Oof. Sunday was a funny sort of day. By now, London had sweltered through a full week of over 30C temperatures and everyone was over it.
Corinna, her flat ate Michelle and I listlessly dragged ourselves around the apartment, before finally deciding that Corinna and I would go to
Wait rose, the supermarket around the corner, and buy some readymade meals for lunch and dinner.
On our return, we ate and then decided we’d go to the Natural History Museum.
This was a mistake.
If you have children, then this would probably be a great place to entertain them for a while. There was certainly enough of them around the place.
We had two things we wanted to see. Corinna was keen to see a collection of photos that the photographer had taken of places in the arctic circle that had links to oil / petrol / other evil stuff.
She enjoyed it. Me? Not so much. I got bored with looking at buildings surrounded by snow. I’m the silly sort of person who wants to see real dinosaur bones in a natural history museum.
There was a dodo!
And another one!
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This is the famous Blue Whale skeleton, suspended high above us all in the central hall.
Corinna and some giraffes. See how droopy she looks? The cool change hadn’t arrived then.
This was the only interesting thing in the dinosaur exhibit. This little dinosaur had eaten a crocodile and then was frozen in time.
The bones of the crocodile can still be seen in its stomach.
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Zero in on the pterodactyl above the window.
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Oof. Sunday was a funny sort of day. By now, London had sweltered through a full week of over 30C temperatures and everyone was over it.
Corinna, her flat ate Michelle and I listlessly dragged ourselves around the apartment, before finally deciding that Corinna and I would go to
Wait rose, the supermarket around the corner, and buy some readymade meals for lunch and dinner.
On our return, we ate and then decided we’d go to the Natural History Museum.
This was a mistake.
If you have children, then this would probably be a great place to entertain them for a while. There was certainly enough of them around the place.
We had two things we wanted to see. Corinna was keen to see a collection of photos that the photographer had taken of places in the arctic circle that had links to oil / petrol / other evil stuff.
She enjoyed it. Me? Not so much. I got bored with looking at buildings surrounded by snow. I’m the silly sort of person who wants to see real dinosaur bones in a natural history museum.
There was a dodo!
And another one! This one looks very unimpressed at being extinct.
I noticed a lot of fossils had this woman’s name attached to them. It’s worth reading the information tag about her, especially the third paragraph. Like, really???
Here’s one of the fossils she discovered. There was heaps of them.
This is the famous Blue Whale skeleton, suspended high above us all in the central hall.
Corinna and some giraffes. See how droopy she looks? The cool change hadn’t arrived then.
This was the only interesting thing in the dinosaur exhibit. This little dinosaur had eaten a crocodile and then was frozen in time.
The bones of the crocodile can still be seen in its stomach.
We went to the dinosaur section. Corinna weighed up the situation much quicker than I did and she was out of there, messaging me that she was going to the cafe to buy some water.
As I emerged from the hellscape that is the dinosaur section, I messaged Corinna. While I’d been knee-deep in screaming kids, she’d been having a lovely time wandering around and looking at the building.
She remembered it from a school trip in childhood and was really pleased to see it again.
Once she started pointing things out to me, I saw it. This building is beautifully designed.
The brickwork and gargoyles alone are amazing. Such attention to detail!
Suddenly the trip was all worthwhile.
When we emerged, the cool change had finally hit. I didn’t realise quite how much Corinna had been affected by the heat. She revived in front of my eyes!
We looked at a modern art gallery, which neither of us liked, then we grabbed a coffee and sat outside and talked about all sorts of things.
(Zero in on the pterodactyl above the window.)
One of the best things about staying here with Corinna was our conversations. She’s a very deep thinker and our talks ranged all over the place. It was lovely to spend so much time together.
After our coffee it was time to go and see ‘ The Gunpowder Plot’, which coincidentally was situated right next to our tube station of Tower Hill.
This play was an immersive experience. I’d never done one of these before and it was fun. With a mix of live actors, VR helmets and a maze of sets that we were guided around, we became part of the gunpowder plotters.
The part where we were put in a priest hole and they “searched” for us was actually quite good. It gave a slight flavour of what it would have been like to be hiding in one. This will become relevant later on.
Two funny things:
Corinna knew one of the actors. They went to university together.
The character of the priest had my real life name.
We walked back home along the docks, ate our Waitrose dinners, worked out how much I owed Corinna for tickets she’d bought along the way, then I fell into bed. I mean… my couch.
Tomorrow I leave Corinna and Tower Hill and I’ll be travelling to the suburbs to meet my friend Deana.
Corinna has the weekend free so last night we worked out what we wanted to do today.
First up, after a very leisurely start to the day, which I much appreciated, we went for a walk along the canals in Wapping to go to a small local market.
Along the way, she entertained me with tales of Wapping during lockdowns, when Whatapp groups would form and sometimes big drama would unfold. People would be messaging each other, “ Have you seen what’s going down on the Wapping tennis group??”
Here’s the view from over our shoulders. The Shard seems to pop up everywhere.
Corinna loves living here, and I don’t blame her.
The day was already getting very hot. We got to the market, which is a tiny little local one, tucked away in the midday of the suburb by the canals. We looked at watercolours, and I successfully avoided buying one because I spent so much money on my picture the day before. Corinna bought an iced latte or something and we sat on the water’s edge in the shade, people watching.
“They play a type of water polo here, with men in canoes,” said Corinna. “It’s bizarre, seeing these burly men all trying to tip each other’s boats over and hitting the ball with their oars.” She also said that there are a few deaths every year in the canals, probably drunk people light-heartedly jumping in and then getting snagged.
We then took a different walk home, along the river. Here’s our old friend the Shard again.
Look at this! In a couple of days time I’d be riding over Tower bridge in a double-decker bus. How lucky can one woman be?
We took a snap to send to the Antarctica group. It’s amazing how often we’ve seen each other since then.
A little place called the Tower of London was along our route home. God, how I loved the tower when I was here last time in 2015. I think I dragged Scott to see every last brick of the place. And then I saw this:
The Traitors Gate from the outside! I was so thrilled.
This weekend was boiling, with temperatures in the low thirties. Even I was starting to feel it, but poor Corinna was dying. We decided that chasing aircon was going to be the theme of the weekend. so off we went to Somerset House, to the Courtold Gallery, to see some art.
I loved this one. It’s’Cupid and Psyche’ by Reynolds, where Psyche first catches a glimpse of the young man who’s been visiting her at night.
I felt sorry for this girl. Here’s what the information card said:
George Romney (1734-1802)
Portrait of Georgiana, Lady Greville
Around 1771-72
George Romney painted this portrait around the time Georgiana Peachey married the politician Lord Greville. It was the artist’s first aristocratic commission. The sitter wears fine outdoor clothing and a fashionable headdress that express her wealth and high social status. She looks away modestly, as was thought appropriate for a young noble woman. Georgiana died on her first wedding anniversary, aged 19, a few days after giving birth.
The gallery currently has an exhibition of fakes and frauds. It’s worth reading the explanation for this one.
It’s a thrill when you see the actual originals of images that you’ve seen your whole life. This is Renoir’s ‘La Lage’ ( the theatre box).
Both people are wearing black and white, but look at how the woman stands out so much more than the man.
I love a Rodin sculpture.
Ah, the ballerina paintings! The info card reads:
Edgar Degas (1834-1917)
Two Dancers on a Stage
1874
Edgar Degas was fascinated by ballet, producing over a thousand works on the subject. While this work appears to depict a performance, the presence of a third ballerina at rest indicates it may in fact be a dress rehearsal, to which Degas was often granted access.
The painting’s side view is unconventional. It is as if we are observing from a box at the edge of the stage. The lines on the floor, which may represent tracks for sliding scenery, emphasise Degas’s dynamic composition while evoking the staging of ballet.
I loved the feel of this one.
Of course, everyone knows who this is. The bandage over the cut-off ear is a dead giveaway.
There were other paintings that I loved, but Deana and I are heading out soon so I’ll cut it short.
