Up Up And Away

 

Perhaps you know the feeling, sometimes you have to get away because things get samey, and my solution was this. Fly to England with Ma LSP for a well needed break, which is exactly what we did. First stop, DFW Terminal D, next stop, Heathrow Terminal 3 followed by a fast train to Paddington.

Just Some Carousel

Take in the wonders of Victorian railway architecture then line up, in a weirdly long line, for a cab. Take that to the Farmers Club in Whitehall like a champ. Book into Farmers, most congenial, then set up in rooms overlooking the Thames and go from there.

"There", meant the NatLib, two doors down, and dinner in the club's monumental dining room. There you are, enjoying an autumnal menu under larger than life portraits of statesmen who shaped the world in their time. It's not hard to reflect on the scale and grandeur of the Empire in that setting, and by the same token, who are we now compared to them? Pygmies in the footsteps of giants.

Gordons is Awesome at Noon

Speaking of which, London's grown pretty gargantuan over the last 20 years or so, but has it grown better? Good question. There's certainly many more secular cathedrals of glass, concrete and steel rising out of the city's eastern skyline; St. Paul's is dwarfed in comparison, and I guess that's a sign of wealth. But are the people any richer?

Some are, obviously, no doubt about it, but lately London seems to lack the vibrancy of the mid '90s when you could feel and watch a tidal wave of wealth roll into the city, to say nothing of talent. Remember, ahem, Britpop? Still, the place is clearly running on multiple cylinders, to say nothing of hordes of Japanese and Korean tourists.

Ma LSP at Farmers

Regardless, the first week of the trip was all all about entertaining old friends, not least my Mother's, who are a step above, and then, after a weekend at the EIC (East India Club) and Mass at the Brompton Oratory, climbing aboard a train to idyllic Ludlow. This sits on the Welsh border and shouldn't be missed.

After several convivial days with SH and K, my brother drove in from Aberystwyth and off we went to the Welsh coast. It was good to be back in this rainy seaside resort and good to see my brother, who's a good man, but I only stayed a night, sadly. The next day I sped back to Town on a slow moving Transit for Wales train to meet old friends, setting up at an AirBnB in Soho on Frith Street.

The Jolly Old NatLib

Part of this may have involved a Techno Rickshaw around the storied streets of Soho, another part of it certainly involved a lot of Coach & Horses, French House and Bar Italia. One friend, we'd gone to dinner at the NatLib and immigrated to Soho, accused me of inverse Milton, "From Paradiso to Inferno, Padre!" Quite.

Then, Soho tomfoolery over, a sideways move to Bloomsbury and a pleasant little flat on Coptic Street overlooking the British Museum. Ma LSP joined me there for the last few days and we closed up with lunch at the Prix Fixe in Soho, followed by a glass or two at the French House and then, after a sensible rest, drinks and snacks at the Museum Tavern. And now?

Coptic Street

Back in the great state of Texas. It feels good. We may not have real bread, butchers, pubs, architecture to speak of, cobblers, butchers, fishmongers and clubs with imperial ceilings and portraits of Gladstone and statues of General Outram or Gordon. True enough, but we do have this, big skies, trucks, guns and NO NANNY STATE.

Rare LSP Tie Shot

So forgive the lack of comms, I've been busy. Stand by for further correspondence.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

Back to London

 

It wasn't raining, weirdly, as I stood on the the platform to catch the 9.29 am train from Aberystwyth to Birmingham International and thence to London Euston. And that was fine as was the journey itself, long and slow through the Welsh countryside and then fast into town. It'd been years since I rode the rails, so the trip was an adventure in itself, not too pricey either but be sure to book tickets in advance.

Then there you are, at Euston station. Stride out of that Avanti West carriage like a pro and walk with urgency through the hideously (1970s?) redeveloped station. Pause to look west towards Regent's Park and recollect the many times you've walked along this very same road, many years ago.

Nostalgic reverie over, cross the road and nav a few blocks east to Marchmont street, thanking Progress that your suitcase has wheels. Go through the Brunswick Centre, marveling at its apparent prosperity since the last time you were there, in the '90s?, all the while mourning the disappearance of its all day breakfast cafe. These, by the way, are pretty much gone in London, replaced by annoying coffee shops selling ludicrous pastries and lukewarm "Americano."

Whatever, its a short walk east to Guilford St, past Corams Fields and Lamb's Conduit St., and there you are, in Mecklenburgh Square at the Goodenough hotel, mission accomplished. Check in and behold your just as advertised rooms, beautiful and a far cry from the scourge of corporate hotelistry.

So well done, Goodenough, for providing a relaxing place to stay in a Georgian house in Bloomsbury, what a perfect setup. Next step? Amble over to Lamb's Conduit St. and the People's Supermarket, it's still there, remarkably, for provisions and then go back for tea and a quick scan of Private Eye before going out to meet an old friend at the Lamb, right 'round the corner.

Several pints later, fall back to base for claret, space rock and conversation. Great fun, and word to the wise, try not to spill red wine on the tastefully light carpets of your Regency living room as you listen to Golden Void. If you do, shaving foam is your friend; I learned that in the Army, curiously, makes you wonder what's in it.

That aside, it was great to be back in my favorite part of London, a short walk to most everything central and, for me, filled with memories. But more on that later, in the meanwhile check out LL's incisive thoughts on Biblical exegesis and Genesis in particular.

Your Buddy,

LSP