Category: On London

On London/

Pay by the Phone Parking, the Secret is Out

Driving in London can be rather hectic, owing to volume of traffic, road works, and various road users (cyclists, motorists, runners), which is why I drive as little as possible.

But since I moved slightly further afield, I find myself wheeling out the car at least once per week, sometimes twice. Who would have ever thought it? Small town girl confidently takes to London’s roads. Recently, two friends commended me on this very thing.

Enough bragging. There is a reason for my madness. The daughter of a retired defensive driving trainer, I happen to like driving and consider it a route to freedom, except when I can’t find a parking meter.

Thank goodness for the ‘pay by phone’ parking meters in Westminster, my main hang- out. Here is how it works:

Once parked, you read the number on the meter or sign, make a phone call and pay, having already registered with the service. For smart phone users (that’s me), it’s even easier. You download the QuickPark app on your phone, register with the service, and after parking simply enter the meter’s number into the app and follow prompts.

In both cases, you usually receive a confirmation text message from the City of Westminster within seconds, unless, of course, something’s gone wrong.

And as with Murphy’s Law, whatever can go wrong will, especially with the app. As with all apps, there are glitches to work out, updates, etc. Still, in the meantime, you can be on your merry way and sort out the immediate hiccup over the telephone.

Better yet, you needn’t rush back to the car to feed the meter with coins to extend your time. All you have to do is extend from the app, send a text or make a quick call. Hassle free, right. Well it used to be until someone tipped off everybody else.

Now I find myself circling around like a vulture, looking for one space, just one. When I can’t find one, I resort to parking in Chelsea, old school style—feeding the meter with coins. The problem here is not the coins. I always have coins when driving. It’s gauging the time. If it is too little, you have to rush back to the car to avoid a ticket, if it is too much, you’ve blown a wad of money.

A few years ago when Westminster introduced ‘pay by phone’ parking meters, I was naively outraged. What about visitors who don’t have a registered credit card, I asked? All I could think of were the times when Paul and I drove around in Edinburgh, Paris, any major city, looking for a parking space. Oh how we felt sweetly relieved when we found one, just one.

The thought of having to find yet another (like finding a needle in a haystack) due to not being registered made me speak up to anyone who would listen.

People will simply not come, I insisted.  This was also said about congestion charges, the £10 per day charge to drive in certain zones in Central London. Never mind!

Anyhow, I was assured that ‘pay by phone’ meters would revolutionise parking in Central London, cutting out the scramble for coins and the race back to meters to avoid parking fines, and so it has.

Pity, the word got out so soon. Anyhow, I know other boroughs offer the option; for instance, Lambeth. But I don’t drive there. Da! Now someone just needs to convince Kensington and Chelsea to get on board, but quietly, please!

On Life/

Christmas Wrapped Calmly in London

The Monday before Christmas lived up to its nickname, panic Monday, with last minute shoppers crowding the streets, despite the inclement weather.

Though my day got off to a calm start with a drive to Knightsbridge in record time under a dry, though dreary, sky, it catapulted into chaos by lunchtime with a tedious queue at Marks & Spencer’s car park in the pouring rain, the howling wind beating against the windows.

By nightfall, I wanted to cancel our trip to the theatre but nudge as I might, Paul and the folks at the Queen Elizabeth Hall (South Bank Centre), didn’t agree, so off in the scowling weather we went to see Fascinating Aida, a favourite cabaret trio.

The show went on and I am so glad it did. It was an evening of brilliantly scripted yet wild comedy that veered on the serious side now and again.

Founder of Fascinating Aida, Dillie Keene teamed up with Adele Anderson and Liza Pulman for a captivating show, which will run in London until January 10. After a short break, the trio will move on to Derby in February.

One song, though witty, reveals Adele Anderson’s touching story of making a major life change. According to Dillie, it took ten years to write the song, so complex and personal was the subject. That’s commitment if you ask me and certainly skill and talent.

Having seen the group perform at least three times, we weren’t disappointed. If anything, we were uplifted and ready to get on with celebrating Christmas, which included a fantastic celebration with family on Christmas Eve and a spectacular lunch on Christmas Day at Monkey Island, a remote island near Bray on the Thames, which happens to be home of two stunning peacocks.

That’s it, Christmas wrapped. New Year’s is up next. On that note, wishing everyone not only a happy and safe New Year’s celebration but also a wonderful 2014. In any case, do proceed calmly.

