London Catch-up: Featuring Long Lost Cousins, Magic, Cake, Canals, Markets, and Much More!

 

The last few days have been a wild ride all over London on the tube, and then back, and then off again in a different direction, then a quick sit down for tea or cake or beer, and then back off again across town in a another direction. It's been fantastic, and as Samuel Johnson said: "When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford." 

I'm not even close to being tired of this place!

In between bouts of sprinting across the city, my cousin Mel and I finally managed to be here at the same time (without planning it that way at all), and had a fantastic dinner in Soho with all of us. The highlight of the night, however was finally getting to meet my two cousins Katie and Kerry who live here in the UK and whom I have somehow never met. They joined us for dinner, with all of our group including Kent, Zoe and Dryden, Jacob and Jenna, Mel's husband Stuart, and Stuart's Scottish cousin Robert, 

So lovely to finally meet up:

That's Kerry on the left, then me, then Katie, and Mel. 

 

Hopefully it won't be another 50 years before we all meet again.

London takes up a lot of space physically and mentally and I don't think any of us have the time for a complete recap of our time here so far, so here are the best bits:

I will admit I had expected London to be quieter in November, but that hasn't necessarily been the case. Westminster Abbey was quite busy with thongs of tourists all gaping outside at the incredible cityscapes, me included. I was happy to brave the crowds, though, and see the tombs of so many historical figures, like Elizabeth 1st and her half sister Queen Mary 1, and some other characters from history such as several of the King Henrys, Edward the Confessor etc. I was there, however, to see the addition of the stone for Stephen Hawkings who died in 2018. I was trying not to step on Darwin's stone (he's sure not to mind) when I spotted Hawking's, so there was some nice synchronicity there.

After marvelling at the thousand-year old architecture, we moved on across the street to the Palace of Westminster, otherwise known a Parliament, and watched a very boring reading of a Bill, the details of which I have forgotten - it was probably something about how every form of public transport in the country MUST go on strike or somehow disrupt their services for a minimum of 17 days each year, preferably over buys holidays and weekends. It's sure to pass. We also popped into the House of Lords, where several Lords appeared to be napping, except for one, who was enthusiastically supporting a Bill to protect the habitat of squirrels. You really can't make this stuff up. 

Big Ben, at the Houses of Parliament, has been fully restored - this is the first time I've seen him without his scaffolding in several years - very shiny and lovely against the bright blue sky. 

Next was a walk along the Thames Southbank, which I always love - so much to see and take in - with the goal of getting to St Paul's Cathedral before it closed. Instead, we diverted into the Tate Modern, for which, I'm sorry to say, my level of appreciation has not improved over the years.

For example, the 'white paintings' exhibit:

It's my opinion that this sort of thing does nothing to advance the lot of modern art as sophisticated. It is good for a bit of a laugh, however, and some entertainment.

I will also note that the Elephant Droppings piece, which I highlighted some years ago on a previous visit, is still there. Why, I don't know.

Anyway.  Of perhaps greater interest was our attendance at a fantastic magic show, known as the Magic Hour, held in a small panelled room at the Sheraton Grand on Park Lane. It was lots of really good mind-blowing fun, made even better by Kent being selected to participate on stage. 

I have no idea how this guy pulled off the stunts he did, but it was very entertaining, and a nice alternative to the usual giant West End productions.

Another highlight (for me, at any rate) was an exhibit on the role of science fiction in advancing science held, appropriately, at the Science Museum, and featuring among other things, a Dalek, a Darth Vader Helmet, and an original tricorder from Start Trek: The Original Series. 

Sorry, not sorry, about ignoring the 'no photography' notice.

Other  notable moments include a waterbus ride on the Regent's Canal from Little Venice, through Maida Vale and ending at Camden,

a fantastic local market here in Queen's Park,

and a very fun couple of days here where we had the whole gang in town and I was able to recreate a photo in Trafalgar Square that I have taken a couple of times over the years since Zoe and Jacob were little:

How lucky am I to have this great time with my family:)

So much cake...

It's just one amazing thing after another around here...

Only a couple of days left on the trip, including a short jaunt up to Cheltenham in Gloucestershire and then back to London before flying home. Should be able to fit in one more blog...

London Day 1: In Which we Leave Madeira, the Flight is Bumpy, and we Arrive in London, and it is Spectacular.

