British Isles: Ullapool and What Day is This?
Our day started slowly, thank goodness. We are still sailing from Belfast to Ullapool, and we don’t expect to land until 1:00. Later we figure it out – at this time of year, there can be huge morning fogs. Most of the time it starts burning off around late morning. You can’t see much through the thick fog.
Some people are sleeping in, some are doing laundry. We have breakfast with our friends, then we hit the spa. We are ready to kick back. We are having a lot of fun, enjoying all the activity, and the truth is also – we are aging. We need to rest. I need time to process and integrate all the new sights I am seeing and cultural differences I am experiencing.
We are excited about our tour today, The Scenic Assynt. We tendered in, and boarded our bus. It got off to a surprising start. We were all aboard and the bus started. Two minutes into the trip, the air conditioning went off and the bus became stuffy very quickly. Formerly civil Viking tourists became rude, and shouted that we needed AC, but I think the driver needed the extra power to attack the hill heading out of the port. The bus rumbled and shuddered, and the guide was doing her best to soothe the savage beasts but was also on her phone to headquarters trying to get a back up bus and there wasn’t any.
It got better. The AC came back on, and we stopped at a geological reserve.
Here is where I have to make a sad confession. This reserve was wonderful. It had special stations to demonstrate how very old rock had extruded and somehow become above the much younger rock.
When I uploaded my photos, of this trip into the Assynt, and the next trip, in the Orkneys, I somehow didn’t save them to the desktop, and carefully deleted them from my camera and card.
Fortunately AdventureMan took some photos, and I had some on my phone, but sadly, the trips were both wonderful and I can’t show you how greatly wonderful they were. I am so sorry.
We also stopped by the ruins of an old castle en route to the small fishing village of Lochinver, very beautiful, very small, and I took a walk in the opposite direction of the others, and it was so QUIET.
One thing you don’t get on a cruise ship is a lot of quiet. Viking ships are quieter than most, but you get 900 people together, there’s going to be some noise. For the first time ever, we have a loudly quarreling, quarrelsome couple on one side of us. Fortunately, it is sporadic, not all the time.
With the fog rolling in to this small fishing village of Lochinver, it was so silent. It wasn’t even muffled, it was silent. My ears were ringing with the silence! I loved it!
I rely on my photos to tell the story, and without them, I can’t remember all that I saw. What I do remember is the warmth with which we were greeted at Ullapool, in the Scottish Highlands, that they truly made us feel appreciated. I remember thinking I would love to come back to Ullapool, so small, so isolated, with so few tourists. There were families, and hikers and people from many nations, but not the thousands that come in on the ships. We were the only ship in port this day.
Much of the time is foggy in Ullapool, in August, and then there are times when the fog burns off. Then the fog comes back again, and then, just as the sun is setting, it might break through.
We have reservations this night at Manfredi’s, the ship’s Italian specialty restaurant, and are shown to a quiet table by the window in the back of the restaurant. We love it. Our waiters are kind and funny, and help us make great choices for dinner.
British Isles: Belfast and the Days Run Together
I am laughing as I look at these photos, because I remember every day as being sunny. I don’t remember the early morning clouds. It almost always cleared off by noon. I don’t remember any rain, either, but I can see here in Belfast we did get a little rain. I think it happens more often than I would like to think. I would be willing to swear my memory is correct, and – it is not always.
We had anticipated and studied Chester. Belfast caught us by surprise. It looked so drab in all our looks at YouTube videos and trip reports, but it has become a vibrant, future-oriented city and one I could see living in.
I apologize for the quality of these photos, taken as best I can from a bus with rain-drop smeared windows. Below is a square in homage to the author C.S. Lewis. Under that is a statue of his lion from the Narnia series.
Our guide is Sean, and he is full of jokes, but also full of history, some old history, but most of it about the “troubles” and how the peace is working out. As it turns out, peace is very difficult. People have trouble learning to trust one another after all the years of shooting at one another, but groups are finding ways to work together on projects, and rubbing shoulders with one another helps reduce fears and prejudices, and helps contain small problems from becoming big problems.
