I spent over two weeks in London, mostly outside, to compensate for the lack of trees in Bahrain and the denial of access to these places (deemed non-essential) for so long, which was still an issue during my visit. This is the reason I was in London instead of making a return trip to Turkey: because the country wasn’t following the airline’s guidance on the current worldwide issue.
Upon returning to my temporary home, I will pay for a brain-poking test and a three-month visa. I drop Caleb off at work so that we can have some much-needed time together. I returned to the house and noticed while doing laundry (his clean and mine not) that I used three pants, four tops, three bras (I could’ve used another), six pairs of socks, a sweater I got on the trip, and enough undies for every day I was there. I wore a shirt and shorts pajama combo and brought two tops I didn’t use.
I vacuumed our three-bedroom place, took out the trash, cleaned the kitchen, and returned to the base to get our utilities check. I go to our bank first and pull out dollars, and then the currency exchange upstairs for dinars. The guys behind the glass will take care of delivering the payment. The following are just a few, ok more than a few, posted signs that caught my eye throughout the city.
I’m packed up and out of Falconry Court earlier than usual. I’ve got a flight to catch back to Bahrain this afternoon and want to make the most of my last half-day in London. I step out into a 39° fog and notice a significant change overnight. Many shops are closed, the cafes have their outdoor chairs put away, and the number of people out is few.
I stopped at a bakery in Teddington, and I’m sure it’s usually worth the visit, but today has the worst cronuts ever (lemon and apple spice) as they try to get rid of inventory before the lockdown at midnight. A memorial for Timothy Bennet was erected in 1900 on the corner of Sandy Lane and Cobbler’s Walk for his £700 spent on legal fees in 1752 to establish a public right of way through Bushy Park that is still enjoyed today.
I encounter more leaves, moss, and spiderwebs than people or traffic on my way towards Teddington Village. In 1065, King Edward the Confessor gifted the manor, and the village grew away from the river. In 1536, King Henry VIII acquired the manor that remained in the hands of the crown until 1603, when it was given to John Hill and remained in his family until 1728. John Barton sold the land in 1862, and Teddington grew from 1,000 residents to 10,000 in 40 years.
The first house on Broad St. was used as a library until the Carnegie Library opened in 1906. A school for boys was opened in 1831, became a church school in 1862, and was demolished in 1979 along with the church. The coming of the electric tram down High St. left houses leveled after only 20 to 40 years of occupation. St. Mary’s Church has been enlarged and repaired many times since it was built in the 16th century. It was closed for a while when St. Alban’s opened across the street in 1889, and after more repairs, it was able to reopen. It is still in use today, even though it lacks a loo.
I come out of a pedestrian bridge over train tracks near the Feltham Social Club, and a lorry (truck) driver makes a face at me that makes me smile. I’ll finish walking at Lansbury Ave Stop F, about a mile from the airport (property, not a pedestrian entrance), and go into a shop for coconut water. The first one costs £2 with a card minimum of £3, and next door’s costs £1.39 with a £2 minimum, but the clerk lets me buy it anyway.
At the airport, I chug water, charge my phone, and eat before getting more food (to have it available). I start my period, which is always a blessing after a trip, instead of going into one. I message with Dad and talk with Caleb. I meet Will, from Scotland, and his friend who are traveling to Switzerland to escape the lockdown. I eat the food I bought earlier and walk laps for half an hour until my gate is posted. A man is upset that the shops are closed even though the lockdown doesn’t start until midnight.
I heard another guy say that his flight is at 6 pm tomorrow. He showed up with dinner 26 hours before his flight, as perhaps where he was staying would kick him out at midnight, or transportation options would be limited or nil. I’m sitting at the gate, reading a magazine, and this guy comes up panting and sweating, thinking the airline was about to close the gate. The ticketing agent tells him he still has half an hour since there are only 50 people on a 300-person plane.
Each person gets their own row. I met some British Bahrain kids and talked with Kian, who is traveling with her sister and boyfriend. I eat the food that is passed out, even though I’m not hungry, and skip the tea to avoid getting warmer as I’ve already taken off my coat, sweater, and socks. I’ll attempt to nap with the remaining hours of this 6.5-hour flight in hopes I’m not too tired tomorrow, even though Caleb will be at work.
I take the morning bus from Kingston upon Thames to Teddington Lock and try a new juice drink (new to me, but I don’t remember what it was). The Shambles (meaning meat stall in Old English) restaurant was once Stapleton Butchers for almost 250 years. Some hooks and scales can still be found around the building, including chalkboards under the floorboards.
I walk along the River Thames back to Kingston. I pass a cyclist as his tube blows, sounding like a gunshot as it splits. It’s good that he has a spare because I haven’t seen a tire patch that big. I’m going back to the room, where guys are painting in the hall, so I can put on a second pair of socks. I grab some mini-donuts and a halloumi pesto waffle to eat in the company of a common starling.
I take the train to Kensington (Olympia) station and walk to Holland Park. There are beautiful buildings, attractive art pieces, and a couple that cycled to the park – the woman doing yoga poses on a set of stairs while the man photographs her. This is a popular place for using Canons and Kodaks – black coats and blue masks, glasses on and smiles wide, rolled up pants sat by a waterfall, and traipsing through the trees for a spot on a rock.
