S and I had wanted to bring back some of the Marks and Spencer special Strawberry and Champagne conserve. We had tried some in Oxford and loved it, but did not purchase any there, thinking all of the stores in London would have it. None that we checked did, so S called the one on Edgware Road this morning, and they had some in stock. So, with three hours before we had to leave for the airport, we headed to Royal Oak station. Little did we know that they were having “severe delays” on the Hammersmith & City line eastbound. We waited on the platform for a half hour, and I told S that if we did not see the train approaching at 11:34, we would have to abort the mission. We saw the train at 11:33:47, so we made it there and back in less than a half hour.

Returned home to pack, then caught a minicab to Heathrow. Arrived with plenty of time and spoke with a wonderful agent named Pam who sorted out my seat assignment. Apparently a big muckety-muck customer wanted my seat, and the agents at La Guardia were more than happy to oblige. Pam straightened it all out, and we both got our original seats back.

But, our troubles were only beginning. Arrived at Dulles at 8pm, only to discover that our connecting flight to La Guardia had been canceled, and we were booked on the next flight out in the morning. Seeing that there was another flight to JFK, we decided to uncheck our bags and try to fly standby on that one. Unfortunately, at Dulles, after Customs, you have to re-enter security, at which point S was stopped for carrying liquid food products, the very same conserve we got at M&S this morning. I made it through with no problem.

Stuck in the “Clean Zone” we could neither take our bags out nor re-check them unless we were going to be on the same flight with them. S went back into the clean zone and re-checked her bags on the next morning’s flight. I decided to do the same, but removed my dopp kit so I would have a toothbrush and shampoo in the morning. Unfortunately, this time through, just 10 minutes after it had previously cleared security, my dopp kit did not make it through, and I was lectured about liquids. The security agent also confiscated a mini-leatherman tool that had made it through untold number of previous security screenings, then handed me a plastic bag and told me to put all of my liquids in it. Rather than protesting or asking why, I complied and moved along. (Keep in mind, she asked me to do this after I had passed through security, so the reason for putting it in the plastic bag at this point is still unknown to me.)

On to the Red Carpet Club, where we attempt to verify our flights and secure lodging for the night. There we discover that we have been booked on different flights in the morning, and the airline will not cover our hotel, as it was a weather-related problem. Get both of us on the 8:15am flight, but it means I have to cancel two client meetings scheduled for tomorrow.

We head out of the airport to wait for the hotel shuttle. A sign directs us to our left, and we follow it for about a hundred yards. We exit the terminal, only to discover that outside, we must now walk back the hundred yards to the spot where hotel shuttles pick up passengers. Wait another half hour for the shuttle, then finally arrive at the hotel at 10:30pm.

As we check in, we are told shuttles to the airport leave every hour on the hour. We would like to get one at 6:45am. Sorry, you will have to take the 6am shuttle. Oh and by the way, there is a complimentary breakfast served from 6-9am. But our shuttle leaves at 6am. Oh, then sorry, you will not be able to have the breakfast.

Get to our room, only to discover that it is situated directly behind the elevators, and every time one is used, a tremendous rumbling vibration runs through the entire room. Back down to the front desk, where we are asked, what kind of a noise is it? A loud one, we say, as if it matters at all, and are eventually re-assigned to a different room.

Got in to Dulles at 8pm, and have just now settled in to bed at 11:25pm. I can only hope tomorrow brings us better luck.

My cold got much worse during the night, but I still managed to get up early enough to head down to Westminster Pier. We were going to try to see the Thames Barrier, but when we got there, we were told that they only went there during summer months. Would have been nice if their website had said as much.

So we walked along the Victoria Embankment, and cut up to Trafalgar Square. I wanted to see St Martin of the Fields church, but they were closed for renovation. Strike two.

Walked up Charing Cross Road, had a late breakfast, and then headed for the book stores. Though I had done it before, I again took the opportunity for # 17 – Go used book shopping in London, and picked up 4 more books, including a £1 Compleat Angler from one of the bins outside, and a few more natural history books.

Stopped for a pint at the Sherlock Holmes pub (exactly what you would expect) and then headed home.