Belfast Castle below:
We start looking for the nine cats hidden in the gardens:
Sean tells us that most of the flags and nationalist art is created by the working class, who are still living with some resentment of the ruling, more liberal class in power. Most building flying Palestinian flags are those of the soldiers and those protesting the status quo.
The art of those in power is mostly about sacrifice, and history of service. This art increases feelings of positivity and acceptance of the status quo. All of this was imparted to us without any indication of which Sean’s position.
We had not anticipated liking Belfast as much as we did. I spite of the divisions, there is a vibrance in having the devisions out in the open, and a commitment to working out the differences. Belfast is now one of the safest cities in the world. We visited a large university, very impressive, and I found myself thinking how wonderful it might be for one of our grandchildren to attend a university where people openly debate the significant political positions. It lends life and energy to upper-level studies when new and challenging ideas can be confronted and evaluated.
We met up with our friends back on the ship and shared our impressions. Our backgrounds are similar in some ways, very different in others, so we always have lively and entertaining discussions when we meet up. They have a substantial collection of Starbucks cups, and strive for one from each city. I like cups, too, but sometimes I want something locally made. I always love seeing what they find.
And Belfast reminds us of why we travel. We see a country perpetually at war over religion, culture, customs, and willing to try to kill each other. Now, they are putting in the hard work of reconciliation, trying to find common ground. It isn’t easy. I like that all voices are allowed to express themselves, and that it is a situation where compromises are emerging. No one gets everything they want, peace is not taken for granted, and they persist through the discomfort. Maybe we can learn something.
Sun setting as we leave Belfast.
British Isles: Liverpool, Chester, Uhtred and The Beatles
A bright sunny day docking in Liverpool, and we are facing the dock, which is fun for being able to watch people. We have a quick breakfast and depart with our group to find our bus in the parking lot. On our way to the bus we have an obstacle; a 45 degree incline to walk up, no steps, just a very long incline. We did fine, but I imagine people with walkers will find it challenging.
The drive to Chester was fun – I’ve read and re-read Bernard Cornwall’s Saxon series (about 21 books) featuring an uncouth but principled warrior named Uhtred, who is Lord of Bebbenburg but spends many books trying to take it back from the Danes who took it from his father, and raised him. It’s complicated. It’s a fascinating series, and it ends with the Battle of Brunanburh.
The Battle of Brunanburh is well documented, it happened, and it was definitive for uniting Britain under one monarch, but the records are ambiguous as to where the battle occurred. Recent archaeological finds indicate it may well be this area, near Chester, and we are passing right by this momentous battlefield.
Chester itself is just as Uhtred describes it, an old Roman City with two major cross streets and an obelisk where the major roads cross.
There is a significant cathedral, and a very old Church of Saint Olaf, the original church for the Danish community, once they arrived.
We found a woolen shop, and in the very back of the shop there is a display of pediments for an old Roman bath. Many shops in Chester have similar spaces, where for centuries, citizens have built over the original Roman structures. This is a city where you could spend months or years.
We walked outside the gates to look at the remains of the Roman Amphitheater, and the course of the river Dee, and how it changed so dramatically over the centuries, away from Chester, leaving Liverpool as the more convenient shipping depot, with the Mersey River.
We ate lunch was at an old pub, The King’s Head (after Charles I, who was beheaded) and our group had it all to ourselves. We sat in old leather booths, drank British beer (I had Ginger Beer) and they fed us fish and chips and mushy peas. Yes, that is a thing. Not a thing familiar or welcome to most Americans, but a thing.
After lunch, we toured the big historic cathedral, and then had a little time on our own, which we spent in the community library. We agreed we would move to Chester in a heartbeat, just for this library, so welcoming (restrooms tourists could use) with an arch way made of books at the entry. Inside was a large snack lobby, all the books, tables and chairs; it was full of young people having a great time and it had a number of cinema rooms upstairs running old movies during the day. It was a delightful public space.