On Lifestyle/

Cotswolds: An expats must-know in England

“…When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford.” Samuel Johnson

Samuel Johnson’s rather dogmatic quote happens to be one of my favourite; even it does get up the nose of a few good folks. Like it or lump it, London is a first class city—playground for the imaginative. And I truly don’t tire of the place.

Still, I enjoy getting out of the capital from time to time and seeing what else England has to offer. Otherwise, there is a risk of becoming insular, as if there isn’t anything or any place else in the country.

On the contrary, England has much to offer as is evident in the prolific writing of its many literary greats, including the Brontes, who lived and wrote in Yorkshire; William Wordsworth, who lived in the Lake District; Jane Austen, who worked in Bath; Agatha Christie, who used the English Rivera as a backdrop for her detective stories; William Shakespeare, who is believed to have produced many of his works from his cottage in Stratford Upon Avon; Charles Dickens, who set stories in his birthplace,Portsmouth, and so on.

But even beyond places that have been made well known through literature, there are others as beautiful and as inspirational.

Most recently we took a short break to the Cotswolds, where nature simply is at its best. From rambling vales to rising hills, the area is a walker’s treat—saw a few runners too. Not to mention the water enthusiasts from jet skiers to swimmers, though I still can’t imagine why anyone would like to swim in the Thames.  It’s rather murky, if you ask me.

Admittedly, however, the water at the mouth of the river, flowing in a stony creek, is crystal clear and even as the river widens and deepens, you can still see through the water. Also, there are other rivers and lakes galore in the Cotswolds.

But having written about the Thames Path back in April, I was delighted to see the river’s beginning and noted that it would take about ten days to walk from its source to London. I decided to pass, as we needed to be back home much sooner.

Besides, we’d heard about the weather forecast—rainy, rainy, rainy!

In the meantime, we visited several pretty villages—Bourton on the Water, Burford, and Lechlade to name a few. Endowed with lovely trees and cobblestone streets, most of the villages have unique characteristics of some kind, whether it is a 15thcentury church or a lovely water source running through it.

In terms of commonality, however, the English villages all feature  very beautiful limestone, a local church, a village hall, and pubs and tearooms, some more charming than others. For example, I can highly recommend the Lamb Inn for its delicious food, great ambience and hospitable service.

Meanwhile, in addition to its lovely villages, rivers, lakes, valleys and woods, where some wildlife can be seen, the Cotswolds also has nature reserves and farm parks, gardens, museums and endless country lanes and roads with quaint names such as Down Ampney, Charlham Lane, Beech Lea and Meysey’s Close. Sounds like a television show, a short story, a movie, doesn’t it?

No wonder such towns are often used as a backdrop for storytelling. Anyhow, for shopping and the likes, the pretty town of Cirencester is nearby as are other mid-size cities.

For an opportunity to see traditional England at its most natural, the Cotswolds is an expat’s must know. Great stop for those on holiday who want to see England outside of the capital, too.

On Lifestyle/

Expat writer prepares to go the distance

Yesterday morning I completed my last run before my first 10K on Sunday. Hurray! As I came to the end of the 5.1-mile run, I felt like I had accomplished the 6.2-mile job already.

Make no mistake about it, the run wasn’t easy and I’m sure Sunday’s won’t be easy either, maybe tougher. Meanwhile, I caught up with Paul before he dashed out to work and he, who never tells me I look a mess, couldn’t hold his tongue.

Never mind!

But having come back from the US just over a week ago with little preparation during the month of June, I wouldn’t have thought that I could make four miles, certainly not five.

And though I struggled at the 3.86-mile marker, I dug deep. The Chelsea Bridge, a mile behind me and the Albert Bridge, less than a quarter of a mile, I looked towards Wandsworth Bridge, theoretically. At that stage, I couldn’t see it for the bend in the Thames Path.

Still, I somehow convinced my knees and the rest of me that it was a necessary task to reach that bridge. It would serve us all well.

If the lady who smiled widely at me around that time is reading this, I’m glad for the opportunity to explain my singing, more like moaning. I was struggling and found myself digging deep to keep going. Thank Heavens for Kirk Franklin’s Smile and your smile too!

I couldn’t help smiling that last mile myself. After stretching and showering, I went through my email messages to find tips from the race promoters and the training program I am following:

Pick up my race pack  – ✔

Plan attire – ✔

Hydrate – Working on it but admittedly was stomped by the advice not to drink sports drink with protein until I read up on it. Eek so protein might have been at the centre of my digestion woes during Monday’s run. In any case, all is well that ends well!

Head to the start line – Will do with plenty of time.