The Kyoto Garden incorporates many traditional types of Japanese gardens – dry rock, hill and pond, and strolling style, some being meant for meditation. The six fundamental elements of these are water, rocks, trees and flowers, bridges and fences, stone lanterns and water basins, and fish. These gardens are meant to instill peace and focus on the natural landscape.
A man is feeding lemon and salt peanuts to a squirrel, and another has found an apple. I’ll take advantage of this opportunity to capture them being still before moving on to Kensington Palace. The south side has a statue of William III, and the east side has a statue of Queen Victoria. Radu will join me at the Round Pond, and we will watch the swans, geese, pigeons, and other birds go about their avian activities.
There is a bronze cast, ‘Physical Energy,’ that was placed in Kensington Gardens in 1907. The other two casts are in South Africa and Zimbabwe. The cast seems life-size to me, and the full-size model is on display in the Watts Gallery. G.F. Watts describes his masterpiece as the impulse to seek the still unachieved in the domain of material things. Riding a horse in only your shorts is one way to attain that.
The Albert Memorial is across the street from the Royal Albert Hall. The first was commissioned by Queen Victoria for her husband, who died in 1861. The second was opened in 1871 with a seating capacity of 5,272 as a concert hall. It underwent an eight-year renovation at the turn of the 21st century. A woman feeds the pigeons, parrots, and squirrels as we make our way towards Hyde Park.
The sun is starting to set, which for me is a good time to leave the park, but also a great time to stay and watch the pipistrelle bats consume a staggering 3,000 insects in a night. I’m not sure where we had dinner, and though I wrote (in my notes) that we got lost, we left the park and went towards St. Christopher’s Place. We walked north to St. Marylebone Church Gardens, west to Cosway St., and then southwest to Lancaster Gate station.
This station was opened in 1900 as part of the Central London Railway. In 1911, the line offered a package delivery service, and the tunnels were used in 1942 as a wartime factory for aircraft parts. New trains were introduced in 1992 that can carry 892 passengers on more than 288 million journeys (as of 2017) on this line alone. We are both tired, me from walking all day and Radu from working.
We parted ways at Waterloo station, and I would have another half hour to an hour before I could get off my feet for the evening. I missed Caleb’s call, so I will have to go to bed tonight without hearing his voice again today. We had talked earlier while I was exploring one of the many parks that London has within its city limits. Every place is worth exploring, some more than others.
I wake up on the 59th US presidential election day to poll and riot news and an early morning rain. Part of me wants to go back to sleep now that my host’s guests are done making noise upstairs. Having been on transportation so long yesterday, I will opt to stay on foot today. I walk towards the River Thames and cross the Kingston Bridge.
There was an ancient wooden bridge about fifty yards downstream that fell into disrepair in 1219 and remained the only bridge between Kingston and London until 1729. The first stone for this current bridge was laid in 1825 and opened in 1828. The bridge was free of tolls in 1870, and in 1914 was widened on the upstream side. No opening ceremony took place with the outbreak of the Great War.
Along Home Park, there is a sign posted on the gate warning the public not to enter between Oct. 27 and Dec. 11 and between the hours of 9 pm and 8 am, not including weekends, while gunmen reduce the deer population by selective slaughter. It’s a lovely day out, and many walkers, some with dogs, and cyclists are enjoying the weather too.
Hampton Court Palace is a wonder that I will only be seeing through the fence from a distance. Tours are now available again (post safety measures) of this royal home that was built in 1514. William III’s expansion left the palace in two contrasting architectural styles, domestic Tudor and Baroque, in 1694. George II was the last monarch to reside here in 1760.
Queen Victoria restored the palace in 1838 and opened it to the public for tours (ten million visits by 1881) and rent-free apartments. The last resident was admitted in 1980, with only three remaining in 2005 and none by 2017. In 1952, the palace was listed as a Grade 1 historic building and was damaged by a major fire in 1986. It is a popular filming venue and was used in the 2012 Summer Olympics.
Also, on the grounds is the oldest hedge maze in the world (probably commissioned in 1690), the largest and oldest grapevine in the world (over 250 years old and one branch over 130 feet long), but the oldest real tennis (hard court surrounded by four walls) court belongs to the Falkland Palace in Scotland. There are ten royal courts in use in the US, mostly in New England and one in Chicago and South Carolina.
The tennis court was built in the early 1500s and remodeled in 1660. Sodium halide lighting was installed in 1975, and then a major restoration took place in 2015. The court has a club of over 450 members that was formed in 1818, three years after Major William Beresford was appointed the Master (to run the royal court daily) and held the position until his death in 1883.
The Barge Walk is part of the estate and is cared for by 42 gardeners who look after the 60 acres of formal gardens and 750 acres of royal parklands, too. Fishermen (not fishers like the carnivorous animals native to the northern US and Canada) are allowed to stay a maximum of two nights to hone their skills after dark. The only action I’ve seen on the water today has been the geese up the river.