On the way home, the guide played “Ferry Cross the Mersey” as we took the long underground tunnel under the Mersey. We love creative guides – playing this song provided us with a truly memorable moment.
We exited the bus and made a quick walk over to pay homage to the larger-than-life statues of the Beatles prominently on the Liverpool ship harbor. This picture is a miracle – there was a line of people waiting to have their photos taken with the statues – a favorite was holding hands with Paul McCartney – and there had to be a second or two of space while one walked away and the next approached. It took a while! I was lucky to have two seconds to shoot this shot before the next in line took her place.
Another fun, memorable day with so many impressions and images that it is impossible to absorb and integrate them all. I thank God I kept a journal to help me know which day I was in which city!
British Isles: Wales and Carnaefon Castle
We don’t have any activities until we leave for Castle Carnaefon. I woke early, dressed, went up to Explorer Lounge for sunrise and to catch up on e-mails. AdventureMan caught up with me, we went to breakfast, then to the spa. I filled out a Viking request for assessment and delivered it to guest services on my way to the spa.
I’m the only one in the pool for the first half hour, and feel great about exercising without feeling watched. The water is cooler than the first day and more comfortable. AdventureMan joins me, we visit and recover on the lounge chairs, then I return to the room and AdventureMan follows later. We take it easy, read up on Carnaefon Castle, and eat lunch early, then meet up with our group at one. Actually, there are three groups going.
This photo above haunts me. The house is so vulnerable, so low to the water, it would look as if it would flood with a bare rise in the water. In the right lower corner is a small boat with people in it approaching the island. You can see there is an inlet on the riverside of the island where a small boat might be moored and protected somewhat from the vagaries of the river. The house looks sturdily built, but so isolated! So vulnerable!
It is a lovely drive. We have a great guide, who gives us a brief history of Wales, and a lot of history about the castle, which is one of the earliest castles in the British Isles, huge, and is the castle of the Prince of Wales. We start in the kitchen, which had some system of running water, huge fire pits, separate rooms for a variety of functions; the speculation is that the kitchen fed around 600 people daily.
Below is the old kitchen area – inside and outside. It is hard for me to imagine feeding 600 people at least one meal a day every day of the year from this kitchen area.
The walls are huge; high and thick, with arrow slits. We are told that there was little crime within the walls because those caught committing theft or assault were simply thrown out or executed.
AventureMan found a comrade-in-arms in the Castle Museum and they had a long talk, then his new friend called his friend at the Fusiliers Museum and sent AdventureMan there, where he had another really good war-fighting related conversation, while I explored the castle walls and functional areas. I tried to get up the stairs, but there were groups blocking the way, so I had a coffee and hit the gift shop, then sat on a quiet bench in the old kitchen area, waiting to meet up with AdventureMan and the group.
Back on board, we had some of our Greenwich wine and our Herrod’s cheese and sat out on our sunny balcony reviewing our experiences until time to meet up with our friends for dinner. After dinner, we walked the upper decks, chatted with some of the other guests and then returned to the room to prepare for tomorrow’s visit to the ancient Roman city of Chester.
Here is what bothers me. I can say I’ve visited Wales; that might sound impressive. The truth is that today we spent about eight hours in Wales, mostly in the harbor, on the bus, in a historic castle, and then on the bus coming back. There is something in me that does not think this really counts as “visiting” Wales. I have a Welsh friend. I would have loved to have seen more of the country with her; I would have loved to walk the country, speak with the people, eat the food, live through a winter in a small Welsh town. I think the expat in me goes deep. An eight-hour span of time barely begins to touch the surface of a country with a history and culture like Wales. It almost feels disrespectful.
British Isles: Dublin Uses Euros
We are already docked in Dublin when our alarm goes off. We had thought we would be caught up after a sea day, but no, we are not caught up and we have to meet early this morning for our excursion.
We are the first group off the boat, but it is more complicated because the boat is anchored, not docked. That means we will have the added adventure of being tendered, i.e. one of the smaller boats on board will ferry us to the docks where we will catch a bus which will take us into Dublin.
