Harrod's, London

I worked across from Harrods when I lived in London a quarter century ago. It was one of those places a young man could wander about at lunch hour and dream.
All I ever bought was my first Fox Umbrella there, a necessity in London, and supposedly the finest umbrella in the world. I lusted after the leather bound books that caught my attention then. Today I looked at the collection and laughed thinking how easily I could afford one today when now I'm downloading books to Kindle. I simply don't have a life where a library of leather bound books would live secure. I much prefer reading contemporary authors today on my Ipad.
Laura loved Harrods. And yes I bought another Fox umbrella myself. We loved the gift ware section. The Egyptian Escalator is it's own wonder. So sophisticated. The owner of Harrods son was with Lady Di the night she died. The parents created a shrine for the two. That now resides by the Egyptian Escalator. Chanel, Prada, Burberry, Louis Voutton, Fendi all are well represented. What's so much fun about Harrod's though is that something quite reasonable and affordable resides beside something wholly over the top that clearly the rich can afford but mere mortals like I couldn't. Yet I can buy the other one and feel at least smug in my lack of pretention. It is from Harrods, though, I still can imagine Mrs. Bucket (Bouquet) saying in that wonderful English sit com. The whole ambience of Harrod's is such that leaving money there seems the right thing to do. Of course I'm in love with my new umbrella and Laura waxes poetic about her latest handbag.





























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Hyde Park

Laura and I began today by taking the Underground to Hyde Park Corner. It was a sunny day. Walking outside in this most beautiful of parks was truly a joy. There were doves and squirrels, magnificent green trees, Serpentine Lake, wide open dog running fields and monuments every where. Henry the VIII took the land where the park is from the Roman church when Anglicanism was created for a male heir. Around the outside of the park is a horse riding path alongside a strolling path, a jogger's run and cyclists path. All they didn't have was a lane for my Harley. Laura and I strolled down to the Serpentine Lake and had a coffee in the pleasant little cafe on the lake's edge.

"I saw the Guard ride by once," I told her. "They were magnificent on their white horses."

"I'd love to see that, " said. Just then some girls came cantering along to at least please us with their horsemanship.

Marble Arch is still a treat. The Arch that goes nowhere. It was built for Buckingham Palace but the Royal Carriage couldn't fit through so it got moved over to Hyde Park. That was perhaps a century ago and clearly anticipated the tourist appreciation of it for backdrop shots. The Horse's Head nearby remains one of my all time favorite sculptures.

We left through Marble Arch and headed down Oxford Street to shop at Mark's and
Spencer.


















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Buckingham Palace

Given the crowds around the gates to Buckingham Palace I don't think the Queen could possibly have known we were there. I know it's best to make an appointment but it's a Canadian kind of thing to just drop by and visit. We didn't even know if she was in. The guide book said something about there being a Red White and Blue flag that were it up would say she was there but the wind was such that no flags were flying. We waved. It was all we could do, really. We took a lot of pictures in case there was ever any doubt that we'd come by to pay our respects. We just couldn't get in. There was this fellow marching about with a serious looking gun so I didn't think it would go over well if I climbed the fence either.
"It's an awfully big yard, she has." Laura said, "Her dogs could get all the exercise they needed running about out here. Gorgis don't have that long legs."

















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Morning, London

It's 730 am. I'm showered dressed and now waiting for Laura to luxuriate through this process I just sped through. I did enjoy the shower though, high ceilings after Vancouver apartment living marketed for drawfs. This renovated old building was meant for giants, the people had such vision. An era of big cars and big rockets to explore space. All is now replaced tiny by 'smart cars' and the announcement yesterday the Russians are planning to have a hotel in space by 2015. There's a new planet, earth like, with possible life, found 20 light years from here too. So perhaps tourism will remain a boom industry.

I'd left my latest Bill Gibson, Zero History, hard cover at home, not caring to lose it traveling or carry the weight. The story was nagging at me when I woke in the night. I wanted to know what Hollis was doing next to find the maker of the latest marketing communication fashion that had the American military following her in London. Gibson has carried over characters from an earlier novel so Blue Ant survives. That said, I downloaded the Amazon book for Kindle at $9.99 having already paid some $30 for the pre ordered hard cover copy.

The weather forecast is sunny this morning with rain this afternoon. Right now there is blue sky over London.