And remember you always have one cup left. Good because I am going to need it!

In the meantime, I’m continuing to carb load but not too much and I’ve given my muscles some strength training as promised today to ensure that my knees are not the only ones working. Tomorrow, I’ll spend recovering.

And Sunday, I’ll run, bringing the mileage since April to 86 miles. A closer inspection might reveal that I didn’t put in nearly enough miles to properly prepare for a 10K , but at first glance, it looks like a heap of miles. Yeah!

On London/

Views in London: playground for imagination

Last week I wrote about the civility of Chelsea pensioners. This week, I’m compelled to mention pensioners in Chelsea outside of the Royal Hospital Chelsea (RHC).

Let’s just say that they are quite the opposite of civil. Tuesday as I made my way from the RHC to the King’s Road, I encountered retiree after retiree hogging the sidewalk; some even edged people off onto the road.

So much for the English genteel! Maybe it’s the frigid weather that has them ever so cantankerous. Though the official word is that spring came last week, winter remains unofficially and stubbornly. Strong winds and snow flurries continue to unsettle London while heavy snow and ice plague other cities throughout the country.

No wonder folks are stupefied. Never mind. I am not writing about civility this week. I’m writing about things I can see from my windows. So I guess that means I’m stuck too, albeit in my flat.

In these frigid temperatures, I’m lucky that there’s so much to see from my windows. At my former residence, I could see a winged lady on the building behind me–Miranda, my muse. End of blog.

Here, however, I have a bird’s eye view that makes for a great playground for the imagination.

So imagine if you will, rolling hills that seem to meet an idyllic body of water, though the water is actually the sky in the distance. What a striking panorama. Then envisage endless row houses with jutting chimney stacks. At a stretch, this could be Edinburgh or even Dubrovnik. Suit yourself!

Coming in a bit closer, imagine trains whizzing by and then periodically a cloud of white smoke appearing and out of that smoke comes the Orient Express. Actually, it’s the British Pullman, sister train to the Orient Express. All the same it’s easy to imagine yourself relaxing in one of the 1920s vintage carriages of the svelte train.

Now imagine a day trip to another city in the country or even a jaunt to Venice.

Next, notice the traffic crossing the massive roundabout below. Boring, right? Wrong! From a high vantage point, traffic doesn’t faze you. In fact, it intrigues you. Vehicles seem surreal moving on quietly. It’s like watching a silent film.

And now and again something extraordinary enters the scene such as a horse drawn carriage followed by six limousines.

Imagine gazing on as if you somehow knew the departed and then feeling sympathy and reverence simultaneously. When the moment passes, imagine reflecting on the giant sculpture at the centre of the roundabout. Like most feel about Anish Kapoor’s Orbit, you either like it or loathe it.

Undecided,  you look to the faithful Thames where you can imagine boats and barges sailing by and people running and walking nearby despite the frigid weather, but you don’t have to imagine they are there.  Thank your lucky stars for the windows. What would you do without them? You’d probably imagine anyhow, but not with such a wide open playground at your disposal.

Blog/

Open roads in London: No dead end in sight

When I hit the big birthday last autumn, I compiled a confidential list of 50 things to accomplish before my next birthday. I maintained there was no point in blabbing about the matter the way people often do about New Year’s resolutions or bucket lists, neither of which I am a fan of, precisely why I didn’t opt for either on my special occasion. Both a bit dead end-ish, if you ask me.

With that said, I really enjoyed the movie, The Bucket List.

Anyhow, I knew I had to mark the special year somehow, aside from a big soiree, which was great fun but fizzled out soon after it was over. My confidential list (aka London confidential), lives on–no dead end in sight.

Though I am still not going to spill all of the beans, I am compelled to tell you about one item on my list–to run a major race by autumn 2013.

Big deal you might say, and you are not the only one. Turns out I am not the only person running a race. When I mentioned my 10K to friends and family, I found that some had been there and done that and others were well on the way.

One friend ran her first marathon when she hit the big 5-0 and is still running several marathons later. A 10K is a doddle to her.

Not to me I tell you. I need all the help I can get, which is why I asked the said friend to run with me. And meanwhile, I’ve joined a running school, another benefit of living in my new neighbourhood. Body Logic Health in Battersea is one of the eleven UK locations of The Running School.

To this announcement, readers, friends and family alike responded with a question mark. Running comes naturally, many reminded; it need not be taught. One even went so far as to point out that she would never pay to do something that she already does very well.

Running school is just another big city ploy, she insinuated, contorting her face.

