RETURNING TO CHINA

It's very hard to leave Sarah behind again. This time she takes me to Newark as the train to London is faster from there, and sees me off at the platform after asking at the gate. When the train pulls up I have time for one last hug before I have to board. I can see she is very unhappy so try to cheer her up with a quick call from the train, which doesn't quite work, so I suggest coffee and cakes might help! Sarah goes off shopping after the train sets off. On board my endlessly creative and reflective mind is already trying to adjust to the idea of life in China.

I arrive at King's Cross at about 11.30 and make my way to St Paul's, where I'm staying at the former Cathedral Choir School, now a YHA.   It's a beautiful building in a very attractive and quite cloistered area of London, right next to St Paul's Cathedral.

I arrange to store my luggage and make my way to the nearest pub for a pint: it's a very quiet little pub until some 20 odd Italian ladies on a tour arrive wanting to use the loo! Some of them do have a drink so the landlord to my surprise acquiesces. This area is somewhat warren-like but very quiet, so in trying to decide what to have for lunch I wander around for a while and find a pub that does fish and chips for £6.50 as a “Brexit Deal”, I'm tempted but they do not seem to offer mushy peas and the place is a bit unpleasant. 

I also visit “Ye olde Cheshire Cheese”, famous as Dr Johnson's old watering hole and a beautiful old pub in it's own right: there can't be many like this left in England. It has it all: old oak panels, rafters, candles, cellars turned into underground bars, and jars to drink out of. 

As I'm trying not to drink too much I have half a pint of beer which is a very good one, I think Doom Bar, then walk back to St Pauls. There is a fish and chip shop which looks very inviting: Sarah thinks London fish and chips is very poor but I have to say they are catching up fast with mushy peas now on the menu and generous portions of fresh fish! In the end however I settle for sushi as I fancy a light lunch.

Afterwards I have a little time to myself so I walk across the famous Millennium Bridge also known as the “wibbly-wobbly bridge” on account of it sways in the wind somewhat, to Tate Modern where I walk around a few quite uninspiring shows apart from Joseph Beuys who is one of my favourite artists. There are many buskers around, music students I guess, living statues and dancers. I stay about an hour and decide I need a rest.

Following this I make my way back to the hostel and check in to my room, collect my bags and make myself at home. It is very warm and stuffy as the weather is hot and there is no breeze so even with the window open it's uncomfortable. I have a shower and settle down to read for a bit, then try and doze off without much success. Finally I change and walk out for the evening. This takes me out for fish and chips at a quiet pub (with mushy peas) and to the Cheshire Cheese, where I have a couple of beers and get chatting to someone who lives nearby, mostly about politics and Brexit, before taking the time to call Sarah so she knows I'm OK.

Later that evening the pubs seem to close early so I go back and sleep. Although it's uncomfortably hot I do manage to get enough sleep. Nearby there is a small but attractive Indian restaurant and also a Chinese one where I see this picture in the window!

I can never do this journey all in one go. I remember the Chinese saying that says a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step: nothing could be truer in this case, as I thought when I left the house. The next day I have to transfer to YHA Thameside, so I have breakfast and arrange to store my bags again. At each stage of the journey I become anxious so try not to think of the bigger picture. Amongst my thoughts is the fear of a terrorist attack of which more later. I find myself looking around me for suspicious behaviour. I also have to renew my travel insurance while at the YHA as I have not had time to do it before, so I hurriedly do it on one of their PCs in the lounge at Reception. YHA breakfasts are great if you have a big appetite but I never do in the morning so I don't eat much, just cereal, beans on toast, orange juice and coffee. I decide to walk along the Thames to Tate Britain (as it's free) and the weather slowly develops into a lowering sky with a threat of rain. I don't mind as it will cool the air however guess who has come out with no raincoat or umbrella!

After I come out of Tate Britain the heavens duly open and I find myself sheltering under a tree for a few minutes until the rain becomes lighter and its OK to walk in. You can see the Shard, (now Britain's tallest building) looking ghostlike as it's shrouded in low cloud!

I get closer to St Paul's as I walk through Trafalgar Square and along the Strand, only to find that as 12 o'clock arrives there are no pubs open! I begin to feel a bit strange as I need food and drink. It seems more and more odd and finding the Cheshire Cheese I imagine roast beef and Yorkshire Pudding: guess what, it's all boarded up. Great. I find a pub which is open and have half a pint, then decide to walk towards the river, which turns out to be a pointless exercise as there is nothing there but banks. I pass several pubs, not one of which is open. I realise it's a Bank Holiday but of all things to close you wouldn't expect the pub to be it! I give up and go back for sushi again.

Afterwards I fetch may bags and transfer on the Central Line via Bond Street as the Northern Line is closed due to repairs. On arriving at Thameside I check in to another hot room at the top and decide what to do with myself. I arrange a late check out and have a beer at a pub next to the hostel. That evening I change and visit the Prospect of Whitby again, unsure of what to have for dinner.

Here's my drawing again from last year so you can see how it compares!

Eventually after mellowing over a couple of pints of IPA I plump for a fish platter which is very good. I sit by the river for a while and relax while I contemplate life. 

It so happens that not far away there is a little wine bar so I pay a visit on my way back to the Underground. It's very pleasant if a bit pricey: I make a note to take Sarah there if she meets me in London next year.

The next morning at breakfast I feel utterly miserable and wish I did not have to go. I'm flying today and decide to go for a walk along the river. The riverside path is very quiet apart from a number of  (mostly female) joggers running along the path all Lycra-clad and carrying little bottles shaped like tyres. I'm so unhappy that I call Sarah and tell her how I feel. She is very kind as always and I do feel better for a chat. The good news is that after I get back to the hostel and do a bit of shopping the pub next door is open. I chat to the lady behind the bar and mention my fear of a bomb attack. She feels that people in London don't worry about it. Well since they live with it every day this makes me feel a lot better and my anxiety dies down somewhat. I call my father who thinks I am having a whale of a time, nothing could be further from the truth at the moment!

Finally it's time to leave. I check out at the hostel and set off with my luggage. There is a feeling of being “on my way” as I walk to the Tube station. I travel via Whitechapel station to Paddington and get the Heathrow Express. I am surprised at the smoothness with which this takes place as it is a Bank Holiday and Notting Hill Carnival is on: the lines are not too crowded and I actually manage to get a seat!

At the airport checking in is easy and not too busy. Within about 45 minutes I'm in the departure lounge looking for somewhere to eat. I settle for chilli at Wetherspoons and call Sarah and my parents one last time before boarding the BA 747 to Beijing.