9 & 10 December - And we're back

When we got back from England on November 2, we started thinking about when we could go back. Our usual vacation time is autumn; the weather is lovely, not too hot and the kids are back in school, so things are less crowded. Then again, I’ve always wanted to go to the Chelsea Flower Show and we so enjoy our time away so, what the heck, we started to plan for spring. Then maybe we can go back to England for Christmas next year, another thing I’ve wanted to do for ages.  I was there many years ago in late November and it seemed magical. As I’ve mentioned before, I belong to Trusted Housesitters, a wonderful organization that pairs pet sitters with people who want to find someone to care for their pet(s) when they go on holiday. They get a free sitter and the sitter gets free lodging in a proper home with cooking and laundry facilities. It’s quite early days, but I started looking for postings for spring.  I made a few applications and was waiting to hear from the homeowners so I wasn’t surprised to see that I had an email in my Trusted Housesitters inbox. I was surprised, however, to see that it was an invitation for a sit in England in December – like, this December.  The homeowners can browse the biographies of sitters and invite them directly, which is what happened here.  I started a draft to decline when I thought, well, let me at least tell Bruce about it.  To my surprise and delight, he said, “Let’s go,” so I changed my declination email to one accepting the three week sit 40 miles outside of London.  We then decided that as long as we were going, we might as well add a bit up front and at the end and really “do London” at Christmastime.

So here it is, December 9 and we’re on Virgin Atlantic, heading back to Heathrow.  We booked business class because Upperclass at Christmas is insanely expensive, almost $9,000 per person.  Funny, though, as I was checking in online I was offered a discounted upgrade so we jumped at it.

I discovered, in the middle of the flight in the middle of the night, why the upgrade was at such a deep discount. Bruce and I had gotten the last two seats at the back of the Upperclass cabin, right across from the bar.  Yes, Virgin Atlantic has a bar with proper barstools so you can get up from your seat and socialize, should you choose to do so.  Well, four rather loud people decided that was just the thing at about 3:00am. Oh, well.  At least we got to lie down and we did catch an hour or so.  We had the most wonderful flight attendant whose name was Grace, As we were leaving the airport I commented on her and Bruce assured me her name was Clair.  She was so sweet and thoughtful, and never corrected me when I got her name wrong. I do feel foolish on that account, but I hope we see her on board again sometime.

Breakfast was served around 7:00am and was absolutely dreadful.  Had I not seen their shape and color, I would never have guessed that I was eating blueberries and strawberries.  The pain au chocolat was positively leaden and laden with grease.  Quite disappointing since the food is usually pretty good. At around 9:30 the pilot announced that we were in a holding pattern and would land about 15 minutes late.  He was ever so apologetic, it made me wonder if raises are given based on on-time rates or the comment card scores. While we were circling, we got the most amazing view of the Thames. Such an interesting viewpoint, looking down on the walkie-talking and the shard, and we could see “Winter Wonderland”, the holiday market/park in Hyde Park among other things.  So cool. At last we landed and the plane taxied for a good 10 minutes. We would have to deplane and board buses to take us to the terminal. After we’d been on the ground for 5 minutes and everyone had gathered their belongings, the pilot made another announcement.  He said, “We’re in place and ready to let you leave the plane.  I can see a set of stairs just sitting on the tarmac waiting to be driven over to the plane, but nobody’s moving it.  I’ve been in touch with the ground crew and I hope we’ll be able to open the door soon.” He again apologized profusely and expressed his frustration and his understanding of ours.  Huzzah!  The stairs were moved and we exited to the buses.  After a long bus ride, we got our bags and headed to passport control which is now automated with digital scanners and passport readers so it takes all of a minute to clear. Exiting through the “nothing to declare” door, we were out in the airport and ready to leave, except it was about 10:05 and we couldn’t check into our hotel till 2:00, so we headed for the Virgin Airlines Revivals Lounge.  This is the coolest thing.  If you’ve just arrived on an international flight (in Upperclass) you can head to the lounge, check your bags, and relax and revive.  There are private shower rooms and a full breakfast is also available.  We were both exhausted and I was very hungry so we had lattes and I had Eggs Royale, basically Eggs Benedict with Scottish smoked salmon.  We killed an hour or so and then headed to the underground.  I’m not sure why, but the Elizabeth Line was closed as was the Heathrow Express, so everyone and his third cousin were on the platform waiting for the tube.  I found a couple of amusing things on the underground map.

Where a trumpet player should go:

Where a feline behavior specialist

should go:

The train finally arrived and we boarded, packed in like sardines. Fourteen stops and almost an hour later, we arrived at the South Kensington station and walked to the hotel.  We booked the same place where we had stayed in November. We inquired about early check-in, but because it was Sunday and a heavy check-out day we were told we’d have to wait till 3:00.  They kindly checked our luggage and we went out to try to kill some time. We walked to Bruce’s “local” the Admiral Codrington.  I had a sparkling water, Bruce had a beer, and we tried to stay awake.  At 2:00pm we decided to go back to the hotel and sit on one of the sofas in the lobby to wait.  Wouldn’t you know, they were both taken, so I asked about the possibility of getting in early. The very nice person at the front desk shifted some things around and got us into a room.  When we stayed in November, we rented through AirBnB.  The room was fine, but had some quirky features.  There was no bedside table on my side of the bed, so I had to leave the door to the wardrobe open at night so I could use the shelf for my glasses, book and a glass of water.  The bathroom window didn’t close, either, so it would be very cold at this time of year.  This time we rented from the property directly.  The room is in much better shape but is, as they say in the world of real estate, bijou. That’s not really an issue, as we don’t spend all that much time in the room. Settled in at last, I unpacked and because we were completely knackered, we took a nap. Ninety minutes later, feeling a bit better, we headed out for supplies.  There’s a nice organic grocery across the street, Daylesford Organic, that makes salads, sandwiches and baked goods and stocks very nice meats and cheeses. We picked up a snack so as not to have to cook. Then we headed off to Sainsbury’s for basic groceries.  We were too tired to do any exploring, but I did manage to catch a photo of the lights in the shopping area down the street.

Back at the room, we had our food and watched two excellent documentaries about Leonard Bernstein. BBC 4 was dedicating the evening to Bernstein because of the release of the Bradley Cooper film.  I learned quite a lot about him and found it really fascinating. I can't picture American television sparing air time to run this kind of programming. Yes, we love the beeb. Bruce conked out before me.  I read a bit in bed,  but finally drifted off, knowing that I was bound to wake up at the crack of dawn.