Saturday, January 10, 2009
(You may wish to see the fresh up-date at the botom of this, for those of you who have already been in.)
Last time I did the London tourist bit must be well over two decades ago. Living there, you tend to get a bit blase about it all. In the seven years since moving away, being as it is only an hours flight, I still tend to slot in an annual return.
Well, it's come around to that time again, so on Saturday I'll be setting off on another little venture across. Only this time it is going to be different. For one thing, I'm not going to hold up the plane home (don't want to live through all that again). But besides that, this time I've decided I'm gonna' be taking in all the sights - and the result is I'm about as excited as an excitable excited kid held in an excitable kids holding pen!
The London Dungeon is a must, not to mention Buckingham Palace. I'll be staying in central London, and have pre-booked tickets for that and just about everything else, from The Tower of London down to Madame Tussauds. I'll be taking in the Jack the Ripper Walk, be cruising the sights by Land and the River Thames from a London "Duck" bus, and catching a panoramic aerial view of the City suspended high from a capsule in the London Eye. I plan on exploring much of the night life too, not to mention stuffing my face in China Town, and perhaps even squeezing in a night out at "Ronnie Scotts" (a well-known jazz club frequented in my youth). I have no idea if there will be time enough left to take in any of the art galleries, but I'll give it a go. It all depends on how much hat shopping I need to do in Regents Street first (it's all a matter of priority..)
Ooooooooooooooh, I can barely contain myself (I may implode at any second with all this anticipation).
Naturally, that new camcorder of mine will be put to very good use, so you might as well resign yourself to being bored rigid upon my return.
So, I hear you ask, how come I've suddenly become a born-again tourist? Well, it's like this you see - the friend I am going with has never been to London before, and it has somehow brought out the latent tour-guide in me. Showing your old home-town off to a fresh pair of eyes is always fun, especially when the friend in question is also a very dear one. We are hoping to do a "Thelma and Louise" type getaway, but hopefully without the crime and averting that icky suicide bit at the end.
So there we have it, I'm gonna' be gone for a bit, but not for too long. In my absence, be good, try to behave, and don't you dare to run off anywhere, you hear? ('Sides, I'll only track you down and drag you back again).
Be seeing ya' all!! xx
(Oh, for goodness sake! Hardly an auspicious start.. I've missed my sodding bloomin' flight. I dragged my bones out of bed at 4am this cold dark morn, only to be knocked back at the check-in. Well, not me so much as the over-the-weight-limit megga-case holding my entire essential life-support system. God, what a palaver, now everyone flying to Gatwick knows my preferred knicker size and style, not to mention the embarrassing stuff which I knew not to pack, but did. Here I am at the top of the longest queue imaginable, turfing my secrets out for the amusement of all and sundry.
Worst thing is, hubby warned me this would happen, but I was having none of it. I even saw him off, told him not to wait for me to check in, I'd be fine. The only option left if I am to still make the flight is to find Security and beg them to hold on to my stuff until someone can come claim it for me. So here I am in the middle of my full blown panic-attack, when who should come along and tap me on the shoulder?
"Told you so."
Thank heavens hubby never listens to me. He was lurking to make sure I got through. But even with his help, by the time I made it back to the check in, the loading gate had already closed and the miserable, mean-spirited, moron of a jobsworth who is responsible for putting my case on the plane refuses to open it again - despite the check-in steward doing her very best to convince him otherwise. What a b*****d, the plane still had over half an hour before take off!!!
Not only have I missed my flight, I've also had to shell out over a hundred odd quid for this privilege, can you believe it? That's how much it cost to transfer me over to the next flight out.. (which incidentally, won't be 'til well after 5pm), shower of thieving dipsticks that they are.
So what else can go wrong, I hear you ask? Humph, don't even bother to ask, I'll keep you posted.