Sydney/Bangkok/London/Dublin/Ireland/Dublin/New York/San Francisco/Sydney
21 August 2006 to 15 September 2006 – Mileage 25,418
Bangkok/London – The second leg
24/8/06 to 27/8/06
Thai Airlines – departed Bangkok 1.10 am 24/8/06
The transfer driver, who drove us from the Amari Hotel in Bangkok to the airport, was supposed to show us where to go to check in our luggage once we arrived at the airport, but he dumped us out of his car in the middle of the road and drove off. He didn’t even take his voucher so maybe he won’t be paid either. We went inside the airport and didn’t have a clue where to go. On searching the boards with flight details and check-in gate numbers, we couldn’t find our flight listed. There are no seats either inside the airport or outside so we spent 1.5 hours standing, waiting for our flight details to appear on the board. Our flight was due to leave at 1.10 am and we were dropped off at 10.30 pm. We were not happy travellers at all.
Before I left Australia when I did a bit of research on Bangkok, I read about a 500 baht departure tax. I was sure that we wouldn’t have to pay this, as all our taxes were supposedly included in the cost of our tickets. However, when we arrived at the airport, after checking in our luggage and getting our boarding passes, we were told in a tone that gave us no room to argue at Customs, that we would not be allowed leave without paying the 500 baht in cash. So, off we went to exchange a traveller’s cheque, as I didn’t have any baht left. I exchanged the rest of the cheque for sterling for London. We were rushing because we were now running out of time. After paying over our 500 baht our passports were stamped, and the next check was with uniformed police who frisked us and scanned us before we could pass.
On reaching the departure lounge, after a long walk, we found a room full of people and joined another line. This time we were frisked again and scanned and our bags were emptied out and searched. I had a small box of matches in my bag as you can’t carry lighters, and they were confiscated. We found seats and waited for the go ahead to board. The plane was again huge, and I made a promise to myself once I was seated, that I would never fly international again unless I could afford to fly business class. I had a window seat this time and knew that for 12 hours I would be confined to quarters, something I wasn’t too pleased about. I knew cuz would go to sleep and so would the other person no doubt, which left me with a problem re getting out of the seat to move around and visit the lavatory, as they are so quaintly called.
As the plane cruised across the tarmac in readiness for takeoff, the hostesses walked around with cans of spray to fumigate the plane interior and us. Just goes to show what happens when you go to Bangkok and what is assumed you may have brought on board on your shoes or your clothing and bags. I felt a bit like an animal being sprayed for lice or fly.
Once in the air the menus came around, but no hot towels! Considering the fact that they sprayed us, one would have assumed hot towels would be offered for cleaning our hands and faces with. We were given a drink each. We had a choice of a chicken meal or a fish meal and cuz and I both opted for chicken. By the time they got to us there was no chicken left. I accepted the fish as it had veges with it and at least I could eat them. Cuz put on a tantrum and slammed her tray back up probably scaring the heck out of the person sitting in that seat. She ended up being offered a cheese platter, which she grudgingly accepted. I was totally embarrassed by her actions and slunk down in my chair. The fish was gross and I didn’t eat it.
Most people went to sleep, but I sat there and split my time between watching the lights below (we flew low during the night) and cat napping when I could. I didn’t watch the movies, as my headset was a problem. After persevering with it for a while I gave up. On arrival at Heathrow airport, we were told we had to circle the airport for about 40 minutes due to traffic. The airport was shrouded in fog and I wasn’t too happy circling around up there in the fog, especially when I could see other planes out the window doing the same. Once again I was eternally grateful when we landed. The flight services from Bangkok to London, with Thai Airlines, were much different than the flight to Bangkok from Sydney. A marked difference. We landed at Heathrow at 7.15 am on Thursday 24 August 2006, after leaving Bangkok at 1.10 am the same day. The flight was just over 11 hours.
Following the planeload of people, we headed for Customs at Heathrow, and the sight was a daunting one of a continual row of people winding round and round to the Customs desks. We joined the queue, right at the very end, and sighed. Approximately one hour later we were through Customs with a new stamp in our Passports and headed for the bag carousel. Another daunting sight, another long sigh and wait. Our bags never came out together.
