I can’t think of a better way to have started my second day in London than a wake-up call from Neal. We had a lovely chat ... Neal was heading off on his own adventure to Robben Island where Nelson Mandela was imprisoned. So far I hadn't seen my host, Johnny Jay. I got the key from his doorman when I arrived on Friday, and returned home pretty late after “Sister Act.”
So my plan for Saturday was to do very “English” things, so I started out by having a traditional English breakfast at a pub just down the street from Johnny’s flat. So this traditional English breakfast is quite a feast consisting of barely toasted toast, hash browns, baked beans, sausages (not those skinny ones we get in the states), bacon, a fried egg, 1 mushroom, and a strangely prepared slice of tomato. As difficult as it was, I managed to eat the entire breakfast except for the strangely prepared tomato.
Then it was off to The Tube station to head to the West End to pick up my ticket to see the matinee of “Billy Elliott.” This was a much less complicated Tube ride than Friday’s. I only had to transfer trains once. I arrived at Victoria Station and found my way to The Victoria Palace Theatre with no problem. After getting my ticket, I decided to take a stroll. Again, I walked until I actually heard my left knee cursing me out. By that time I had wandered to what I dubbed “Designer Row” in the Chelsea/Knight’s Bridge area. There they were, Versace, Gucci, Prada and many, many more. I was pretty sure I would be arrested by the fashion police if I actually made eye contact with anyone so I kept my head down looking at my no-name Wal-Mart trainers in utter shame. Once I lifted my head, I was at the famed Hyde Park. Just as I was going to walk into the park’s gates I stole a little glace at my watch. To much surprise and horror, it was 1:30p and “Billy Elliott” started at 2:30p and I had absolutely no idea where I was in relation to the theater.
I am blessed with a good sense of direction and was pretty sure I was headed in the right direction to get back to Victoria Palace, but I couldn’t chance walking. Thankfully, there’s a Tube station practically on every corner so I headed for the nearest one and like a pro, found my way to Victoria Station just in time to hit the pub and have a pint before the show. Whoa, that was very Bri’ish! Oh Lord, I’m already dropping my “T’s”!
After downing a pint of Strongbow and a bag of crisps (that’s chips in American), I found my seat and waited anxiously for the show to start. So, where “Sister Act” was all glitz and glamour, “Billy Elliott” was all grime and grit! “Sister Act,” overtly American, “Billy Elliott,” very British. There was so much of the dialogue that I just didn’t get. By the second day in London I had gotten cheap so I didn’t buy a program so I don’t know the actor’s name who played Billy, but he was pretty fabulous. A pint-sized triple threat. He sang, he danced, he acted and did it all with ease! The show did feel long and had some political moments involving Margaret Thatcher that I could have lived without, but overall, I enjoyed the show. I’m not sure if having ice cream during intermission is a traditional British thing to do, but I did have the spoonful of ice cream that cost me 3 pounds (about $4.50), and it was good!
I thought I would return to the same pub that I went to before the show to have fish ‘n chips, but it seems everyone who left the theatre had that same idea, so Plan B was to head back to Putney and have dinner near Johnny’s place. So my final traditional British task was to eat of meal of fish ‘n chips. I went to The Boat House, had another pint, and had the most wonderful meal, except for the “mashed peas” they served with the fish ‘n chips. Hey, I like sweet peas so I figured I’d like mushy peas … NOT! Me no likey.
Thankfully, I only had to walk a couple steps to Johnny’s building, ‘cause I was stuffed like a pig, and my legs were about to revolt. It was only about 7:00 p when I got home and still no Johnny sighting. I decided to read the book I’ve been trying to finish since last Thanksgiving until Johnny came home. By about 7:30p I was sound asleep and the book was still unfinished. I finally woke up about 10:30p to wash up for bed, and then I passed out again ‘til morning.
Sunday morning I was feeling all of my 43 years and finally, a Johnny sighting. He was heading off to a meeting, but he had a few minutes for coffee and the reader’s digest version of the Neal & Glo engagement story!
