Leeds,dover and canterburry

This morning the rain threatened to make an appearance and I waited eagerly,took the umbrella out and set out to Victoria.It drizzled and stoped and there was that wonderful nip in the air.Finally some English weather and i rejoiced,but as luck would have it the sun was back and shinning.Nevertheless it seemed a glorious day for an outing,so with sandwiches and fruit in our bags we left for our trip.Our bus arrived a minute ahead of us so we ran(after ages,the old bones protested).The tube was also early(or rather we were late) so another mad run to get in.The one thing about the tube is that it gets stuffy and hot.I cant imagine why everyone wears sweaters and jackets as i am pouring with sweat and feeling stuffy.Our day hasn't started too well and once we are in Victoria we manage to get lost and find our way again in a brisk walk convinced we are late.We arrive at the bus station and have to wait for 45 minutes for the tour to start.By this time the heat is getting to me(unlike fans and air conditioning,the English have heaters so when it gets this hot,its impossible to handle)The bus is air conditioned(or so they claim) but it doesn't help but we are on our way to Leeds to see a castle.Once again large tracts of green fields and lush trees give us our taste for the English countryside.The Leeds castle is marketed as the most beautiful castle in the world(and considering that about 90 percent of castles are in England i am sure they are right in their claim).Our guide today is an oxford educated lawyer(or so he claims) who is a freelance travel guide.On the way to the castle he talks in welsh and asks if we can identify the language(confident that after the same routine on many trips,no one has guessed right)He is a bit put out by the fact that i get it right the first time and is dying to know how i figured it out.Well so much for that.The Leeds castle is very livable.The grounds around the place are beautiful with grass,trees and lakes.Black swans,ducks and peacocks run freely around the place and flowers of every colour and size bloom in the hot summer sunshine.The views from every window is so soothing that one could just sit and do nothing.The castle has a very lived in feel about it and not surprising as the last owner was an Anglo American who -thank god for small mercies-left a will saying that the place couldn't be made into a hotel or broken down.The is a lot of modernity but the old world charm remains.The owner also had a fascination for birds and got many varieties to come over.
Our next stop is Dover.My only connection with Dover is the song by Jim Reeves where he says'there will be blue birds over the white cliffs of Dover' and I always thought he meant snow.By now its raining and i am sure its going to wash our our trip(finally English rain).The mist comes down rapidly but we brave the rain and the mist and walk down the pebbled beach to see the English channel.On a bright day we could have seen chalis but not today.I have by now decided that the souvenir shops in England leave a lot to be desired so all my souvenirs are from the land.I pick three perfectly formed blue pebbles as a reminder that i was in Dover and though i didn't see any blue birds,I did see the white cliffs(all made of chalk) and a photograph to remind me of the lapping waters of the English channel.
We leave to go on to Canterbury.Again my connection with this church comes thanks to an elder sister who read TS Eliot and insisted on telling me the story of Thomas Becket and his murder in the cathedral.The church itself is magnificent.The number of little chapels and naves can be pretty confusing but despite the little shops and cafes in the churches in this country,they remain places of calm and peace.This being the seat of English Christianity,naturally is interesting and considering that the archbishop is the head of the church of England is also an interesting fact.Not the archbishop of Westminster.We have a hearty meal of fish and chips and our guide tells us that the fish is always caught fresh from the English channel.The fish being cod,I am delighted to be tasting it,as the nearest i have ever gotten to cod has come by way of cod liver oil capsules that I was made to take for many years of my life.A rather bland fish but nothing that a good dash of chillie sauce couldn't perk up.
Our last stop is Greenwich and we stop at a little village that has more green than people or houses.We take a long walk across the park and there are people selling ice creams of the strangest colours but i don't indulge.The best part about these parks and public places is that they all have well appointed toilets and they are clean.Our walk across Greenwich park takes us to the observatory and like all tourists we take our picture with each foot on either side of the longitude line.This done we get a panoramic view of London and a short walk away is our speed boat waiting.The ride on the Thames is fast and furious but i am more fascinated by a jack Russell pup that has come along with its owner for the ride.The owner unfortunately looked the rough kind and with more beer than he could handle,I didn't riskplaying with his dog.Finally we are home,but not before I forgot the way and had the husband in a fine fettle about all thing that one needs to be aware of etc etc.I did muddle along and find the right bus stop to get off at and the way home so despite the fuss,all wells that ends well.
Finally I must say that despite all the fun I am having,I cant help but feel sorry about Micheal Jackson dying.For me its not about the scandals,its not about his looks that have changed over the years.For me its about a child who was pushed into something that was too much too soon and who despite his great music and entertainment sense,was at the heart a little boy who lost his way and didn't know how to handle it all.Tragic but true and today I pray that we can enjoy his music as a tribute to a once great man who despite his 50 years remained relevant to all generations.This truly is greatness. and so goodnight.

