Ah London. The Smoke. Shan’t miss you. Probably won’t be entirely chuffed to return Friday.
Had kind of a lost day yesterday ( Tues.) Went off to find Soane’s Museum – which was pretty close to where I was staying – and ended up taking nearly 90 minutes to find the place. Went for the tour – which was surprisingly short although well worth the visit – and was then somewhat at a loss for how to spend the rest of the day.
I thought I might do Apsley House to get that off my list with the half day remaining so I walked down through Piccadilly Circus and along the Mall to Buckingham and up to Apsley House at Hyde Park Corner to find out it’s closed Mondays and Tuesdays. So much for that idea. And now I’ve wasted the vastly greater part of a day tramping all over London with little to show for it. And what do you do with only two or three hours left in the day all the way down in Knightsbridge?
I chose to wander further down the street to the Victoria and Albert Museum. After about an hour of looking at very pretty things I determined that a museum of design and style wasn’t quite the best use of my time. A little further down the road is the Natural History Museum. I wasn’t overly excited, you can see a Natural History museum anywhere in the world and they’ve all got basically the same exhibits.
Hah! There’s no museum in the world housed in such a magnificent space. Intricate 1880s Gothic Revival with monkeys clambering up the columns and mosaics covering the suspended surfaces. Grand staircases, random overhead bridges, the whole thing. Wonderful place. I could have sat in the main hallway for an hour and been perfectly satisfied with my day.
Plus they had dinosaurs. Skeletons suspended above exhibits viewable from a catwalk, little animated Velociraptor types perched on top of a case following you with their heads, screeching at your with bloody teeth and foul chicken-y cries followed as you walked by. And the piece de resistance hidden at the back of the gallery, a 3/4 scale T-Rex howling and gnashing its teeth. Kind of spooky actually.
So far I hope I’ve covered the north of London. I’ve walked by Madame Tussaud’s and Sherlock Holmes’ Baker St address. I’ve covered 95% of the British Museum. I’ve wandered through Charles Dickens’ remaining London home. And I’ve done a LOT of walking and one thoroughly miserable Tube ride.
So now I’m ready for a break. Down to Portsmouth for a view of the channel, the sounds of seagulls and hopefully at least 75% less humanity. Ought to work out perfectly, I think three days of London is about all any normal person ought to tolerate.
In truth, I think two weeks is the ideal length for a vacation. Three is tolerable if you build in some relaxation. Four is one too many. I suppose if you could find a good place to settle for some period of days and relax, get some sleep, take a break from perpetual motion, it might be easier to handle long trips. But four weeks with the only breaks being planes, trains and automobiles is an awfully long time to function at peak efficiency.
I never thought I’d say this and I am certain the feeling will wear off in less than twenty-four hours but I think I am ready to go home. Wherever that is.