Once we came out of the gallery we headed out into the quadrangle of Somerset House. This place is HUGE.
The quadrangle has a water feature of many jets of water shooting upwards. The place was alive with children, all having a wonderful time getting wet. The place was alive with the squeals and laughter of happy kids. Corinna and I grabbed a table in the shade and sat here for ages, just watching the kids and chatting. It was lovely.
We were off to the theatre, but first we had a delicious meal from Nomad’s pre-theatre menu. We loved the aircon here! It felt absolutely freezing when we walked in, but it’s amazing how quickly the body gets used to things. Within a couple of minutes we felt utterly comfortable.
Yum. Then it was off to the theatre!
When ‘Six’ was in Melbourne, Jenna urged me to go and see it, saying that I’d love it.
Of course, a musical about Henry VIII’s wives certainly hits all my buttons. It was terrific. What I really enjoyed was that they didn’t muck around with the actual history of the wives. All of the information was accurate. I could relax and enjoy the show without being pulled out of the show by jarring lyrics.
Definitely going to be adding these songs to my Spotify when I get home!
First stop of the day was Kensington Palace. I wasn’t terrifically excited about seeing this, but it was a convenient thing to see in the morning, before I made the trek to see the next thing on the list in the afternoon.
I had a ticket for 10AM. As I was walking across the park toward the palace, the heat was already noticeable.
Lots of families and groups of young mums, buggies and dogs in tow, were sitting in the shade under trees. As I walked, Kensington Palace came into view, the gilt on the gates glistening in the sun.
I was surprised that there was no airport style security here. Each bag was searched by hand.
The tour is divided into two sections. The first is a fashion exhibition – “ From Court to Couture.” The next was the permanent exhibition of Queen Victoria’s childhood.
So what’s so important about these stairs? Why, only that these two lovebirds first met on them!
Victoria was smitten by his dashing good looks from the start. Fun fact : she had to propose to him because, being a queen, she outranked him.
Queen Victoria ended up HATING her mother.
Queen Victoria was actually lucky to be born. She never would’ve existed except for the fact that her cousin Princess Charlotte, who was George IV’s only legitimate heir, died in childbirth. The king was never going to have another heir – he and his wife lived apart and absolutely loathed each other. But he had 3 brothers who were single…
Some of them were living contentedly with their longtime mistresses and families, but that all changed when Charlotte died. They were ordered to get married to suitable wives and get busy producing heirs asap.
Two of them actually produced kids- a girl and a boy. But because Victoria’s dad was the elder of the two dads, she became heir. Her daddy promptly died, leaving Victoria’s mum to bring her up. The royal family didn’t like her much – the mother, I mean – especially when she made Sir John Conroy the head of the princess’s household. Over time, they both became very keen on the idea of running the regency should Victoria become Queen before the age of 18. By this time, another king was on the throne – his wife is whom Adelaide in Australia is named for – and although he was failing in health, he vowed to stay alive until she’d reached that magic birthday.
Conroy’s rules for the princess were very controlling. She was never allowed to use the staircase alone, she had to share her bedroom with her mother and that’s all I can remember, though there were more.
When Victoria was 16, she was very sick from a fever and while she was so sick, her mother tried to force her to sign a paper giving the regency to herself and Conroy. Victoria refused, perhaps showing the first sign of that stubbornness she showed in later life.
. As soon as Victoria became queen, shortly after her 18th birthday , she moved from Kensington to Buckingham palace, sacked Conroy and put her mother’s rooms at the opposite side of the palace to hers. Fair enough, too.
When I entered the palace, first I had to go through the fashion exhibition. For anyone who follows fashion and celebrities, this exhibition would be amazing. For me, I was more interested in the older exhibits, so that’s pretty much what you’re going to see.
This is a silver court dress from Charles II’s time.
This is the widest surviving court gown in Britain at nearly three metres wide. At Court, most people chose to make an impact wearing expensive brocaded fabrics.
This is a plain silk and so would have been cheaper fabric to buy. However its size and the sheer quality of workmanship and design make up for the less expensive fabric. Worn in 1760.
What got me about this tiara was the “accepted by the government in lieu of inheritance taxes” bit.
Here’s a list of the rules Princess Victoria had to follow. Once I’d finished seeing her rooms it was time to see the Diana memorial.
The sunken garden where her memorial statue is located is surrounded on 3 sides by this walkway, with strategic spots being cut out for views. Considering that this was another 30C day, you have no idea how welcome this shade was. I sat here on a bench for a while, contemplatively licking the ice cream cone I bought earlier.
After this, I jumped on a bus and went for 12 stops to a place called 575 Wandsworth Road. I fell asleep along the way and only woke up when I dropped my water bottle with a CRASH.
I was coming here to see a National Trust property that I saw online a couple of months ago. The description was very brief, but it said that they only allow tours of 6 and that you have to take off your shoes to protect the painted floors. What sealed the deal for me was that they only run tours here two days a week, and they only release spots for the tours a month ahead.
There has to be something niche about this house, I thought, as I began stalking the website. Then, one day I logged on and there it was! Tickets available on “my” week! I dithered… Thursday or Friday? I had to hurry… those places could go at any second! I jabbed at Thursday and the deed was done. because I was a National Trust member in Australia, ( my card arrived a few days before I left), I was able to get in for free. Bargain!
Along the way, I saw this rhinoceros being suspended from a building. I was on the upper floor of a double decker. This was just before I took that nap I was telling you about earlier.
Here it is. Such a nondescript place. No sign outside except for the tiny one obviously put there only when it’s open. I had a big chunk of time to kill before 3 o’clock so I made myself comfy in the shade and began writing a blog post for Greenwich.
After a while the previous tour group came out. One woman said to me, “You’re going to love it. It’s like setting foot into Narnia!”
As it turned out, 3 people didn’t show, so I was on the smallest tour ever. This house is totally unique. I’m so glad I visited.
Basically, this house has carved fretwork everywhere. Khadambi Asalache bought this house in the 80’s and set about making it entirely his own space. A bit like what I’m doing with my place, but I’m not putting in anything like this effort that he did!
When I woke, it was to lots of birthday wishes from everyone I love. Yes, today Frogdancer Jones enters a new decade!
I was originally supposed to arrive today, but I brought my trip a few days forward so that I could be sure that I could attend lunch at the Sky Garden with Scott.
But first I had to check out of the hotel and get to Corinna’s place. As I was zipping up my case, the fire alarm sounded. I looked around the room, then at my fully packed bags and thought, “We’ll, I’m ok to evacuate!” and I left.
Seeing Corinna again was so lovely. The street numbers on her street aren’t very clear, so she had to come out on her balcony to guide me in.
“I can see you,” she called.
“I can’t see you!” I called back.
I dropped my case, we had a quick chat and then she was off to work and I was off to meet Scott, who was coming down by train from his place in Market Harborough.
He suggested we meet outside a church that is near a big junction of roads. Citimapper got confused, but luckily I bumped into a woman giving away chocolate truffles – she gave me 5 when I said it was my birthday – and she directed me down the correct arm of the junction. She used to live in Sydney.
I was sitting on the steps of the church, blogging about Buckingham Palace when Scott arrived. Big hugs all round and after a quick look at the church – St Mary Woolnoth for all of those T S Elliot fans out there – we walked to the Sky Garden.
( This tall pillar with gold on top marks where the Great Fire in 1666 first started. It destroyed over 80% of the city.)
It’s as the name suggests… it’s a garden in a skyscraper. It’s free to get in, but you have to book in advance otherwise half of London might turn up on any given day. There are 3 restaurants. We were heading for the mid tier one.
Before we went in for lunch, we had a look around.
Scott said that The Shard’s viewing platforms were higher, but they were so high as to be almost too removed from the ground below. The Shy Garden’s platforms are high enough to have the city sprawled out below, but you can still see people. You’re still a part of the city.
Lunch was delectable. We were given a window table and the first thing we ordered was a glass of bubbly each, to celebrate this auspicious day.
