Oh To Be In England, Now That Spring Is Here ( Part 1 - Posted 25 Jun 2011 )

Oh To Be In England, Now That Spring Is Here ( Part 1 - London, etc. Posted on 25 Jun 2011)

We flew cattle class on 28 May, on an airline that is reputed to treat cattle class as cattle. Sentiments of patriotism welled as I couldn't help comparing this with our national carrier and its perks. 

But of course, what you pay is what you get, say no more. One good thing, though - the seats had these small side flaps on the headrest that provided some basic comfort to a strained neck so I did manage to get a decent sleep on a long-haul flight - something of a rarity. 

It helped that the movie menu was not terribly inspiring and that the service attendants all but disappeared after serving the requisite drinks and meal.You are on your own,sleep or find your own in-flight entertainment and refreshments.

Touched down early morning  - turn back the watch 7 hours. Coming back to London after a long absence, some things have changed. The Tube seems to have undergone a makeover, with spiffy seats and free from grafitti. It did not disappoint. 

Getting from Heathrow to our hotel at Crowne Plaza located just across Gloucester Road Station on Piccadilly line was a breeze. Extra perks come in the form of child tickets up to age 15 for D, and free for A. Wow, I'm beginning to love UK already. 

With heavy eyelids, we managed to catch the matinee of "Lion King" at the stately Lyceum Theatre in between intervals of dozing off. Covent Garden was all abuzz with overprized tourist traps, mime artists, musicians and people watching other people. 

D and A's interest in street names and places were piqued when I pointed out what were in their Monopoly game. There was an aha moment of enlightenment, and eyes that lit up whenever we visited or traversed a familiar name on their game board - so these places do exist - in London. We did pass "GO" and avoided the jail.

It was a day and pounds well spent at the Tower of London, with the crown jewels being the highlight of the visit. Afterwards, I wondered if the royals suffered migraine from all that weighing on their heads. They suffer occupational hazards too. 

Not only things have changed but the London Dungeon has been relocated too. When G and I last visited, it was just beside the Tower ( if we remember correctly ). Now, we had to navigate through several wrong turns before finding it, many blocks away from the Tower. 

There was a long queue already formed and a sign prominently displayed showing the waiting time to be at least 90 minutes. We headed straight back to the hotel and made a beeline for the internet connection. The next day, we walked into the London Dungeon through the "priority ticketing" line, feeling a little sorry for the folks still in the queue, for the next 90 minutes. Jack the Ripper is immortalised here, along with other celebrities like the Barber of Seville, the hanging judge, and visually impactful representations of the black plague, blood-letting, live rats and other grim reminders of times past. 

After a rather dark experience, it was refreshing to be out in the open again, strolling across London Bridge, overlooking the Tate Museum and its environs. The skyline across the iconic bridge has been modified by new buildings juxtaposed with the old. We are still mulling over the identity of one building that is shaped like a bullet. ( I now learn it is called the "Guerkin " )

With VAT rates ranging from 13% to 20%, even the most indefatigueble shopper would be somewhat inhibited. There was no desire whatsoever to pop into the shops on High Street to check out the merchandise. No thanks. I'll stick to my ebay and etsy. For the rest in the brood, they got their retail fix at good ole ARGOS. G got his GPS, D, his XBox controller; and A, her watch with interchangeable straps for the blossoming diva in her.

What would a visit to London be without checking out Speaker's Corner at Hyde Park, or so we'd thought. It's the precursor of Singapore's ( defunct ) Speaker's Corner! What a sorry state for democracy when its bastion and icon has all but disappeared from the scene. No speaker, no more corner. It'd been replaced by a fence with overgrown weed and grass. I observed a minute of silence for its demise.

The 2 grown-ups sneaked out one evening to catch "Priscilla, Queen of the Desert" at Palace Theatre, leaving the under 16s back at the hotel with pizza and unlimited internet access. Everyone was happy. Priscilla, by the way is a bus that brings 3 drag queens across the Australian Outback from Sydney to Alice Springs. One of the best musicals I've ever seen. Meanwhile, on a little red dot somewhere else in the world, a pink dot may want to consider a screening of the movie version of this. 

Buckingham Palace beckons after the euphoria of a recent royal wedding. We missed the changing of the guards but spotted instead dignitaries dressed to the nines, complete with their de riguer hats, leaving the grounds after a private function. I must admit, Beatrice and Eugenia, you gals still reign as hat ladies.

Leaving London after three sometimes rainy days, we picked up our rental car from Alamo, aka Europcar, and headed North. Before long, we reached Oxford, the city of spires, where G earned his stripes.The Proctor of Oriel College was gracious enough to allow us access on its premises for a touch of nostalgia. I can still recall the humble meal at their dining hall, contrasted with the students cloaked in full regalia. The Brits, with their institutions and traditions, doing it like no one else could ( or would ) - quirky maybe,  but definitely charming.

 We stopped over at a shop and couldn't resist the temptation of buying apparel for D and A bearing the ubiquitous "Oxford University" logo. Tacky, but it smacks of deep-seated expectations and hopes that someday...perchance to dream...

Did not linger long in Oxford - horrendous parking charges - 2.60 pounds for 1/2 hour. 

Drove past Anne Hathaway's Cottage in Stratford-Upon-Avon, continued past scenic pastures in Wales, which has boasting rights for a village called Llanfair­pwllgwyn­gyllgo­gerychwyrn­drobwll­llanty­silio­gogogoch (58 letters), which in English means "Saint Mary's Church in the hollow of white hazel near a rapid whirlpool and the Church of Saint Tysilio near the red cave." The locals call it Llanfairpwll (pronounced thlan vire puth).