I've passed on disturbing Laura to make a pot of instant coffee and opted for a can of diet coke while waiting. I'm so proud of myself. With rotating use of the electrical socket with our 2 adaptors I've charged all the batteries in all the electronics and cameras. While I loved the Vancouver airport there wasn't a plug in anywhere in the international waiting area. I appreciated the First Nations carvings and themes but thought I'd attract too much undue attention if I tried to send out smoke signals.

Awake in the middle of the night by time changes Laura and I watched the tv for a bit. Channels went on endlessly making it a heavenly moment for this channel changer buff. The trouble is the fair was all the same, rock videos with sex and violence themes suggesting Freud on coke was right about those under forty, sports news, BBC, television equivalents of Ebay, talk to me semi naked beautiful young women pimping for their older fatter uglier sisters who would be answering the calls and talking hot sex between burrito snacks and Kentucky Fried, a lame sit com or two, more sports and good for fun comedian Tim Minshin threatening God will take off your wanker with a lightning bolt scalpel if you have unnatural sexual thoughts. I turned off the tv and we nodded off for another few hours.

I checked the Iphone Stepsaway application and there are hundreds of 12 step meetings within a few miles of here. I've been seeing so many pubs, bars and restaurants decorated in bottles upon bottles it would be nice to see how the other half thrives today or tomorrow. There's a walking church tour I've found that would take a couple of hours but then there's Harrod's and Oxford Street. I would like to see Hyde Park again. When I worked across from Harrod's at Associated Television when I was living here, the IRA were forever threatening to blow us up so once a week we'd get to leave the building and I'd stroll round Hyde Park for a bit. There's a bit of nostalgia. I used to take my lunches at museums and galeries, eating on the run so I could wander through the history, culture and art of the British Museum and Albert's Museum. There were the galleries too. We've not enough time to do more than touch the surface. It was the same when I was in Washington a few years back for a week long conference. The Smithsonian went on forever with wonder after wonder and I had only hours of time free to enjoy the mental feast.

Laura's progressed further. The showers stopped. I'm looking forward to the breakie that came with the room. Coffee for sure appeals right now. Then it's down to the tube to face the press and off to some enchanted place. My brother and nephew Graeme have shamed me into enjoying photography again. I got a Nikon Digital SLE D5000 before the trip and would have been mistaken for a oriental tourist were it not for my height. I'm actually taking that many pictures and swaggering somewhat like a true photographer does, carrying my Nikon like I might a Glock. I've even interacted with the other photogs, the equipment being an introduction to the 'club'. I've got some serious equipment so I'm one of the brotherhood. It's a bit like scooters and Harley's. The guys are mostly taking pictures of the girls and the few girls with interesting equipment are taking pictures of each other. My brother knows these folk well as I do the Harley drivers. There's a camaraderie here that I see now that I didn't see when I had my snapshot digital. Henry Wong at Broadway Camera would be impressed.

It's Saturday morning in London. I expect we'll find out where we are going at the Underground. Lynn was on a tour of Buckingham. Helps pay the Queen's taxes. I would love to see what books Prince Charles is reading right now but there's so little time. What can one do in a day in London. Much easier if one asked me what to do in a day in Vancouver. Everywhere here is exciting and new. All the buildings are shiny boxes and they open to endless views. Mostly we have to stay on the surface. A couple of those water spider sorts of tourists. If we sink a bit we'll come back with knowing the intricacies of Queen Elizabeth's bathroom. I'm sure that would warrant a day, where the faucets came from, did she get her bowl from India, are the Tiles from Russia, who carved the door. Each of these questions would lead to the great artists of the day. I loved the Royal Dollhouse for that reason especially the tiny paintings done by the greatest artists of the day. A bit like me getting Dali to design a collar for Gilbert or asking Picasso if he'd make up a little something so my cat could have a more elegant rug to lie on. I can hear the Queen and her kids saying something like, "Let's have that Paul McCartney fellow come by and play some tunes after dinner."

We each do it in our own way. In my little world I have my McCartney's and Gainsboroughs. It's just exciting to think of this day of walking about this wonderful garden of the mind. I was astounded as ever at the architecture and sculpture last night. Architecture is the greatest of art for all, but mostly for the common and down trodden who might not be able to pay the price of a gallery or museum. There's so much democracy in London. It's in the art and I've studied the sciences for years.