We are greeted by Sean, who is a great jokester. He looks at my ticket and my very Irish name and says “I should just hand the mike over to you!” ha ha. He had a lot of jokes, and kept us laughing all the way into Dublin where our first stop was the Cathedral of St. Patrick’s. He took us around, showing us tombs and chapels and restorations, and where the Knights of Saint Patrick were all seated, separately from other people, with their flags and helmets.
Below is a replica of the ships that took the Irish to the New World during the famine. Below you will also see statues representing the emaciated immigrants seeking shelter in our country. It is a chilling exhibit. It reminds me of the words on the base of the Statue of Liberty – “give me your tired, your poor.”
Back on the bus for a short drive around, then out to the American Ambassador’s house (just a drive by) and a toilet stop – we’re that demographic. Back in Dublin, we pass great shopping stops and Trinity College to be let off at the National Gallery.
We could go back to the ship, but we’re in Dublin. We have tickets to tour the Dublin Castle, so we ask Google to help us get there – only a 19 minute walk.
We tour the castle, an inner city castle, more of an event venue. It’s full of paintings, most on the theme of Sheherezad and the beheading of John the Baptist – dark, gruesome paintings.
The sun is out, and it is a lovely day with a nice breeze. We limp over to the Cecil Beaton museum, where I have heard there is a lovely cafe/restaurant, and indeed, there is, The Silk Road. The restaurant is popular, full, but not crowded, there are tables inside and outside. You go through a line and choose a main course, then you have a choice of three sides.
AdventureMan was holding a table, I chose a lamb moussaka, and then a beet salad, a green salad and stuffed grape leaves. The plate was heaping. I took it to the table and AdventureMan liked the look of it and I invited him to share it with me (Please, AdventureMan!) as it was way more than I could to eat so he got a knife and fork and glass of water and it dish was plenty for both of us.
As a bonus, just across from The Silk Road was a gorgeous gift shop, with truly lovely offerings, unique and artistic and yes, a little expensive but this was not the junk of the gift shops we’ve been seeing, so we found some things we liked, and for gifts, and felt very happy.
AdventureMan got us back to the Viking Shuttle pick up point, and a bus showed up right away, with double decks so they could take a lot of us, and we drove back to the docks, where we tendered back to the ship.
AdventureMan pulled out our wine and cheese, cut off some pieces and we had a few quiet minutes out on the balcony with our feet up, before I had to go to the port talk for our upcoming visit to Holyhead.
I am ashamed to tell you that not long into the port talk, I started falling asleep.
We’ve been walking well over our 10,000 steps daily. One day it was almost 18K, most days are 14K-15K. In Dublin, it was 14K by mid-afternoon. I was truly tired. Fortunately when I told our old friends how tired I was, one said “I slept through half of the presentation.” I suspect a lot of us had problems staying awake; we are all in a demographic that may nap regularly back home.
I did take a short nap back in the cabin, waking when AdventureMan tapped me and said “Honey, I don’t want you to have problems sleeping tonight.” We got to the restaurant around the same time as our friends, and our conversation and laughter revived me.
This is our first cruise where we are traveling with friends. Not as a group, but we’ve met up. Sometimes we are on the same tour, sometimes not. Sometimes we attend the same lectures, sometimes not. We tend to meet up most nights for dinner, and occasionally for lunch. It has worked out well. We have lively discussions, interrupted by trips to the salad bar or soup or ice cream, we disuss what we’ve seen and how we feel about it. We discuss our feelings about how we are changing as aging adults, how our families are growing and changing. We never seem to run out of great topics. It has become a good part of why every day of this trip is one of our best days.
British Isles: A Day – the only Day at Sea
This was our only sea day – a day to do nothing, right? A day to sleep in? And I am awake at my normal 0500, wide awake. Do not want to wake my husband.
Little I can do but working on this journal in the Explorers Lounge before AdventureMan wakes up.
At 9:30 lecture we hit the lecture on Viking history (the peoples, not the ship), spend some time in the spa, and form a team for Trivia Time.
