Buckingham Palace & Harrods

It was about 10.30am when I left the house on my first adventure. I had my mobile in hand and was ready to rumble. I went down to the tube (trying hard to look bored so as to fit in as a Londoner... and thereby be less of a focus for naughty people wanting to steal my bag and wallet) and jumped on the Northernline... I then had to jump off (after about 30mins) onto the Victoria Northbound line (I'm beginning to remember which line goes where etc which is all rather impressive I think). I then jumped off at Victoria and was shocked by vertigo... the escalator was so quick and so steeped that it made me quite dizzy. You must also keep to the right when you are going up the escalator because people have a tendency to want to run past you because they are so busy and important!!! hehehe

Finally coming back out into the sunshine I saw a sign saying "to Buckingham Palace" and I knew that I was on the right path. My first impressions was the bussiness... the amazing buildings - so HUGE and just plain beautiful... there were people everywhere, never known so many people, and most of them reading maps (I had my map in a secret place and only took it out when I was around a corner just to ensure that I wasn’t spotted as a tourist and a good prospect for passing pick pockets.

The Palace itself is enormous and amazingly restored. I imagine that it looks as it did hundreds of years before and you cant help but think of all of the things that have happened here, Kings and Queens, marriages and births, people running at the gate when they were starving during the middle ages. The gates, I thought, were even more impressive than the building with gold covered lions dawning the structure. It is about four times the height of me and perfectly built. The guards were standing at arms, looking focused (or bored…). I turned around to take in the fountain behind me, this had sculptures of King Henry, King George, Queen Victoria etc along with angels, horses and I believe a Lion somewhere abouts. Again, this is crystal clean, the waters are clear and still. But along the large cobbled street horses came trotting along…. There must have been 20 of them, with soldiers ridding upon them. All of the tourists (including me) had their cameras and films out, talking to one another over the clip clop of the hooves. I’m not sure what it was all about but it felt like they had come out just for me.

I decided the time had come for me to find a bit of respite… get away from the crowds, more and more people were arriving by bus, on foot and on bike and it was all a bit mad. I headed across the road where I could see green… and what an amazing green it was.

I was in St James Park and it was magnificent, what I’d imagined London to be. London is apparently the greenest of the European cities because of all of the huge parks they have there and this was just one of the smallest. The size of it is about five football ovals and my heavens… it is picturesque, it is what you imagine London should be, and made me immediately think of films about the 70’s… maple leaves littering the ground, squirrels dancing across the grass, people strolling through all rugged up and lovers sitting on benches sharing a picnic. You immediately feel at peace and although it is just across the road from the Buckingham Palace and tourists from across the world, as soon as you step into this park it is as if you have stepped into another world. I think that is what I will love most about this city, the diversity of it, the contradictions and acceptance of past and future. The grounds are stunning; I wish I had more words to describe it. I loved being there and will be there again soon.

I walked through St James Park without much intent other than continue on my journey. I had a map in my pocket and knew that if I got lost I would soon be able to find myself again, so I didn’t worry about following my original plan or sticking to the main streets. The secret, they say, of travelling, is to take yourself away from the main roads, walk in the opposite direction to the tourists and suddenly you’ll be in a secret place that really has the essence of the city you are in.

Strangely enough as I walked along I came across the things I wanted to see. To my right the “hard rock café” presented itself, I continued walking down the street and to my left a huge store appeared… An old building that had been retained so perfectly without a scratch on the façade. It was Halloween and so the windows were dawned with witches, ghosts and webs. The store I was looking at was the renowned (and exceptionally expensive) Harvey Nicholls. Harvey Nicholls is apparently for the upper echelon of society, where the people that have far too much money go to make themselves feel as if there is purpose in their bank account. I walked in, feeling as if I was being stared at… thinking “they KNOW I am a cheapie”. The assistants were all wearing sophisticated black and white and standing to attention. Their faces were grim and serious and they had no intention of approaching and potentially helping me with my purchase… however, the jewellery, the bags, even the stationery… it was pristine, beautiful, everything completely perfect and perfectly presented… and priced to reflect this! I made my way through the store and when leaving the premises took a very very long breath and thought “thank god I’m not rich”… heaven help me if I end up liking places like this. Pretentious. Well best of luck to them, why save a baby when you can buy a pin you will never use for 200 pound.

My stomach rumbled and I realised that I hadn’t had anything to drink or eat all day and it was getting on to 1pm… I found a small café on the street I was walking along, right across the road from Hyde Park (yet another beautiful expanse of land that also had in its proximity the Wellington Arch and another memorial dedicated to Flanders Fields). I popped myself at a table and bought a Panini and can of Fanta and took out my map to study the direction of my continuing adventure.

I spent about an hour in there, looking out at the Arch and the park and simply everything that seemed to spin toward me bombarding me with the magnitude of the experience. I was somewhere… somewhere I’d always dreamed of being… I ordered food! I paid in pound! I was acting like a real Londoner (or atleast I liked to think so). Its those small moments that make it worth while… everything was happening at whirlwind pace and even a few days later it seems like it didn’t really happen, as if I had watched a film about an Australian girl that had recently arrived in London.

