A CHELSEA FAN?
A slight drizzle met us at the door of the Holiday Inn Express this morning. We delayed our departure so as to walk to Stamford Bridge for their stadium tour and museum.We walked south along North End Road past the countless green grocers and Halal Butchers until which time a left turn took us onto Fulham Broadway and towards the stadium proper.Now this was going to be something akin to a couple of hours in purgatory for me. Being a Newcastle Utd fan since conception a visit to Stamford Bridge was unwarranted and similar to a masterclass in self harming. But just as much as it hurt me, there was a certain 13 year son on my heels who thought he had arrived at The Pearly Gates.
We then gathered our selves and walked to the guards museum and toy soldier shop on Birdcage Walk. Once again the gates were closed. The proprietor of the shop exited and came to the fence for a quick chin wag. If my eyes were closed I would have sworn it was the voice of Patrick Stewart in a Shakespearean role (not that Star Trek BS). Our new friend regaled us with the state of his country and his distain for politicians. I swear his moustache and mischievous appearance took me back immediately to every painting of Guy Fawkes I had ever witnessed. Today was budget day in the UK. This was a bad thing no matter what side of the house you metaphorically sit on. It will be bad for all but for the self employed (like our new friend Patrick) yet another kick up the nightdress. Patrick (I don't know his real name) described in detail what manner of medieval tortures he has selected for each of his most disliked MP's. It took us an hour to get through the list, as Patrick has clearly mused over this for a while and seems capable of each. We left Patrick biter, twisted and entertained as we waved goodbye. As we walked, Allistair asked if all English people were funny. I replied yes son, all except your father.Back through St. James Park to the rear of Whitehall and into Churchill's War Rooms underground. One word, exceptional. Exceptional tour and exceptional man. Go there and do this when in town. If only I didn't have the devil's spawn carry on bag I would have spent way too much on souvenirs from that gift shop!Next stop the Buckingham Arms for two plates of bangers and mash and two pints. Once again the reason I come here every time I am in London. Just around the corner from the Queen's house. Great food, great beer, great service all the while surrounded by pictures of the Royal Family pulling their own pints behind the bar. One does enjoy one's favourite ale!We read our London evening Standard newspapers while soaking up the atmosphere and the onion gravy. People started pouring in at 5:30 so we bid the barmaid farewell and headed for St. James Station and tubed back to West Brompton. Great day! Sore feet!