Day 3: The Big Trip To Town

I would like to say I was up with the lark this morning but I cannot. I was, however, up by 0730 and set out to run in Banstead Woods. Banstead Woods are ancient woodland, believed to once have been owned by Anne Boleyn (which means they get my vote), and were a medieval deer park.

My sister was up and working like a demon at her computer so after an hour I had still not departed as we had a deep and meaningful conversation about a range of family events.

The first thing you note about trotting in the woods in this part of England is the pollution compared with home. The air is somehow heavier. More obvious of course is the vegetation which is a relatively lush covering of ferns and brambles. The trees are still in leaf and the sun was shining. The place was thick with people walking dogs - not good for me as readers of this blog will know that I am at a loss to understand man's relationship with these animals. It's like volunteering to have a two-year-old human that never grows up: incomprehensible.

Banstead Woods - believe it or not this is what it looked like this morning!!

So today was The Big Trip To Town – “town" being what people call London (or at least they used to). And of course one always went up to town - never to town nor into town. The same turn of phrase applied to university. You always went up to University - or as father would say up to the University: the definite article adding (I suppose) a sense of gravitas. We caught the train from Chipstead Station. It was fine sunny morning, quite surprising but welcome nonetheless for England in September, so we walked to the station. I had expected a chorus of birdsong but I was disappointed. There was the occasional thrush and the odd blackbird but perhaps the other birds have shoved off south for the winter.

An English bird (to be precise a Goldfinch (Carduelis carduelis)).
I did not hear one of these this morning.

I have to say that in the 10 years since I have been away they have gone a long way in fixing the trains. Our train was due at 1103 and, just like with the Tokyo Metro, at 1103 there it was. There were clean coaches and comfortable seats - rivalled perhaps only by the Dubai Metro which as The G reliably informed me has been running for 5 years and has never been late. And that must be true because it was in the paper!!

Chipstead Station - it just needs a steam engine really: an LNER Peppercorn Class A1 would do nicely.

The tube is no different now than it was (except that it's cleaner and has these new fancy doors at the edge of the platform. The people all look as excited (ho ho) as they ever did.

Happy people on the tube. Where are they going? What do they know? Who cares?

We arrived at London Bridge on time. My sister had suggested as we departed that we could "go up the shard". I thought she was being rude but as it turned out The Shard is a very tall building and you can blast up to the 69th floor and take in the view - which was good but expensive. For the ticket price of £30 each we had a ride in two lifts and the chance to experience vertigo. It may be a poor second to the Burj Khalifa but I will probably never know. Certainly there are more historic buildings available for viewing from the Shard than there are from the Burj Khalifa!!

Left: The Shard, 87 storeys and 306 metres high (see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Shard).
Right: London's answer to Dubai on the tall towers front. I think it's no contest really.

Left: A view up the river. Centre: St Paul's Cathedral. Right: The Tower of London.

My real reason for The Big Trip To Town was to amble along Jermyn Street and possibly make a purchase or two. The only time I have been shaved was I or about my 41st birthday at a barber's in Jermyn Street. I would recommend the experience to any gentlemen requiring a shave. I remember the barber telling me he had regulars who came every day for a shave.

Being shaved in Jermyn Street - I recommend this.

By the time we got Jermyn Street The G's tummy was telling her that her throat had been cut and we needed to find food and find it fast. We found it by walking through St James Square which I must have walked through before but cannot recall, It's one of those spots in London that make London what it is. It was full of people lying on the grass eating their lunch.

St James Square: the statue is of William III. William ruled with Mary in the latter years of the 17th century. He was roped in to put the country back on a protestant track after James II.

Once fed we blasted along Jermyn Street. I was not disappointed. We found a shop called New & Lingwood (www.newandlingwood.com) and when we came out we were down some large number of pounds (of the sterling rather than avoirdupois variety). The precise number of pounds is classified though The G approved all purchase - and we get the VAT back!!

New & Lingwood have some fine socks. These three pairs have been added to my collection.

I do not want you to think that it was only me that had a therapeutic retail experience. The G decided that she needed a really good pair of nail scissors. Yes, dear reader, you have it right: we have travelled halfway round the world at great expense, and some inconvenience, for nail scissors. Taylor's (www.tayloroldbondst.co.uk) is an old-established emporium and I think The G was served by its founder - a gentleman of least octogenarian vintage who had forgotten more about nail scissors than you or I will ever know. He was good salesman as the nail scissors acquired as a result of transacting with this gentlemen are an instrument of great beauty - and I hope at the price of great utility!!

The G's nail scissors.

We had one more surprise in store as we wandered up one of the arcades off Jermyn Street. At the top of the arcade we found a mustard shop. The G was most impressed and insisted that I took a photograph as otherwise no one back home would believe us. This establishment was either owned by or franchised by the Maille mustard concern (www.maille.co.uk) sold only mustards. The window contained huge billboards encouraging passers-by to invest in the "Fall Winter Collection". I assume because of the language that this offer was aimed at Americans for only an American in England could be suckered in by a mustard collection!!

A mustard shop. Yes, really!!

We decided that a visit to Fortnum and Mason was in order. The G was so impressed by the glacé fruits that she bought a bottle of rhubarb gun. The rhubarb used in this gin was apparently grown by Queen Victoria or something like that. Perhaps we were like Americans and ready to be suckered in but we were able to have a taste of this elixir and it was good.

Flushed with taste of rhubarb gone we visited the ice cream Parlour where The G had a scoop each of florentine and marmalade ice cream. To say she was impressed with the marmalade flavour would be underselling the enthusiastic reception she gave. Even on the train on the way back she was musing about they got the flavour into an ice cream that was white and not orange. These musings bode well because it is possible that they will lead to a series of experiments intended to reproduce this magnificent confection. And I will be the principal beneficiary of these experiments. 

Tea at Fortnum and Mason (www.fortnumandmason.com). Marmalade ice-cream is the scoop on the right.