Trains, Dames, and Automobiles. The final day.

Off to town!

Monday morning came bright and early at Margaret’s house at around 7.30am.  Vivienne was nowhere to be found, and the smell of stinky dog had also been successfully banished from the house.  The four of us sat bleary eyed at the breakfast table and talked about plans for the day.  James and I had suggested a day out in London for the four of us and now it was time to come up with a plan to make it happen!  Due to advanced years of our travelling companions we decided that it would be a better idea to drive in to London and park, rather than subjecting Madge and Shirl to the long train ride from Ware.  We agreed that the expense of parking and petrol would probably all come out to the same as the train tickets anyway, so with plans made we all put on our finery and settled into the car for the drive to town!

I won’t bore you all with the minutia of our drive in, but suffice to say it was an entertaining trip with the four of us all piled into our trusty Vauxhall Corsa, with Madge and Shirl talking up a storm in the back.  Before long we were navigating into our chosen car park, the NCP lot at St Pancras station (NOT St. Pancreas, as James continued to pronounce it) and, with car safely parked, and girls warmly dressed for the adventure to come, we headed off into the tube station to begin the first stage of our trek, a journey to the Tate Modern!  Never having been, and eager to see whether all these years of school were going to mean that I understood more of it than before, it was to be the first of many cultural moments of the day…for all of us.  Especially Shirley.

David and Shirley

However, the first challenge was to be Shirley and the tube trains, which sounds like a great name for a pop group if you ask me.  We didn’t have to wait long for Shirley’s uncanny ability to cause chaos and mayhem to manifest itself.  Indeed the first instance came when she tried to put her train ticket into the electronic barrier the wrong way around.  Of course nothing happened and the ticket was spat back out at her.  Meanwhile, the line/queue started building up behind her.  Finally, she turned the ticket up the correct way and the ticket went through to the little top slot where you are supposed to remove the ticket to open the barrier.  Did Shirley realise this?  No.  Having been conditioned to look at the reject slot for her upside down ticket, the concept that if you put the ticket in the correct way, the ticket would move through the barrier was completely alien.  So everyone (including the billions of people behind her) waited for the penny to drop.  But the penny didn’t drop at all and eventually a strong and handsome looking man in the line behind Shirley stepped forward, grabbed the ticket from the machine, placed it into her hand, and when the barrier opened, propelled Shirley straight through it.  Shirley almost tripped over herself as she swooned at the rugged features of her helper and, simpering “thank you” to her new suitor, we were off once more.  You may ask, dear reader, why we didn’t help?  That’s because the three of us were hysterically laughing our heads off the other side of the barrier…..as we do.

James and Margaret

So with that done we navigated the platforms, found our trains, and without losing anyone successfully completed the journey to the tube station of Mansion House, near the Tate Modern.  A short walk over the fabulous millennium bridge led us to the doors of the museum where we stepped inside.  We spent a pleasant hour and half at the museum, wandering from floor to floor, looking at all manner of works, ranging from Tacita Dean’s video installations, to Taryn Simon’s photography exhibition, and taking in a bunch of Abstract Expressionist paintings in a special painting gallery.  Was it interesting?  To me it most certainly was.  I did find that my expensive education seems to be paying off, and while there was a lot that passed me by there was a lot more that I certainly now understood.  Shirley provided the group entertainment in loudly exclaiming that everything was very strange looking and that she didn’t understand why people called this art, though even she agreed that the sheer volume of people tramping through the museum probably indicated that she was the odd one out in not getting it, a result of sorts I suppose.

After we had exhausted ourselves and had made the requisite trip to the bookshop we headed out into the brisk November afternoon in need of sustenance.   Rather than dealing with the trains again Margaret decided that we should take a black cab for the next leg of our journey.  So without further ado we hailed a cab, stepped inside and requested the driver to deliver us safely to Fortnum and Mason for afternoon tea.  Swishing through the streets of London in a taxi is such a great experience.  Unlike some other cities in the world, the cabs are always spotlessly clean and exceptionally comfortable.  We marvelled at the crowds as we sped along the Strand, our driver clearly understanding that we were both hungry and thirsty, and, after whizzing around Trafalgar Square and up Piccadilly, we arrived at the doors of F&M, England’s most hallowed grocer.  For those of you unacquainted with this fabulous emporium, you can find them at Fortnum & Mason .  Check out the hampers!