I cross the Hampton Court Bridge, and inside the women’s loo, they have pads, tampons, and Tic-Tacs for sale. At the High St. and St. Leonard’s Rd. Roundabout, a shop lady invites me to, “Come in, we don’t bite. Now you’re going to even if you didn’t want anything.” I agree as I put my mask on and have a look around as we talk about the lovely morning and then wish each other to enjoy the day.
I find my way back to Kingston after a small, overpriced latte and a watery milkshake with no taste of butterscotch. There’s a large market on a street I have yet to walk, so I explored some and was going to order a ramen (cash only) and settle for a box of rice and beans, banana bread slice, croissant, and almond cake slice. I’ll save the last two for breakfast.
This morning isn’t as calming to wake up to and a bit emotional, as Caleb has an appointment at the Bahrain Specialist Hospital after being seen at medical. I’m assuming he’ll be fine once they adjust his thyroid medication. The corpsman (enlisted member of the ship’s medical unit) was concerned and had Caleb sent out for another opinion. Having to wait to learn more, I can go about my day.
I’m outside at 7 am and feel better after saying hi to two people and a puppy. The cafe has no hot egg sandwiches left, so I settle for an egg mayo sandwich and jog across the street to catch the bus. I get dropped off at Bond St. after a twenty-minute traffic delay. This will allow me some walking before my next ride. Every day is an adventure, as my route is never the same.
I pass by a horse sculpture that has been provided for visual enjoyment by the local community and not for climbing. The Queen unveiled this bronze worker in 1985, one of the many animal statues made by Judith Bluck throughout London. My starting commute only took two hours. It turns out I was going the right way yesterday and thought I went to the wrong Lidl (German grocery store), but the path runs along the shopping plaza, so I skipped part of Section 8.
I enter Horsenden Hill, and the path will take me about halfway through the park, going east, then north, and back west a bit before exiting the park and going north again. This route will have me passing fields along the river and then walking through grazing meadows and woods intermittently. I enjoy the sound of the little black birds with white foreheads and beaks (Eurasian coot) that they clap together, going down the river.
Horsenden Hill has flint tools and arrowheads that date back 7,000 years ago, when Stone Age nomads were passing through. Iron Age people settled here 2,500 years ago and left behind large amounts of pottery. The Anglo-Saxons cleared the forests to create fields that, in the Middle Ages, would be growing wheat, rye, barley, and corn. In 1801, the canal enabled hay to be shipped to London, and manure returned to the hill. This encouraged new factories and faster trade with the Midlands. As I’m nearing the park exit, I’m graced with the iridescent blue of a yellow-billed magpie.
Near the Sudbury Hill underground station, an ambulance gave me disposable gloves so that I could move a shaking and bloody-nosed rat to the grass. I hope his life works out, but if not, he’s out of the way. I stop for a plate of dal, cauliflower, eggplant, spinach, and paneer on rice (instead of with paratha) for $5, the best deal in London. On West St. in Harrow is a fountain that replaced a well and that was donated in 1880 by Thomas Hudson, a local businessman.
Harrow has some beautiful buildings, and I will admire their church and university before taking The Ducker Footpath to Northwick Park. I stop at a shop for coconut water and some limited-edition candies near The Windermere. There’s a sticker nearby that says Film Only. (@harryfconway, if you’re interested in mostly old men with tattoos, not all of them are agreeable). I make it to Preston Road station before the blue sky turns gray and presents a double rainbow. It starts to sprinkle, and though I was hoping to meet Daniel, the local Jamaican, I’m glad for a dry ride back.
The trains are smooth but screechy, and not sure where I saw the book, but I wrote down the title, Dark Side of the Mind, to look into later. It’s written by a forensic psychologist in an attempt to understand the brutal actions of convicts. I made a connection in Brent, the Borough of Cultures, in 2020, a program that celebrates their unique character, people, and heritage. Waltham Forest won the first year, and the school and volunteer involvement with employment opportunities has increased the creative economy of London for locals and tourists.
The initiative has led to other programs being established to increase public space for free events and artist residencies and to revitalize the high streets (central retail thoroughfare) after dark. I’ll grab a pita stuffed with sweet potato falafel and halloumi for the walk home. Caleb’s appointment was supposed to be three hours ago, and he’ll call me after his medical adventure to tell me that the doctor thinks he had a micro-seizure.
Caleb hangs up with me after I mention Sparky, calls his chief engineer, and then calls me back. I don’t want to get into the research of this condition until we get a second opinion, and we would give Caleb the anti-seizure medication that we didn’t offer our dog. I still miss both of them so much. Dad and Caroline are worried that riots will soon start here as they have in other European countries faced with another lockdown. I will take each day as it comes.
Update: It will take Caleb getting stationed at Balboa Hospital in San Diego for six months before the doctors realize that he was just tired from being overly motivated (even though he didn’t make Master Chief). One doctor read his chart upside down or backward and ordered a sleep study with sleep and no sleep and couldn’t decide on the results. It was a messy time, and we hoped to go back overseas, but some things aren’t meant to be.
TheJessicaness 