Dragging our luggage behind us and carrying our onboard luggage, we found our way to the Arrivals area and where we were supposed to be met by our transfer company. Again we were confronted by people on both sides of the area holding up boards with names. We couldn’t see our names on the walk-through. I returned once we found a place to stand, leaving my bags with cuz, and walked slowly past the long rows of board holders. No sign of our names. In despair I went to the Airport help desk and was directed to the counter across the way where people using the transfer company we were booked with gathered. The delay in landing, delay in Customs and in collecting our luggage had of course made us much later in our arrival at the designated meeting place. I handed in our coupon at the desk and we headed outside for a smoke. The bus we were to be transferred in arrived at approximately 10.00 am.
London reminded me of Australia for some reason, and there were no smells, unlike Bangkok. I figured that any country almost would have scored high with me after Bangkok. We drove into London and I observed the buildings and roadways as we covered the miles. Most of the homes appeared to be similar to terrace houses, joined together in groups along streets, with chimneys. As the bus stopped to drop people off at their various stops, I was interested to see the kind of buildings people lived in on the outskirts of London. No houses like we have on the outskirts of Sydney; they all had that terraced look and were very close together. No side access or garages or carports. Pillars and bay windows and ornate edging seemed to be the go on most houses I saw, but no wrought iron lace. Lots of bricks, and chimneys and well-looked after buildings.
The bus came to a stop in front of the Kensington Thistle Hotel and I looked around wondering how far we were from anywhere. It was on a corner and looked like a Government building in Sydney, the old style of building, with wooden windows. We dragged our bags up the staircase into the foyer. In Bangkok there were porters to take care of the luggage, so our arrival at the hotel in London was a big disappointment.
The foyer of the hotel was old looking, certainly no opulence like at the Amari. Little did we know, this was the best part of the building as behind the doors and up the lifts, the décor was old and knocked around. After booking in and being given our keys (cards) to a room on the 3rd floor, we made our way to the lift. Once out of the lift we found a rabbit warren of a place where we had to drag our bags up and down stairs, through heavy fire doors, over and over, until finally we went through the last fire door and were in the hallway outside our room. What confronted us, after an 11-hour flight, all those hours waiting at Bangkok Airport, and 3 hours at Heathrow, then the drive to Kensington from Heathrow, was depressing to say the least.
Two workers were in the hallway, and it was heavy with dust floating around in the air. One man was sweeping up the mess off the concrete in the hallway where the carpet had been torn up and the skirting boards. The man sweeping helped us open the door to our room, and when we walked in we were totally dismayed at the sight. The room was tiny with two beds almost together. There was one small wooden window that we had trouble opening. No air conditioning. A desk like cupboard stood against the wall at the foot of the beds with a TV set and a stand with coffee/tea making bits and pieces on it. The bathroom was like an ensuite in a B&B. To use the loo you had to sit sideways as the towel rack went down the side of the loo. Our mouths were full of dust and we anguished about having to spend 3 nights in this room. Cuz walked out saying she couldn’t stay there, as she couldn’t breathe. She had left Sydney with the remains of a bad cold and already had a cough I sure hoped I didn’t pick up. She left me standing there amongst the mess, with all the bags.
I grabbed my money belt and cigarettes, locked the door on the way out, and made my way downstairs to reception. I’m lucky I found my way there as I have a terrible sense of direction that I can’t ever seem to correct. After explaining to the lady what we found, she responded by telling me that she didn’t know work was being carried out in that area; the room had just come up on the computer as being vacant. One would have assumed when making holiday bookings many months in advance that rooms would be allocated to people at the time of payment. So much for even bothering to book accommodation and paying in advance! I was given cards to a different room to go and look at, so outside to find cuz, and up we went. The room was on the same floor and the dusty air was evident there as well.
