London 2013 | Needless to say, two nights are nowhere near long enough to see all the sights of London, but the main reason for this short trip was simply to visit a property auction. Anything else, such as shopping, eating afternoon tea and sampling a few of the many pubs, were therefore regarded as a pleasant bonus. I get the impression that property auctions have almost reached national sport status, and are held throughout the land on a surprisingly regular basis. The popularity of these auctions may well be partly due to a BBC TV programme (Homes Under The Hammer) dedicated to buying at auction, developing the property and then renting it out or selling it on to make money. Perhaps the popularity may simply be due to the English fascination for property. But whatever the reason may be, there is no doubt that auctions are a very interesting and exciting way to buy property. We opted for a venue in London because it was the easiest for us to get to, and a visit to the capital is always something a bit special. We chose our hotel for both the price and its very convenient location. We were not looking for wellness facilities, pool, massage salon or any of the other trappings of trendy health tourism. We were simply after somewhere to spend the night. The Royal Norfolk Hotel offered us a bed, a bathroom, many stairs and was conveniently situated just a stones throw from Paddington Station and a pleasant walk to Oxford Street. Arriving at London Heathrow on a Sunday afternoon at the end of October, we were a little concerned to learn that a severe storm was brewing and would blow its way through London on the Monday, possibly creating havoc in its wake. As luck would have it, our flight was pleasantly calm and our first evening in London was pleasantly quiet. It wasn't until we left the pub (happy and content after a large helping of steak and ale pie and a couple of pints for me, and a tasty plate of fish and chips for my wife) that a fresh breeze made its presence felt around the Paddington area. We walked the few yards to our hotel and retired to bed in anticipation of our early start on Monday morning. After all, with only a couple of days at our disposal we were intent on making the most of the time available. At sometime around 3am we awoke to the sound of rain lashing against the Victorian sash windows. I reached for my camera and my wife made a nice cup of tea. How very English, and how very grateful we were for the kettle, cups and tea in our room. After a short while we dozed off again and awoke bright and early on Monday morning to blue skies and the sight of tables and chairs being set up on the pavement outside the café opposite – the storm had subsided and in the capital it was business as usual. After tucking in to a substantial English breakfast we ventured out. The original plan was to take a gentle walk through Hyde Park and then stroll on to Regent Street for a bit of shopping, but unfortunately Hyde Park was closed. Hyde Park Closed? A man with a bright yellow jacket explained that the park had to be closed because of fears about safety. |
So thankfully we were now in no danger of tripping over a fallen branch in the park.... instead we had to negotiate the fallen trees on a very busy Bayswater Road with a constant flow of cyclists and traffic all out to get the poor, diverted pedestrian.
I don't want to bore everyone with everything we did on our first full day in London, suffice to say we had a good walk about, and squeezed in a bit of shopping as well as the auction.
I was aware that Barbour, the outdoor clothing people, have a shop in Regent Street. I've been quite a fan of their waxed jackets for many years, and those who have seen mine will certainly agree that I urgently needed a new one.
I imagined a stylishly sedate shop decorated with stuffed animals and all manner of country paraphernalia.
I imagined being served by a gentleman of advancing years dressed in Tweeds, who would relate with watery eyes tales of how his jacket had once saved him from being eaten by a wild boar. A chap who would praise me for my choice of jacket and relate how he too spends his weekends plodding through the countryside in wellies and wearing the very same jacket. A fellow who enjoys the squelching mud beneath his feet and the smell of wax in his nostrils.
I imagined perhaps a lady with an aristocratic air and a thick woolly sweater, who would enthusiastically tell her discerning customers about how many home baked scones she managed to take to the village fête in the back of her Land Rover.
Imagine then my surprise when I entered the shop. Loud, totally unsuitable music greeted my ears and trendy young salesgirls mingled inconspicuously with the many customers. Luckily for me I new exactly what I wanted because I really couldn't hear myself think. Having tried on a couple of jackets, it seemed they didn't have my size. I was reluctant to ask one of these youngsters for advice. To be honest I wanted to leave the shop as quickly as possible. However, as luck would have it, one of the girls did come over to assist and after shouting at each other for a short while we did succeed in getting the music turned down a little. Once communicating like civilised people, the staff did prove to be most helpful and happily telephoned another branch nearby to reserve the jacket of my choice in my size.
The shop in Duke Street was quiet, completely free from distracting music and my jacket was waiting for me as promised. Fantastic, I'm now the proud owner of a nice new waxed jacket which has already seen several very wet autumnal days.
After all that excitement we refreshed ourselves with fresh scones, clotted cream and excellent blackcurrant jam in Selfridges (strange, usually one has strawberry jam). We then set off for Grosvenor Square to spend a fascinating few hours in the property auction – which after all was the reason for our visit.
The day turned quickly into evening and after a very tasty meal in the pub opposite our hotel, we returned to our room for the night. We did seriously contemplate setting the alarm clock to wake us for a middle of the night cup of tea, but decided our beauty sleep was more important. However thanks to the couple of evening pints I awoke without an alarm anyway, and tea was duly served.
Tuesday morning arrived as it usually does after Monday night, and once again we found ourselves savouring the delights of the hotel's traditional English breakfast. The bacon was a delight and I can still taste the unique flavour of proper English mustard – unfortunately it came out of a plastic sachet, but certainly better than nothing. Stepping out into the fresh London air (gone are the days of stinking traffic fumes and chimney smoke in London it seems) we once again tried our luck at a walk through Hyde Park. This time we were lucky, and ambled through leafy paths to an Underground station on the far side.
The forever fascinating London Underground took us to Tower Hill where we alighted and headed off towards St. Katherine Docks, a peaceful, nautical haven of boats, interesting shops and of course a pub. We browsed for a while and shopped a little in Nauticalia, a very interesting shop selling all sorts of nautical things and leisure clothing, we then walked over to The Dickens Inn for lunch. Fully replenished, we returned to the heart of the city for a last stroll about and a nice cup of tea. Then it was off to the airport and a quick pint before returning home.