Bear with I told her and quoted from The Running School’s handbook.

“Although it (running) seems the most natural thing in the world to do, many people don’t know how to run efficiently without getting injured, and to achieve their goal or challenge.”

That’s me–blown out knees, pulled hamstrings, and low stamina resulting in an unfinished race or never started race. No more, I vowed.

After hearing me out, my acquaintance had to admit to more than her fair share of injuries.

So off to school I went last Thursday to learn how to run and to run fast!  But before then I had been videotaped and assessed by an instructor at the school. Not bad, not bad, the instructor said but there was much room for improvement.

Moving forward, I’ve spent one intense hour of the six hourly sessions not only running but also flexing and strengthening muscles to improve my overall technique.  Throughout the session, I admitted to feeling unnatural, focusing on coordinating my arms and legs, but also feeling taller and stronger as I did so.

This lofty feeling was worth hanging onto I tell you. It sustained me when I thought I couldn’t carry-on, not only during the session but also during training and practicing in between.

Admittedly, I am finding it hard going, trying to get the best out of my arms, my legs, my torso, while running and walking but I can already see the benefits and it is early days yet. My second session is tomorrow and the third one the week afterwards and so on and so on.

There is no dead end in sight, only open roads to look forward to.

On London/

Sticking with my pen on London

Since my last post here, life has been a bit of a treadmill, sorting out our move and travelling to and from the US and doing a few other things here, there and in between.  I haven’t slowed down yet.

Only this week did we get home broadband service again and sadly it is spotty at best. Yet, I do have a wider perspective on London as predicted. From where I sit in my new office, I can see the Thames, England’s longest river. Quite contrary to the gentle rain falling is the roaring wind, causing the river to wave.

And though the first signs of night have come over London, it is a remarkable scene; even if it is framed by two tremendous buildings. Never mind the boxes surrounding me. Were it not for my aversion to frigid rain, frigid anything, I would walk onto the balcony.  Instead, however, I’ll mosey into my living room, where I can see Fulham stretching out before me in one direction and Wandsworth in another. The views are painting perfect.

Maybe one of these days I’ll take a brush to the scenery. But for now, I’m going to stick with my pen theoretically. In reality, my keyboard will have to do. And those who know my penmanship are saying thank goodness. In any case, I’m writing.

Needless to say, I’ve been lax yet again. And instead of grovelling and offering excuses, I’m going to chalk it up to a lax year at the risk of turning this into a New Year’s column.

With all the change that I’ve experienced this year, I am ready for resolve. But why wait for January 1 to start. I might as well start now by appreciating the brand new day.

So I am told the broadband problem will be fixed easily but until then, I’ll just have to turn to mobile devices such as my iPad and explore the area for Wi-Fi fitted coffee shops. Already, I’ve found one jewel–Cake Boy, Eric Lanlard’s creation.

Yesterday, I had a meeting there and wasn’t surprised to find it heaving with locals and others alike. My guest went on about how wonderful the place is. So it is; good thing there is a gym nearby.

This morning I returned and sat near a group of pregnant women and ignore them as I tried, I couldn’t. Not only were there bumps interesting but also there conversation was too, all about names.

Naming a child can be difficult, they all agreed, especially a first child. Not to mention the interfering from friends and relatives and the syncing first names with surnames. One woman said she loved the name Emma but her surname was something like Tremor.

Surely I heard wrong but you get the point anyhow.

Good material to include in a novel, a short story, a blog I thought, as I tuned out. Then suddenly it hit me I was writing again. I was changing my perspective. Ah ha!

I hurried back to my office and started this blog. And though I didn’t conclude until afternoon, it is refreshing to have a change of perspective.

More perspective next week!

On Lifestyle/

Times Have Changed Since the Olympics

Women playing basketball and men jumping rope, Double Dutch at that, epitomised Day 2 of the 2012 Olympics. My, how times have changed since the first modern games in 1896.

But what hasn’t changed is the enthusiasm and drive of the athletes nor has the ingenuity of human beings. You have to see it to believe it. Honestly, before the Olympic Park and Westfield Shopping Centre of course, it was just land. Land!

But do not despair over lost land. It has been put to good use for the love of country and for sport, of course. From Anish Kapoor’s Olympic sculpture, the Arclor Mittal Orbit (like or it loathe it) to the sleek Aquatics Center, the crowds, me included, ooh and aah at every vista. Not to mention the enthusiasm for the up close and personal experiences.

