Tag: Piccadilly

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London Lights Up European Tour

Lately, I have run into a few Americans in European cities who have decided to give London a miss on their tour or I’ve heard my friends and acquaintances tell of their travels abroad sans London, too.

‘What is up with that?’ I have asked often. ‘London is a great city. You will never tire of it, promise!’

‘Not the problem,’ I have been told.

‘Then what is it?’

It’s expensive, really expensive. Fair enough, but you are not coming to live in the place for pete’s sake. You are coming to visit and when it comes to entertainment for free, London has much to choose from. From checking out its many cathedrals to its eclectic neighbourhoods, right in central London, the city promises to light up any European holiday.

Literally, this past weekend, London lit up in a special way. Though you will always find Leicester Square heaving, it was teeming that much more with Londoners and tourists alike this weekend, those keen to see what all the light of the Lumiere Festival was about. There, was the Garden of Light, first stop on Lumiere’s map.

Though a bit crowd shy, Paul and I wrapped up and joined in with the sightseeing on Saturday, the second night of the event, but chose to make Leicester Square, our last stop with a view that we would grab a bit to eat at one of our favourite spots in Covenant Garden. Not a chance. Never mind, we ended up in South Kensington, where we lived when I first arrived in London.

Posh neighbourhood indeed, but even there one can get a bite to eat without breaking the bank. Though we had planned on sitting down to one of the many neighbourhood restaurants, we ended up grabbing a take away from Rotisserie Jules. But I digress.

Back to Lumiere and where we started, (Mayfair), we got off to a slow start, when daunted by the crowds herding into Grosvenor Square to see the two, possibly three light displays—Brothers and Sisters, Spinning Night in Living Colour and the Light Bench. Not sure if we saw the latter or not. Never mind, we headed to Regent Street, where things literally lit up.

With the famous shopping street closed to cars, crowds adored the 1.8 London display on one end of the street, streaming like a ribbon in the wind,  and on the other end was Les Lumineoles, fluorescents of the fish species. Also on Regent’s street was Keyframes light show, beamed from Liberty’s Department store.

On from there we headed to Piccadilly, where perhaps our favourite was 195 Piccadilly, a display of picturesque faces on the building next to Maison Assouline. Eager to escape the crowds, however, we took side streets into St James and into what was perhaps the heart of the festival, Les Voyageurs, The Travellers, featuring amazing characters perched on buildings around the area or seemly flying through the night.

Having had our fill of crowds, ranging from young to old, we decided to give a miss to Westminster, Trafalgar Square, The Mall and King’s Cross. Okay, so we missed out on a big part of Lumiere but not because we were tired of it, or of London.

As Samuel Johnson wrote, ‘when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life.’

And though Lumiere is over, such events as it have a way of lighting up an already happening city, an enlightening stop on any European tour.

 

 

 

 

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Perspective In The Eye Of The Beholder

And I thought my packages were extravagant–beautifully wrapped boxes from Net-a-porter, Matchesfashion.com, Harrods, etc.– until I saw the brightly coloured Lamborghini delivered to my neighbourhood recently.

On my way back from an hour of much needed training, I was contemplating my soreness and how I might convince myself to return to my computer to write (as I haven’t written for weeks, owing to stress masquerading as writer’s block) when I saw this expensive spectacle being backed off of a truck.

As I fixed my eyes upon it, suddenly fathomable prose struck me with an exciting force. Not that I hadn’t anything to write about before laying eyes on this car. There is plenty of that.

From the London restaurant where the tables have built in computers to order one’s dinner to the magnificent Alexander McQueen: Savage Beauty exhibition at the V & A, I have been a girl about town lately. Not to mention the enthralling yet dark play, The Nether, at the Duke of York theatre, focusing on life without consequences. Disastrous! Not the play, which is rather brilliant, even if it is haunting.

Anyhow, that’s three more blogs to come, but with stress addiction (to be explored in a Huff Post blog surely) I was stymied until I saw the Lamborghini.

Enchanted as I was, I moved past the car rather quickly and into my concierge to pick up my own package, which Paul ought to put into perspective now surely, don’t you think. And then back outside, I glimpsed the owner zipping into the parking garage.

Up to the truck driver I strolled and confirmed that it was indeed a Lamborghini since I don’t always get my cars right but I do remember a friend of mine pointing out years ago that ‘the darn thing has wings.’

Anyhow, the truck driver smiled in confirmation, albeit staring quizzically, perhaps wondering if I was a groupie of sorts of if I lived in a hole somewhere. So glad to be a writer again, I dispelled any groupie myths and moved along, knowing that on some level he must have known that I had seen my fair share of such cars in London. Who hasn’t? From Lambos to Aston Martins to Bentleys, they are all here.

At one point certain posh hooligans had to be fined heavily for drag racing along Piccadilly. Never mind this. The point is I had never seen one delivered or witnessed the owner admire it, accept it and take possession of it so to speak.

Something about this experience got me thinking coherently again. Although the car is lavish by most standards, it reiterated something to me about perspective—it is in the eye of the beholder.

With that thought, I tore into my rather modest package–shush it’s a Sophie Hulme handbag. Let’s hope Paul agrees. Regardless, there’s more to come soon, that is writing. Well, maybe packages, too.