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Westminster Abbey

Our first encounter with this church was in the down pouring rain. We'd rounded Parliament Square and were looking for the Underground as a bit of dry that might take us somewhere warm to eat. We indeed found the tube station and went on to Victoria Square where we had fabulous sirloin steaks in the Scotch Steak House. We just rounded a corner and there was this massive cathedral. Weddings, funerals, coronations, intrigues and heartfelt prayers and ones less so. Westminster Abbey has been hundreds of years in service. Now we'll hopefully come again in the day.










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London Tourists

"It's easiest if they speak English, " She said. That's for sure.  When we arrived at Heathrow we'd followed signs to our luggage and the express train.  This had taken us to the underground.  The Underground spewed us out at Earl's Court.  It was raining. We were tired. We stopped in a Starbucks so Laura could pee (his disposition perked up immediately after, suggesting possible toxic delirium by then) and I could have a coffee. (I'd no doubt gone into withdrawal and wasn't about to switch to tea despite what they say about 'when in Rome' do as the Romans.  After an Americano we sallied out into the rain with directions to find our hotel.  We found this and both got stuck inthe doorway beating each other for the bath and bed.

When we awoke darkness was coming on but we were re energised.  We headed out to the Undergroud and headed out district line to Picadilly Square. From there we wandered down to Trafalgar Square with the great scultire of Horatio.  Next we found Parliament Square, Big Ben and the Thames.  Then Westminister Abbey appeared to us. And finally we had Scotch steak in Victoria square just a block or so from Buckingham Palace. We'd asked two people working within a block of it none knew where it was.  The hotel was a relief after all the excitemeant and walking.

Departure for London

There was no Stirling in the Chinatown bank I consulted. I found all that I needed however at the Scotiabank 12th and Granville in South Shaughnassey. Perhaps that says a lot about who travels where. That British flavor still lingers in this enclave of Vancouver.

I was riding my Harley Electra Glide. Feeling American in leathers while Laura was bathing back at the apartment preparing herself for an absence from cat, Tiffany, her children and grandchildren. When I was back with the booty of foreign currency she was busily texting all and sundry of the family hoard. Gilbert, the cockapoo, visiting her sister on the islands with his retriever friend Jack, had long forgotten who we were so busy rolling in dead fish seagull poop beaches. "I'll never return to the city of Vancouver, " we could hear him saying.

Meanwhile, leaving in the taxi I was thankful for the sunny day that showed Vancouver at it's finest. Such a lovely city of light and greenery. The airport has changed so much. The Winter Olympics caused the city to celebrate it's charms.

The carving of the First Nations makes the airport a regular museum of fine art interspersed with high end stores selling Chanel and Burberry. I was proud to be a Canadian and Vancouverite thinking that those who come and go by air would have the pleasure of passing through this window of light to the worlds beyond.

Laura and I did the taking off of shoes rituals. I was passed through the security without much interest. Followed by her, no wonder. She got the full wand once and twice over. She's least likely to be a terrorist and more likely to turn heads. Personally I was just thankful to be gathering up my electronics, pens and shoes in peace having too often caused concern in my black Harley Davidson jeans and flame shirt. I'm often thought a terrorist and piercings set off metal detectors. Growling doesn't help either.

Now I'm on the plane. A British Airways. Given British success in the Battle of Britain I've always felt rather comfortable flying in their planes. They have a thing with ships of sea and air and their music has always appealed to me. I love the accents of the captain and crew. So crisp and yet amused and self depreciating in that English sort of way.

We're under way. It's a vacation.

I'm going back to London where I danced as a youth, training with the Latin American World Dance Champion, Dorene Key, while working across from Harrods at the Associated Television. I've returned since but now I'm a doctor clinician, a professional and grey bearded. Only England reminds me that we never planned to live beyond 30. How old 30 seemed. Now my dad is over 90 and we think of 70 as young. We think it is but clearly it's not. I'm old. Not quite 60 but nearing it with gusto. My brother has passed that mark and he was riding motorcycles as a youth. He was the James Dean and I'm the old man on a Harley.

Right now it's a plane. YVR is behind us and Heathrow is but 9 hours ahead. I was a bartender in London and now I'm 13 years sober in AA. Who would have figured any of this. Laura is excited. It's her first trip to Europe. Her youth was spent raising children who are older now with children of their own. We both work in Health Care so this vacation is an even more appreciated tonic. Certainly, just what the doctor ordered.








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