Windsor,bath and stonehenge

Almost five days in London and not having done much we decide its time to take a break from the city and head out.We decide to check out the famed English country side.Poets,fiction writers and Enid Blyton together have created this image in our minds of rolling hills,green meadows,glens and dales.

An early morning start sees us at Victoria coach station(not the horse and carriage variety,rather the Volvo kind)Our guide for the day thank god is English(not eastern European,Indian or Thai)and considering I have had to hunt for an English person in London's mixed up community,this is a big bonus.He is very English,good humour and good manners keeps us going on our trip outside the city.Our first stop is Windsor castle,the home of the current queen and many before her who choose to escape the atmospher of London(and who can blame them).The country side is calming and even the one a minute plane that fly over cant dampen my happiness at seeing such a variety of green.The sun shines brightly on yet another glorious day and we approach Windsor.The castle like something out of a fairy tale rises up from its green surroundings.We start our tour and marvel at the many state rooms.I am fascinated at the number of valuable Rubens and van dyke's that are on display.What wouldn't i give to have just on of those hanging on my home walls(but I am no queen,even if I choose to be one in my own small way).The room dedicated to crockery and china has me spell bound.The delicate flowers,the pretty shapes of the dinner service has me wanting more.The relief on the dining room walls are all on food,fish,turkey fruits everything to give one a healthy appetite.The queen Marys dolls house of a sight for sore eyes.To think that every painter worth his while gave his best works in miniature as did authors.The dolls house is a must see,for its attention to detail and it beauty.How marvelous to have a hobby that could be indulged in (but to be fair to the queen she was letting us share).We move over to see the changing of the guards.All the pomp and pageantry of the English court is very much there and we watch in awe.The mascot however seems a little under the weather(he is a six month old dog of some strange English breed).Besides the show itself I am taken in once again by British humour.The guards and the police crack jokes with us,tell us that the dog will have us for breakfast or that we could be in danger of being shot for walking the lawns.The police officer who tells us that he has never raised his voice and we have made him do so....its all done with a cheery sense of fun besides keeping order.I think of a similar situation in my country and sigh.This is so unique to the British and i am enjoying the fun.

We move over now to Bath(after one heart stopping moment when I almost lost my bag thanks to forgetting it in a shop)and this quaint city is circular,dominated by the bath abbey and the roman hot springs.We walk around the bath itself but i decide to take in some literature so we make a quick visit to the Jane Austen centre.We don't have time for a tour but a character from Pride and Prejudice is there so we pose for a snap(thankfully he is a character I like,had it been Mr Darcy I may have had second thoughts)We stop to eat scones,jam and clotted cream which is fantastic despite being churned out by a french man.We wash it down with earl grey and continue to take photographs of the river with its lawns filled with families on picnics.We also meet a Pakistani fellow traveller who takes a picture for us and the husband and he quickly fall into conversation on cricket and the Pakistani victory in the world cup.I wish we could all be so friendly but that's another story.

Our next stop is Stonehenge but not before a two hour trip that takes us through the quaint villages of the Cotswold's.This beautiful part of England is full of picture postcard cottages that are so pretty one cant imagine living there.All of them look like dolls houses and the roses are huge and climbing in a riot of colour.Soon we leave this patch of woods and head towards open country and approach Stonehenge.This strange place has a history that is quiet unknown to most people but theories abound.The stones looks like silent sentinels guarding god knows what,but it has that strange remote look of something that just happened.The wind howls and twirls but the sun shines as if in tribute to the theory that this is a monument to the sun god.We take in the view of yellow corn fields and green meadows with trees in clusters.We then head back to London,having enjoyed our trip to the countryside.Its midnight now and the nights are short and by the time this post is over and done with,daylight will stream in through the windows and the birds will chirp and the flowers will bloom and another sunny English summers day will be born and therefore goodnight....