The Salty Sailors won, they were really good. Our team, the Warriors, were two questions away from winning, but hard questions. Who was the Russian dog who was first into space? Some were easy, some were hard.
Then lunch, and a great conversation, then sorting out currency and requirements for our next stop, Dublin, which uses Euros, and then the Port Talk.
Quiet dinner in the World Cafe, many fellow guests dining in the specialty restaurants and more formal restaurant, which is slow and the tables are too close together for our comfort. We found a quiet table in the bar and had a great conversation with a new couple who told us Viking had gone public (somehow we had missed that). They had not missed it; they had stock.
Back in our cabin, we have something new. The couple in the cabin next door enjoy having noisy arguments. The walls here are good at soundproofing, so they must be very loud.
The whole day was foggy and the seas were rough. For the first time ever, we saw Viking had posted barf bags on the stairways, and people were swaying up and down the halls.
British Isles; White Cliffs, Castles and Canterbury
GROAN! We peek out the window and see the White Cliffs, a thrill, but the day is foggy. Morning came so quickly, and my tour, to Leeds Castle and the Canterbury Cathedral will depart at 8:15. AdventureMan’s tour, Britain at War, departs at 8:30. We quickly dress and go to breakfast; it will be a long day.
The tours board quickly, and mine goes through the countryside, full of rolling green hills and white fluffy sheep. As I talked with the tour guide, I asked if their was still any wool industry in this area, Kent, and she said there were people who grew sheep and sheered them, and and a very small artisanal group who spun and dyed the wool and sold it for a very high price to knitters, but they have a saying that it costs as much to feed a sheep as they get from shearing a sheep.
Leeds Castle is beautiful, and intimate, and informal, and we are the first ones there and have it all to ourselves until the teeming hoards arrive.
It is a very old castle, handed by kings to their beloved wives, used as a country house, and a stop before nearby Dover where people would depart for France.
Later, it was owned by a very wealthy American woman, who restored and renovated the castle several times, then donated it along with money to maintain it, to the government. The Leeds castle is open to the public, has a golf course and other entertainments, including one called Go Ape, which has things like ropes from trees, and maybe a zip line, allowing people to experience ape-like behavior, sounds like a lot of fun.
To get these photos, with no people, I hang back just enough to get a clear shot. It’s not easy, taking photos on the run. We are the first group through, lucky us, but we can see more buses arriving. Below is what it looks like with the tour groups coming through:
We have a chance to walk around (the grounds are gorgeous.)
Then we board the bus. Our next stop was Canterbury, where Viking had arranged an English lunch, bangers and mash, for our lunch in a quiet dining area within the Cathedral walls.
The Cathedral, for me, was beautiful with holy spaces. It has a long history, both as a Catholic cathedral, and then as an Anglican Cathedral, and as the place where Thomas a Becket was brutally murdered by Henry II’s henchmen with swords – in the cathedral, where he had taken sanctuary.
The guide introduced us to the cathedral, then encouraged us to tour, gave us maps, and to find our own sacred spaces. It was a lovely experience.
I love all the stained glass, but especially the one below. It is NOT a dying art! Jesus looks Ethiopian!
We all met up again outside the cathedral to make the walk back to the bus, and the drive back.
Dover Castle with the late afternoon light:
Dinner with our friends this evening at the Chef’s Table, where exquisite small dishes are served in courses. I had thought I was nearly sick; I was so tired, but AdventureMan rubbed my feet (13,897 steps) as we dressed. Conversation, as usual, flowed, and I was revived by the loveliness of the evening and being with our friends. We went to bed delighted with another great day.
In the middle of the night, I looked out and saw a wonderful Autumnal full moon, a little drifty and ghostly.
British Isles: We Become THOSE People 😳
This was one of those days full of the unexpected. Our plan was to have breakfast and grab an early cruise shuttle to Greenwich. AdventureMan has done his homework; we like to have a little wine and cheese of our own choice in our cabin, and we want to try some more English cheeses, so he has found a specialty shop, and we know how to get there.
