This is only my third time visiting London, with sweeping changes between each visit. The first time, during the coal miners' strike, staying with Amy Crumpton in US military officers' family housing in a lovely suburb, stocked with US products like Capn Crunch and Crest toothpaste from the commissary.
Then I returned in 2001 and stayed with Maria in Islington, and was shocked that England had finally entered the modern era. All these years later, London is in the midst of another boom. Quee Lim lives is Bermondsey, an area that in 2001 was still beyond the tourist reaches of South Bank.
There are enough cranes to put Toronto to shame. London is a place that makes NYC feel like a small town. It is positively throbbing. You can feel layers of a thousand years of history on every block. And that's with the uncertainty of Brexit and terrible leadership.
I had one goal today, and it was in Greenwich, to the east on the Thames, close to London City Airport, where I flew in.
The skyline along the river is extremely eclectic. I got on the ferry by London Bridge. Next stop: the Tower of London. When I visited it in the 80s, I thought the complex was huge. Now it's dwarfed by all the high rises around it. Note the traitors' entrance.
The clipper ferry afforded a fine view of Tower Bridge.
Including passing under it. It's not the most efficient way to get to Greenwich, but I enjoyed the perspective from the water.
A buffet of architectural styles
The first thing you see in Greenwich is the Cutty Sark.
The next thing you see is a lot of people. The museums were packed. It was hot and muggy, and I decided to go in search of...the line.
Sir Walter Raleigh was no help.
Did I want the college or the Maritime Museum or the Royal Observatory?
A row of roses caught my eye, planted to commemorate the victims of the Titanic.
I climbed the hill to the top of the Royal Observatory where everyone was taking photos.
I did love all the clocks and sextants and official measures of feet and yards.
But here's the moment I was waiting for. I am standing with one foot on each side of the prime meridian, in the eastern and western hemispheres.
Blackheath was packed with locals, drinking, playing crickets, eating picnics. There's a music festival going on. I loved the giant trees.
The Royal Observatory is filled with odd tools that you calculate precise times based on location and precise location based on time and tides.
I never dreamed you could grow loquats in London.
Ultimately there were too many people and the entry price to the Observatory is steep. So I headed back down the hill in search of water.
This wonderful fountain is courtesy of Tiffany's.
In case you've always wanted a ship in a bottle...
The maritime museum was free. But I decided instead to visit the Queen's home. where Elizabeth I once lived.
I saw a photo of this tulip staircase and had to go see it in person.
The other treasure is this painting of Elizabeth I, painted in 1590, 13 years before her death.
A photo of her dad, Henry VIII, from Hans Holbein's workshop.
Most of the paintings inside the home are members of the royal family (Tudors and Stewarts) or lords. However this sculpture depicts
Olaudah Equiano, a freed slave who fought to abolish slavery. There are several modern pieces mixed in the exhibits. Not all of them are successful, but I was glad to see this hero.
I walked to the Greenwich train station and headed back to the Shard.
It wouldn't be a visit with Quee Lim without a lot of splendid dining. We stopped by Casse-Croute, a bistro across the street from his flat. Classic French cooking at its finest. I loved every bite of the duck with peas. The chocolate mousse was the best I've eaten since Jacques used to whip it up tableside in Paradise Island. A glass of Lillet made me think of my grandmother. Who needs madeleines when you have French food to help you remember?
I'm reconsidering my ambitious museum plans in favor of more time exploring this neighborhood and its many distilleries, tea shops, and cheese mongers. With some gorgeous architecture thrown in for good measure.
Standing on the prime meridian may be silly. But now I'm regretting not getting out of the car at the equator. It's just an imaginary line, and yet...