Category: London

Back to the Future

Well, this spring we are shaking it up a bit.  For the last few years we have followed our preferred pattern for traveling. Find a home base and from there explore.  Valencia, Spain last year. Ontiente, Spain the year before.  The Dordogne or Occitaine, France and years ago Umbria, Italy. All were explored from a place we called home for two or three weeks, or in the case of Valencia, two months.

Years ago we used to travel a bit like the bad movie, “If It’s Tuesday, It Must Be Belgium.”  (Don’t know it? Don’t bother looking for it. As you might guess it’s about traveling through Europe with a different hotel room every night).  Our version wasn’t quite that hectic or silly, and certainly more interesting, but we did cover a lot of ground in a relatively short period of time when that’s all the time we had. It suited our circumstances then just fine. Can we still manage that? Or have those travel muscles atrophied?  

This year our primary travel focus is the Highlands of Scotland with a week in the Fife region, a few days near Edinburgh, a week in Somerset, and a couple nights in both London and Paris.  Not quite a different hotel room every night, but definitely more movement than we’ve been used to.  The closest we’ve been to near constant movement was four years ago in Spain, mainly in Andalusia, and then we relied upon a nearly full-service travel company to manage all the different hotels, train trips and tours. It was a breeze! Can we do it by ourselves this time?

Glencoe

Well, we aren’t totally on our own.  We’ve shared the planning for the core 21 days with our travel companions and then tacked on 14 additional days on our own.  Even so, the trip involves more than 10 different plane, train and car rentals reservations and 15 different hotels, B&B’s, and vacation rental stays. Lots of planning went into each step.  Lots!  Some pieces of the trip our friends planned.  Some we did. Many we planned together.  We talked, discussed and debated options, texted and emailed ideas and then reservations back and forth.  Some parts of the trip are planned in great detail (dinner reservations on our walk along the Fife Coastal Walk where a hiking service carries our bags from inn to inn as we carry a light rucksack) and others left open (a couple nights in London with only a vacation rental booked).

Making all these arrangements wasn’t the only challenge.  In addition to the four day hike along the Fife coastal path, we also want to do some hiking in Glencoe, around Ullapool and Wester Ross, and near Fort William.  That meant packing bulky hiking gear and enough clothes for those stretches when we wouldn’t have access to washer/dryers.  Weather in Scotland is unpredictable, especially in May.  Sun, rain, wind or even snow at higher elevations? So we also have to pack rain gear and warm layers. Then there’s London and Paris where those hiking shoes will never be seen!  And by the end of the trip the weather in London and Paris could be quite warm.  Short sleeves?  Shorts?  Sandals? Not enough room. Didn’t take long for us to realize our usual carry-on roll-aboards wouldn’t hold it all.

We purchased every book we saw on Scotland over the last year and then had to pare down to just two (plus the one Mary smuggled in when Peter wasn’t looking). Camera?  Bring the big, good camera or rely upon our iPhones?  Big camera won.  Binoculars?  Just one pair. We’ll have to share. And so it went. One large suitcase, one roll-aboard and two backpacks later we were packed.

So how will it go?  Will we survive packing and repacking our bags every second or third day?  Will it get old fast trying to find a decent espresso in each new location or even worse, not finding any at all. Will we miss having our boulangerie, our patio, our market, our neighborhood or will the variety and parade of new vistas more than compensate?  

“Our” patio, home, espresso, and market in previous slow trips to France and Spain

Stay tuned.  The adventure has just begun. Oh, and our first hotel was the lovely Holiday Inn at the Newark Airport—a transit stop on our way to Paris.

London Lemonade

Well,  it finally happened. 

Westminster

We’ve used AirBnB’s for years with amazingly good experiences.  Some truly fabulous accommodations—a gorgeous 19th century house in the Dordogne, a spectacular modern villa in Istria, a stunning apartment overlooking the Opera House square in Palermo, a fisherman’s cottage on an Irish bay. And dozens more great stays.  And never more than a minor problem checking in—and even that was very rare. 

Some of our “homes” over the years — St. Cyprien, France; Kinvarra, Ireland, Uzés, France, and London, UK

This time was different.  

We flew to London from Seattle, traveling with another couple.  Three nights in London in transit to a month in Spain near Valencia. After going through customs and immigration at Heathrow, our travel companion checked her e-mail only to find out that the AirBnB she had booked for the four of us had been cancelled. The notification was sent to her while we were in the air. Panic, disbelief, anger, grudging acceptance, action. The five steps of travel grief. 

We had arranged a driver, Kevin, to pick us up at Heathrow and take us to a luggage drop (surprisingly—at a dry cleaners) near our now non-available apartment.  We had a very early arrival so we needed someplace to store the luggage until the 3:00pm check-in time.  The issue was where now to tell Kevin to go.  Fortunately, it’s a long drive into London so we had some time. We told him to go to the original drop off address until we found a new temporary home.  Kevin was a charming, upbeat fellow.  A talker. “No worries, mate!  London’s a big town— you’ll find something.”  

Three cellphones were in now in full operation.  Our friend was on the line to AirBnB customer service to find out what the hell had happened. (Note to self—always have that number for future rentals).  After several calls back and forth she discovered the property had been sold.  The lack of notification from the owner violated AirBnb policies. Small comfort to us.  Ironically, we had read an article several months ago describing this exact issue with short term rentals. As property values sky rocket in cities like London, the owners can make more money selling than continuing to do short term rentals. 

Now we had to find something fast. Really fast. Two of us were furiously checking other options.  Lots of discussion and passing of phones among the four of us.  Too small!  Too far from the center!  Too expensive!  Ugly!  But then, even before we hit central London, Eureka!  We found a new place, and booked it.  It was in Westminster near St. Vincent Square—15 mins walk from Westminster Abbey and the Houses of Parliament. Fit all the criteria we had laid out.

“Home” Sweet “Home” second try

A second quick search  found a new luggage storage place close to our new home—a small postal services store. (Seems these luggage storage places are either in dry cleaners or private postal service shops.  Wonder why?) And Kevin delivered us there safe and sound.  AirBnB customer service transferred the payment to our new booking and provided a small discount for the inconvenience.  Actually, they were very helpful.  Done!

Thoroughout the drive into London, our cabbie had been reassuring and upbeat. London cabbies are a special breed.  The test to become a driver is actually a series of tests, mainly oral, that replicate the kind of nice or obnoxious, demanding person who might be a passenger.  The process takes at least 18 months, more commonly 2-5 years depending on the amount of time the person can devote to study.  As one cabbie told us, it may be easier to get a law degree. Most cabbies we have encountered are well versed on London history, know how to get to the most obscure addresses and are simply charming. 

Once quickly settled into our new home, we had three lovely days in central London. We took in the evening prayer service at Westminster Abbey (free and offered at 5:00pm in place of Evensong some days) to the lucky hundred or so who show up first) saw a West End play (recreation of the old Brit TV comedy, Fawlty Towers – delightful) strolled the south Thames river walk past Westminster through China town and the Green Park.

And we managed to catch a bit of a special London event we had heard about — rarely open sites of historical or architectural interest, (Open House Festival)  and toured two Belgrave Square historic mansions (one was the Argentine Ambassador’s residence). And managed to find some excellent pub meals. 

The housing crisis was a distant memory.

As the old cliche goes, “Handed lemons, make lemonade.”