Over lunch we began the big “ catch up “ conversation. It was such a treat, sitting across from such a good friend, with an extraordinary view below, eating the best plate of food I’ve had in a looong while.
It was worth coming here a few days easily to ensure I didn’t miss it.
After lunch we went on a walking tour of Landon’s City district. It was interesting, but was made completely memorable when, after Corinna happened to send me 4 or 5 WhatsApp messages, the guide rather snappishly told me to stop filming him.
As I was doing no such thing, I quickly set him straight and he was very nice to me for the rest of the walk. But there was no tip for him at the end!
The day was hot at 32C, so we sheltered in an ancient Roman exhibition that was really boring, but the aircon was excellent! Then upstairs in an air conditioned Starbucks we continued our conversation until it was time for Scott to catch his train.
It was a beautiful birthday present, but the day wasn’t over yet.
I walked back to Corinna’s after leaving the tube, passing by these two beauties.
Just wonderful. I had to walk along the docks for a bit. It was bustling with people and there were a few boats too.
Corinna took me to an Israeli restaurant for my birthday. I’ve never tasted Israeli cuisine before and it was amazing! The complexities of the many spices used in each dish were like a party on the tongue.
With free birthday shots from the restaurant and a cocktail each, we were feeling no pain. We lingered over dinner and then took the 2 walks and 2 trains home.
It was an absolutely wonderful birthday and the perfect way to enter into a new decade.
Today turned out to be another very hot day in London. My arrival coincided with one of the biggest heat waves on record here. Day after day of 30C heat.
Of course, I turned up wearing merino wool, almost from head to toe. This week was going to be a test for the dress and the t shirts!
Greenwich village is a little way down from London proper, but a short ride on the tube, the monorail and a short walk was all that was required to get me to the first stop of the day.
The Queen’s House.
I got there a little early so I settled myself on the balcony outside and gazed at this glorious view. Isn’t it beautiful? It’s the perfect mix of old and new.
Then I saw Deana approaching across the lawn. She was giving me a Greenwich tour for my birthday.
Deana and I met eight years ago when I announced on the frog blog that I was going over to the UK. She emailed and introduced herself, explaining that she’d read the blog for years and invited me to stay at her place for a few days.
She didn’t sound like an axe murderer so I accepted. I spent 3 happy days with Deana and her family, and she took me to see Hever Castle ( Anne Boleyn’s childhood home), Jane Austen’s house in Hampshirite, which is an absolute Must See) and Canterbury Cathedral.
It’s been a long time between visits, but here we are again!
The Queen’s house has an interesting history that, if I was blogging on my laptop I’d link to it, but I’m not so you”ll have to do it yourself. It has many beautiful things in it, but I was here to see one thing in particular- the Armada portrait of Elizabeth I.
There are a lot of paintings here, which isn’t surprising as the house was an art studio during Charles II’s reign. He allowed a family of maritime Dutch painters to work here, so there are MANY paintings of maritime battles and such. Yet there are other paintings hidden among them that delighted me as well.
I loved this painting, It’s a Rembrandt, called “Christ and St Mary Magdalene at the tomb.” It’s depicting when she sees Christ and realised that the impossible has happened and he’s risen from the dead.
He is sporting a nice sun hat. I guess it’s sensible – it’s warm in the Middle East.
This one is really cool. It’s “The Parting Cheer” by O’Neil. It’s showing the pain and heartbreak of those left behind when their loved ones sail away towards a new life. I love that there’s one little girl who’s aware of our presence and is looking straight at us.
These paintings are of the Normandy landings in 1944, by Stephen Bone. They think they were painted on the spot because there are traces of sand caught in the paint.
Look at the beauty of the Tulip Stairs.
We loved them!
Charles II gave permission for a father and son team to live at the Queen’s House and paint. Here is a picture of the father, Willem van der Velda. It’s thought that the parchment he’s holding was originally blank, but his son, (same name but with “the younger “ attached) painted some plans that his father had been working on. Sort of like saying, “This is what my Dad did.”
This is an engraved Nautilus shell. I actually have one of these in my china cabinet at home. My grandmother Dolly found it on a beach in Queensland and was so happy about it. This one is far larger than mine, but I know how delicate they are. Being able to carve into one is great craftsmanship.
This is a very early Australian painting. The emu isn’t bad, but the kangaroos are a little chunky.
look at the next two pictures. I never knew this guy existed. Imagine if he had’ve lived? Maybe England wouldn’t have executed their king? It’s funny how history exists on the spin of a coin sometimes.
Poor thing.
Here’s his mum, Anne of Denmark. Notice her pearls. I’ll be referring to them a bit later on.
Mary I, ( Henry VIII’ daughter, also known as’Bloody Mary’ because she burnt a few Protestants at the stake) and her husband Phillip II of Spain.
Poor Mary led a thwarted life. Henry VIII has a lot to answer for when it comes to the women in his life.
Henry VIi , who defeated Richard II and ended the War of the Roses. He doesn’t look too happy about it. Below is his grandson Edward, Henry VIII’s long desired son. It’s sad to think that he died at 16, poor boy.
His big sister Elizabeth, looking regal. A guide here told us that Elizabeth had once had a miniature painted of her, and forever after, she insisted that anyone who painted her had to copy her face from that miniature.
It must’ve been like getting a great driver’s licence photo. You want to hang on to it forever.
Here he is. The man whose grave I’ll be standing on in 3 day’s time.
Charles I and his wife Henrietta Maria. He believed so strongly in the divine right of kings that he refused to compromise and move with the times. It ended up costing him his head.
Remember him. He comes up again a few days later.
And then I walked into a room the same as all the others… and there she was.
Queen Elizabeth I, after the English had kicked Spanish butts when they tried to invade. Remember the portrait of Mary I and her husband Phillip?
He was the one who tried to take England from Elizabeth. What an arse.
anyway, look at how she’s standing proudly. One hand is on a globe of the world, with her finger pointing to Virginia, the first colony in America and the first one named after her.
Her gown is embroidered with the sun and moon symbols. In medieval portraiture, the king is the sun and the queen the moon. She is stating that she embodies both.
the panels at the back show before and after pictures of the Spanish armada. Really rubbing it in.
and look at those pearls. Look familiar? Anne of Denmark has recycled them and worn them in a different way in her portrait.
I was a little bit happy. Here’s a few close-ups
Look at the pearls. They have an iridescence about them.
It’s also a statement of wealth. Pearls were horrendously expensive back then, as they had to be dived for and searched for. Therefore, having strings of matched pearls like this is a tremendous show of wealth.
And look at the feathers in this fan!
I was so happy to see this portrait. What a piece of history! She’s saying to the world, “ Phillip fucked around and found out. Don’t mess with me.”
I love it.
After that feast for the eyes, we sat in a shaded spot and ate the picnic Deana brought. Then it was a walk up a VERY steep hill to see The Royal Observatory. This is where the famous meridian line is located. Here I am doing the obligatory photo with one foot east and one west. It had Sydney, Canberra and Hobart, but no Melbourne.
We wandered around the cobbled courtyard and found ourselves at a little balcony overlooking the wonderful view we’d seen before. Then I saw a sign directing people to the Camera Obscura.
Obviously I couldn’t take a photo in the dark, but trust me – the picture that was projected down from the mirror in the chimney was a perfect representation of The Queen’s House. What made it even more memorable was that it wasn’t a static image, like a photograph. Every time a car went past, you could see it moving, which really brought home that we’re not just looking at a photograph, but we’re seeing the space in real time.
Remember the photo at the top of this post? Here’s the same view but from the hill at the Observatory. There’s the Queen’s House.
Next stop was a look through the house that a long succession of Head Guys of the Observatory lived. One poor woman had 9 kids on top of that hill in a house where all the rooms run into each other. At least the constant breeze up there meant that drying the washing would be… well, a breeze!
I took a snap of this dress. It belonged to the daughter of one of those guys and it’s so wonderfully Georgette Heyer.