Back downstairs to reception where this time I made it quite clear that we would not accept either room, and asked that we be transferred to another hotel. I still can’t believe that this happened, and yet it did. There is no way that any worker in Australia would accept working in a dust-filled area like the one we found without breathing masks, and we were expected to sleep in that same atmosphere. I sat on the sofa in reception and waited while the receptionist did whatever it was she was doing. Two other people came to the counter whilst I was sitting there, both complaining about their rooms. I heard the receptionist tell the other person behind the counter that one man had walked out. After a short wait I was called back to the desk and advised that the manager had agreed for us to be upgraded to a junior suite and this time the concierge was called over to move our bags for us. Once more armed with new cards, we travelled in the lift to the assigned room, still in a rabbit warren place. The concierge was behind us with the bags. On opening the door we found a huge room compared to the other two, with a lounge, table and chairs, two beds that you could walk between, and a large bathroom. Best of all, the window was expansive, and looked out over Kensington Palace grounds. I sighed in relief, and cuz was happy. Strange how she managed to make me feel like it was my fault, and I guess I thought it was too as I had made all the arrangements for our trip.
Where I would have been happy with a shower and a sleep, after being awake for about 32 hours, cuz insisted we go for a walk. We decided to go to Kensington Palace, so crossed over the road and walked into the grounds. We walked around the park, passed the Palace, and made our way to Diana’s Memorial Fountain. It’s a strange ‘fountain’ as it is a circle of water that in various places flows down steps. We sat there for a while and I was happy to do so as my legs were extremely sore and I was finding walking was becoming more and more difficult with each step. It had taken us quite a while to find the fountain as all the signs sent us in the wrong direction. We eventually found a map and worked out that we had to cross a road and go into another section of the park to find the fountain.
Cuz wanted to walk to Buckingham Palace from there, but after wandering around for another ½ hour or so and going nowhere but in circles, I said that I would have to go back to the hotel, as my legs were a mess. I was told that if I intended to see much of London I would have to do a lot of walking. My reply was that I could only do as much as I could. After 3 days rushing around Bangkok, injuring my leg in the speedboat, and all that sitting in planes cramped up for hours, my arthritis was paying me back big-time.
By the time we arrived back at the hotel my legs were stiffening up badly. Out came the dencorub, then a hot bath and bed. I slept from 3pm to 8.30pm and on getting out of bed I found I wasn’t in pain anymore, but still stiff. I downed 3 Panadol, and watched TV for a while before doing some writing while cuz slept on the lounge. At 9.45 pm she awoke and I rang for room service. I had steak and salad and cuz had chips, which she left more of than she ate. She amazed me as she lived mostly on Coca Cola. Food was a must for me as we hadn’t eaten since 5.00 am that day on the plane, with the exception of an ice cream in the park. The steak dinner cost 17.40 pounds and the chips 2.50 pounds, around $40AU. The US dollars that I had were worth 50 pence each and AU dollars less.
After dinner we went downstairs to the lobby and I used the Internet on a computer set up on a desk. It cost me 9.00 pound for 1 hour! Cuz used it to send an email and I sent emails to my partner, my son and daughter, and one to my boss. There was no way I could chat to my partner as the computer didn’t have any programs loaded, and I couldn’t access BigPond chat, due to the fact that the computer wouldn’t allow me to download Java. The concierge knew nothing about the computer as it belonged to a company who obviously was making quite a bit of money out of users. Just before we left London we found an Internet Café close by and I think, from memory, it was about 2.00 pound an hour – huge difference. The problem was the café only stayed open until around 8 pm, and was no good to use to try and chat to my partner back in Sydney.
Cuz disappeared after sending her email, and when I checked outside the hotel she wasn’t there, so I made my way back to our room; she was in bed asleep. Sitting at the desk writing notes about the trip, the time slipped by and it was 1.40 am Friday. The night was coolish but jeans and a T-shirt were enough to keep warm. The lock was gone from my checked in bag when I got to the hotel, so I wasn’t sure if it had been cut off, or had broken off. Inside the bag was a bit of a mess with clothes moved around, so I assumed it had probably been searched. I made a mental note, as I searched for my night gear, to buy new locks if I could that were US approved.
