Category: A Couple in England

A Couple In England – Windsor

As you probably know by now, my Husband, who is accompanying me on my trip to England in a week, is not a history buff, nor is he very good at playing tourist. I have been trying my best to add items to our London and Bath itineraries that he will also enjoy and don’t mind telling you that it’s been a hard slog. Therefore, when it came time to plan our stay in Windsor, the final leg of our trip, I gave up any pretence of pretending that this entire trip wasn’t designed for my sole pleasure and have crafted an itinerary sure to make my Husband’s head spin, whilst no doubt making his feet hurt. You may recall that Victoria, Jo Manning and I have a good friend who lives in Windsor, the author Hester Davenport. Who has actually met the Queen, I might add. You can read all about it here. Last time Vicky and I were in Windsor with Hester, we toured the Castle and visited the grave of Mary Robinson, mistress of George IV, about whom Hester has written a biography.

This time out, Hester and I have been fiendishly crafting an itinerary to gladden any history buff’s heart. No matter that it is guaranteed, at the same time, to send Hubby off the deep end.  We shall be visiting the Windsor and Royal Borough Museum, which Hester has played a part in developing, and will then again be touring Windsor Castle. This time out, we will also be taking a rarely open tour of the royal kitchens, something we are both looking forward to seeing. And I’ll get to see this magnificent portrait of the Duke of Wellington that hangs in the Castle again.
Next day, we’ll be driving to Oatlands in order to visit the pet cemetery of Frederica, Duchess of York, pictured above in black and white. Naturally, Hester and I are both excited about this stop – I can only imagine what Hubby’s reaction will be . . . . Then it’s on to Hampton Court Palace, a place I have never seen, if you can believe it. I’m especially interested in seeing Apartment 8, where the Duke of Wellington’s sister, Lady Anne Smith, lived.
No doubt Hubby will opt out of certain of the aforementioned entertainments. Unfortunatley, the thing he can’t opt out of is our nine hour flight home, followed by a seven hour layover in Newark, and then another flight to Florida. We’ll be leaving England at ten a.m. and not landing in Florida until 11 p.m. – a total of 18 hours travel time. Hubby, naturally, has no idea what he’s in for, as I’ve decided not to spoil the trip by telling him in advance what fate awaits. Have I mentioned that he has a bad back? Reader, it won’t be pretty. So, while I’m looking forward to the trip, at the same time I’m dreading our return journey. I can’t help but think that January 5th, 2013 will be the date of my very own Waterloo. . . . . to be continued (one hopes).

A Couple In England: Bound For Bath

As I write this, the news is filled with reports of floods, cold snaps and even snow in the UK. However, my heart is warmed by the thought of returning to Bath, one of my favourite cities. Bath stone, Georgian architecture and Regency reminders on virtually every street. As you may know, my Husband is a reluctant tourist. Our most recent discussion about the Bath portion of our trip went something like this:
Him – We don’t have to be doing something every minute of every day.
Me – Mmmmmmm.
Him – What’s there to do in Bath, anyway?
Me – Well . . . . there are the Roman baths and the Assembly Rooms and the Holburne Museum and the ice rink and the Royal Crescent. And, er, the Fashion Museum.
Him – (Groan, eye roll, deep sigh) Remember that I’m old and have a bad back, will ya? I can’t keep going and going every day like you.
Me – You’re not that old. You’re only four years older than me. 
Him – Yeah, but you’re actually interested in British history and you don’t have a bad back.
Point taken. But it’s Bath. Our hotel is in walking distance of Pulteney Bridge (above) and the Abbey and I must admit to having splurged on this portion of our trip – we are booked into the Wellington Suite for the duration – sitting room, bedroom and bathroom with a tub big enough for a right proper soaking. So far, in addition to those items listed above, our itinerary for the three days in Bath includes a bus tour of the City, a stroll of the streets of Bath, a trip to Longleat House for the Christmas extravaganza, some shopping, some pub hopping, a horse and carriage ride, New Year’s Eve dinner followed by fireworks over the Abbey and finally a New Year’s day trip to a nearby spa for two hours of couples pampering. I mean, one must spa when in a spa town, non?

