief that we reached the hotel and hit the sack by 9.15pm.