 

 

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The Magic of London at Night…

There’s something about London at night that’s enchanting—a bit surreal, too. As the taxi sped over Waterloo Bridge the other night, I couldn’t help trying to capture the magic. Well, while the amateurish photo isn’t bad, it doesn’t do the capital’s mysticism any real justice, does it?

Surely, I have something that says a thousand words, I told myself as I looked over my digital files—sunsets, sunsets, fireworks, fireworks.

Not what I had in mind. Though I have photographed Shanghai by night, Bangkok, Paris, New York, Boston and so on, I don’t have much of London. What does this mean? Possibly, that I don’t carry a camera around my home base at night. Who does? In any case, I’ll have to remedy that, but it might take some time.

In the meantime, I thought I’d take this opportunity to list five of my favourite views in London at night and tell a bit about what makes them special. Note that the list does not necessarily appear in preferred order. I love them all:

1) A view looking east on the Thames, which highlights the various riverside apartment buildings, the Albert and Chelsea Bridge and the lofty skyscrapers of the city of London in the distance. You’ll need a bird’s eye view for this one, but that shouldn’t be too hard to manage with skyscrapers popping up all over the place.

2) The twinkling lights of Harrods, located in Knightsbridge, which also happens to be one of my favourite views by day, too, or shall I say my favourite hang outs. The famous department store is one of the largest, if not the largest in the world. Checking it out by night won’t cost you a thing, considering what you might spend by day. Closest tube stations are Knightsbridge and Hyde Park corner.

3) Piccadilly, from Green Park to Piccadilly Circus.  It’s just vibrant, bodacious and atmospheric all at the same time.  So I am told the nightlife in the area keeps it teeming. What do I know, but when I am lucky enough to be there, I can see and feel exactly what the buzz is about.

4) Speaking of buzz, Park Lane is the place to be any time. But by night, the ritzy hotels light up and appear seductive under the moonlight. If you happen to be staying on the famous street or attending a gala there, you’re in serious luck. But if not, do catch a ride and zip alongside London taxis, Bentley’s, Maserati’s and the likes to take it all in.

5) When you tire of riding and want a stroll, go from Leicester Square to Covent Garden for a hive of activity and eclectic views.  From watching fascinating street artists to sampling exotic foods, expect to be wowed. Young and old alike gather before and after theatre or heck just gather for the fun of it.

With all this talk about wonderful views maybe those fireworks are fitting about now. Magic!

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Going the six mile distance and looking ahead

A few weeks before turning the Big 5-0 last year, I panicked that I hadn’t achieved all the things that I wanted to achieve by that milestone. What was I going to do about it? Sink or swim? After a short debate with myself, I decided to swim, though I literally don’t know how, and have never been much interested in learning either.

But I do know how to run. Ah ha! Very interesting, I thought and willed myself to sign up for a race and then running school to secure my goal. You see, I had been playing at running so to speak, since stalling in a race in middle school.

Thus, one of the fifty goals I set for myself to attain before my next birthday was to run a major race. Not to worry, all goals were not as lofty as this one.

Good thing or I’d have to admit defeat. Although, I’m thrilled to have gone the distance, well over two months before the deadline, I ache beyond what a fit finisher should ache.

Hence, the foot and leg massage at the Chelsea Day Spa.

Meanwhile, let me tell you a little bit about my race. I ran it, the British 10k, along with approximately 20,000 people, not in record time, but in 1 hour 19 minutes roughly. Metaphorically, I ran a blind race. All I can remember focusing on to any degree was the Blackfriars underpass because it was a haven of shade. Imagine.

Definitely an iconic route as pegged by the race promoters, the 10K starts on Piccadilly and winds through St James, goes along the Embankment, up to the City and back to Parliament Square and ends at the junction of Royal Horse Guards. Apparently, I passed St. James Palace, St. Paul’s Cathedral, Westminster Abbey (kind of remember) and countless more notable landmarks.

Though I have driven around and sauntered around the areas many times,  I didn’t see much Sunday.

My brother wrote yesterday and asked if I had run the entire time.

“Of course,” I boasted!

But I didn’t confess that around the 6k marker, I fiddled desperately with my iPhone until I finally had to stop and get some much needed music to spur me on. I must have lost a minute or two there,  and once in the tunnel, I stalled after being bumped and then again on the Embankment. On Victoria Street, as I turned the final corner to head to the finish line, I went into a power walk for about five seconds and realised that  walking could be the death of my finish, so back to a slow jog I went.

I made it! Photos to prove it!

Despite the hot weather and the fact that I had not trained properly throughout June, I celebrated my finish, time included,  jubilantly, perhaps a little too jubilantly.

While getting ready to meet the family for some champers, I had my first glass of the bubbly. Cool and crisp though it was, I’m not bubbling today, nor was I yesterday, climbing up and down stairs in train stations. Still I feel great to have gone the distance. Never mind the hurdles, the roadblocks, the near quits.

I am a runner; for real! I can’t promise that I will become an enthusiast or a recorder breaker for that matter, but never again, knowingly, will I stall at the start line. Never!

No looking back, for me; it’s all looking ahead. Next!

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