We go out at 9:00, as the schedule says, to catch the shuttle boat, and no one seems to know anything about it. We look around, but all we find is a bridge to the pier with a gate across it, locked and impenetrable. As we start back, a Viking tour person is running towards us and tells us that the boat will arrive at 10, so we wait, and others who want to take advantage of the shuttle arrive and wait with us.
We had an odd experience – before the others arrived, we met a British man who looked healthy and happy and we started talking. He told us he was in rehab, and recovering from years of alcoholism. We learned a lot about his former life – he was successful, and somehow managed his alcoholism, but it was ruining his marriage and his health, and his doctor told him that rehab was his only choice for living a full life. It took a while for him to make that decision, but he is so full of joy telling his story. A deeply cynical part of me was thinking he was going to hit us up for some money, but as it turned out, he was immensely wealthy, and now he was becoming healthy and had clarity for the first time in years. He was a new man. It way an inspirational conversation, waiting for that shuttle to arrive.
The shuttle arrived, we said goodbye to our new friend, a uniformed security person unlocked the gate and we boarded the chartered Uber boat. And then we sat there; something had happened to the groups going to Greenwich for their walking tours and we had to wait for them. It was nearly an hour before they arrived, and we were wondering if we could do this and still make our 2:00 tour to the Tower of London. We decided it would be tight, but we could do it.
Below; the Cutty Sark
Arriving in Greenwich, we rushed off the boat, and walked as fast as we could to the Cheeseboard, where AdventureMan had a great conversation with the young man who did their website (how we learned about this shop) and was very helpful, providing us with four cheeses and descriptions printed on the label so we would know what we were eating. He also provided two very good bottles of wine from Bleye, one red, one white, and we were on our way to catch the shuttle back. We were able to get on, and thought we were home free, but the ship slowed several times, maybe fighting the tide, and stopped one time to pick up supplies for their on-board snack shop, so we began to accept we would not get back in time for our tour.
We docked at two oh two. Just two minutes too late. But our tickets for the tour were in our stateroom, and we were supposed to meet at 1:45 so we were just too late, and figured we would console ourselves in the spa.
A Viking tours person was at the gate as we came it. “Have the tour buses for the Tower of London left?” we asked, and she said yes, the last just left. We headed to the boat, but were interrupted by another Viking tour person, standing by a bus who asked if we were the people supposed to be on the London Tower Tour, and we said yes, we were – and asked if this was the bus? She said yes, we told her we didn’t have our tickets and she said it was all right, Viking would manage it. A miracle! We were last on the bus and sat in the way back, happy just to be on board.
Oh wait. Not so fast. The guide tells us we are too late, we are not going on this bus. Like the bus is already late, WE are the problem, and we are standing there. I said meekly “I think we are on this bus. You need to talk to the Viking rep who just directed us here.” And he made us exit the bus while he and the Viking rep had a spirited discussion. We get it. We don’t even have our tickets with us! We are the problem, and we hate to miss the tour but we get it.
The Viking rep convinces him to take us, so we straggle onto the bus, again, and make our way to the rear, not looking anyone in the eye. We have become THOSE people, people so inconsiderate that their lateness has made the whole bus wait. Oh the agony!
We are so glad it worked out this way. During the ride back into London, the skies suddenly cleared, we had blue skies, the crowds at the Tower were less than two days ago when we had lunch there, and we had a superb Blue Badge tour guide who really knew his history, and even better, knew how to make it interesting. We had time on our own – most went to see the jewels. I’d seen them other trips, I wanted to see the White Tower, which I climbed all the way to the top. I loved the interior spaces. Built in 1070 by William the Conqueror, it had an unexpected graciousness even though its purpose was defensive. AdventureMan spent his equally happy time in the Fusiliers Museum, and we met up with happy hearts for a time well spent in areas we love. It was a very long day. We got back late, and happy. As it turned out, people were not so angry with us, we all got along, and we made friends with the guide, who really was terrific.
Inside The White Tower – military equipment and beautiful spaces!
(detail on a painting in White Tower: “Detail of the earliest known image of the White Tower showing the building’s exterior. The view includes a cutaway to reveal people in an invented interior. From a late 15th century collection of poems by Charles, Duke of Orleans, British Library) Royal MS 16F11:173” (?)
