This morning, with regret, I checked out of the Northumberland Hotel in Edinburgh and took the bus all the way up the A701 (I think is the most generic name I can give a street that changes names seven or eight times) to North Bridge Street and walked the short distance to Princes Street, rounding the Balmoral Hotel, and taking the series of escalators down to the Edinburgh Waverley station. See, I stayed so long in Edinburgh that I can be really descriptive.
I was fairly early for my train to London, so I puttered around a bit, and got on the train with no problem. My seat was next to a young black man named Joseph from Peterborough (north of London), originally from Kenya. We chatted for a long time. He got off the train at York, and I had two seats to myself for half the trip. We talked a lot about what Americans are like, fascination with American football, housing, and travel. He didn't realize just how big a state is until I explained that Georgia is about the size of all of Great Britain, and there are 49 other states besides. Actually I just looked it up and Great Britain (Scotland, England, and Wales) is 80,000 square miles and Georgia is only about 60,000, but close enough.
I said I had no problems..until the ticket taker came by and asked for my ticket. I had two: one was a confirmation receipt, the other was apparently the confirmation of reservation of my seat. I was missing the actual ticket to ride, which I insisted the machine at the station didn't give me. After calmly explaining to the ticket taker that I was showing him everything the machine gave me and maybe it had had a malfunction, he said he was hesitant to write me one of "these" (he said, holding up the same kind of pad a policeman uses when he writes you a citation) because it was a legal enforceable document, and that he would make a note for "the next guy". This was after we had been in motion at least fifteen minutes but hadn't gotten to the first stop. Mentally, I was prepared for whatever would happen. I had the print outs, and I had the confirmation email on my iPhone showing the exact same date, time, and amount in pounds. I was willing to charge what I needed to on my American Express card in order to leave the station, but I was also prepared to debate my way out of it and any fee they might want to charge me for not having the right piece of paper. I haven't had the Amex card long, and may cancel it before next year when they start assessing an annual fee, but one good thing about it is it's easy to dispute charges. It's one reason why some businesses don't take American Express, because they tend to favor their customer in complaints and reject the charge. I was confident I would be able to get any additional fees imposed rejected. I had all but played my "I'm an American citizen" card with the ticket taker, and I was ready to explain (if needed) that I don't take trains, I drive; that the machine didn't tell me how many pieces of paper I should have; that I got five tickets from London to Edinburgh, and two from Edinburgh to Glasgow; that all I know about taking trains is from first-hand experience in the past month.
But God was with me on this one. I never saw that ticket taker again, and no one else asked me about my ticket. Even getting off the train, I wasn't detained. I went to the Way Out, pulled out both pieces of paper at the exit turnstyles (actually electronic gates that open when you slide your ticket through) and approached a woman standing next to the handicapped/bulky luggage gate. I held them both out and asked which one it was. She glanced at them (couldn't possibly be any longer than to see that both were colored orange and white) and let me through. Crisis averted.
I stood off to the side with my iPhone and tried to get my bearings, and saw a sign for the Underground. I inquired at the ticket counter about how to get to my hotel, and got some half-fuzzy directions (platform two? there is no platform two...). Once I got sorted out, I easily boarded the right Underground train, took it to Liverpool Street, changed to the Central (red) line eastbound, and straight to Stratford.
London is colder than it was when I was here way back in September. It was overcast, cold, and a bit windy. I managed to find my way to my hotel, but ONLY because I had the Maps app as my compass. Lodge 51 at 51 Romford Street is a bit of a hole in the wall. I'm not thrilled with it, my room is on the third floor, and I'm having to share both the toilet AND the shower. I'm very happy that I brought all-rubber sandals to wear just in case this happened. The bed is maybe a full size, but it's shoved against the window, and I hear a lot of street noise, and tons of sirens, but less as the night goes on. I should be fine for sleeping, I think. The bed feels fairly comfortable and has thick blankets, and there is a radiator in the room that I think I figured out how to work.
For dinner I had fish and chips. The fish, a haddock, was seriously the length of my arm from elbow to wrist...and the guy commented almost apologetically that the cod, which would be fresh but take 7-8 minutes, was enormous. I'm glad I didn't get the cod. As for the fries, it was an enormous amount itself. There was no place to sit, so I took it back to my hotel and sat in the common kitchen (I could cook for myself if I bought my own supplies). I ate all the fish and only a few fries, that's how much there was. It was a really good deal for about £5.20.
This area is a poorer part of London. There seems to be a lack of restaurants and an abundance of liquor stores and casino stores. The Stratford Campus of the University of East London is just down the street from me. I don't know what I'm going to do about breakfast; probably grab something from the Sainsbury's grocery down the street, then take the Underground to Buckingham Palace, then the Sweeney Todd exhibit, then hopefully the Tower Bridge. I still have my Oyster Card which is a subway debit card you load up with money and gives you discounted fares.
It's been almost a month that I've been over here. I'm tired and this cold I'm catching is making me cranky, but I've had a lot of fun here, and done an amazing amount of stuff. I'm ready to be home though. I've been invited to a Halloween party, and I need to think of what costume to wear.
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