Day The First
Am here and am in sort of state of bewilderment and fuge. The flight was so crowded and loud that I didn't get much sleep despite a cocktail of drugs that should have knocked me out cold at takeoff. I think it was combination of the early flght time and the general pre-trip jitters. Whatever, I only go about 2 hours of actual sleep on the plane. I read, ate, chatted with a lovely seatmate named Michelle and watched bits and pieces of Million Dollar Baby (WHY didn't someone tell me how incredibly depressing that movie is????) and Miss Congenialiy 2 (WHY didn't anyone tell me how lame that one is?). I arrived at Gatwick disoriented and frumpy and a bit sore, but ready for the day ahead.
If you've never been overseas, then you've never had the joy of going through passport control. Hordes of foriegners, many of whome are first time travelers, are forced into gated lines to wait to show their passport and landing cards. They're all tired, hot and frumpy. Many of them don't use deodorant. And, for some reason that after five trips overseas I still don't get, some of them think that the flight attendants hand out those landing cards on the plane as just some sort of suggestion. Like they aren't going to have to actually hand one in when they land, so then they are in a panic in line and trying to juggle 3 pieces of luggage and find a pen and write all while they should be moving along.
I do have to say, going through Gatwick was much less Hellish than Heathrow. It was still humid and yucko, but not nearly so much as Heathrow.
Once you've cleared passport control, you go get luggage. This was amazingly easy for me. I actually saw my suitcase coming 'round the carriage as I approached. I was thrilled to say the least. I added it to the pile on my free trolley (European airports are so ahead of the cheapo US ones) and began to make my way through customs.
Customs? A joke. You walk through a hall. That's it. No people, no dogs, no x-rays. Just like Heathrow. My buggy had a bad wheel and I nearly took out one their barriers. I wonder what sort of reaction that would have triggered?
Once I was through customs, I tried to get cash from the ATM, but both of the two just outside in that terminal were down. I had an instant feeling of dread and then was briefly panicky. What a way to start of the trip. Then I decided to wait and look at the South Terminal where I had to go to catch a train and see if the ATMs were working there before I waited on one of the horrid cash lines. I made my way to the South Terminal via the monorail with little incident. The only mishaps were my buggy and a snarky 13 year old girl who tried to reprimand me for sitting down just as her younger brother was sitting down in the same seat. She appeared to think that the old, fat, invalid chick should give her seat up to the small boy who was jumping all over the place and who was the last on the seat. Needless to say, she was mistaken.
Once in the South Terminal, I found an ATM that worked. I did discover that it would only let me withdraw 100 pounds at a time, but that was more than enough money, so that wasn't a problem. I took my cash and made my way to the Gatwick Express train. Here I ran into my first ooopsey of the day. True Kimmah.
The nextr train was leaving at 8:35. It was 8:30. I thought I could make it--and I could have, if the train hadn't been downstairs. I had to take my suitcase, carryon and bag down a lang fligh of stairs. I was about half way down when the train left. I was irked. And hot. And tired. And very sore. Stairs are the one thing that I'm really, really having a problem with when it comes to my knee. But, I'd looked at the schedule and the next train came soon, so I just kept on going down the stairs, even though I knew it was coming on Platform 1 and I was going to Platform 6. In my head I was thinking I'd just walk across down there.
Yes, Kim will just mosey across five rows of TRAIN TRACKS with her luggage. That makes all the sense in the world.
I realized the error of my ways as soon as I hit the platform. There was no way I was going back UP the stairs, so I looked for the lift. It was where you would expect it--the completely opposite end of the platform, but at least it was level. I made my way down. Went up. Through a hall. Found the lift for Platform 1 and 2. Back down. Thank God. When I finally got there, the train was loading. I lugged my things on and was happy to find a seat and just relax.
The Gatwick Express is a nice way in for future reference. Only about 30 minutes, pleasant ride and they even offer drink service. When we arrived at Victoria Station, I hit the cab queue and realized that I had no idea what time it was. I hoped that the hotel would let me check in. Got a great cabbie. We had a lovely chat and he delivered me to my hotel on Oxford St. The cab ride was £7.40. I over-tipped him because I didn't have change and I was too tired to care. I'd planned on spending £10 and I did. Whoops.
