Thursday night, 9/15/22 – Yippeee headed off to France to cycle for 5 days. Oh wait, what, no, say it ain’t so, flight cancelled, notification is via text, next available flight is Sunday night. We say shit, the French say merde.
It is now Saturday morning, 9/17, and we’re waiting for the Eurostar train to leave London and head to Paris. As is so true in so many travel snafu, what was SO dramatic, immeasurably awful at the moment, is now in the rear view mirror, and replaced with a fun story and unexpected experiences. In short, we bulldogged American Airlines until they found us something, that something was a flight to London. We booked the Eurostar (chunnel) from St Pancras Stn. in London to Gare du Nord in Paris. And then we splurged on a car service from Gare du Nord out to the coast. Did I mention there is a air traffic controller strike in Paris? A queen’s funeral in London? Planes, trains, automobiles at a premium. Oh and it’s 48 degrees in London and I seemed to think I’d be Fifi LaRoo and packed sundresses. But I digress.
We arrived in London Friday AM, still pretty unsettled as the plan to get to France was iffy and hopeful, but we were “stuck” in London for the day night. (See what I mean, how can you say stuck in London and not realize life ain’t so bad.) We found a hotel, dumped our bags, and started walking. Crisp, but clear and sunny, and all the world was also out walking. Due to the Queen’s funeral, London is closed on Monday and it seemed like many made a 3 day weekend into 4 days. Our hotel was in the area of St Pancras station and we walked south(?) towards Westminster to see all the action. The walk did not disappoint. The architecture alone is so fun, but throw in the people watching.. fantastic. Within many blocks of Westminster the crowds were crazy, and everyone was a variation of a tourist. An unusual energy that even locals told us was unique. It really was such a cool day. Lunch, was classic fish and chips. Delicious!
We finished the day out with a fun cocktail and conversation with a bartender from Budapest, and dinner with a waiter who was half Ethiopian, half Italian, who loves Scotch and insisted we close out the meal with an Amaro. I mean why not, it is a classic digestif.
Pictures to follow, talk soon.
Hope to see you along the way.