The only dark spot on the Bath horizon (aside from a grumbling husband) is that the City won’t be filled with people dressed in period costume. Note to self: attend Jane Austen Festival one year soon. When I think of Bath, I think of Mrs. Delaney and Jane Austen, Beau Nash and liveried footmen. It’s a bit of shock to arrive to find the streets populated instead with 21st century people dressed in down jackets, button down shirts and jeans and not a single gleaming brass button in sight.
Upon taking a really good look at our itinerary, I admit it may seem a tad crowded. Ish. And Hubby might have cause to gripe at having to take the train, and then a taxi, to Longleat. And having been at Longleat all day long visiting the house, Christmas displays and perhaps even the safari park, Hubby might not be in the mood to return to the hotel, get all spruced up in order to go out for dinner and then stay up until midnight to watch the fireworks display. The phrase “going and going” comes to mind, but, hey, things could be worse for the Husband. At least I’m not expecting him to dress like Colin Firth.

A Couple In England – Google Maps

Holy crow, am I tired! I have been walking the length and breadth of London and I haven’t even gotten there yet. I’m using Google maps streetview. Do you know about this invention? I knew that it existed, but have never used it so extensively, nor so amusingly, before. I’ve been plotting our every move through the streets of Town in preparation for our visit in December. And in the wake of doing so, I’ve been making some minor adjustments to our route(s).

When Victoria and I are in London together, we give nary a thought to the amount of walking we do on any given day. We walked miles the last time we were there, given that it was Open Garden Squares week and we were determined to see a good many of them. Alas, my Husband is not a big walker. Thus, it was a good thing that I used Google streetview to plot the extensive, nay exhaustive, itinerary I’d planned for us. It’s a fairly good walk from Half Moon Street, where our hotel is located, to Speaker’s Corner, where we’ll be visiting Winter Wonderland on Friday night. And I don’t think the Husband would appreciate walking from our hotel to Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese in Fleet Street. A nicely timed stroll to Apsley House or the Guards Museum in Birdcage Walk may just be doable . . . . .

Having had my memory of London walks refreshed, I began to second guess the daily itineraries I’d sketched for our time in Bath. The Holburne Museum is just a street away from our hotel, and the Abbey is a walkable distance, as well. Just over the Bridge, in fact. However, they must have moved the Royal Crescent and the Fashion Museum since I was there last, as they are both now considerably removed from our neighborhood, a fact that escaped me when I was making our plans. I have since made some minor adjustments to our daily itineraries in both London and Bath, many of which involved the inclusion of taxi cabs, and am now fairly certain that our marriage will survive the trip.

In case you need your memory of British places refreshed, or if you simply want to take a stroll through your favorite city, do try Google Maps streetview – and happy walking!

A Couple In England – Half Moon Street

I try to stay in a different part of London each time I visit. So far, I’ve stayed in various hotels in Victoria, Bayswater and Kensington. This time over, I’ve opted to stay in Mayfair, more precisely in Half Moon Street, located between Piccadilly and Curzon Street. According to Christopher Hibbert’s London Encyclopedia, Half Moon Street took its name from a public house which stood on the corner of Piccadilly. The street backs onto Shepherd’s Market and is literally around the corner from the In and Out Club on Piccadilly, shown below.

In The Handbook of London: Past and Present, Volume 1 by Peter Cunningham, we find the following mentions of HALF MOON STREET, Piccadilly –
“Last Friday evening died Mrs. Winter, who many years kept the Half-Moon Ale-house, in Piccadilly, in which it is Said she acquired near 8000L., which she has left to her poorest relations.”— Gazeteer, Sept. 6th, 1758.
” Yesterday, James Boswell, Esq., arrived from Scotland at his lodgings, in Half Moon Street, Piccadilly.”— Public Advertiser, March 11th, 1768.
While lodging in Half Moon Street in 1768, Boswell entertained Dr. Johnson, Dr. Robertson, Baretti, and other literati. In fact, Half Moon Street lays claim to many literary residents. Pope, the actor, lived at No. 5, and his first wife, the celebrated actress (formerly Miss Young), died at the house on the 18th of June, 1803, aged 26. The celebrated physician, Dr. Samuel Merriman, occupied No. 26 from 1813 to 1825; and John Galt, the novelist, was at No. 29 in 1830. William Hazlitt, the essayist, lodged at No. 40 for a short time. He came from Down Street in 1827, and went to Bouverie Street, Fleet Street, in 1829.
In A Wanderer in London, author Edward Verrall Lucas, tells us –
“In Half Moon Street, named, like many other London streets and omnibus destinations, after a public house, lived for a while such very different contemporaries as Hazlitt, Shelley and Madame d’Arblay. I like the picture of Shelley there a hundred years ago: “There was,” says Hogg in his life of his friend, “a little projecting window in Half Moon Street in which Shelley might be seen from the street all day long, book in hand, with lively gestures and bright eyes; so that Mrs. N. said he wanted only a pan of clear water and a fresh turf to look like some young lady’s lark hanging outside for air and song.”
In addition to Shelley, Fanny Burney, Madame D’Arblay, lived for a time in Half Moon Street. In Literary Landmarks of London, Laurence Hutton writes –
“Madame D’Arblay (moved) to the corner of Piccadilly and Half Moon Street, on the east side of the latter thoroughfare; but the house no longer remains. She died in Lower Grosvenor Street, New Bond Street, in 1840. I remember Madame D’Arblay (Fanny Burney) living on the east side of the street, in the last house overlooking Piccadilly. Her sitting-room was the front room over the shop, then a linendraper’s, now a turner’s, shop.”