It's always a shame to leave a beautiful place, especially when it was 23 degrees and clear sunshine, and you're heading somewhere that is 10 degrees and raining sideways. But our time in Madeira was up, so off we went to Christiano Ronaldo airport to board our TAP (Air Portugal) flight to Lisbon, where we said goodbye to Jacob and Jenna as they are staying in Lisbon for a few days before joining us in London. I didn't actually mind TAP - they were relatively efficient at getting us on board and to our destination with a minimum of chaos, and the flight attendants were great. I still wish all airlines would at least provide free water, but it seems this is not the case anymore, at least in Europe. I could see the first-class folks getting served their nice dinners on china and being offered a choice of several different wines, but I was happy enough with my cup of tea and pringles, for which I paid 8 euros.

I did have more choices available to me, including this beauty on the cover of the TAP menu.

I get the cheese and bread part, but I'm just not sure about the green mud. Is it pesto? I can't understand how this made it past the editors.  Surely there's a better image out there. Also, why is it falling all over the place? Turbulence? We did suffer a spot of turbulence on one of our flights, and of course, I had just made it to the bathroom when the seatbelt light came on and the captain ordered everyone back to their seats. I thought I better pull up my pants first but the turbulence had other ideas and I was thrown all around the tiny bathroom for what felt like a long time, while I struggled to get hold of my pants without falling back into the blue hole of suction death, and then unhooking them from the cupboard door which had flown open, spilling rolls of toilet paper on the floor and then not slipping/standing on the toilet paper rolls while I tried to gather my belongings. I finally opened the door just as the plane took one more lurch, chucking me back onto the toilet like I was the last player in a madcap game of musical chairs, then pitching me forward again and propelling me out the door and into the aisle like I was being chased by the guy with the chainsaw at the end of a haunted house. I apologized to the flight attendants for startling them, kicked a roll of TP back into the bathroom, and slammed the door shut before stumbling back down to my seat where of course, the turbulence stopped at once.

Anyway, after a stopover in Lisbon, another flight to London, a train, ride on the underground, and a walk through the driving rain, we found our very lovely AirBnB in Queen's Park. We had big plans to head back out for some dinner but the gale outside and a long day of travel intervened and instead we had toast, peanut butter, and jam, and called it a night.

The next day, we walked what felt like about 62 miles, starting in Notting Hill.

I had been hoping Hugh Grant would be mumbling in the corner of the book shop but he wasn't. Just like he wasn't in the arrivals hall at Heathrow either. So disappointing. I'm still holding out hope that I'll see him punting across a pond somewhere.

It was a clear night, the stars were sparkling, and London was really looking her festive best.

This must be the finest city around and I can't believe I have 8 days here - what a dream.

Madeira Day 3-4: Featuring Disappointment, Extreme Gondola Riding, Ham Powder, and Bad Surfing Lessons (not necessarily in that order...).

 

It was another beautiful day here - I'm starting to think every day must be beautiful here. It does tend to get misty and rainy up in the mountains but otherwise, it's pretty stellar weather every day here - about 20-23 degrees, cooler in the evenings, and not at all humid, at least not according to my hair most days.

As beautiful as it is, in retrospect, Madeira was a bad choice for someone who doesn't like heights. That someone is me, and by 'doesn't like', I mean I would rather shove bamboo shoots under my nails than have to look down at teeny tiny people and their little toy cars from hundreds of feet or metres or whatever it is. 

And so it was that I decided it would be a good idea to take a ride up the teleferico, aka the gondola, which takes you over the city for a distance of 3000 metres, and up to the neighbourhood of Monte, where you get a second gondola to another clifftop to the Botanical Gardens. That's right, a second gondola.

I don't know what I thought, but once again I wasn't prepared for the lurching sensation I feel in these circumstances. I also don't know why Heights has to be such an asshole.

Me (spotting Heights in the line, standing directly behind me): Oh hey, Heights, I'm just going to take this gondola ride. Should be all good. Maybe you can catch the next one? Or go wash your hair or go spelunking or something?
Heights: No. I go with you.
Me: Really I'm fine. Totally good.
Heights (barging into our cable car): Move your purse. I sit on your lap.
Me: Oh. Do you have to? I'd be more comfor...
Heights: Now we swing gondola. Wheeee.
Me: OK everybody just sit down.
Everyone: We are sitting down.
Me: Just SIT STILL EVERYONE. DON'T MOVE.
Everyone: 
Heights: Maye throw your phone out the window?
Me: Arghh how did you know I was thinking...
Heights: Now gondola will bounce and shake. Windows might break.
Me: EVERYONE DON'T LEAN AGAINST THE WINDOWS.
Everyone (sitting still and enjoying the scenery): We're not.
Me (to my 6'3" 26yr old son): SIT DOWN AND DON'T GO NEAR THAT OPEN WINDOW.
Jacob: Mum, it's 4inches high and only opens 3 inches.
Me: JUST SIT DOWN.
Heights: Careful of bottom falling out of gondola and all falling to death.
Me: What? That's a thing? OK EVERYBODY HOLD ON. HOW MUCH LONGER? LOOK WE'RE THERE OK GET OUT AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE. OH MY GOD SOLID GROUND THANK GOD. (Falls to ground).
Heights: See you on next Gondola.

