Day 8, Monday 7th May
Today Stewart arose early and retreated to his 'local' coffee shop for his early morning coffee. Whilst yesterday he was inpressed that they knew what he wanted without even asking, today went one better -his coffee was free! It seems he was first through the door and that entitles one to a free coffee.
The pusher abandoned us early to march to the National Gallery in Trafalgar Square. He was appropriately attired for the days events wearing a suit and collared shirt, and carrying an Italian silk tie folded ne atly in his pocket.
Grannie and I on the other hand remained at the flat and entertained another of Penny's long lost London contacts and his family of four delightful children. We departed late morning and caught the no 22 bus to Piccadilly. Yes, believe or not the doubke decker buses are also all equipped with ramps for wheelchair access so getting around is really a breeze. We alighted at Piccadilly Circus and meandered slowly back to Fortnum and Masons where we spent an hour just watching the passing parade of patrons both rich and poor, judging by their dress, filling their shopping baskets with tea, biscuits and other exceptional produce just as if they were in a Countdown / Coles supermarket. It was amazing and considering the average price of the goods we were quite dumbstruck. The staff in their tails were most attentive and as the wheelchair had by now almost ground to a halt, and we spent alot of time leaning against the pillars and just observing would often approach us to see if we needed any asisstance. Our sunny moring had by now deteriorated to heavy rain so we hung about on the red carpet of F&M a bit longer until the Pusher returned from his sojurn down the Bond St galleries, before heading off as one does for afternoon tea at The Ritz.
Naturally we were duly escorted in the style to which we had become accustomed through the rear entrance courtyard where the chauffeur was just removing the muslin cover from his clients rolls royce and the red ferrarri was parked under cover out of the rain. Yes we were definitly hobknobbing it with the rich and famous. Still, even at The Ritz, the British queued as we waited for the 12 noon sitting to depart and gather their coats from the cloakroom. Thus we were allocated our table and the performance began. Queen Grannie was in heaven as we nibbled delicious smoked salmon sandwiches, cucumber sandwiches and hot scones with strawberry jam and clotted cream - mmmmmm delicious. There was a plate of cakes and tarts on top but we held back momentarily which was just as well since the waiter brought us all individual creme brulees followed by carrot cake and apple crumple cake , just in case we were still hungry. There was every type of tea on offer and naturally a pot for each plus silver milk jugs - one each and naturally individual tea strainers. A truly memorable never to be forgotten moment.
As the day was still young and we were rested and satied we decided to continue the trend for all things British and catch a cab to Harrods. Whilst now in the hands of the Arabs it is still a British institution so we swapped our dodgy wheelchair again and wheeled our merry way from the Pet spa on the top floor to the famous food hall on the ground floor . The whole place was buzzing with tourists although we did witness the counting of copious amounts of cash on top of the Grand Piano in the music department so we guessed that someone was actually a purchaser.
By 7pm the company was tiring so we picked up some curries from the Food Hall and flagged down a cab for the short journey home.
Today Stewart arose early and retreated to his 'local' coffee shop for his early morning coffee. Whilst yesterday he was inpressed that they knew what he wanted without even asking, today went one better -his coffee was free! It seems he was first through the door and that entitles one to a free coffee.
The pusher abandoned us early to march to the National Gallery in Trafalgar Square. He was appropriately attired for the days events wearing a suit and collared shirt, and carrying an Italian silk tie folded ne atly in his pocket.
Grannie and I on the other hand remained at the flat and entertained another of Penny's long lost London contacts and his family of four delightful children. We departed late morning and caught the no 22 bus to Piccadilly. Yes, believe or not the doubke decker buses are also all equipped with ramps for wheelchair access so getting around is really a breeze. We alighted at Piccadilly Circus and meandered slowly back to Fortnum and Masons where we spent an hour just watching the passing parade of patrons both rich and poor, judging by their dress, filling their shopping baskets with tea, biscuits and other exceptional produce just as if they were in a Countdown / Coles supermarket. It was amazing and considering the average price of the goods we were quite dumbstruck. The staff in their tails were most attentive and as the wheelchair had by now almost ground to a halt, and we spent alot of time leaning against the pillars and just observing would often approach us to see if we needed any asisstance. Our sunny moring had by now deteriorated to heavy rain so we hung about on the red carpet of F&M a bit longer until the Pusher returned from his sojurn down the Bond St galleries, before heading off as one does for afternoon tea at The Ritz.
Naturally we were duly escorted in the style to which we had become accustomed through the rear entrance courtyard where the chauffeur was just removing the muslin cover from his clients rolls royce and the red ferrarri was parked under cover out of the rain. Yes we were definitly hobknobbing it with the rich and famous. Still, even at The Ritz, the British queued as we waited for the 12 noon sitting to depart and gather their coats from the cloakroom. Thus we were allocated our table and the performance began. Queen Grannie was in heaven as we nibbled delicious smoked salmon sandwiches, cucumber sandwiches and hot scones with strawberry jam and clotted cream - mmmmmm delicious. There was a plate of cakes and tarts on top but we held back momentarily which was just as well since the waiter brought us all individual creme brulees followed by carrot cake and apple crumple cake , just in case we were still hungry. There was every type of tea on offer and naturally a pot for each plus silver milk jugs - one each and naturally individual tea strainers. A truly memorable never to be forgotten moment.
As the day was still young and we were rested and satied we decided to continue the trend for all things British and catch a cab to Harrods. Whilst now in the hands of the Arabs it is still a British institution so we swapped our dodgy wheelchair again and wheeled our merry way from the Pet spa on the top floor to the famous food hall on the ground floor . The whole place was buzzing with tourists although we did witness the counting of copious amounts of cash on top of the Grand Piano in the music department so we guessed that someone was actually a purchaser.
By 7pm the company was tiring so we picked up some curries from the Food Hall and flagged down a cab for the short journey home.
What a wonderful adventure you all are having. I enjoyed reading about it. We loved London, too!
ReplyDeleteOh Spew.... really??? that's a SHOCKING expression!
ReplyDelete