The bottom part of the building was devoted to watches, clocks and the quest to find longitude. (Or is it latitude? I can never remember which.)
This sort of stuff didn’t grab me much, but I found this clock very interesting.
We discovered there was an easier way done, so we took it, ambling back down and talking all the way to The Cutty Sark.
This was really interesting. The Curry Sark was a clipper that was primarily used for delivering tea. She used to swing by Australia to pick up bales of wool. Considering the distances she travelled, she was small. The men who signed up to sail on her were clearly crazy.
As soon as I stepped into the ship, I could smell tea. Deana didn’t, until I mentioned it, but then again, she’s English. About three quarters of the liquid components in her body would be tea.
I liked this one- how a lot of guys took the opportunity to get a free trip to Australia!
This was on the deck near the steering wheel. I felt sorry for him.
After seeing all that there was to see on the ship, we settled down on a shaded part of the deck and had a good chat. We lost track of time and were interrupted by a member of staff who wanted to clear the ship before locking up.
We weren’t ready to call it a day, so Deana suggested that we find a pub with a garden. I have to say, that gin and tonic with lime went down a treat. It was growing dark when we parted.
I admit that the Underground bamboozled me towards the end of the journey, but I fell in with a really nice Canadian couple who were also looking for Aldgate East. We all made it home.
I’m so lucky. What a way to see out my 50’s! Thanks Deana.
I woke up bright and early and scampered downstairs for the first hotel breakfast of the holiday. Scrambled eggs, bacon, yoghurt, half, a bagel with jam, washed down with a black coffee.
Do I ever make cooked breakfasts at home? Never! But on holidays, they’re irresistible.
I’d prebooked my tickets for today a couple of weeks in advance, which I was thankful for when I heard people being turned away from the palace tour because they were all booked out.
The plan for today was as follows:
Get to the Victoria monument outside Buckingham Palace by 10:30 to secure a spot right in the middle. Stand at the front at all costs.
After the changing of the guard finishes, go to Green Park and eat.
At 12:45, the first tour starts.
At 2, the second tour starts. Set an alarm on the phone.
At 3:15, the final tour starts. Again – alarm.
It was an itinerary worthy of the master of itineraries himself, which is of course my friend Scott.
It’s a short walk from Victoria station to the palace, which I discovered on the way back. On this walk, Citymapper inexplicably led me down all sorts of streets, so in the end I followed the crowds and all was good.
I walked across the square to the Victoria monument, walked through the barricade gate and parked myself directly next to it at the front. Fortunate Frogdancer struck again, as they closed that gate about a minute after I passed through. Phew!!!
a few minutes later, a policeman was walking past and I asked him if I was in a good spot to see things. He smiled and said, “I’d say you’re in a very good spot, madam!”
It was a long wait in the sun. I was standing next to a very tall man from Massachusetts, and I discreetly used him for shade.
Then we saw these guys sneaking out from the back. The police started to urgently request that people stay off the road… we all knew that it was about to happen.
Then from far away, we heard music. Rousing marching music, heavy on the drum beats. Then, to my left, soldiers marching! Bright red coats! Straight into the left hand side gates and out of sight.
Well damn…
But I had faith in what the policeman said. After all, he called me “madam.” I’ve never been called that before in my life. It sounds so proper and… well…posh.
The band that led the soldiers in then gave a concert. They were behind the fence of the Palace, but we could see them. A couple of the songs they played were ‘Eleanor Rigby’ and ‘ Sweet Child of Mine.’ They were really good.
Then this happened:
And then this:
Yes, I know the horses are very close, but they were that close.
After the fun of the changing of the guard was done, I walked to Green Park to have lunch. Lunch actually consisted of two crushed snack bars that I’d brought from Australia and really needed to either eat or throw out.
Green Park is right beside Buckingham Palace. I sat on the grass under a tree, licking the crumbled mess from the packets of what remained of a couple of Carmen’s cranberry and oat bars after they’d been halfway around the world in a bag where a lot was crammed into.
It wasn’t the greatest lunch. In fact, it was pretty awful. But it was MY lunch, and here I was sitting in Green Park watching a couple of ponies walk around. This never happens at home. I was the happiest woman in the world.
The first tour- Georgian fashion.
I spent my teenage years reading the novels of Georgette Heyer. She wrote across a few different genres but she’s mostly known for her Regency romances. She’s a FAR better writer than the Bridgerton woman (ugh), and so I’ve always had a fondness for the Georgian era. This exhibition was ticking all the boxes.
Princess Sophia was like me – born as blind as a bat.
Unlike me, she didn’t have access to laser eye surgery, so she wore these very attractive glasses. She would have been described in Georgette Heyer novels as “ a good looking young woman, but with a squint.”
Queen Charlotte… yes, THE Queen Charlotte from the Netflix series!
This is from the description card:
Exceptionally time-consuming to make, fine lace lappets could be one of the most expensive elements of an outfit. The bobbin lace technique required the skilful management of multiple bobbins (sometimes up to 800 at a time) of bone or wood wrapped with linen thread. One full-time lacemaker working from 5am to 8pm might produce approximately half a metre per year. Sets of lace made by the same hand were most highly prized due to their uniformity. Lappets had passed out of fashion by the middle of the eighteenth century, but remained an obligatory component of court dress for many decades after.
You could fit a wide screen tv under that dress!
Here’s what Bonnie Prince Charlie looked like. It’s sad, seeing some of these portraits and knowing how their lives ended up. Speaking of which…
Marie Antoinette.
Then it was time for my tour of the Royal Mews.
I arrived just in time for the guided tour. I much prefer these to the Audio tours as you hear all of the stuff plus a little goss as well.
Apparently the word “mews” is originally associated with falcons. The Mews was where they were taken when they were moulting, or “mewling.” Overall er time, the royal horses were moved across to join them and ever since, the word “mews” has been associated with stabling horses.
We only saw 2 horses – the rest are out in the country having a break from work – but we were taken to see the carriages. I didn’t know that all of the royal vehicles are the same colour; even the helicopters. It’s a practical, serviceable colour. Not what I’d have chosen but then, I’m not qualified to choose.
The highlight was of course seeing the huge golden coach. It was massive! And when I say GOLD, I mean GOLD. Real gold.
It weighs 4 tons and it takes 8 horses to drive it.
Here’s a picture of the brakes.
It’s too big to get out of the doors, so when it’s needed for a coronation they dismantle one of the walls to manoeuvre it out.
When the queen was asked about her ride in it, she said that she felt seasick because it rocked all over the place like a ship in a rough sea.
The final tour was of the palace staterooms. No photos were allowed, and also no climbing, apparently.
This tour was full of art, impressive rooms and many pictures of Charles and Camilla. I saw her coronation dress. I glanced down at the hem, then looked again. Was… was that a dog’s head stitched in gold? Turns out she had her two dogs, plus the names of her children and grandchildren embroidered on the gown.
After the tour, I thought It’d try my luck again with the DevonshireTea thing. Ahhh, that’s the stuff! I knew my monarch wouldn’t let me down!
After a quick swing by the gift shop, where I bought a tin of shortbread which is too heavy to bring home (but not if the tin is empty) I began the long walk back to the city outside through the park at the back.
I was forging ahead, when I thought, ‘ What’s the hurry? When are you ever going to be here again?’ So at the next empty bench, I sat and gazed at the view in front of me.
it was a green lawn, ringed by trees. I sat, thinking over the day I’d had, when suddenly I saw a movement.
it was a squirrel! My first this trip. I watched, entranced, as it raced up a tree, so quickly, zigzagging it’s way to the top.
Then another! And another!
As oblivious weary tourists trudged their way toward the gate, I watched. The place was alive with them.
Long time readers would know that I’ve always wanted to go to England. I’ve always loved the history of the place and read everything I could about it. I planned my trip to the UK and Europe when I was 15, but due to being all-too-practical in my younger years … “!’ll finish my teaching degree and THEN I’ll go!” … and then life, babies and single parenthood… I eventually ended up going when I was 51. Talk about delayed gratification!