When we got home, S discovered that United had bumped my seat assignment, and I no longer had the ample legroom seat we had reserved and confirmed in August. Instead, I was merely confirmed on the flight with no seat assignment. It being after 5pm on a Sunday, all the local United offices were closed, and our calling card did not work to US 800 numbers. S had to call a friend in the States to conference call a US United representative. Apparently, someone decided that I didn’t merit the seat with ample legroom and bumped me. They say it might have been for an air marshal, but she could neither confirm nor deny…..

S got me a middle seat in the Economy Plus section, adequate legroom, but wedged in between two other strangers. Should be fun with my cold and all. I bet they’ll love sitting next to me.

Went for our last dinner to the Durbar, and then to the internet cafe so I could upload my novel to Google as a backup. Am up to 48,200 words, and hoping to finish on the flight.

Went to bed last night and could not fall asleep. It felt like someone was wringing the air out of my lungs, and the wheezing in my chest was so bad that the sound of it in my ears kept me awake. The Tylenol PM I had in my dopp kit was probably expired and therefore did nothing for me.

Woke this morning around eleven, and felt a little better. The cough had become productive, and my chest was far less tight. Decided I was able to go out for a bit, so we ate breakfast in and headed to the British Museum. On a Saturday.

The British Museum has been one of my favorite places in London since I started coming here a few years ago. However, I had previously only been on a weekday. Saturdays are quite different. The crowds were almost overwhelming in the main galleries, so we went up to the new acquisition room on the fourth floor. Much more subdued up there.

While there, I tried to test my new way of looking at art. Appreciate the piece first, then look at the placard. First thing I began to notice is that English placards for fine art are much different than American ones. In addition to artist, medium, dates, and production notes, we get the following:

The closed eyes in the upper portrait suggest death or sleep; those below are partially open. The ambiguity between life and death gives the work its haunting power.

Kiki Smith, Two

Not only are they telling us relevant biographic information, but they are now telling us how we should interpret it. I am surprised that the British got here first, because this is something that seems American in the worst sense of the word. No longer just present the art, but tell us why it is meaningful. Allow us to bring nothing to it, while at the same allowing us to not think about it so we can get on with our busy days.

In another section, where there were Renaissance drawings on display, I saw two sketches side by side, and thought one was clearly more appealing than the other. I will write more about this after I return, after I have had a chance to process it and look at some of my photos.

After the museum, we decided to have an early dinner and went to a place nearby, Abeno, that S had read about on Chowhound. There is apparently a sort of mini-rage going around London these days for Japanese pancakes called Okonomiyaki. They are egg, cabbage, and tempura based thick patties that they cook at your table. You select what other ingredients go in, and they mix them on the spot. It being England, we selected bacon and cheese. Our server cooked the pancake while we enjoyed avocado and tofu gyoza, age dashe dofu, and tea. The meal was delicious, and I would highly recommend it. It was also the most expensive meal of our trip thus far, coming in around £40.

Back to the neighborhood, but first a cluster fuck unlike anything I’ve seen here before, where only one entry turnstile was open at the Tottenham Court Road station. Took twenty minutes to get from the street to the platform, but once there, no trouble getting to Notting Hill Gate. A quick pop in to Marks and Spencer for snacks tonight in case we get hungry, then home.

Woke up early this morning, as S had to pop in to the London branch of her office and do a quick presentation. We stopped by a local cafe and had a full English breakfast (eggs, bacon, sausage, mushrooms, toast, tomato, and beans. Don’t mock the beans, they’re delicious) and then while S went to an internet cafe to post an email, I went looking for an electronics or hardware store to find a step-down converter. At the Tool Lodge across the street from the cafe, they had one for £22, but I wasn’t quite ready to spend $44 yet, after having spent $30 in Oxford for the same thing. It was quite large, too large to fit into my shoe inside my suitcase, and not something I wanted to carry around with me all day. Told them I’d be back and went and collected S.

