London Day by Day

First off, my photos are posted at Shutterfly. I apologize if anyone tried to get in and ran up against pasword protection. That should be disabled now. Email me if you're having any problems. Now on to the travelogue.

This trip came about because Todd works for a major airline and is able to fly anywhere they go as long as there are empty seats on the flight. So he suggested we try to go to England for a soccer game, and I, never having been out of North America, thought this was a fantastic idea, since he can also bring friends for a very cheap price. So we decided to try for last weekend so that we could see the Fulham-Blackburn match and get to see several American players plus Ryan Nelsen, a Kiwi who used to play for DC United. My trip began on Thursday night:

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Thursday
Drive to Chicago. Arrive around 8:30 Central Time. Look at flights with Todd. There are 5 possible flights, 3 from O'Hare and 2 from Washington-Dulles. Based on flight loads, we decide to try for the Dulles flights. Am a little apprehensive, because we could potentially sit in Dulles for 10 hours and not make it to London. Sleep very fitfully. Toss and turn while imagining all the things that could go wrong. I hate being a Type-A.

Friday
Up at 5:00 CT. Leave for Midway at 5:50. The El station is freezing. Begin the "Day of Airports". Check in for flight to Dulles, which is a fairly easy process. Get on the flight, departing at 8:30 CT. Arrive at Dulles at 11:45 Eastern. Go to gate for first flight to London, which doesn't leave for over 6 hours. Terminal is dark, crowded, and under construction, so we take a tram to a different terminal. Eat lunch, play cards, read the manual for my new camera, and do sudoku puzzles until 5:00 when we head back to gate and register for the flight. Lots of nervous nail-biting ensues. Todd checks at desk several times. Things seem to be looking good, but when all the passengers have boarded and it's only us and 8 other standby passengers left, the woman at the desk says she won't be able to add us to the flight due to weight restrictions. Crap. This means another 3 hours of killing time in the hot crowded international terminal. After dinner, we head back to the gate and begin talking to a couple who had also tried to get on the first flight. The man is a pilot for Todd's airline and tells us that the weight restriction is due to a fire at a fuel depot in London which has raised fuel prices and caused the airlines to want to conserve as much as fuel as possible on flights to London. He tells us that the flight we couldn't get on went out with 30 empty seats. We begin to feel very negative about our chances for the second flight, which is a smaller plane. This leads to more nail-biting, stress, and adrenaline rushes, but when the plane is only halfway boarded, the woman at the desk calls our names. We're on! We're seated in business class. I sit next to a Simon Cowell look-alike who's apparently on the Atkins diet, since he refuses to touch anything containing carbs. I attempt to sleep for most of the flight, but again sleep fitfully, waking at every small bump of turbulence and imagining the plane falling 30,000 feet into the icy cold North Atlantic. I hate being a Type-A.

Saturday
Arrive in London at 9:50 Greenwich Mean Time and are whisked through Customs. Stop to withdraw pounds at an ATM and purchase a 3-day Tube card, and then we're off to Covent Garden and our hotel. As the announcements say, we "mind the gap" as we "alight" at Covent Garden station, where it's only a short walk to Seven Dials and our hotel, the Radisson Edwardian. Check in, dump our stuff, wash up, and then head out again. Lunch at the White Lion pub. I have sausage and mash and drink London Pride. Yum. Then back on the Tube for the 20-minute ride out to Fulham, followed by a 10-minute walk along the river to Craven Cottage, home of Fulham FC. We take in the atmosphere and squeeze our way into the club shop, then enter the stadium, drink a quick pint, and take our seats. The stands quickly fill in. Only two Americans are playing, Brian McBride for Fulham and Brad Friedel for Blackburn. No sign of Carlos Bocanegra or Ryan Nelsen. After a quiet first half, Fulham scores just before halftime, soon after halftime, and gives up a late goal. According the diehards next to us, this is typical of the season, as is the referee's horrific mistreatment of Fulham (which neither Todd or I have noticed). These same guys also teach us several colorful new phrases. After the game, we go down to field level to take some pictures and notice a group of kids and parents being escorted onto the field. We surreptitiously attach ourselves to the group and soon learn that the pitch is laid down on a base of sand which allows them to control blah blah blah. In between yawns, we notice the players jogging on the field for their post-game cooldown, and at that moment, Brian McBride passes by. Todd flags him down and we go over to chat. This is the second time we've met (not surprisingly, Brian doesn't remember), and he is just as classy this time. In fact, we think he was inviting us to Fulham's Wednesday match if we were still going to be in town. We talk a bit, snap a photo with him, and then let him finish his cooldown. Todd and I leave the stadium, stopping at another Fulham store before taking the Tube back to the hotel. We set out in search of a pub where we can see highlights from all the other matches of the day, but after a long search through Piccadilly Circus and Trafalgar Square, we end up at an American-style sports bar, where we're able to see the last 15 minutes of Manchester City-Birmingham City as well as the New England-Tampa Bay football game. We eat dinner, but the food and beer are somewhat disappointing, so we head back to the pub across the street from our hotel, The Crown. I drink something on tap called Bombardier. Not bad. After drinking, we go to the hotel and crash. My Type-A neuroses take the night off, and I fall asleep within moments of lying down.

