Oh my gosh, we have been so very busy. Busy indeed. And so yesterday we wanted to head to London for the day. But in a quirk of the modern railway system, the difference between catching a train at 08:44 or before being £199 for the three of us, dropped to £76 for the 09:45. Makes no sense to me, as it means us wasting like half the day before getting to London, but there was nothing else we could do.
So, we boarded the train at the appointed time, and soon were speeding through Kent to London. Sami and I got off at Stratford as we were to head to Canary Wharf first and then to Lloyds before meeting up with jools somewhere near the Thames at lunchtime.
So we split at Stratford, and we climbed the bus to take us to the main station; all around us the Olympic Village rises with pace unabated. It looks like it will be ready in time for the games next year.
We walk through the station, and to the DLR platforms, and soon enough were heading through docklands to the realm of the merchant bankers and suchlike. It was a grey and overcast day, and after snapping the buldings we head down to the Jubilee Line to head to London Bridge, and therefore me getting to snap the Shard in its latest state as the builders are also rushing to complete that as well.
Sami and I then walk over London Bridge into the City, up the narrow lanes and alleyways to the modern wonder that is Lloyds. As we neared richly dressed bankers streamed out to get their lunch or grab a cigarette. We walk past into Leadenhall Market, snapping as we went.
A call from Jools tells me that she had completed the bead hunt and was now at the Embankment tube station. Soon she shows up and we think its time to eat; so up Villiers street we choose an Italian place and have fine pasta and pizza along with some fine red wine. As the lunchtime rush does down we watch the people passing by outside.
Soon we join them, the cloud manages to spit with rain, and soon we are dodging showers. A trip on a bus tour round the sights would have cost us £70 for the three of us, so we make do with a walk to Soho, and the assorted sights of the surrounding areas. We find Chinatown, all windows filled with delicious looking goodies and food.
we press on into theatreland and then onto the red light area, or what is left of it. We walk though and find a maze of backstreets and alleyways lined with wonderful record shops and market stalls. We dive into a pub when the rain gets too hard, and nurse pints and halves whilst looking at folks passing by.
Back out into the gathering gloom of a winters evening, down once again through theatreland, down to Carnaby Street, down regent Street and into Traflagar Square. As usual, its mad down there, and so we walk up to Leicester Square to the tube station; and its back to Euston; along the Euston Road to St Pancras. Tie then to grab some salad stuff from Marks and Spencer for dinner, and then climb on the train and head back to Kent.
Time then to get the salads out, along with a glass of wine before it was time for bed as we had another hectic day ahead today, and a very early start for our trip to France.
Our alarms went off at a quarter to five this morning; and there was just enough time for a cup of tea before we loaded the car for the short drive, very short drive to the ferry terminal. We live within four miles of the ferry port, and so we were there by six and after checking in waiting in line by five past.
We load up, and are under way right on time. Even though the wind was blowing, the boat harding pitched and yawed, and so we had a coffee and croissant and watched the Channel drift past the window.
Once docked, we drove off and head straight to the wine warehouse; we buy seven bottles of wine and then head to the coast for the drive down to Boulogne.
The road skirts the coast between modern towns and sand dunes before sharply rising onto chalk cliffs higher than the matching ones in Dover. It was a clear day, and we could see the cliffs of home some 23 miles or so away. Looking at my shots I can see South Foreland lighthouse, but to my eye I could just make out the cliffs in the distance with ships passing between us.
We stop at Cap Nez Blanc, Cape white Nose, with stunning views over the Channel and along the coast.The wind blew, and it was mighty chilly. I went on to snap away, before cold hands forced me back to the car and we drove on the Boulogne.
It was midday, and rush hour; we drove round but could not see anywhere to park or anywhere to eat. So, we head back to a nice looking village we had passed.
We find a place to park, in front of a restaurant. We go in, and get a table, and order our food. I had kipper soup (no really) followed by Guinea Fowl and vegetables rounded off with zabaglione with coffee ice cram and roasted nuts. Needless to say, even the soup, was amazing.
We drive to the motorway and then on to Calais, to the supermarket.We load up with cheese, fresh bread and a fancy looking cake, before heading to the port.
Our ferry leaves on time at four, and with the time difference were home by five. We have a cuppa and a slice of the cake we had bought before tucking into sesame bread with wonderful cheese.
Phew, we're now shattered and waiting for the Manic Street Preacher gig on the radio this evening.
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