The room was ready and I was so glad. I was absolutely dead by now. Starving, hot and tired. My room is nice, although the bed is incredibly hard and uncomfortable. I'm going to have to get another pillow.
Once I had my room and put a few things down, I set out to find food. Pret A Mange, my fave London lunch place, was right down the road (because it is ALWAYS right down the road no matter where you are in London). I only like one of their sandwiches, though. I'm picky and they pre-make all their stuff. Naturally, they were OUT of what I like. I nearly cried. They said it would be 20 minutes, so I said I'd come back. I took off in search of Marks and Spencer instead. Found it and felt like I'd hit the motherload. I went shopping in the food hall and bought the most delicious sandwich--chicken and bacon. I got some chips, some fruit, some cheese, pasteries, desserts, bottled waters, and then some roasted chicken and rolls. Basically groceries for a few meals. It was divine. I came back and tore into the meal like I'd not eaten a week. I still had no idea what time it was. I turned on the television and it was 11 local time, which meant 5 a.m. at home.
After that, I slept. I didn't mean to, but I couldn't help it. I crashed and burned. I slept until 5. I finally dragged myself up and cleaned up enough to go out. I wanted to go see the National Gallery since it's open late on Wednesdays. I decided to take a bus so I could see the city and get my bearings. Ha! I ended up getting lost because that's what Kim does.
I've been to London four times before this. FOUR. You would think, therefore, that I could find Trafalgar Square when I was on Pall Mall, but nope, I couldn't. I was so lost and turned around that I finally had to ask for help. Then, I was certain that the directions she'd given me were wrong and was was about to just give up in disgust when I stumbled upon the place. How ridiculous. I have no idea where I was or where I thought I was eariler. Obviously, I don't have a map yet. Clearly, I need to purchase one. Will do first thing tomorrow.
The museum was spectacular as it is supposed to be. I wasn't expecting Ruebens to be my favorite artist.
Had a bear of a time finding the right bus to come home on. Am now going to go eat a bite and go to bed early. I'm planning to go to Kensington Palace and the Victoria and Albert Museum tomorrow.
have to go
If you've never been overseas, then you've never had the joy of going through passport control. Hordes of foriegners, many of whome are first time travelers, are forced into gated lines to wait to show their passport and landing cards. They're all tired, hot and frumpy. Many of them don't use deodorant. And, for some reason that after five trips overseas I still don't get, some of them think that the flight attendants hand out those landing cards on the plane as just some sort of suggestion. Like they aren't going to have to actually hand one in when they land, so then they are in a panic in line and trying to juggle 3 pieces of luggage and find a pen and write all while they should be moving along.
I do have to say, going through Gatwick was much less Hellish than Heathrow. It was still humid and yucko, but not nearly so much as Heathrow.
Once you've cleared passport control, you go get luggage. This was amazingly easy for me. I actually saw my suitcase coming 'round the carriage as I approached. I was thrilled to say the least. I added it to the pile on my free trolley (European airports are so ahead of the cheapo US ones) and began to make my way through customs.
Customs? A joke. You walk through a hall. That's it. No people, no dogs, no x-rays. Just like Heathrow. My buggy had a bad wheel and I nearly took out one their barriers. I wonder what sort of reaction that would have triggered?
Once I was through customs, I tried to get cash from the ATM, but both of the two just outside in that terminal were down. I had an instant feeling of dread and then was briefly panicky. What a way to start of the trip. Then I decided to wait and look at the South Terminal where I had to go to catch a train and see if the ATMs were working there before I waited on one of the horrid cash lines. I made my way to the South Terminal via the monorail with little incident. The only mishaps were my buggy and a snarky 13 year old girl who tried to reprimand me for sitting down just as her younger brother was sitting down in the same seat. She appeared to think that the old, fat, invalid chick should give her seat up to the small boy who was jumping all over the place and who was the last on the seat. Needless to say, she was mistaken.