Sunday
Have croissants and coffee at a French bakery on the circle. Best latte I've ever had, hands down. We set off for a day of sightseeing. Weather is cold, but bright sunshine. So much for London's famous rain and fog. Start by taking the Tube to St. Paul's where I try to get in touch with my mate Neil. Can't figure out the stupid English phone numbers. A recorded woman keeps telling me the number can't be recognized. Sorry, Jamo. Take pictures of St. Paul's. My new camera rocks. Walk down to the Thames and cross the Millennium Bridge. See Shakespeare's Globe Theatre, the house from Lock, Stock & Two Smoking Barrels, and the site of the Clink Prison. Cross back over the river on London Bridge and walk along the river side to the Tower of London. Take a walking tour guided by one of the Royal Yeomen. Take lots more pictures. Finish our tour around 2:00 and decide we're hungry. Take the Tube to The Blackfriar Pub. I have fish & chips and mushy peas and drink some kind of bitter whose name I forget. Am surprised at how much I like mushy peas. Interior decorations are terrific in this place. While we're inside, clouds roll in and the weather becomes more what you would expect from mid-December London. After eating, we head to Big Ben and Parliment. Take more pictures. Am really loving my camera now. Walk past Westminster Abbey, but it's not open on Sunday. Head back to hotel, pausing on the way to do a little shopping around Covent Garden. Then back on the Tube to the Tower of London again where we meet Leslie, our guide for London Walks' Jack the Ripper tour. She's cute and has a great Irish accent. Grrr. She takes us (and 30 other people) through the East End, stopping at several murder sites and giving us an insane amount of detail about the murders and the case. Very enjoyable. I'm surprised again by how many buildings from the time of the murders are still there, in basically their same form. The tour ends at the Ten Bells Pub, where apparently the Ripper stalked several of his victims. It's too crowded, so we set off in search of dinner. End up in the Spitalfields Market at a place called Giraffe. It's a cafe offering fairly healthy food and is apparently partnered with the Putumayo music label, so we had our first healthy meal of the weekend accompanied by a great soundtrack. I order a Coke, which comes in a bottle and somehow tastes different, which puzzles me until I look at the ingredients. Aha. No high fructose corn syrup in English Coke, only pure sugar. After dinner, we're wiped, so we head back to the hotel. Watch highlights of the Tottenham-Middlesbrough and Arsenal-Chelsea matches from that afternoon and some kind of crazy English talk/game-show with a surprisingly funny Robbie Williams as the guest. Type-A is still on vacation, and I crash again.

Monday
Back to the French bakery for breakfast. Second latte is just as good. Spend some more time in the shops around our hotel. Pick up some gifts and find lots of shoes and clothes I'd like, but stop myself from buying anything by mentally calculating the prices in US dollars. Nearly give myself a heart attack on several items. Check out of the hotel at 12:00 GMT and head to the Tube for our last ride to Heathrow. No problems with the flight this time, as we only wait five minutes for our boarding passes. We're in first class for this trip. Beginning to get spoiled. We take off about 4:00 GMT. Spread out in my spacious chair and watch Crash (excellent) and Bewitched (utter crap) on my personal movie system. Eat the delicious 5-course meal, then play rummy with Todd for most of the rest of the trip while watching the progress of the flight on the map available on our video screens. Land at O'Hare at 6:10 Central. Slowly make our way through Customs, hop on the El and meet Cynthia at the other end. Show her my pictures from the trip, then load up the car and head back to Indy. Arrive home at 12:30 Eastern. Have been gone exactly 4 days, 6 hours. Feels like a month. Wish I could go back (although maybe minus the day of sitting in the airport). I may be wiped, but it was totally worth it.
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So that's the trip. I should pause here to say Todd is The Man. I would never have been able to take this trip without him, and I owe him big time. I loved London, and despite what several people told me to expect, I didn't find it dirty at all. Certainly the Tube stations were much cleaner than the New York subway. All the English we interacted with were very polite and helpful, even the ones who weren't in the service industry. I loved that London has so much history and yet feels very young. I can't wait to go back sometime.