Just look at this glorious day!
I love the juxtaposition of it all, sometimes.
You just never know how a day is going to turn out. Sometimes the things you have the greatest excitement about go bust – something just isn’t right. And some days which seem designed from the beginning to disappoint turn out just the opposite – and this was one of those. Yes, we were late; we were those horrible late people. And despite it, we had a great time in Greenwich, met a great young man who loves his wares and knows how to make a sale, and we had a bonus – we got to take the Tower of London tour with a great guide on a gorgeous sunny afternoon. Yeh. We suffered some embarrassment. It was humbling. We survived.
When we got back we had a message from our friends that they were at dinner in the place where we meet up, and we exchanged news of our day – they were at the Churchill War Room and War Museum, deeply meaningful day for them. Dinner was all the better for great conversation, and we split up early for sail-away, knowing we had early departures for our tour reaching Dover.
British Isles: We Transfer to the Viking Jupiter
Morning came too early, the bag handlers must have started with our room! Promptly at six, the bell rang and AdventureMan had to struggle out of bed to let them in. Fortunately we were able to get back to sleep, and slept until our alarm went off. We headed down to breakfast – no room for us! We had to wait for a table, about twenty minutes, and we had not factored that in. By the time we finished, we barely had time to rush back to our room, gather our carry-ons, and head down to the hotel lobby where we were just in time. As AdventureMan checked out, our group was called. I was one of the first to board the bus and headed to a seat halfway back where we like to sit for the unimpeded view. Just behind me another couple, who as they sat behind us said a little sourly “you got our favorite seat.” Oooh kay. AdventureMan found me, and we had an hour long ride to Tilbury, not Greenwich, where the fun began.
First, we have great admiration for and understanding of the logistics involved in last minute changes, so the awkwardness of the explanations and arrangements were not surprising, but the London Cruise Port was not ready to board a few hundred people. Our buses were stacked up, and after the one hour drive, we sat another hour on the bus. Some of the passengers got testy and argumentative, and finally they let a lucky few off to find the toilets, with the understanding that they must come right back.
Our group was called, not to line up but to sit in the terminal. Maybe fifteen minutes later (we learned there was another couple from Pensacola on board) our area was called to process in – or embark, as they call it. That process was quick, with one surprise, we had to surrender our passports, which we never do, for British immigration and customs.
And then we boarded another bus which took us to a dismal part of the port, surrounded by piles of stones and dirt and cranes and bulldozers and roll on roll off containers and thousands of Hyundai cars awaiting delivery to dealerships.
We were disappointed. We had made plans for Greenwich. We unpacked, put everything away – it’s easy on Viking, we ask for the same stateroom every trip and we know where everything goes already, so unpacking is quick. We decided to go to the pool grill, where a better me would have ordered the seared ahi tuna, but the spoiled baby disappointed me ordered comfort food, the Viking hamburger. With fries!
To further soothe ourselves, when we got back to our room we went down to the gorgeous Viking spa, the only people there, and let the hot bubbling wave pool soothe our disappointment, then we napped.
We have old friends on board! We met up for dinner; these are the kind of friends that, even though we haven’t seen one another for three years, the conversation picks right up where we left off and just keeps going. We ate in the World Cafe, picking and choosing from a fabulous welcome buffet, lots of seafood, crab and shrimp and mussels! There was also a sweet potato soup with ginger that was out of this world, and of course, a choice of ten different ice creams. It’s one of the most popular places on the ship, casual with a luxury of choices.
Bernie, who, with Augustina, below, took good care of us and were a joy to know on the Viking Jupiter.
After dinner, the ship repositions to the main terminal, grand entertainment as we turned in tight quarters, then slid through a tiny canal to the locks leading to the River Thames. It took a couple of hours to complete the process. Out on our balconies, we met our neighbors on both sides, Will and Kate on one side. We dock with our cabin facing the terminal, an old-timey building with a clock tower on top.