In Joyce Hemlow’s biography of Fanny Burney (Oxford 1958) we are told that, “In 1828 Alex, dissatisfied with his accommodation in 11 Bolton Street, persuaded his mother to move to 1 Half Moon Street, where he could have a large and well-lighted study. This dwelling was opposite Green Park and still near the squares that Fanny liked for their walks and fresh air. She was still within half an hour’s summons of the `gracious and beloved Princesses’ and easily accessible to members of the family who happened to come on brief visits to London . . . . . . Marianne Francis used to tell of typical evenings in Half Moon Street with Madame d’Arbvlay talking `in her animated, hand clasping, energetic French way, telling her long curious stories till she was quite hoarse, and dr Mama fast asleep but jumping up every now and then in her sweet way, to fall in with the current of the remarks, answering in her sleep.”
Moving forward in time, we come to a whole host of fictional literary characters who have called the Street home – Algernon Moncrieff’s Half Moon Street flat featured in the first act of Oscar Wilde’s The Importance Of Being Earnest, and Sapper’s Bulldog Drummond resided at 60A Half Moon Street. Personally, the most interesting fictional characters who live in the street are Bertie Wooster and his man, Jeeves. For live there still they must. Perhaps, if I’m vigilant whilst in residence there, I will catch a glimpse of Jeeves on his way back home from a shopping expedition at Berry Brothers. At the very least I may spot Gussie Fink-Nottle or Aunt Agatha. With luck, I’ll be invited round for a martini . . . . . . . .
And finally, since most things on Number One London tend to come back around to the Duke of Wellington, I’ll mention that Flemings Hotel in Half Moon Street was founded by Robert Fleming in 1851, a date commemorated by the hotel’s stained glass window depicting the Great Exhibition at Crystal Palace. Before founding the hotel, Fleming was a valet to the 1st Marquis & Marchioness of Angelsey at 1 Old Burlington Street in London. And that finishes up this post pretty neatly, what ho?

A Couple In England – Free Airline Tickets?

You will no doubt recall how thrilled my husband was when I recently let him in on the fact that we’d be flying to England on Christmas Day. One of his first remarks, made just after, “Oh, eh?” was, “How much is this going to cost us?” “Hardly anything at all,” I replied, content in the knowledge that I’d been passing every purchase I conceivably could through my American Airlines credit card.

Recently, I used all the Advantage Miles I’d accumulated in order to book tickets for our flights to England and used the miles for two tickets from Newark to London (I just missed out point-wise on two round trip tix). I figured I’d use cash and buy our return tickets later. When later came, I was shocked and dismayed to find that purchasing two one way tickets home would cost us three times what a round trip ticket would cost. Holy C@@P!!!!

To put it mildly, I had Royally Screwed Up. What to do? What to tell the Hubby, who lingers under the impression that I have everything to do with this trip under control? And that it’s going to be relatively economical? I pondered this dilemma for days, all the while with Alec Baldwin’s voice playing in my head as he laughed maniacally about `blackout dates’ and the horrors of trying to use one’s accumulated miles, much less rearranging them. I remembered every frequent flyer horror story every friend of mine had ever related.

I put off calling American Airlines for days, certain of the fact that no good at all would come from the call and that I would be left with no choice but to triple pay for our airfare. Finally, I worked up my courage and called. And an angel named Betty answered. And listened patiently to my panic stricken tale. And then undid and rearranged my previous travel arrangements, smoothed everything out and only charged me a $150.00 penalty to do so. And all without said Hubby finding out.

Oh, there was one hitch – those dreaded black out dates. It turns out that no frequent flyer seats were available for our planned return date, so now Hubby and I must make the supreme sacrifice and stay in England an extra day.

Betty, you are a star.