After the almost 30km of foot slogging yesterday, I had a more relaxing day – 12.3km. As I saw all the sights of central London on Tuesday so today I spent time in the gardens. I did end up at Buckingham Palace again. As the flag was flying I assumed Her Majesty was at home. There were at least two Land Rovers parked in the main quadrangle so suspect the children were doing their filial duty and visiting mummy.
It is a fabulous day. The first day which I would describe as Spring, weather wise . I am booked into the Kensington hotel in Queen’s Gate . It is 5 minutes from the Imperial College,the venue for my conference on Epilepsy. More importantly it is 10 minutes to Harrods. Today is Tuesday after the Easter break and the city is in gridlock. I walk through Hyde Park via Knightsbridge now a rather forlorn shopping precinct with many vacant buildings. As I meander I have a constant feeling that I am trudging on a giant Monopoly board! Prices here are exorbitant so it’s case of “do not pass go, do not collect 2000 pounds.”
High Noon Farm Cambridge
Just down from the Castle was the pick up point for my Highlands Tour specifically Day Tour number 4, which promised “lochs, mountains and castles”. The snow on the mountains was a bonus, if snow in Spring is your thing.
The day I left Quent and Jan was the best day weather wise. The sun shone and the wind was but a light breeze, with bite! The train system is privatised and the North East Service that I boarded was run by Virgin Rail. The train, which had commenced its’ journey in London, arrived about 10 minutes late. It appeared to be disconcertingly full as it pulled into the station. Thankfully the majority alighted, so that for the final leg to Edinburgh there were quite a few empty seats. I sat on the right as it was on this side that the ocean was visible and the train followed the coast for a while, although not exactly hugging it.
I have stayed for the last 4 days with my cousin, Quentin and his wife Janet. They live in a stone semidetached cottage in the village of Corbridge about 18 miles from Newcastle. Torn between their old Imperial heritage and the modern metric system, the British have been half hearted in their conversions. There are Pounds sterling with 100 pence to the new Pound yet it is bloody cold at 2 degrees centrigrade as we speed along at 60 miles an hour to the petrol station to buy a few gallons of petrol. I live in fear that Tony Abbott might hear about this confusing mishmash of measurments.
this is a variation of
Pick the Pansy….