Finally, about mid-day I was on a train headed out of London and back to reality. My weekend was exhausting, stimulating, inspiring, fun and definitely an adventure. My next adventure starts in a week when I will begin a month of ship-hoping with Neal.
Stay tuned …
So my plan for Saturday was to do very “English” things, so I started out by having a traditional English breakfast at a pub just down the street from Johnny’s flat. So this traditional English breakfast is quite a feast consisting of barely toasted toast, hash browns, baked beans, sausages (not those skinny ones we get in the states), bacon, a fried egg, 1 mushroom, and a strangely prepared slice of tomato. As difficult as it was, I managed to eat the entire breakfast except for the strangely prepared tomato.
Then it was off to The Tube station to head to the West End to pick up my ticket to see the matinee of “Billy Elliott.” This was a much less complicated Tube ride than Friday’s. I only had to transfer trains once. I arrived at Victoria Station and found my way to The Victoria Palace Theatre with no problem. After getting my ticket, I decided to take a stroll. Again, I walked until I actually heard my left knee cursing me out. By that time I had wandered to what I dubbed “Designer Row” in the Chelsea/Knight’s Bridge area. There they were, Versace, Gucci, Prada and many, many more. I was pretty sure I would be arrested by the fashion police if I actually made eye contact with anyone so I kept my head down looking at my no-name Wal-Mart trainers in utter shame. Once I lifted my head, I was at the famed Hyde Park. Just as I was going to walk into the park’s gates I stole a little glace at my watch. To much surprise and horror, it was 1:30p and “Billy Elliott” started at 2:30p and I had absolutely no idea where I was in relation to the theater.I am blessed with a good sense of direction and was pretty sure I was headed in the right direction to get back to Victoria Palace, but I couldn’t chance walking. Thankfully, there’s a Tube station practically on every corner so I headed for the nearest one and like a pro, found my way to Victoria Station just in time to hit the pub and have a pint before the show. Whoa, that was very Bri’ish! Oh Lord, I’m already dropping my “T’s”!
After downing a pint of Strongbow and a bag of crisps (that’s chips in American), I found my seat and waited anxiously for the show to start. So, where “Sister Act” was all glitz and glamour, “Billy Elliott” was all grime and grit! “Sister Act,” overtly American, “Billy Elliott,” very British. There was so much of the dialogue that I just didn’t get. By the second day in London I had gotten cheap so I didn’t buy a program so I don’t know the actor’s name who played Billy, but he was pretty fabulous. A pint-sized triple threat. He sang, he danced, he acted and did it all with ease! The show did feel long and had some political moments involving Margaret Thatcher that I could have lived without, but overall, I enjoyed the show. I’m not sure if having ice cream during intermission is a traditional British thing to do, but I did have the spoonful of ice cream that cost me 3 pounds (about $4.50), and it was good!
I thought I would return to the same pub that I went to before the show to have fish ‘n chips, but it seems everyone who left the theatre had that same idea, so Plan B was to head back to Putney and have dinner near Johnny’s place. So my final traditional British task was to eat of meal of fish ‘n chips. I went to The Boat House, had another pint, and had the most wonderful meal, except for the “mashed peas” they served with the fish ‘n chips. Hey, I like sweet peas so I figured I’d like mushy peas … NOT! Me no likey.
Thankfully, I only had to walk a couple steps to Johnny’s building, ‘cause I was stuffed like a pig, and my legs were about to revolt. It was only about 7:00 p when I got home and still no Johnny sighting. I decided to read the book I’ve been trying to finish since last Thanksgiving until Johnny came home. By about 7:30p I was sound asleep and the book was still unfinished. I finally woke up about 10:30p to wash up for bed, and then I passed out again ‘til morning.
Sunday morning I was feeling all of my 43 years and finally, a Johnny sighting. He was heading off to a meeting, but he had a few minutes for coffee and the reader’s digest version of the Neal & Glo engagement story!
Finally, about mid-day I was on a train headed out of London and back to reality. My weekend was exhausting, stimulating, inspiring, fun and definitely an adventure. My next adventure starts in a week when I will begin a month of ship-hoping with Neal.
Stay tuned …
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