Look how close the ship is to the canal edge!
Here is the truth. We were disappointed. We had been told we would be docked in Greenwich; Tillbury is a ways down the road from Greenwich, and more distant from London. We were prepared for Greenwich. We were both a little disgruntled, and aware of how very spoiled we are. Another truth is, until I re-read the journal I kept, and saw the photos, I had forgotten about this altogether, it was such a small disappointment in proportion to the great adventures we had in London and the greater adventures to come. We forgot about it!
British Isles: Day Two in London
We slept. We slept and slept. We didn’t want to get up. My body ached. It got to be eight and we knew we needed to get up and get going, but our bodies said it was still the middle of the night. Coffee. Coffee would help.
We went down to breakfast, and it was lovely, very lovely, hot and cold things but no oatmeal, and I am diabetic. I keep it controlled, but I need my oatmeal. So I treated myself to smoked salmon, and to oat cereal with fruits, and hoped for the best.
After breakfast, we took the Metro to Kensington, another new experience, where we didn’t buy tickets, just used our credit cards like everyone else was doing, remembering to tap in and be sure to tap out so we wouldn’t be charged for a whole day. We walked to the Museum of Natural History, where AdventureMan spent a lot of time with dinosaurs, and I focused on the beginnings of the earth, and found a fabulous display of earth minerals, sparkling minerals. It must be my Scandinavian blood, I love gemstones, and I found an exhibit that captivated me – there are gems I didn’t know about!
This museum quickly became packed with families and groups. By noon, once again my feet were tired. Texted AdventureMan who was also ready to leave. We love these museums but their floors are hard, harder than the pavement and sidewalks in London.
We walked to Herrod’s, getting there late in the game – we had to fight the crowds going in. Every designer of luxury goods has displays on the ground floor, so lovely, so tempting, but we have a mission – we head straight for the food halls, where we find something for dinner and some cheeses to take with us for when we board the ship; we like to have a small stock for wine and cheese as we sail away, or for before dinner celebrations. Just sitting on our balcony as the sun sets is a celebration. Any excuse will do, and having cheese and wine makes it even more special.
We found a wonderful man who knew a lot about cheese, who helped us find two we wanted to try, a Leicester Red and a Black Bomb. I found a smoked salmon salad for dinner, and AdventureMan found a wedge of quiche, and we picked up forks and knives as we headed out. The only souvenir I have bought here that was not edible was a Herrod’s canvas bag for foodstuffs with a leather strap. I love it and I will use it with a smile.
We saved so much money on little stuff that as we left Herrod’s and were trying to figure out whether we wanted to walk back or take the metro. We were right by the long line of taxis lined up to ferry Herrod customers where they needed to go, so I said, “Let’s grab a taxi!” and AdventureMan and his feet agreed heartily.
Our taxi driver was Dominique, from Nigeria, and we had a lively conversation on the way back to the hotel. I had never met a Nigerian Catholic before. I know many Anglican Nigerians, we went to church with them in Doha and Kuwait, but he was Ibo from near the coast. He told us Nigerians do not gather as Nigerians in London, but as communities along tribal lines, so he gathers with large numbers of Ibo in London.
We reorganized and rested briefly, then headed to take a river cruise, which was part of our Big Bus Hop On Hop Off package. We’ve been on these before, like in Paris, the Bateau Mouches, and they can be very crowded and uncomfortable, but it was still early, not crowded and we got good seats. I could get up and down as I needed, and a lot of the things I had seen and photo’d yesterday, so this was all very relaxed. We went from the Westminster Pier to the Tower Pier, got off, grabbed sandwiches at Pret a Manger, then found the HoHo to take us back to our hotel, where we need to pack up to move to our ship tomorrow morning.
We have two more days in London, and already we have had a wonderful time. We are feeling very relaxed, and happy to be here.
Back at the hotel, we got our bags packed for our six a.m. pickup, I took one last luxurious bath in the generous tub the room provided, we had a great conversation with the Polish woman who took care of our room and was married to a Pakistani, and we settled in for a good night’s sleep.
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