I had the trip of a lifetime. 9 weeks travelling around the UK and Europe, seeing all the main things I always wanted to see and denying myself NOTHING. I’ve never tatted up the cost of that trip. But however much it cost, it was worth every penny.
I never dreamed that it’d be 8 long years until I set foot here again, but I’m back:. It’s going to be a different sort of trip this time. Last time I was a very unseasoned traveller and my dear friend Scott planned every day for me. I wasn’t really aware of it at the time, but he was gradually educating me in how to travel; beginning by mansplaining everything ( thank god!) and sticking by my side, then gradually stepping back and letting me learn to navigate by myself around Pais for a day, then sending me off to Bath for 3 days on my own.
This time, after going to North Korea with friends and then Antarctica on my own, (where I met fantastic new friends), I planned the itinerary myself, with days by myself, a tour around Ireland for two weeks, all interspersed with catching up with people I’ve met on my travels. It’s going to be so much fun!
I jumped off the plane bright and early and 6 AM and after buying a sim at the airport, I took the tube to Kings Cross station. Honestly, this whole place is a big Monopoly game. My plan was to stow my carry-on suitcase for the day so that I could visit some museums, then pick it up and take a train to my hotel.
The man at the baggage check was very helpful. “Your day is going to be challenging,” he said. “Many tube lines are closed.”
He got out his phone and I told him whereI wanted to go. Fortunate Frogdancer picked places that were accessible by the Piccadilly line , which was open. Sadly, my hotel was not. I left that problem for Future Frogdancer to work out and I went on my way.
First stop was The Wallace Collection. Scott and I visited it back in 2015, when I was enraptured by seeing The Laughing Cavalier. I have a postcard of him on my fridge to this day.
Look at the lace on his cuffs! You’d swear it was a photo.
And look at his collar. Incredible. Legend has it that this is an engagement painting.
Another reason why I wanted to come back here was that they were hosting an exhibition of dogs. Naturally, this is right up my alley.
Here is my Thrill of the Day. ‘The Cavalier’s Pets’ by Landseer. I have had a print of this hanging in my house since before I was married. The boys have never known life without it being there. And now, casually hanging in a gallery- here it is.
I was so excited! It was huge! I stood there and beamed at it like I was meeting an old friend. It was a wonderful surprise.
Da Vinci, anyone? As in Leonardo. Are you kidding me?
I was excited to see this one because the tricolour Cavalier on the left is Dash- Queen Victoria’s beloved pet when she was young. After her coronation, she went home, took off all her regalia and gave Dash his bath.
Here’s a sketch she drew of her Daschund , Waldmann. She clearly had good taste in her dog breeds.
Read the panel next to the portrait. It’s an interesting story.
I took a photo of this pup, not from any artistic merit but because I was going to the Sir John Shane’s museum next, and here is a picture of the dog that he loved.
Then I wandered through the rest of the collection.
It’s amazing how really old and famous artists pop up as if out of nowhere. How about a Rembrandt?
A bust of Napoleon.
A young Josephine.
I wandered around for nearly 2 hours, then boldly headed off towards my next museum – The Sir John Soanes museum.
Where I found the same dog. But the dog isn’t the point of this museum.
I didn’t know anything much about Sir John Soanes, except that he was an architect and an avid collector of things. But everyone I spoke to said that it was a must see.
This house was incredible. It was designed purely to display his collection in the best light. And when I say light, I mean that he had hundreds of mirrors put in to bounce the light from the extra windows he’d built. I was there on a very bright day, but I could imagine that even on a dark, winery day, this house would be well lit.
At the end of his life he arranged with politician friends to have a law made to protect his collection by donating it to the nation. The reason he did this was a bit sad. He’d lost his wife and elder son, and his younger son was a spendthrift and wastrel who hated his father and his collection. Rather than have his son break apart the collection and sell it all off, this was his solution.
Lucky for us!
Apollo. Plus hundreds of other antiquities. Some real, some plaster casts. But they were everywhere. I was glad I had put my carryon in a locker and my handbag in the cloakroom. Imagine if you knocked one over!
He also bought a 3,000 year old sarcophagus. As you do. The bottom part of the house is like a crypt, with everything being about death. The light from the roof is designed to highlight it.
It has hieroglyphics outside…
… and in. The guy who discovered it in Egypt brought it back to England and tried to sell it to the British museum for £3000. This was too much for the museum, particularly after they’d just bought the Elgin Marbles from the Parthenon in Athens, and so he didn’t have a buyer. After he died, his widow dropped the price to £2000 and Sir John Soanes swooped. He knew it was there, he designed the space for it and he was waiting for the price to drop.
The whole place looks like this. No wonder he was devastated when his wife died. No other woman would have put up with this.
Imagine the dusting!
The Wallace Collection has a rule that nothing in the house can ever be removed. Sir John Sloane went one further and decreed that nothing in his collection could ever be MOVED. So we are seeing everything exactly as he wanted it to be seen.
Anyway, go and see it. It’s got far more than I’ve shown you.
Once finished here, I decided to take a walk to the Foundling hospital. This is a sad place. The guy who started it was a sea captain who arrived back in London one day and was horrified to see all of the abandoned babies left in the streets. This was in 1722, which wasn’t exactly known for its effective birth control and social safety net.
it took him SEVENTEEN YEARS before the king and other influential figures gave him the funding. You see, he wasn’t a gentleman…
There were so many women who couldn’t support their children that they had to run a ballot system to select which babies they’d take, and which wouldn’t be. It was said that there was just as much crying from those that were rejected as from those that were accepted. The mothers used to give tokens with their babies, so that if ever they were in a position to reclaim their child, they’d have a way to show that they were getting the right child.
Here are a few of the tokens up close:
Being a single mother myself, I can clearly imagine the distress and heartache these women would have felt, but at least this way they had hope that their child would have a better life. These tokens were so sad…
Here’s the room where all of the baby ballots happened. If theses walls could talk…
And a cruel reminder of how unequal society was, this (frankly, overdecorated) room was where the wealthy would come to shmooze and feel good about themselves and their financial donations.
if you’re a fan of Handel- come and see this place. He was a huge supporter of this place and the top floor has one of the best museums about him. Sadly, lost on me…
Then I was walking towards the last place on my list – The Charles Dickens museum.
This was a house that he and his family only lived in for a few years, and I noticed that a lot of the furniture and Knick-knacks were brought from the last house he lived in, but that’s ok I guess. At least they were all genuine Dickens memorabilia.
Here’s his desk. Just like when Deana and I saw Jane Austen’s writing table back in 2015, I had to touch it.
I even had the same ring on my finger!
I love how they’ve recycled this keystone into a decoration of the garden in the cafe. My feet were tired and I wanted to try a scone, jam and cream with REAL clotted cream. It’s been 8 long years…
It was ok… but they were a bit light on with the cream. It was just like normal whipped cream. This wasn’t the thing I’ve remembered fondly from 8 years ago! I walked back to Kings Cross station to pick up my case, feeling vaguely cheated.
Sometimes on this whole ‘Financial Independence’ journey, things seem to drag along without anything changing for ages. Then something happens to drag you back into reality and makes you realise just how far you’ve come.
This happened to me yesterday.
Those of you who’ve read my ‘About’ page or have been reading my personal blog for a while would know that for many years the boys and I were, not to put it too bluntly, on the bare bones of our arses financially after I left their father. It took me almost two decades to fully financially recover from that (correct) decision. Raising four boys on your own isn’t a cheap exercise!
It has left a deep mark on how I approach most spending decisions in my life.
Things have gradually eased up over the last few years. I’ve discovered that as a spender, I’m what you’d call a ‘Valuist.’ I’ll cut expenses to the bone with things that aren’t exciting to me, but with things like travel – I’m happy to spend.
But this ‘valuist’ spending has all been scheduled and organised. Until yesterday.
