The End

Last day! We packed up the flat and assembled our gear before trundling it all down to Caledonian Road tube station for the last time. On of the features of this station was the choice between 134 steps and a single lift. On previous days we had braved the steps. Today we bundled our bags into the lift and got on a train for Kings Cross station, where we checked our bags in the left luggage.

Back on the tube, we got out at Russell Square and walked down to the British Museum. 

One last morning tea in the spectacular foyer and then a whirlwind tour through the collections, dodging groups of primary school children clutching class work sheets.

Thomas' favourites included the Rosetta Stone, which had exploded dramatically in a Rick Riordan book, but which was miraculously restored when we viewed it.

Eventually our museum brains filled up so we caught a double decker bus to marble arch, where we found a piece of Boris legacy in the form of a permanent ping pong table. 

We wandered on through Hyde Park, which was becoming misty as the afternoon closed in.

We crossed at Hyde Park Corner as the sun was setting. When we had first arrived in the UK the sun was setting at 3:30pm; today it set at 4:30pm, which felt late.

We walked on through the Wellington Arch into Green Park, trying to keep moving for as long as possible. 

More squirrels made an appearance and had to be photographed. 

Finally we ended up back on the tube at Green Park, heading for Kings Cross and our luggage.

There was just time for a quick stop off at our old friend, Patisserie Valerie...

 Before it was time to hop on the tube for the ride out to Heathrow and the long trip home.

Pomp and Circumstance

We had a bit of a sleep in this morning, but not too much because we had an appointment at Buckingham Palace at 11am. We caught the tube to Green Park and walked through the park with a slowly increasing tide of other tourists, all breathing condensation in the cold morning air and converging optimistically on the Victoria Memorial for the changing of the guard. We squished our way along until we were at the front of the guard rail near one of the two entrances and settled down to wait. 

The key features of the changing of the guard are people in bearskin hats and very serious looking grey coats shouting and stomping about while not actually moving very far and tourists packing into a very small space, all expressing surprise at the number of other tourists. Another key element is the very patient but dogged police officers shouting at seemingly endless stream of tourists who thought that standing in the entrance road would make viewing easier. We particularly enjoyed the performance of one mounted police woman who threatened to explode with suppressed frustration at one point. In the picture below, note the three people being asked very politely for the third time to get back behind the barrier.

After a while, the relief contingent of Coldstream Guards came marching down the Mall, complete with their own brass band. 

A detachment of Horse Guards also appeared, which Robert (who had google at hand) assured us was meant to happen, although they seemed to just wander about for a bit and then ride off. Wearing lovely jackets.

 

There was another half an hour of Guards shouting and stomping behind the black railings. For all that the Cold Stream Guards are properly armed and impressively picturesque, it was pretty clear that the serious front line protection stuff was actually provided by the  grimly professional looking armed police officers standing between us and the ceremony. They were not picturesque.

Things suddenly took a weird swerve when the brass band took up position in front of the palace and launched into the Star Trek theme, followed by the love theme from the original Superman movies and finished up with a snappy Tom Jones number. Whereupon they packed up their instruments and marched off back down the Mall.

Ceremony over, the throngs dissipated into the surrounding parks and we headed away from the palace into St James' Park. I should note that the Queen was not actually at home, being still at Sandringham where she and Phillip were apparently getting over a nasty cold. Still, nice to know people were keeping up the place in her absence. A bit like Cathryn watering our tomato plants, really.

We walked through the park, obeying orders being issued by Thomas who had become a Coldstream Guard. Until he spotted a squirrel and gave up the military for wildlife photography.



We spotted Whitehall across the partly frozen lake but veered across to Trafalgar Square.

We found more ice in the fountains and a cool statue on the fourth plinth by David Shrigley.

Standing outside the palace for so long had left us with frozen feet and red noses, so we huddled in the National Portrait Gallery with cake and tea for a while. Once warm, we had a quick peek in the church of St Martin in the Fields,  before heading to the National Gallery for a spot of culture. 

Thomas did some drawing in charcoal which managed to get everywhere, but at least he looked the part of an artist as we wandered through the rooms.

 After finding a bathroom to have a quick scrub, we ate our lunch sitting in the square with the pigeons, watching a rally against human rights abuses in Egypt.

From here we walked across to Leicester Square, where films often premier. A new lego store had just opened here, and there was a lengthy queue to get in which didn't seem like much fun, so we headed on to Covent Garden.

By this stage we were pretty tired. so we headed back to our little basement flat in Holloway, which  is starting to feel like home (we're the lower red door).

We constructed a last supper of all the remaining bits in the fridge before settling down to tackle our packing (which after six weeks had expanded a bit) and a final crack at Lego Indiana Jones on the PS3.

Platform nine and three quarters and up, up, up

Helen started the day with a run down North St towards the Angel, Isligton. On the way she stumbled on the site of the cattle market which replaced Spittalfields in the Victorian era. It's now a park, but the huge clock tower is still there.  

We're starting to do some thinking about how we'll sort out getting home. Accordingly, we stopped off at Kings Cross station to work out our options for left luggage on the last day. While we were there we obviously had to check out the gap between platforms 9 and 10 where Harry Potter entered platform nine and three quarters. In reality, there is no wall between the two platforms: 

 ... although we were pleased to see that there is a platform 9b. However, Kings Cross Station apparently had so many Harry Potter fans turning up that they bowed to the inevitable. Turn 90 degrees fro the real platofrms and you see a huge crowd standing in front of a small sign saying platform nine and three quarters and a surprisingly large merchandise shop.  

The crowd was a queue of people waiting to take hold of a trolly disappearing into a wall and have their photo taken for a ruiniously large sum.

The station itself is a lovely canopy over an echoing space.

 Next door is St Pancras station, which was used for the exterior shots in the movie because it looks a whole lot cooler.

Back on the tube, we headed to Bank to take a look at the monument to the great fire of London, then walked on through quiet Saturday streets in the City to St Pauls Cathedral.
 

St Paul's was a really interesting mix of puritan grace as far as the nave and baroque exuberance from there to the high altar. We climbed the stairs to the whispering gallery and can confirm that it works. We then headed on upwards to the first balcony for excellent views of a slightly smoggy London afternoon.

The height started to get to Thomas...

but he soldiered on up to the top level.

We ate our sandwiches sitting at the top, to the amusement of some of the other tourists. The top level gave the best views of the river and key buldings such as the Old Bailey.

We came back down, pausing only for a quick reprise in the whispering gallery and occasionally to admire antique graffitti carved into the stones in beautiful copperplate. Helen and Robert had read a story by Connie Willis about the fire watch who protected St Paul's during the blitz. They worked their jobs all day, then slept in the crypt, waking to stand on the roof to extinguish fire during air raids. We asked a volunteer whether there was any memorial to their efforts, and were rewarded with a really interesting lecture about the fate of the cathedral during the war. He told us that one bomb dropped through the roof and destroyed the altar. We prepared suitably solemn faces on hearing this, thinking that the symbolism must have been fairly devastating, but our our guide cheerfully told us that most people we very pleased, since the altar had been a dull Victorian table and the new altar was more in keeping with Wren's original vision. He then showed us the plaque commemorating the efforts of the watch. It's in the centre of the floor, directly in front of the central doors and was surprisingly moving.

From St Paul's we got back on the tube to Oxford Circus and walked down Regents St to Hamleys, the 7 storey toy shop which makes Harrod's toy floor look a bit wussy. It was PACKED.

 

Thomas eventually decided to buy a set of magic card tricks and we headed home for tomato soup with red lentils and more Lego Indianna Jones on the PS3.