Headed on the Circle Line to Tower Hill, then walked to St Katherine Docks where S had her presentation. I went to a Starbucks, where I thought I’d be able to get online with my PDA. No such luck. Apparently TMobile Hotspot membership is only good in one country, and my US subscription didn’t carry across the Atlantic. So I sat and waited and did the crossword. Or at least tried. They are devilishly hard here, and very different from the US crosswords.

When S was done we walked to Borough Market on the south side of the Thames. There is a stall there that sells bacon rolls that are unlike any I’ve ever had anywhere else, and we always try to stop by when we’re in London. In fact, S usually plans our trips so we will be here on Friday and Saturday, the only two days the market is open.

Oddly, when we arrived, I didn’t much feel like a bacon roll, and instead opted for the pork and stilton burger, which was outrageously good. S got the bacon roll, then we bought some clotted cream and sea salt from a nearby stall. If you’ve never been to Borough Market, it is one of the best organic markets in the world. Local farmers have been going to the same spot to sell their goods for nearly 3 centuries, and the quality is exceptional. A few years ago we saw Prince Charles wandering through the stalls (apparently he has interest in organic foods), and when we were in a section away from his entourage, we overheard a local ask what all the fuss was about. When told it was the Prince and Camilla, this very English man gave a very English response: “Prince Charles, is it.” He didn’t run out to look at him,or ask what he was doing (as most Americans would have), he just simply stated it back to the man behind the counter.

We headed down an alley to Neal’s Yard Cheese shop, and was S ever disappointed. One of her favorite foods is cheese, of all kinds, and this shop is a bit of a Mecca for her. The problem is much of what they were offering is off-limits to her. Technically, she’s not supposed to eat any soft cheeses or any unpasteurized cheeses, which left very little for her to select. But, after discussing it with a cheesemonger inside, she decided unpasteurized hard cheeses were okay, since the aging process gave them acids that fought off listeria, and we selected a well-aged cheddar (and I got a soft, unpasteurized one for myself).

Heading back to the house, we alighted at Bayswater, and while S went in to a shop to get a tag for the dog, I popped in to a hardware store. They had a 100 watt step-down transformer for only £16, and when I explained the situation with the guy, he said this should work. He also said laptops do indeed draw a lot of power, and it wouldn’t surprise him if it blew a 30 watt transformer. I bought it, and when we returned home, I looked at the box and discovered, indeed, that volt amps are the same as watts, and my laptop apparently draws 115 watts. Good to know, but still have the same problem, as this transformer only rates up to 100. Compromise: I will use it while on battery power, and then re-charge it when drained. Re-charging seems to draw far fewer watts/volt amps, so all should work just fine. (I tested this before I wrote this post, and it does seem to be a solution.)

A stop by Boots for cough medicine (I woke up with a tickle that grew into a full-blown dry, hacking cough. The English have a very amusing way of describing coughs. The pharmacist asked me,”Is it a chesty cough, or a tickly cough?”) then back home for a nap and a little novel writing (up to 44,000 words), then we were ready for dinner.

S had heard of a place in South Lambeth, that some claimed was the best curry house in all of London. We took the Circle line to Victoria, then Victoria line to Vauxhall, and immediately got lost when we came above ground. Stumbled around a bit, but with the help of a friendly pedestrian, found our way to the restaurant.

S made the reservation for us weeks ago, and it was a good thing she did. Hot Stuff has a seating capacity of 28, and apparently is full all the time, every night. The owner is a man named Raj, and his parents opened the place 20 years ago. We told him that he had been written up in the New York Times, and he said he knew, that I must have missed the article posted in the front window (I had). He told us that for the next 2 months after that article appeared, 80% of his customers were Americans. He added that any American that adventured into South Lambeth for a hole in the wall cantina, was the kind of American he wanted as customers. I’m sure he was just buttering us up, but there was no need to. His food spoke for itself. Some of the best curry I’ve ever had, and definitely the best Dal soup I’ve ever had. S asked him for the recipe, but he wouldn’t give it up.

Raj arranged a mincab for us, negotiated the £18 fare for us, and then saw us off. We headed back home, where my cough seemed a bit worse. Off to bed, and I can only hope that it isn’t worse in the morning.