"I require a competent man not averse to violence."
So, I spent the weekend in London, with tinselworm and then astrolabus. Went to the zoo, and up the Shard, and various other places (pubs, so many pubs, oh God).
Arrived on Thursday afternoon, and having a few hours to kill rashly decided to walk from Kings Cross to Russell Square, then after passing a couple of hours in The Queen's Larder, from there down across Waterloo Bridge, and thence back through Southwark to London Bridge station. I have no idea how far that was, but it felt like quite along way with a large rucksack...
The evening was then spent eating epic curry with tinselworm and watching most of the first series of Black Books. On Friday after brekkie in the cafe we ventured off to London Zoo (or ZFL as it appears to be called, what?). We spent about five hours there, a full four of which were walking. I may have eaten a lot of crap this weekend, but fuck me I've walked it off again.
We did stop for very nice burgers and chips which amazingly didn't require a second mortgage, and much-needed reviving tea.
After all that we were much too broken to do anything other than lie about eating pizza and watching the rest of Black Books, but it was an amazing day out.
Saturday I went off to meet astrolabus in Southwark, and we went to a very nice cafe under the Shard where I had a salami and brie pannini melt for breakfast. Because yum.
We attempted to go to the Shard at this point, but the information on display outside is immensely confusing and unhelpful and we concluded that all slots were sold out, and we'd be best off booking online for the following day. So we went to The Old Operating Theatre instead.
Fascinating place, with many alarming looking implements and tinctures on display.
By this time it was clearly necessary to go to the pub, so we went to Ye Olde Cock Tavern on Fleet Street, mostly (ok, entirely) because it was called the Cock, but it turned out to be very nice, with big leather chairs and good beer.
From there we went to Forbidden Planet, where I picked up signed copies of Neil Gaiman's The Ocean At The End of the Lane and Frances Hardinge's A Face Like Glass. (I have never yet been to London and not bought/borrowed an inadvisable number of books, given the amount of walking that takes place).
Museum Taven next, it having been at least an hour without a pub, and very nice (if not entirely hot) sausages and mash. Then stopped off in Kilburn at The North London Tavern on the way home, which had possibly the ponciest bar menu I have ever seen.
Sunday began with bacon sandwiches and watching Ben Fogle annoy the crap out of Hugh Dennis whilst driving across Peru. Seriously, Hugh Dennis appears to be the world's most patient man. Although I suppose he did get to practise on Oz Clarke.
Having ventured out, we finally accomplished The Shard, discovering that despite (a) not being able to book online after all and (b) the vague and discouraging lady on the door, that there were in fact loads of slots available and we could in fact just go right up.
It was a staggering view, and entirely worth the eye-watering £30 entrance fee. They reckon you could see forty miles, and you could certainly pick out Wembley Stadium and Crystal Palace as well as all the closer landmarks.
Looking *up*...
And *down*...
astrolabus discovering his new evil lair...
After this we'd developed a taste for worrying heights, so went on the cable car from Greenwich to the Docklands. (Having first discovered that Greenwich tube is a bastard long way from Greenwich proper and therefore too far to walk for lunch. We had an ice cream instead.)
We made our way back through London in search of somewhere doing a decent Sunday lunch, failing dismally. Having been promised a decent pub in Hampstead, I was then forced to walk miles (MILES I tell you) to a pub that turned out to be about a minute from Kilburn tube station and across the road from the pub we'd been in the night before. Not that I'm bitter. Or hold a grudge. Anyway, The Black Lion was indeed a very nice pub (despite not having any draft beer, wtf?), and we had roast beef with all the trimmings and all was well.
And in the absence of beer we ordered a bottle of wine. And then a second. And then a third. And then some gin and tonics. I think you can see where this is going. Two days later and I'm still a little fragile...
Arrived on Thursday afternoon, and having a few hours to kill rashly decided to walk from Kings Cross to Russell Square, then after passing a couple of hours in The Queen's Larder, from there down across Waterloo Bridge, and thence back through Southwark to London Bridge station. I have no idea how far that was, but it felt like quite along way with a large rucksack...
The evening was then spent eating epic curry with tinselworm and watching most of the first series of Black Books. On Friday after brekkie in the cafe we ventured off to London Zoo (or ZFL as it appears to be called, what?). We spent about five hours there, a full four of which were walking. I may have eaten a lot of crap this weekend, but fuck me I've walked it off again.
We did stop for very nice burgers and chips which amazingly didn't require a second mortgage, and much-needed reviving tea.
After all that we were much too broken to do anything other than lie about eating pizza and watching the rest of Black Books, but it was an amazing day out.
Saturday I went off to meet astrolabus in Southwark, and we went to a very nice cafe under the Shard where I had a salami and brie pannini melt for breakfast. Because yum.
We attempted to go to the Shard at this point, but the information on display outside is immensely confusing and unhelpful and we concluded that all slots were sold out, and we'd be best off booking online for the following day. So we went to The Old Operating Theatre instead.
Fascinating place, with many alarming looking implements and tinctures on display.
By this time it was clearly necessary to go to the pub, so we went to Ye Olde Cock Tavern on Fleet Street, mostly (ok, entirely) because it was called the Cock, but it turned out to be very nice, with big leather chairs and good beer.
From there we went to Forbidden Planet, where I picked up signed copies of Neil Gaiman's The Ocean At The End of the Lane and Frances Hardinge's A Face Like Glass. (I have never yet been to London and not bought/borrowed an inadvisable number of books, given the amount of walking that takes place).
Museum Taven next, it having been at least an hour without a pub, and very nice (if not entirely hot) sausages and mash. Then stopped off in Kilburn at The North London Tavern on the way home, which had possibly the ponciest bar menu I have ever seen.
Sunday began with bacon sandwiches and watching Ben Fogle annoy the crap out of Hugh Dennis whilst driving across Peru. Seriously, Hugh Dennis appears to be the world's most patient man. Although I suppose he did get to practise on Oz Clarke.
Having ventured out, we finally accomplished The Shard, discovering that despite (a) not being able to book online after all and (b) the vague and discouraging lady on the door, that there were in fact loads of slots available and we could in fact just go right up.
It was a staggering view, and entirely worth the eye-watering £30 entrance fee. They reckon you could see forty miles, and you could certainly pick out Wembley Stadium and Crystal Palace as well as all the closer landmarks.
Looking *up*...
And *down*...
astrolabus discovering his new evil lair...
After this we'd developed a taste for worrying heights, so went on the cable car from Greenwich to the Docklands. (Having first discovered that Greenwich tube is a bastard long way from Greenwich proper and therefore too far to walk for lunch. We had an ice cream instead.)
We made our way back through London in search of somewhere doing a decent Sunday lunch, failing dismally. Having been promised a decent pub in Hampstead, I was then forced to walk miles (MILES I tell you) to a pub that turned out to be about a minute from Kilburn tube station and across the road from the pub we'd been in the night before. Not that I'm bitter. Or hold a grudge. Anyway, The Black Lion was indeed a very nice pub (despite not having any draft beer, wtf?), and we had roast beef with all the trimmings and all was well.
And in the absence of beer we ordered a bottle of wine. And then a second. And then a third. And then some gin and tonics. I think you can see where this is going. Two days later and I'm still a little fragile...