As we do the first day in any city, we took a hop-on, hop-off bus tour around London to get the lay of the land.
After consulting a map, we decided to get off at Westminster, check it out and then walk along the water to the Globe Theatre, stop at the replica of Francis Drake's ship, and finally pop over to the Tower.....a good stretch of the legs after seven hours on a plane.
First stop: Westminster Abbey. Ahh, the history, the architecture, the guard outside barring us from entering. "So sorry. We're closed for today, but come again." No problem. We'll just hop a jet and come back next weekend. It's not like it's far or anything.
Over the bridge, across the street, down the stairs to the water and then a lovely walk along the river to the Globe...that went on, and on, and on. It was beginning to dawn on us why this was not included on the bus tour...the tank couldn't hold enough gas to get us there and back! Maybe we should have brought our passports because surely we had left England and crossed over into Scotland by now.
Finally, we arrived. Home of Shakespeare's plays, famous performances by infamous actors, docents outside barring us from entering. "So sorry. We're closed due to a special performance. Do come back again and see us." Yeah. You're on the list. Right after I replace the shoes I wore out getting here!
Okay, we're now two for two. On to the next stop. The Golden Hinde. The ship Drake sailed around the world (yes, it's only a replica, but someone did sail it around the world and at this point, we're willing to take what we can get).
Down the waterfront till the walk ended, up the street, along a corkscrew medievel cobblestone street and there it was.
The actual Golden Hinde on the prow, the proud masts reaching for the sky, the guy in period costume barring us from boarding. "So sorry. We're closed today due to a special event on board. Please come back another time.
Grrr. Three for three. Maybe we should have just gone to the England exhibit at Epcot. That way, we could have actually seen something British.
Despite our batting average and our aching feet, we decided to press on to the Tower(actually we had no choice. The bus didn't come over here, we couldn't find a taxi and the hike back would finish off a marathon runner in peak condition.)
Twenty minutes and who knows how many blisters later (we stopped counting after they outnumbered our toes), we arrived at the Tower of London. The tragedy, the infamy, the ticket agent telling us that we had missed the last tour and the Tower would be closing in a half hour. "So sorry..."
We didn't wait around for the rest of the speil, but I was beginning to understand why the kings of England beheaded so many people.
As we trugged across the the cobblestones and up the hill to the bus stop, we saw it pulling out. But wait. The underground was right there. Maybe we should just take the tube back and hop on the bus again tomorrow.
Up the stairs, follow the ramp, turn the corner to the metro entrance. Ahh. The convenience, the timeliness, the gates and signs barring us from entering. "Tower stop closed for today."
So glad I came to London.
1 comment:
@ least you didn't have to climb up the broken escalator @ High St station after a full day of the potato-death-march this time!
Post a Comment