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| A Clock Tower in North London |
I almost got hit by a bus. It happened so fast that it’s impossible to recreate exactly what transpired. I do know that it was entirely my fault. I was gathering wool and confused by an intersection — simultaneously. The driver broke just in time. He pulled to a stop and gave me what for, concluding with “yeah, you’re very lucky.” I suppose so.
(Note to self: be more careful when crossing streets.)
That moment — for that’s all it was — was a lowlight of the first 24 hours of what I’m calling London Calling 2024. There’ve only been a few others so far. As seems always to be the case when I travel there are WiFi issues. I’m staying at the same Air B&B the missus and I bunked at least year. Lovely place in North London, convenient to lots of things including eateries and transportation of the public variety. But I don’t recall an issue with the WiFi last year. In the booklet the host left there is listed the access server. Funny thing, you can’t find it when trying to log on. No problem, one thinks, for when letting me in and giving me the keys the “host” told me that if there were any problems someone was home “ninety-nine per cent of the time.” I seem to have hit what is a rather long one per cent. It’s been four hours since I last popped up and still no one’s home. A text has to yet be responded to as well. I know I can use my phone as a hotspot and likely will later to post this but that runs into money I already blew a king’s ransom on a cab from Paddington Station to here.
The flight was fine. It did not crash. There were three small children across the aisle including a baby and they made a bit of a racket but I’m not so much bothered by children making noise, although an occasional screech can be a turn off.
The meal was maybe the best I’ve had in-flight which is to say on a scale of one-to-ten it actually achieved a five. Maybe a six. I finished reading a book on the flight and slept pretty much the rest of the way missing breakfast in the bargain. After claiming my luggage (I hate watching a million suitcases go by before mine finally shows up) it was the Heathrow Express to Paddington and the million dollar — er, pound — cab ride.
Unpacked. Went for a stroll. Meandered the aisles of a bookstore as is my want. Found the fancy restaurant where I’m dining tomorrow (Mr. Bigshot here has a reservation). Bought some provisions: cereal, milk, yogurt and the like. Returned to the temporary abode before going out for din din. Or dinner as you sophisticates call it.
Dined at a pub called the King’s Head for the second time in two years. Best fish and chips I’ve had in many moons. A pleasant ambience too.
Surprisingly for London it’s foggy (I know, what are the odds?). But not too cold at all and so far the rain has held off. How long that will continue is not worth thinking about.
Listened to a podcast and made further attempts to get the WiFi issue settled. To no avail. I’ve had WiFi issues in Paris, Bologna, Amsterdam, Berlin and Neptune. The horrors of traveling.
I’m enjoying myself though I miss the wife who’s at home recovering from a broken kneecap (the patella to be specific). Traveling with her can be frustrating at times (mostly for her) but is always a great joy and integral to our wonderful marriage. Originally we were going to be here for a week and then head to presumably sunny Spain for two weeks with a stop in Bordeaux mixed in. Alas. The injury ruined all that. But she insisted I do the first third of the trip especially since I had a very pricey ticket to a football match. So here I am.
Tomorrow I’m planning a trip to the Imperial War Museum and Westminster Abbey and there’s that dinner I have reservations for but not about.
Maybe being on my own will do me some good. I traveled alone a lot when I was a young man. Did me no harm. This time I just have to watch out for busses.
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