Friday morning, after breakfast in the hotel, we walked down to Kensington looking for a bureau of exchange or somewhere to cash in some traveller’s cheques. We didn’t come upon any that were open, so went to the underground railway and bought tickets to Piccadilly Station. The cost was 6.00 pound for a one-way ticket to Piccadilly. The train was strange, like a tunnel or a tube, with seats down each side, and none in the middle section. This is where most people had to stand, hanging onto rails from the roof, or onto the bars from the floor to the roof. After one stop we had to change trains. It was mind boggling to me how far underground the tracks were. Two huge, steep, escalators went down to the platform and the feeling that you could just fall off into space was strong. Signs advised users to stand to the right and hold the handrail. Going back up made you feel as though you were going to fall backwards off the escalator. Once off the escalators there were a couple of staircases or a lift to street level. Alighting at Piccadilly Station, we made our way to the street and walked to the statue in the centre of the road at Piccadilly Square, and sat on the steps.
I still needed some sterling so visited a bank across the road from where we had been sitting and had taken photos. Advice from there was to go down the road to the American Express office where I could cash the cheques without paying a charge. Down the road? We walked down the road and scanned both sides of the road, but no American Express office. I spied a Tourist office and there was a Bureau of Exchange desk inside. I walked out with some sterling, feeling happier. For $300US I received 148.10 pounds, just less than half, and there were no charges for the exchange.
Walking back towards Piccadilly Square, we found a bus stop for a red double-decker hop on hop off tour bus, 18 pounds for 24 hours each. The bus drove around the streets of London with a guide using a PA system telling us about the important buildings and their history, pointing out the parks, statues etc. I snapped photos whenever I could as the bus slowed enough, hoping they would turn out okay. I’m pleased to say they all did and my digital camera, that I usually curse, did a wonderful job even when I was in a moving vehicle. I purchased a much larger memory card before I left home and it told me I had over 550 photos that I could take.
Alighting at Buckingham Palace, we walked down the road to the front of the Palace and took photos. So many people were lined up to go inside that we decided to pass up that opportunity. After all our experiences of lines in the few days we had been away, lining up again behind hundreds of people wasn’t much of an option. The Queen was on summer vacation so the Palace was open to the public.
Back on another bus and this time we travelled to Westminster Abbey where we alighted. It was a lovely day, about 22 degrees with a nice breeze and plenty of sun. I decided to go inside the Abbey, as it was somewhere I really was interested in having spending some time looking around. As I am 60, I managed to get in for 6 pound, which was a saving of 4 pound. My cuz wasn’t interested in going in, so she stayed outside. There were a lot of people inside, but it wasn’t crowded as it is a huge place. I spent probably an hour wandering around and purchased a few key rings and a leather bookmark for my son. The Abbey holds a lot of crypts and I think the oldest one I saw was 800 years. It’s a wonderful place to go, grand but not opulent like the temples in Bangkok. I didn’t want to spend too much time there as cuz was waiting outside and the crypts really didn’t interest me. Just to have been inside that wonderful building was enough.
We passed by the site of the Tyburn Tree that was the gallows where prisoners were hanged. A round whitish cement section on the road marks the spot where the gallows stood. Hundreds of people would gather around to witness the hangings. We were told some interesting facts about some sayings I’ve heard for as long as I can remember. They all began around this era of London’s history.
“One for the road” – the last drinks for accused before a hanging
“On the wagon” – refusal by hangmen, drivers, and guards, to drink before an execution
“Hangover” – after the hanging, festivity headaches
London was proving to be a nice place to visit. Lots of tourists everywhere we went, but nothing like the rush and bustle of Bangkok. Traffic was minimal in comparison as well. Lots of tourist buses on the roads, all dropping off people at the same places or just driving them around in the sun. And there was no honking of horns!
Our attention was directed to the places where celebrities like Elton John, Prince Charles and Lady Camilla live and we also saw where Margaret Thatcher lives. We were told that a guard stood outside her home 24 hours a day, and one was there. What a boring job and a waste of money!