Once in the South Terminal, I found an ATM that worked. I did discover that it would only let me withdraw 100 pounds at a time, but that was more than enough money, so that wasn't a problem. I took my cash and made my way to the Gatwick Express train. Here I ran into my first ooopsey of the day. True Kimmah.
The nextr train was leaving at 8:35. It was 8:30. I thought I could make it--and I could have, if the train hadn't been downstairs. I had to take my suitcase, carryon and bag down a lang fligh of stairs. I was about half way down when the train left. I was irked. And hot. And tired. And very sore. Stairs are the one thing that I'm really, really having a problem with when it comes to my knee. But, I'd looked at the schedule and the next train came soon, so I just kept on going down the stairs, even though I knew it was coming on Platform 1 and I was going to Platform 6. In my head I was thinking I'd just walk across down there.
Yes, Kim will just mosey across five rows of TRAIN TRACKS with her luggage. That makes all the sense in the world.
I realized the error of my ways as soon as I hit the platform. There was no way I was going back UP the stairs, so I looked for the lift. It was where you would expect it--the completely opposite end of the platform, but at least it was level. I made my way down. Went up. Through a hall. Found the lift for Platform 1 and 2. Back down. Thank God. When I finally got there, the train was loading. I lugged my things on and was happy to find a seat and just relax.
The Gatwick Express is a nice way in for future reference. Only about 30 minutes, pleasant ride and they even offer drink service. When we arrived at Victoria Station, I hit the cab queue and realized that I had no idea what time it was. I hoped that the hotel would let me check in. Got a great cabbie. We had a lovely chat and he delivered me to my hotel on Oxford St. The cab ride was £7.40. I over-tipped him because I didn't have change and I was too tired to care. I'd planned on spending £10 and I did. Whoops.
The room was ready and I was so glad. I was absolutely dead by now. Starving, hot and tired. My room is nice, although the bed is incredibly hard and uncomfortable. I'm going to have to get another pillow.
Once I had my room and put a few things down, I set out to find food. Pret A Mange, my fave London lunch place, was right down the road (because it is ALWAYS right down the road no matter where you are in London). I only like one of their sandwiches, though. I'm picky and they pre-make all their stuff. Naturally, they were OUT of what I like. I nearly cried. They said it would be 20 minutes, so I said I'd come back. I took off in search of Marks and Spencer instead. Found it and felt like I'd hit the motherload. I went shopping in the food hall and bought the most delicious sandwich--chicken and bacon. I got some chips, some fruit, some cheese, pasteries, desserts, bottled waters, and then some roasted chicken and rolls. Basically groceries for a few meals. It was divine. I came back and tore into the meal like I'd not eaten a week. I still had no idea what time it was. I turned on the television and it was 11 local time, which meant 5 a.m. at home.
After that, I slept. I didn't mean to, but I couldn't help it. I crashed and burned. I slept until 5. I finally dragged myself up and cleaned up enough to go out. I wanted to go see the National Gallery since it's open late on Wednesdays. I decided to take a bus so I could see the city and get my bearings. Ha! I ended up getting lost because that's what Kim does.
I've been to London four times before this. FOUR. You would think, therefore, that I could find Trafalgar Square when I was on Pall Mall, but nope, I couldn't. I was so lost and turned around that I finally had to ask for help. Then, I was certain that the directions she'd given me were wrong and was was about to just give up in disgust when I stumbled upon the place. How ridiculous. I have no idea where I was or where I thought I was eariler. Obviously, I don't have a map yet. Clearly, I need to purchase one. Will do first thing tomorrow.
The museum was spectacular as it is supposed to be. I wasn't expecting Ruebens to be my favorite artist.
Had a bear of a time finding the right bus to come home on. Am now going to go eat a bite and go to bed early. I'm planning to go to Kensington Palace and the Victoria and Albert Museum tomorrow.
have to go
posted by Kimmah at
3:14 PM
2 Comments:
Hey! Glad you made it! It is scary to think you and I are so much alike in the "getting lost" respect! If we were there together right now, it would most definitely be a case of the blind leading the blind!
Tina
By
Anonymous, at July 06, 2005 4:04 PM
Glad you made it. All is well here. The kids said to tell you hi.
By
Anonymous, at July 06, 2005 4:17 PM
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