London Bridge is falling down

A few days in London and already history and reality are merging in my mind.I have lost track of time(thanks to the sun setting rather late on the erstwhile British empire)and i am not sure what I have seen or when,but let me pull out the memories before they are wiped out by the next lot.Once again we set out like dick witington to see London town.No unlike him we have no hopes of becoming lord mayor of London but that doesn't stop us exploring.Today we start at the tower of London.With all its history of murder,torture and intrigue,the tower itself is a lovely place.We see the armory that made England the power that they were,we go to see the crown jewels and are fascinated by the glitter of diamonds and stones.As Indians we stop a wee bit longer at the Kohinoor and I marvel at the patience and courage of the British monarchy (if wearing those heavy crowns is the price of royalty,then thank you a head of hair is more than enough for me).We watch the change of guard take place,and marvel at the size of the ravens on the lawns(reading Edgar Allen Po's poems never made me imagine that ravens could grow to this size)We then went to every possible place in the tower and walked the walkway over looking the river.The sights and sounds took up almost the entire morning and we stepped out to walk over to the tower bridge.Greed gets the better of me at this point and while the husband is busy capturing London on film,I indulge in one pet passion....food.Raw oysters with the smell and taste of the sea as they glide down my throat and I am in heaven.Too scared of my delicate tummy,I refuse to eat more and we walk on tower bridge and take in the sights.I want to climb to the top and that has the husband in a fit(though when I remind him of the arc the triomph he relents)For all my bravado,I wasn't prepared to face 200 odd steps but decide that somethings in life are best attempted,so we climb,slowly and surely till we are at the top(it wasn't at all that difficult) and the views of London on either side is a truly heart stopping moment.We take as many pictures as we can and come back down.We walk along the south bank in search of lunch but as the English seem to live on sandwiches we are left with very little choice.We walk then to the next bridge which is London bridge I am in search of Nancy's steps..(.where Bill Sykes kills her in Dickens's Oliver Twist,but no one seems to remember either dickens or Oliver) so i carry on.

We stumble upon the glob theater and I am once again very excited about seeing this piece of history but once again that deceptive sun has got us mixed up.The theater is open only till noon for a tour so we have to come back.My next stop is the Tate modern(i have decided to buy prints)and as we approach the husband realises that he is being lured into an art gallery and does an about march.We have to skip it and instead end up on the lawns of the Tate and like the rest of London we sprawl on the grass in the afternoon sun and catch 40 winks.Its time now to cross the millennium bridge to St Paul's.I am reminded of the song from mary poppins and as there are all the birds around it comes alive except that the little old bird woman never came.As we arrive late even for evensong we settle for a look around the outside,then walk the gardens of the cathedral.A song book and a piano are the highlight s of my visit(as I know all the songs in the song book) and we take some pictures in the rose garden and wind our way home,we have a long day ahead tomorrow so its goodnight again.

central london

One is rather foxed after three days in London.Unlike most cities the English except us to recognise their monuments,so its with a great difficulty that we wander around,stumbling on one city sight after the other.Having spent most of our time underground,we decided that walking overground is a better way to do things.Our first stop is the High gate cemetery.The beauty of England is that the graveyards are not places that are eerie,rather they are places to visit the dead and those long gone,who live today in their history and literature.We walk through the park,watch the ducks feed in the lake and walk across lawns that look like they have been brushed green,such is their symmetry of the place.The trees stand tall and there are dogs of every breed walking or playing.Small children in prams and families on picnics.In England to see the sun shine for long periods is considered a blessing(though I am still waiting to see the English rain).We walk across and enter the cometary at High gate and walk along the paths,read the headstones and arrive finally to the most famous of persons buried there.Karl Max,and George Elliot.We take pictures(husband protests about this but its brushed aside,after all graves are meant to be photographed especially of famous people).That done and a long walk uphill has made us hungry.A pub lunch seems to be the best way to get a meal,and the national dish of England doesn't disappoint(what ever happened to Yorkshire pudding and the like,the chicken tikka masala has upsurged them all).We then proceed back to central London and get off at the embankment.Fascinated at the bridge that seems to hang in mid air we don't stop to look around and proceed instead to gape at the Thames.Then we walk all the way back along the river,take in the view and the cool breeze and finally get a feel of the London of our dreams.The big Ben rises quiet suddenly and its a magnificent sight and as luck would have it it chimes at our arrival.We stop to take pictures and marvel at all that gold and glitter and stone and walk over to Westminster bridge.Some long forgotten poems on the bridge struggle for attention on my scrambled brains,but i stop to take a picture and we continue our walk to Westminster abbey.Unfortunately we have to take in evensong instead of a tour of the abbey as we are too late(the evensong was rather good and made up for the disappointment).We moved along to st Jame's park but don't stop as all the walking has got us rather tired(so much for using the car back home).We stumble on the queens guards and stop to take a picture of the solider in fancy dress(that's how it looks to us) and go on to try and get a look at 10 downing.Unfortunately one needs a pass and in a very American way the place is out of bounds unless one has a pass.The long line of men in dinner jackets and woman in evening dress tell us that Mr Brown has something up his sleeve(the speaker of the house had just been elected and we had been praying for them at the abbey).So we move on knowing that there was no way of sneaking in(sneakers and track pants are sure shot way of being thrown out of any English establishment I would imagine).We move over to Trafalgar square(unfortunately I cannot help but compare Paris with London all the time)I look in vain for the pigeons(i think they have been shot but am not sure) which are few and far between,the fountains are crowded with people and as the husband refuses to climb on to the lions(not an easy task and requires some flexibility and gymnastic ability)i decide to do the honours.Young British schoolboy is enlisted to pull me up while the husband and friend push me forward(this requires a great deal of help and willpower when the only climbing one has done is a short flight of steps to the flat).Once there i get my photo ops(being fed to the lions has always been a photo op so nothing new)That done,we are ready to go back home,so the palace and st martins in the field are given a miss.Considering that I am beginning to sound more and more like prince Charles,it may be about time I paid the queen a visit.But that has to wait,so until then....goodnight