Remember how I told you that my dear friend Scott organised an amazing lunch and walking tour in London to celebrate my birthday? I went to Flight Centre yesterday to arrange to push back my arrival in London from the 6th September (my actual birthday) to a few days earlier. It occurred to me that even ONE flight delay would cause me amazing stress and would probably mean that Scott would be sitting in the fabulous restaurant he booked, all on his own while sobbing uncontrollably with loneliness and disappointment, while I’d be sitting on a plane miles above him, circling the tarmac waiting to land. I would be BESIDE MYSELF, which is not a great way to celebrate a birthday.
I realised that it’d be best to fly into London a couple of days earlier to make darned sure that doesn’t happen. An added bonus would be that with some extra days under my belt, I’d be almost over the jet lag by then. Jet lag hit me hard last time – on my first night in London in 2015 Scott and I were in a cafe having an early dinner at 6 PM and I literally stopped myself from face-planting in my dinner. I woke up with my nose an inch away from disaster. I don’t want to do that during lunch.
Turns out that yes – I could change my booking. No problem.
It also turned out that it would cost $1,400 to do so.
I know. I know. I was horrified too.
I won’t lie… the possibility of backing out and hoping that ‘Fortunate Frogdancer’ would get me to London on time DID flicker across my mind. But luck is a fickle mistress. I’m convinced that the reason I’m so lucky is because I don’t rely on her – so she just pops up all the time to give me a smile and a wave. Murphy’s Law would probably ensure that I’d have 47 flight delays and I wouldn’t get to London until sometime in 2025.
So I smiled through gritted teeth and gave the guy my credit card.
“There’ll be a fee attached to using your card,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”
“At this stage, I don’t care,” I said. “I’m committed. Just lay it on me!”
The fee was $7. Ok, still ridiculous for just using a credit card. But I was still reeling from the flight cost, so it was just an incidental. No biggie.
The thing is – it wasn’t so long ago that there is NO WAY I would have; or could have, made such a luxury purchase. It’s a huge unexpected expense, especially when you add in 3 nights of extra accommodation in London before I’m set to go to Corinna’s place, which means that it’ll be around the 2K mark – not counting food and entertainment costs on top of that.
This is pretty much a sentimental decision.
For most of my adult life, this would have been a definite no-go.
But now? Sure, I wasn’t happy about spending such a large amount to gain three extra days. But could I afford it?
Well… yes.
Did I want to do it?
Yes.
So I did it.
When I wake up in London on my birthday, I’ll be leaving first thing in the morning to get to Corinna’s place before she leaves for work and I’ll collect her key and drop off my carry-on case. Then I’ll probably wander around until Scott’s train arrives and we’ll saunter off to lunch together. It’ll be chilled, relaxed, and not filled with tension and anxiety.
I know I’ll be glad when my alarm goes off on that Wednesday morning and I have the whole day stretching before me — the start of a whole new decade going around the sun for me. Airport queues and possible flight delays on the way over will all be a thing of the past. I’ll be dewy-eyed and jet lag free. It’ll be fantastic.
Sometimes you don’t fully realise that you’ve reached a new stage in your financial independence story until something like this happens.
I don’t have to work to earn the money for these luxuries that I’ve been paying for. It’s ok for me to get something that I really want. I can afford it. This is a totally new mind space for me to be in.
So once I got home, I totally lost my mind and took Ryan27 to Ikea. I bought $800 worth of storage shelves and drawers for the sewing room. Ryan27 bought a big new gaming desk, which is something that he didn’t intend to buy until he saw it. They’re all being delivered today. (I hope he’s good with an Allen key…)
Now, don’t get the wrong idea. I don’t have the sort of wealth that can sustain this level of spending every day! But I’ve reached the stage where I can buy things that I need and/or are important to me without stressing over every dollar.
It’s quite incredible to contemplate. Past Frogdancer, leaving her marriage with $60 cash and 4 boys under 5, would never have believed that in 26 years we’d be in this position.
It’s a humbling thing to experience.
Dad joke of the day:
I’ve trained my dog to go and fetch me a bottle of wine.
The crew arranged all sorts of mini-lectures to help fill the next two days. An astonishing number of them are birders, so we heard all about what that entails. As you can see, sometimes they went into a little too much detail, as this action-shot of Liga shows.
We also had a lecture about the environmental impact of our trip, which was surprisingly interesting, along with the technology the Hondius has to help mitigate any damage we might cause.
Now that we were firmly in the Drake Passage, whale sightings were getting more common. Up until now, the only whale sightings I’d seen were of blows, fins and flukes from miles away, which make for some very unimpressive photos.
Imagine how fantastic it was when the announcement went out:
“ A pod of at least twenty humpback whales are around the ship, primarily on the starboard side. We’re slowing the ship down to make the most of this opportunity.“
Talk about being galvanised into activity!
I had my phone with me, but no coat, so I ran to get a spot at the lounge windows.
The whales were so close. They were feeding, so they were surfacing and diving, but only in shallow dives so they were repeatedly coming up to the surface.
I had my phone positioned just below my eyes and I was pressing the photo button every time I saw something… which meant that I had a LOT of photos to go through after this was over. It was the only way I could think of getting a balance between actually experiencing it all with my eyes as well as trying to get a record of it.
The whales stayed near us for around 20 minutes, I guess, which was ample time to get that “whale watching “ box well and truly ticked off.
Afterwards, Eneko came by as we were all talking and he showed me some videos that he took of the whales from the deck outside. They were fantastic- so much better than my crappy photos.
We spent the rest of the day in the lounge, where I may or may not have taken a nap. People were flicking through their photos to choose which ones they were going to submit for the photo competition, sometimes asking for opinions from others.
It was a funny day. I think we were all coming down from the absolute high which was Antarctica.
Eneko was persuaded by Corrina and Liga to play a game of poker with them, to teach them how to play better. Poor guy, he was really reluctant to do it, because he’s used to playing 10 games at a time behind his computer screen. I got the distinct impression that face-to-face poker games don’t have much appeal for him.
They were sitting near me and I tuned out as I was reading a novel, but I surfaced at one point to hear him, looking at Corrina’s cards, saying, “No, no, you shouldn’t play this hand of cards,” and Corrina, totally bewildered, saying, “But why not??”
He was trying to explain and I could see his brain trying desperately to translate from Spanish to English something that, to him seemed so obvious, but to the girls was a mystery. It must have been a long night for poor Eneko!
All of us had bought seasickness patches the night before, but I think we could probably have done without them. The Drake Lake was living up to its name as we glided on through.
Only one full day to go…
DRAKE LAKE DAY 2:
This is where Frogdancer Jones gets a prize in the photo competition that she didn’t even enter. Even I’m astonished at the amount of good luck that this trip has let me experience.
The Drake Passage was even calmer today than it was yesterday, which seemed a little unbelievable, but there it was. The morning was spent packing our bags, giving back our muck boots and generally coming back down to earth.
Corrina set up a WhatsApp group so we could share photos. We’ve been talking on it ever since. 🙂
After lunch we were all called to the lounge and Ross went through the photo competition entries. There were 126 spread out over the 3 categories and everyone had one vote in each category.
Earlier in the day, we made Michael, a guy we’d met on the cruise, submit a photo of polar bears he took in the Arctic a couple of years before, in the “Fun” section. It got a huge laugh, but sadly, didn’t make the final cut.
At around 5PM we all got a hell of a surprise. There, ahead of the ship, were lights. We were already approaching Ushuaia… 12 hours ahead of schedule. That shows just how flat the Drake Passage was during our two days.
Over our last dinner, the boys and I sat near SamFrank. Someone asked him what he did for a living, (he was back to being a colonel again) and then I asked him what he did for fun when he wasn’t working.
“Oh, I teach ballroom dancing. I do a lot of dancing. I also play the guitar – I play a lot of guitar so that I can train my fingers to have lots of sex with my wife.”
I glanced across at Baptiste to see if he was hearing this. His eyes danced back at me. We were both hanging off every word.