The Millenium Bridge and Tate Modern

Galloping up the steps we entered the tea room and, after being seated by a particularly handsome maître d’hôtel, we eagerly scanned the menu.  It took only a moment for us to settle on the special menu of the day, Smoked Salmon sandwiches, scones with clotted cream and jam, together with pots of tea.  With much fabulous swishing of the wait staff, four silver towers appeared instantaneously on our table crammed with delicacies, together with four shiny silver teapots, all heavenly!  I urge you not to miss the chance to experience this if you are in London at all.  It may be a little on the pricey side, but as with all things in life, you get what you pay for, and the experience and food is just fantastic.  We spent a pleasant hour being suitably refreshed and topped the whole experience off with some shopping time, picking up some Lapsang Suchong tea for the journey home to the US.

Tea Time at Fortnum and Mason

Stepping outside at 4pm we realised that we were conveniently close to Jermyn Street, perhaps my most favourite street in London and home to one of two Alfred Dunhill stores.  Could we just walk by and not peek in?  Of course not, so in we went while leaving the ladies to wander into some of the shops that were nearby.  James handily exchanged the cufflinks he bought earlier in the trip for a pair he preferred and I succeeded in escaping the store without spending anything, a very sad state of affairs indeed!  I was not, however, to be so lucky at our next port of call, Floris, one of the world’s oldest perfumers.  James was on a mission to pick up some fragrance and some shower gel, and I was there to just browse….or so I thought.  It wasn’t long before the handsome salesman, Karim, had persuaded me to purchase a bottle of Santal for myself.  How could I refuse such a dashing Turkish man?  The answer, of course, was that I could not.  So with yet more bags, James and I paid the bill and headed on our way once more.  Rescuing Margaret and Shirley from the ladies section of the store, we sailed back out into the night and headed toward Green Park tube station to begin our journey home.  It was 5.30pm and for those of you unfamiliar with travelling on the London Underground in the height of the rush hour it was a busy affair.  Hoping that we wouldn’t lose Madge and Shirl in the melee, we held on tightly and rocked our way at high speed through London’s tunnels, emerging at St Pancras safe and sound and ready for our drive home.  Once in the car, we pointed ourselves firmly northwards and, with a sigh of relief and contentment, headed back to Ware with thoughts of dinner firmly in our sights!

Bland English Food.....

After arriving back at “Chez Madge”, we dropped our bags off and rushed off around the corner to “The Vine”, our chosen eatery for the evening.  Maria joined us soon after and with Martini’s in hand, always a risk with Shirley on board, we studied the fabulous menu, happily discovered that all wine was 50% off on Monday nights, and settled in for the evening.  Dinner was quite fabulous and proved to be a fitting end to our trip.  I enjoyed some venison, something that I have not been able to have since I left the UK, all washed down with some fabulous wines offered to us by the wine waiter who appeared to have a “thing” for Shirley.  She’s always trouble….have you noticed?  But that is why we love her so much.  There is never a dull moment when she is around!  We talked about life, our friends back in Menorca, what we were all going to be doing over the next year or so, and generally made merry, enjoying the glow of friendships that warm the heart and strengthen the soul.  A good time was had by all…..especially by Shirley, who, radiant from her Martini, spent the entire evening winking at the waiters as they bustled around.

With that, dear reader, our story comes to a close.  The rest of our trip was made up of packing, heading to the airport, and heading home where we arrived at approximately 10pm the following day.  It had been a whirlwind trip but one that had been worth every minute.  Filled with warmth, love, and yet more special memories, we realised how fortunate we are to be able to do the things we do and to have such wonderful people to share it with.  We also enjoy sharing our tales with all of you and I was astonished to see that one day we received over 90 hits on the blog.  Fame and celebrity at last!

So I bid you farewell, dear reader, until the next time.  Who knows when that will be?  We will let you know the next time we travel somewhere.  But until then, big love to you all!

D&J