Church and music

When one is on holiday with a jet lagged partner,one isn't quiet sure how to spend the time.Being at home seems like a pretty dismal ideas when time is limited,so it being Sunday I decide to attend church service at the local parish.A typical church building in red stone but very different inside.Instead of pews,there were chairs,modern speakers and an overhead projector completed the picture.I wasn't too sure what to expect and when this diminutive woman came up to speak it seemed strange to think of her as the priest.Neat and trim in a pant suit she didn't fit my image of priest.No cassock and all that.It being fathers day,she actually got the whole lot to cheer for the men in their lives,passed around paper and pencils for us to write things down and in between managed to give a sermon and in general made me feel rather good to be there.The whole community feeling and the fact that everyone knew everyone else added to the feel good factor.
But for a moment we need to stop and thing of the church of England.The pageantry and glamour of the weddings and funerals and coronations were missing from this small parish and the service was so different,and then we land up for evensong at Westminster abbey and the experience is so very different.What started as a typical touristy visit was cut short thanks to us loosing our way and arriving late.The punctuality of the British is alive and kicking but i cant say the same for the ques system(its dead and gone).The husband was taken kicking and screaming into the abbey for service and once we had entered and told that it was a hours service the husband was most upset.However when we were ushered into the church and made to sit in ornate throne like chairs all the disappointment and apprehensions disappeared.The church itself had numbered seats(guess with all the rich and famous under one roof some order must prevail).The service starts with the choir emerging after much chanting and organ music.The high domes ensure that the sound reverberates around the place and the sound is enchanting as it is awe inspiring.The choir then walks in with in double file and bows at the alter and takes their seats and the service begins.The congregation has very little to do and seated just behind the choir ensures that we get the best of choir music.With the priest singing prayers and the choir chanting and singing the voices rose in symphony and the hall fills with music.Its a concert and well worth the forty five minutes we were there.The entire service had all the pomp and pageantry fitting for an abbey and i thought of my two very different experiences in English churches. I enjoyed evensong at the abbey as it was a soul stirring experience and the music was soothing and beautiful,but the small church represented the cosy parish church and its personalised feel.However one thing is for sure,being a priest,artist or anyone in England requires more skill sets than the more basic one.A good voice for a priest and a good ear for tone is almost as important in the Anglican church as is gymnastics and dance for the actor,and not just dialogue delivery.Not surprising that these are viewed as careers and take so much more time to master.As the sun goes down on another day,I haven't seen most of the places that most people see,but i have got some wonderful memories thus far.To say that London disappoints is an understatement.Unfortunately far too many modern building have found their place among the heritage ones and for this I feel this place has lost out.Sometimes a bit of vanity never did anyone harm.....and so goodnight.