“I’m also learning to play the harmonica. I also like to throw dinner parties. Or just any kind of dinner party… I like it when people dress up. I think people behave differently when they are elegantly dressed. Before I met my wife, I always organised every detail. It used to take me the whole day to set the table, decide who was sitting next to who, and to cook the food. Once, a man turned up in a Hawaiian shirt and shorts. I made him go home and change.”
After the conversation moved on, I asked the guys to give me a playlist of the band that they both like – a German band called Rammstein. Morgan’s seen them play 47 times. It’s great music to listen to if you want to concentrate on something that you’re doing, because I can’t understand a word of the lyrics. I’m listening to them now as I type – a lovely song called ‘Pussy.’ It’s nice to see that German headbangers are fond of cats.
After dinner we all gathered in the lounge for the photo competition. Morgan had 2 shots in the final and Eneko had one. Not bad representation for our little group!
After the prizes were awarded, Emma, the ship’s doctor, beckoned me over.
“I accidentally submitted a photo in the Wildlife folder instead of the guides’ folder and it won the competition. I don’t feel right about accepting the prize, so I thought you should have it.”
She handed me a penguin soft toy. Maybe I was being rewarded for my bravery during the blood nose episode on Petermann Island?
Liga bought a bottle of Prosecco and shared it with us as we all toasted our friendship. I really hope we run into each other again.
There was a bit more talk about Eneko’s nicknames for us. He let slip a day or two ago that his nickname for Liga was ‘The Black Panther,’ which really suits her. He said that he had a nickname for both Corinna and me, but he was too scared to tell us. Corinna, who was absolutely dying to know what hers could be, finally got a promise from him that he’d tell her on the last day. That would be tomorrow…
I set off to bed at midnight, but a couple of hours after that, some of the crew came up to the lounge and took some people out into Ushuaia to the Irish pub. Corinna didn’t get back until 4 AM. That 7:30 AM wake-up call for breakfast must’ve been hard…
I took this photo on the last night because I couldn’t believe that Ming was STILL wearing her polar layers 24/7, even when we were back in port. When was she going to shed the yellow gortex?
A DAY IN USHUAIA DURING WORLD CUP SEMI FINALS:
The mood was subdued at breakfast. No one wanted to leave.
Baptiste said at breakfast, looking sadly out of the window, “I just want to wreck the boat. Demolish it. If I can’t go back, then no one else should!” Trust me, it sounds better when it’s said in a mournful French accent.
As soon as we were off the ship and on the dock, the sky turned grey and the wind picked up. It was a bit creepy, as if our good luck with the weather only worked if we were on the ship.
Corrina asked Eneko for her nickname.
“No, not yet,” he said, gesturing back towards the sea. “There’s nowhere for me to run away here.”
“Oh my God, what IS it?” she shrieked. “It can’t be that bad, surely?”
Little did she know, but Eneko told the boys and me the nickname over breakfast. It was the ‘British Bear’, like Winnie the Pooh. I was ‘ The Australian Penguin.’ Now that I come to think about it, Eneko was always there when I’d fall down, get up and cheerfully waddle off again, so fair enough.
When we wheeled our luggage to the street, Eneko finally told Corrina her name. Unfortunately, he forgot to mention Winnie the Pooh and instead said it was like a grizzly bear. She was half laughing, half confused. I don’t blame her!
Today was the day when I realised truly how beautiful these people are. Some of them were due to leave Ushuaia that day, while some were like me and were staying an extra night. They all decided to walk with me back to my hotel.
Corrina took my carry-on bag and Morgan took my suitcase. We trundled through the streets of Ushuaia, passing a very hungover Garret and Timo, who were part of the late-night Irish pub visit with Corinna. I was chatting to Garret outside a shop and I mentioned that I could still feel the ground moving under my feet, as if I was still on the ship. “Really?’ he said. “I thought it was just my hangover.
Everyone dropped their bags at my hotel. Then we split up. Morgan and Baptiste decided to go to the nearby national park and do a 10 km hike. Liga wanted to climb a mountain track, while Eniko wanted to go to his B and B.
Corrina and I stayed in the hotel foyer, using the wifi to contact friends and family.
Scott from the UK let me know that after I’d left Australia, a woman was killed in a freak accident when crossing the Drake Passage. It wasn’t the Drake Lake, clearly. A freak wave hit the side of the ship and broke a window.
“I quickly googled the name of the ship but I knew it wouldn’t be you. You’re Fortunate Frogdancer!”
When the boys were about to return, we went to a restaurant and grabbed lunch. The four of us ordered, then sat on the wifi. On a whim, I decided to check my emails.
This was my first indication that the luck of Fortunate Frogdancer was starting to sputter and conk out.
There were2 emails from my travel agent. The first one said that I was leaving Ushuaia THAT DAY. What?!?
I fished out my printed itinerary. I leave tomorrow, according to this. So which one was correct? We tried calling the 24-hour help number ( not helpful… it was all recorded messages) and we tried checking in. Nothing was definite.
Then Morgan remembered that there was a shop on the waterfront for Argentinian Airlines and offered to take me there to sort it out. We said goodbye to Corrina and after the boys collected their bags, we walked to the shop.
I was feeling bad. This was their last couple of hours here, where they could be doing anywho there than chasing up my flight. We took our place in the queue and waited. After a while, I said to them, “Look, why don’t you go and find something more fun to do? I can see it through from here.”
Morgan looked seriously at me.
“ You are not my responsibility as tour leader anymore. That finished at the docks. This is a matter of friendship. “ Baptiste nodded.
Omg. Could they be any more wonderful? Morgan and Baptiste are just the best people in the world.
A couple of minutes later everything was sorted out. My printed itinerary was correct, and as a bonus, the nice man behind the counter also allocated me aisle seats for my first two flights.
After a coffee in a café, it was time for them to leave for the airport. They headed for the taxi rank and I headed back to my hotel.
That afternoon, Argentina was due to play in the World Cup semifinal against Croatia. Garret, Timo and a few other people decided that we should all meet at The Hard Rock Cafe to watch the game. I’d counted my Argentinian pesos and discovered I was running really low so I decided I wasn’t going to go. I lay down on the bed with a book…
… and woke to a message on WhatsApp asking where I was. I replied that I was running out of cash. No World Cup shenanigans for me!
Timo replied, “We have enough pesos between us to buy you a drink. Get yourself down here!”
As I walked out of my room, I saw the first Argentinian goal on the tv in the dining room. When I was halfway to the Hard Rock Café, I heard screaming from all over the place, so I ducked into a café to watch the replay of the second goal.
Turns out that they go mental whenever a goal is scored. It was so much fun.
By the time I reached the group, I was really hoping that they’d kick a third. I wanted to see the crowd’s reaction.
Afterwards, we stayed back for another drink and just as that finished, I turned and looked out the window. The street was jam-packed full of people. I raced to the door.
All the way up the main street of Ushuaia, people were walking, cheering and singing. It was wall to wall. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a happier crowd.
As you can see, the whole town was out. You can hear me at some stage saying to someone, “It’s bloody beautiful!”
After the people came the cars. I think everyone who lives in Ushuaia was there, celebrating that their team was now in the final. I said goodbye to everyone and made my way back home.
As I ate the leftover of the massive half-a-tart that I ordered for lunch ( frugality for the win) I could still hear the celebrations. They went on for hours. Clearly, this is a country that loves soccer. There was lots of noise for a while, but it was happy noise. It made me smile.
(Only one more post to go. The trip isn’t over just yet…)
Straight after breakfast this morning, we were called into the lounge for a briefing. There were two women from Port Lockroy.
This port used to be a whaling station back in the day and there are still chains near the entry, along with whale bones left lying in the water.
The port is open for 6 months and every year over 4,000 people apply for the 4 available positions. This year 4 women are there, performing a mix of scientific, postal and public relations jobs.
Every day they are visited by 2 cruise ships, so their only quiet times are early in the mornings and after dinner, where they sit and stamp that day’s amount of the 70,000 postcards that they receive over the course of the season.