The bit at the beginning was relatively tame; farther up the mountain the valleys got deeper, like a lot deeper.

At the top is a very nice cafe named Land, which I appreciated, serving an excellent lunch. I recommend it if you're in the area.

The next cablecar was even more outrageous than the first but I stuck it out and we made it to the Botanical Gardens where I'm sorry to say, I suffered the first of the day's disappointments. If I were to start an 'Awful Europe' blog, I might put these gardens near the beginning. 

                                                                                                                                       

 

I'm just assuming here that we arrived during the intermission of a production of Hamlet Paints the Amphitheatre Floor. We didn't stay for Act 2.

After just making it back on the last cable car to the other side, I suffered the second disappointment of the day. I had been really looking forward to skipping the cablecar on the way back down and taking instead, a very unique toboggan run in a wicker chair sled, controlled by men in white suits, straw hats, and giant rubber-soled shoes that they use to slow down the chair as it hurtles around corners.

What, you ask? Men in white suits with straw hats and rubber shoes escort you down a steep winding road at speed, for two kilometres? Yes, that’s right. How was it, you ask? Excellent question. I wouldn’t actually know because they wouldn’t sell us tickets as it was 5:30pm and they close at 6pm and there were too many people in the line already. I considered asking to speak to their manager but I got the distinct impression they didn’t really give two hoots about me and the fact that I came all the way from Canada to ride in their stupid wicker sleds down their dumb winding roads and ANYWAY. I’ve since convinced myself that it was way too pricey (it was exorbitant: 25 Euros a person!) and then I learned that they were unfriendly and ignored you on the way down and then ask for a tip at the end AND it doesn’t go all the way to the bottom but spits you out halfway down AND you have to take a bus the rest of the way. FINE, whatever, wicker-toboggan-run-through-the-streets-of-Funchal-at-high-speed, I didn’t want to do it anyway. *bursts into tears of extreme disappointment and has to take the gondola back down instead*.

Back down at the bottom of the hill, Jenna tactfully suggested some gelato to ease my disappointment. It was an excellent suggestion and I felt much better afterwards. We ended that day with another great dinner in the Santa Maria neighbourhood – this place is bursting with character.

After sleeping another sleep of the dead, we woke up to more sunshine.any plans we had went out the window and we opted for a beach day instead and spent it swimming in the local lagoon outside our house

marvelling at the colour of the water here and the spectacular waves,

sunning ourselves on the black sand beach, eating grilled limpets and octopus salad at the local restaurant,

and having a laugh at what Jacob called ‘the worst surfing lesson ever’ that was going on in front of us.

By the time they got anywhere close to standing up, they were already on the beach where the fin on the surfboard promptly lodged itself in the sand and that was the end of that. I wish them well in their future surfing exploits. 

Before we left for dinner, Nathalie and Kev showed up straight from Coventry, Kev swilling a beer as he parked their car before running around the entire dock area in a state of extreme excitement. He downed another beer before dragging a large inflatable boat and a couple of plastic oars out of the trunk and proceeded off first to the bar for another drink and then down to the beach. We were already in the car or I would have insisted we stay and watch. I mean what could go wrong?

There he goes…

For our last night here, we drove to the northernmost point on the island for the sunset, stopping on the way at an unassuming butcher’s shop that I had heard was getting rave reviews for grilling cubes of steak over an open fire.

It’s just a one-man show, and he couldn’t really be bothered to talk to us, gesturing to a stack of plates and cutlery as he took one of three remaining huge skewers of beef from the meat case and grilled it to perfection over an open fire. It really doesn’t get much better than that.

After our pre-dinner snack, we headed to Ponto do Tristao, the northernmost point on Madeira to watch the sunset. Again I wasn’t prepared for the extreme height, although you’d think I would be by now. They terrace every spare inch on these mountainsides here – I have no idea how they do it. The topography really is remarkable here – basically stunning whichever way you look.

Our last dinner was at a fancy-ish place in Porto Moniz where they have Ham Powder on their menu. Yes of course we ordered it and it turned out to be bacon bits. I do love me a good bad translation. 

And that’s a wrap on Madeira. We’re so happy we came here –I’d love to come back sometime and stay for longer, long enough to make my own wicker sled at any rate. (Still not over that.)

Off to London tomorrow – Sarah Gower, there will be cake, I promise!