the london diary 2

When the sun rises at 4am its but natural that we wake up and with jet lag hitting us,our bodies are confused as is our mind.The view from the window however makes up for it.Apple and pear trees,bright flowers all out in summer colours and green grass all set in a little garden with just that nip in the air.Its something we are not used to so we dash off to make tea and soak in the atmosphere while the rest of the house sleeps.Then for a walk around the town with the sun shining bright and easy and as its Saturday the food stalls are out and every produce found locally is there.Pots with herbs,fresh summer vegetables and lovely meats.It sets the tone for the day.The we get our first dose of England.The newspapers are full of the current hot topic of MPs and their expense accounts and for someone used to corruption in high places this seems tame in comparison.We are due for lunch in Westminster so we take the car(bad decision,even on a Saturday) and soon find ourselves bang in the middle of a protest.The sri lankan Tamils are out on the streets of London in protest and that means that most roads are closed.Our poor friend takes us around all the many streets that will take us to our final destination and in the process we see the big Ben,the London eye,the Westminster abbey and all the rest of it.At Knights bridge we are stuck in front of Harrods and find that its still full of Japanese and Arab tourists who are busy spending money.Of course its hallowed gates almost makes you want to run in the opposite direction.Lunch is in covent gardens and for me my mind filled with the scenes from My fair lady,this is a bit of a comedown.The streets are narrow and the square itself is crowded with stalls,entertainers and what have you.Not a sign of the flower girls or the flowers,but of course at 3 in the afternoon its silly to expect them.Lunch is Italian as the English have given up their identity and the typical English foods that we have read so much about has all but been buried.In fact finding an English person in London is really a hard task.There are more Europeans,Chinese and Indian than English.Since we are in the theater area we decide to see a play.Once again we walk the narrow streets and get ourselves tickets for Peter Pan the play that is currently on in London.Coming as we do from a country that has clear differences between day and night,we are rather foxed by the fact that the sun doesn t set on the British empire until well after 9 pm and therefore we have lost track of time.Nevertheless we buy our tickets and make a mad dash for the tube,suddenly realising that we are bound to be late.British tube though lives up to its reputation of punctuality and we arrive in Kensinton gardens with ten minutes to spare.However we haven't accounted for the size of the gardens and we walk and half run just to find that we have missed the deadline and are a minute late.We stand outside and watch the play on wide screen and hope to go on in soon when the husband who has been strangely silent till that moment,asks me if i recognise the woman standing next to me.I look at her and realise that here is the famous Wimbledon champion,Martina standing there next to me waiting to be allowed in as she is late.I marvel at the fact that in my country she would be have been taken in to the theater at once with out any delay,she may have arrived with bodyguards and much fan fare but here she was standing next to me.I am dying to take a photo but the decent person in me says that i shouldn't impose on her privacy so i talk to her and tell her how much i enjoyed watching her play and am happy with that.We enter the theater and then all is magic.Here in a tent in the middle of kensington gardens we are transported(thanks to some excellent special effects) into the world of perter pan and tinker bell.As we watch in sheer wonder at the actors,we realise why the stars of the English stage are so sought after.Here were a set of people so talented not just as actors,but they knew dance,technology,acrobatics and the excellent light and stage design could only have happened in the drama capital of the world.I went to the play based on a review on the bbc and I must say it was worth every pound.We walk back through the streets,stop to take in the sights of the royal Albert hall,the beautiful trees and greens that dot this part of London and wind our way back home satisfied that we managed to see a lot in one day....and so goodnight

The London diary

An early morning start meant that a lot of things had to be organised,after all we were crossing oceans for a holiday.As we got ready to leave it seemed almost like fate that we decided to have breakfast.Not only was this a very wise decision,it may have also saved our lives.Our next meal much to our dismay came well after 11 am,when we had left the house at seven.Nevertheless we arrived in Colombo not very dead but almost there.The srilankan customs probably reflects the unmentioned hostility between the two countries,we were asked some unnecessary questions after which we were made to wait for another hour in a place that didn't have toilets but an Internet connection.Back on the flight,we got lunch well after lunch time and realised that the 11 hour flight was no joy ride.While the husband played games and watched movies,I made frequents trips to the loo(rather clean ones) and harassed the purser(nice boy with pleasant face) for magazines.When it got too much for him he silenced me with a German magazine and there ended all my reading matter.We watched out for all the countries,trying in vain to see anything at all from 40 thousand feet but we managed to stay entertained.The final leg to London got me all excited about seeing the English channel and the white cliffs of Dover(all those years of listening to Jim Reeves).Unfortunately though it is summer in England,the sky was thick with white clouds all in a sea of whipped cream,not a bit of sunlight passed through and we were convinced that the Aeriel view of London would have to wait,but as luck would have it the pilot was not given clearance and our view of London was almost perfect as the plane circled over ever tourist sight that there was to see.Finally we arrive and clear customs and find the tube.Considering we are in a country where we speak the language,it doesn't seem to difficult to find our way to west London but we are disappointed.Somehow we cant help comparing London to Paris and we are not very excited by the arrival.We finally arrive at the house a cute semi detached cottage in a picture postcard street and feel a lot better.Our first day in London and we are fast asleep in warm and cosy bed,and so goodnight.