I only sent two. Didn’t want to overwork them. I would’ve sent one to James from Ireland, seeing as we sent each other postcards from Pyongyang, but I didn’t have his address.
This time, instead of being split into two groups, we passengers were split into three. Over the course of the morning, we’d have a landing neat gentoo penguins, a zodiac cruise around the bay for around 45 minutes, and a trip to the actual base at Port Lockroy. Which order anyone got to do all of this was completely luck of the draw.
Naturally, this worked in my favour. Again.
In the early parts of the morning, the guides were very conscious of time. I jumped on a zodiac which happened to be doing the landing on Jougla Island first. When we made our way up the dug out snow staircase, Rose grabbed me, made me sit on a barrel and she put my snowshoes on. They were hustling people along – no mucking around!
I didn’t realise it at the time, but they had to ensure that all of us had seen Port Lockroy and were all back on the ship before the next cruise arrived.
You can see in the photo how the landing teams put everything on a tarp, which is sterilised after we get back on board. They are really very worried about avian flu coming down here from the northern hemisphere. It could decimate the bird populations here.
Then we were off, trudging our way along the path laid out by the red poles the guides had planted earlier.
It was a cracking morning. The sun was so bright that I had to keep reminding myself to wear my sunglasses. I didn’t want to experience snow blindness like Baptiste did a couple of days ago.
It wasn’t a particularly long walk, just across a flat patch and then up a small hill where there were a couple of penguin colonies, along with a wonderful view of the bay. I took it slowly though, conscious that this was my last day.
The Gentoos were making the “hee-haw” sound that had already become so familiar. The air was cool and the sky was brilliantly blue. The penguins, the sound of snowshoes on snow and the murmuring of people talking were the only sounds I could hear.
I stayed up here for what seemed like ages. It was unutterably beautiful. The penguins were busily doing their own thing, with the occasional bird swooping around.
At one point, down the hill near a penguin colony, a stupid group of Vietnamese people strayed off the path, just to get a photo opportunity holding up their flag.The guides were quickly onto it.
“It’s not the flag I object to,” said one of the guides when I mentioned it later. “It’s the crevasses that are in the area.”
With conditions so perfect, I guess it’s hard for some people to keep in mind that we’re not in a tame place. But seriously, if you want to come to one of the most untouched and isolated places on Earth, do your research! Stepping into a crevasse could kill you.
After a while, I snowshoed my way back down the hill and got into a zodiac. Turned out, this one was on a cruise. Our last one…
We were lucky enough to see two seals out sunning themselves. Zoom in on the second photo – the seal’s on the rocks.
I was sitting in the front of the zodiac again, and I was so glad the sea was calm. I could have my iPhone out all the time without being concerned about waves splashing.
We passed by colonies of Antarctic/Blue-Eyed Shags building their nests from seaweed. Every year they come back to the same place and build on top of the nest they had before. Right in the middle, you can see one nest getting precariously tall.
None of us wanted the cruise to end. We went further afar, looking at the amazingly sculpted icebergs and gazing at the glaciers spilling into the bay.
Eventually the call came for our group to go to the steps carved into the snow to reach the base at Port Lockroy.
I didn’t know it then, but this was to be extra special, especially for all of us who were on the last zodiacs to arrive.
Port Lockroy is home to thriving colonies of Gentoo penguins, who make robust use of the buildings on the base. This means that when the people who live on the base each October arrive, the penguins are already well established.
They live under the old post office, all around the storage shed and there’s even a colony that has parked itself directly under the flag pole.
This means that for the first time on this trip, the 5 metre rule couldn’t be adhered to. I took this video as I was queuing up to go into the post office. I couldn’t believe how close the penguins were coming to us.
When we first arrived, I was charmed to see the penguins nesting under the old building, but I was more focused on getting inside and looking around.
The museum is set up as if it was the 1950s.
It was very utilitarian.
There was a stamp that we could get for our passports with ‘ Port Lockroy’ on it. I’d already got the ‘Ushuaia’ and ‘Antarctica’ stamps from the tourist office in Ushuaia, which may or may not make some countries’ immigration people dislike me, so I thought I may as well get the whole set while I was at it.
I had a quick look at the museum, but it was outside where the real magic lay.
Remember how I said that the guides were really conscious of time with this landing?
Now that we were on the last round, that urgency melted away. We were there for well over an hour and a half.
Ninety minutes in a place where the penguins were literally all around us. What a way to finish the landings!
And, as I said, they were so close.
It was crazy. I’d be standing, looking at penguins coming back to the base along their penguin highways, when I’d hear a quiet little “shuffle, shuffle “ noise coming up behind me.
I’d turn, and there would be a penguin literally 1 foot behind me, making his way back to the bay.
It was incredible.
They were totally focused on building their nests, with many birds waddling along clutching a pebble with their beaks.
They were all around us, walking, ( and tripping and falling), while we were marvelling at our incredible luck to be here at this place and time. What an absolutely precious hour and a half that was.
As the guides with the other groups dropped their zodiac groups back on the ship, they’d come across to the base.
Every time someone asked if it was time to go back to the zodiacs, they’d say, “There’s no rush…”
Liga and I looked at each other. We didn’t need to be told twice!
I took more videos here than I did on the rest of the trip combined. By now, the sound of the Gentoos was utterly familiar, as well as their waddling gait and optimism in the face of everything.
But this was the last time I’ll be here with them. I didn’t want to miss a thing.
Just before we finally left, a bird stole an egg. I was at the wrong angle to take a shot of the actual theft, but as we were walking back to the zodiacs I snapped THIS SHOT.
The sheathbills sneak in, peck a hole in the egg and come back later to eat the insides. If you zoom in you can see the hole in the egg. It’s sad. The penguins only lay two eggs.
But of course, the skuas and sheathbills also have families to raise. Plus the egg would taste a lot better than the sheathbills’ normal food – penguin poo.
As we were enjoying lunch that was definitely tastier than penguin poo or penguin eggs, the ship began to move out of the bay. We were on our way home. Two days at sea, crossing the Drake Passage, and then we’d be back at Ushuaia.
At the briefing that night before dinner, Pippa asked if we wanted to get the weather forecast for the Drake. Would it be a shake or a lake?
She put up a picture of the weather chart.
“Of course, seeing as it’s you guys, the weather forecast for our entire crossing is blue,” she said, and started to laugh as we all cheered.
She pointed to the lower left-hand corner of the chart.
“You can see here that there’s a purple monster blizzard heading this way, but this will affect the group that’s coming after you. Your group has been truly blessed with unprecedented good weather.”
She went on to say, “ The one landing we had where it was grey and snowing, I had a few of you asking if it was safe to go out.” She laughed. “ It was safe. That’s considered great weather for landings in Antarctica.
“ The last group we had was a 21-day cruise including the Falkland and South Georgia Islands. The weather was so bad that they only had ONE landing for the entire trip. You guys have been incredibly lucky.”
Wow. I already knew from Morgan that the trip I was originally meant to go on last year had pretty bad weather, but this was on another plane of terrible. I sat there thanking all of the gods that my tour company picked this out of all possible weeks to go.
Ross, the guide from Cornwall, then announced the photo competition. There were 3 categories: Landscape, Wildlife and Fun. People had a few hours to enter, then the whole ship would vote, with the 3 favourites from each category ending up in the finals to be announced on the last night of the cruise.
There was no way I was entering. I was actually pretty pleased with how well my iPhone 6 performed, but it’s no match for the latest iPhones and wildly expensive cameras and lenses that lots of people were using. I was definitely sitting this one out.
We stayed up late in the lounge, talking, reading and the card players doing their thing. SamFrank joined us as we were talking to an American guy who was in the military. He, (SamFrank), mentioned that he was a colonel in the special forces.
From memory, SamFrank is a captain, a colonel and a general in the FBI and Special Forces who is also a dance instructor, presumably in his spare time.