As I write this to you I can hear fireworks going off, reigning out into the night sky. A taxi just beeped and constantly you hear the ambulance or police running around the streets. I am watching UK television and thinning about cooking UK sausages and UK mash while sipping on a UK wine and smoking UK cigarettes… It is a whole new world and it is the simple things that make you realise it. So far I have realised that travelling is not about seeing what you wanted to see, it’s about experiencing the small moments…

After I’d had my Panini and thanked the eastern European waitress that had served me I turned to the left, the park now on my right, and wandered toward… Harrods… People had told me about Harrods before, I knew it was supposed to be a world famous store, that it was a chain and that every tourist that has ever gone to London has gone to Harrods… I felt as though, when walking in, every tourist in London was in there…

A little man in a funny suit with a hard blue cap opened the door for me and smiled when he saw the look of shock and amazement cross my face… oh… my… goodness… this was not a store… it was Santa’s little enclave. It was made with people in mind. It was straight from the movies. I took a quick left and there infront of me was teddy bear heaven. All of the Harrods teddies, dressed in different attire from police men to Buckingham Guards, there were key rings and spoons and tits and bits for miles. The people serving were smiling and wandering around offering help. Everyone was bouncing and happy, children and adults and different languages moving through the space.

I took a map of the store, the store is so vast that you actually need a map. There are four floors and the floors themselves are the size of a house… an Australian house at that, potentially even larger. The building itself takes up an entire London block and there are Christmas trees out the front of the store… Harrods is more than a store; it is an experience in itself.

I went across to the food hall, and I was shocked to realise that even the food hall took my breath away. There were five or so small restaurants, one was Japanese, one Chinese, another Spanish and another French… in each the waitresses were dressed in cultural attire and people were sitting, eating, laughing and drinking. I continued through to find a lolly shop where the servers were all smiles and wearing the traditional white and red stripped uniform including a hat. The displays themselves were something to be marvelled at, pyramids of chocolate and toffee and sweets from across the globe. They had thought of everything, there was Halloween and Christmas decorations made from every type of sweet you could imagine and again, all of the people were wandering around happily, taking it all in.

Through another area were the cheeses of the world, doughnuts of the world, fish of the world, meat of the world… everything you could ever dream of eating and all presented in such a fashion that it was hard to walk through without wanting to buy everything.

I had eaten and so realised that the power of suggestion was far too great, I needed to get away from the doughnuts, however in my search for escape I had wandered into the Harrods tea house. This was a spacious room filled with little tables adorned with cakes, people drinking tea from porcelain tea cups, waiters wandering around in traditional server’s attire… I had to run! I needed to escape the desire to sit and eat and drink the afternoon through.

Finding the lift I ascended to the 1st floor without any idea where I was going and having not yet looked at the map I had taken from my initial entrance. The first floor is “by appointment only”, this is where “those” women who have “the” money come to have someone tell them what to wear and how to wear it and who to wear it with. The clothing was exorbitantly expensive and didn’t interest me an oval amount so I tottered back to the lift to explore the second floor…

Welcome to Christmas… the second floor is a Christmas Special in itself… White Christmas with a giant white Santa, white tree, glistening silver and blue streamers. When I entered my heart lifted… Dean Martin was playing and, I thought, welcoming me home. Looking off in another direction there was a red Christmas, with the traditional red and green ornaments. Everything everywhere was beautiful. The roof was strewn with holly and fir leaves, borbles hanging. There were dancing Santa’s and singing slays and the Harrods bear waiting to give you a gift or two. The sensation itself… I couldn’t steal the smile from my face, I was eternally happy… It was what I thought Christmas should always be… I count the days until the snow falls and all of my dreams about London are fulfilled. I continued my journey through the floor and low and behold another toy palace opened up for me… mechanical yapping dogs danced along the floor, men played with helicopter machines, bouncing them off the floor. There was something for everyone. I wandered over to a particular table where there was a mechanical spider and mechanical skirrel. I took a remote control and started making the spider wiz and pur and run from side to side. I was alone but didn’t care, I giggled and played and other people came to watch, anticipating their turn. My heart was lifted high.

My eyes were popping out of my head… from diamond encusted mobiles and watches, to white gold Santa’s… it had everything and more. The staff were lovely and welcoming, it was as if you had gone into someones home. It was magical. I never thought I would be impressed with a store, I don’t see the point in spending money unnecessarily and am not interested in our consumer driven society… but this… this is an experience.

I walked out into the open air and breathed a sigh to be away from the crowds. The smile was still on my face as I continued my walk with one destination in mind… the Victoria and Albert Museum. I had read about it and heard about it and in comparison to the WA Museum… well, it was supposed to be in a whole other league.

The thing I have discovered thus far about London though, is that its not about the destinations. Every street holds a secret, at every corner there is something else to make you take a deep sharp breath in.

There were little cafes along the walk to the Victoria and Albert Museum, across the road were stores that only the most fashionable and exceptionally well-off individuals would attend. It was still quite exciting to see their facades, the great red busses buzzing by, the cars and ‘only-in-London’ taxis, it all kept reminding me that I was well away from Australia… and well away from Perth in particular. After all these years of wanting, hoping and dreaming I had finally battled the flight and was here, in the crux of anglo-saxon civilisation…