You should have heard the crowds roar for the women’s basketball teams. Yes! We had a top row seat inside the arena, fondly called the mattress by BBC Breakfast presenter Bill Turnbill. To continue with that metaphor, the arena, though gigantic,  was cozy and comfy.

I can’t claim to have been in that many arenas over the years, though I have been in plenty of gymnasiums, but of the two or three I have visited, I can say that the mattress matched up. So what if it didn’t have a hotdog stand for my American friend but the sound, the energy, the crowds made up for it.

So we did, but speaking of coming a long way, women athletes most certainly have. So many of them are setting new records and clenching the medals. Eyes are on Zara Phillips, the Queen’s granddaughter, today as she rides with Team GB in the equestrian event.

Other women are raising the game too, case in point: the USA Women’s basketball team. I can’t say enough about their finesse, their professionalism. No wonder they have won thirty-four consecutive games as of last night.

As I watched them play, I attempted to text every American I could get in touch with to ask, if nothing else, why so secretive? These women are a national treasure and will surely change the game of women’s basketball the world over, if they already haven’t.

See my views on women’s athletes at London 2012 in my HuffPost blog.

Meanwhile, I’m exhausted today. Still on a high, I’m already thinking about what kind of shoes I’ll wear the next time we head out to the Olympic Park. Though I have found the travel advisories to be more bark than bite, the tips on getting around the park are real.

Comfortable shoes are a must as is rain wear and a darn good jacket. Never mind that this is the last day of July.  Gone are the days when summer was summer and winter was winter and so on.

My, how times have changed.

On Life/

No rain, no wind can stop the heat of London

June 11, 2012 – If you are in London today, my advice is to stay in, unless you really have to go out!

I know, I know, that’s not sound advice for tourism, coming from one of the capital’s biggest fans. Sorry but the rain is dogged and wet and cold, so much so that I cannot think of another thing to write about this week. Honestly.

All I can think is that I hope the rain, as soft as it is, doesn’t carry on for Wimbledon, for the Olympics, heck for summer.

But what if it does? We can’t stay in all summer. Some people have to get out to work, albeit I can stay here and work, and God knows I have plenty to do. But I do have things to do outside you know such as getting to the hair salon.

And as the famous Ain’t No Mountain High Enough lyrics go: “No wind no rain or winters cold can stop me baby.”

Call me conceited, but this is a proven fact. I went this morning.

So why am I telling you to give up your holiday for the rain. You came here to play. After all, London is one of the world’s greatest cities. Apologies, I stand corrected. Tourists and Londoners alike get out and enjoy the capital.

Here are the top five things (in my view) to do when the rain won’t go away:

  • Get thee to the Tate Modern. You can spend the day there browsing from floor to the floor and when you’ve had enough, check out one of the cafes or the restaurant on Level 7.  Even if you don’t dine there, you can see one of the best views in London, including the Millennium Bridge and St. Paul’s Cathedral. And when the rain lets up, make your way across the bridge to St. Paul’s.
  • If you don’t want to venture as far as the South Bank, get thee to South Kensington and enjoy the museums, all of them–the V & A, the Science Museum, and the Natural History Museum–if you can squeeze them in. And somewhere in between have a bite to eat at one of the trendy restaurants in the area.  I can highly recommend the Hummingbird Bakery for the world’s best cupcakes. Not a meal but some have been known to make a meal out of the carrot cake cupcakes.
  • If you’re sixteen and you think art galleries and museums are for your parents, get thee to Westfield Shopping Centre in Shepherd’s Bush. It’s all there, but you’ll need plenty of dosh for this upscale haunt. So drag your parents along if you can. If you can’t, well, never mind! Go anyhow. Also, Westfield has a centre in Stratford, near the Olympic Village.
  • Don’t really want a mall, can get that at home, so you want something indigenous to London–Harrods! Yes get thee to the celebrated British department store, located in the heart of Knightsbridge. You could spend the day there, browsing and gawking. And when you’ve had enough, take your pick of restaurant or café right there.
  • Exhausted now… Get thee to a spa for a pedicure, manicure, or facial, whatever you fancy. My favourite at the moment is Hush on Pimlico Road. Ask for Cindy for the world’s best manicure.

Anyhow, whatever you do, kit out in a good rain coat, rain hat and umbrella. If you don’t, you might need a good hair salon and I know just the one — the Award Winning Junior Green in Knightsbridge. If you can, see one of the owners Joy or Junior. If not, any stylist there will do. Promise!

There, all dry and comfy now and feeling the heat again. Umm, maybe the warmth will have to do.