Another short bus trip to the Thames, where we alighted near the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben, as we fondly refer to the huge clock. Big Ben isn’t the name of the tower at all; it’s called St Stephen’s tower, and the clock itself was named Big Ben after Sir Benjamin Hall. Or that’s the story we were told when we sailed near it on a River Thames cruise. The cruise was included in the price of the hop on hop off bus ticket. We sat upstairs on the open deck of the boat and sailed up the Thames, under numerous bridges that all had a history, with one of the crew doing the spruiking.
We left the boat at the Tower of London, and I realised that what I had thought for as long as I can remember about the Tower of London, is incorrect. The Tower of London is not on the bridge; it’s along the shoreline before the bridge. Around the tower buildings is a grass area that resembles a moat that no longer holds water, and I assume, not knowing the history of the tower very well, that the area was once a moat. We walked past the Tower of London buildings to the Tower of London Bridge along a cobbled roadway that is a walkway. I bought water along the way; 1.60 pound a bottle, and a bottle of juice 1.95 pound.
I’m a bit slow with walking, always have been. I have long legs and take long, slow strides. I thought I was doing pretty well that trip out as we had respites on buses. Cuz walked ahead of me, as always, boring along not stopping to smell the roses as I did. She would sometimes stop and face me and say, “Are you slowing down?” which annoyed the heck out of me. I used to think she was like the Gestapo, and here I was on this holiday that was a dream for so long; all I wanted to do was soak up the atmosphere and take my time doing that. Dying for a loo stop, and yet not having the opportunity because if I did she would disappear, I had another thought; perhaps she was a water truck, although she drank Coke only, so guess it converted to sugar or something and disappeared. Hence the fact that she rarely went looking for a loo, even if we were out and about for 11 hours in a day/night.
Up the steps onto the bridge, more photos, a look around, and back down. This time I found a loo and called out to cuz that I was heading there. I found this doorway with a money thingo on the wall where I inserted the coin expecting to open the door to the loo. Nothing happened. I stood there looking, wanting to get in there fast. A lady came up behind me and told me to forget putting money in there, as there were free loos inside the building to my right. Oh, oh, an Aussie goose in London! Cuz meanwhile, sat on a wall and waited. I decided, on making my way back out from the loo, that I would buy some memorabilia, and into the tourist shop I went. I suppose I was gone about ½ hour, and it was an enjoyable time, and a relief. My purchases were special for special people at home, and I was pleased with myself.
We decided that as it was getting late we best make our way back to the hotel, as most tourist places would be closing for the day. I was tired and hungry, having only eaten an ice cream since breakfast. Ice creams were around the 3.50 pound mark each for a single cone.
Cuz had wanted a ride on the Eye, but after having seen it from the shore when we boarded the boat, I decided no way was I going on it. It’s so huge, like the biggest ferris wheel imaginable, and whilst it appears to be very well anchored into the ground, I have a thing about heights and knew it wasn’t a place that I should venture. I don’t think I scored bonus points by refusing to go on it. We got off the bus on the other side of the Thames to the Eye and walked down towards the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben, and crossed over the bridge. I thought we were going back to the hotel, but found out that cuz had other ideas. She didn’t tell me, I just followed, dutifully.
I waited outside the building where those that wanted to go on the Eye bought tickets, and stood there for over 2 hours waiting for her to come back out. I kept watching the line of people waiting to go for a ride and couldn’t spot her in the distance, and also stood near where they alighted from the beast. All I could figure out was that she had come down the steps and I missed her. I had decided that I wouldn’t wait much longer, and would take off and find a taxi back to the hotel as the reason why she had disappeared was beyond me. Eventually she emerged from the Eye. Apparently, once you buy a ticket you go out the back door of the building, not out the front. She knew I was waiting but just went and got into the line and left me there. Ah well, you can pick your friends but you can’t pick your relatives. I didn’t say anything but I thought a lot. I was beginning to realise that whilst I had paid half for this holiday, that’s about all the sharing we were going to do. A bitter and disappointing pill for me to swallow as my whole reason for going with someone had nothing at all to do with twin sharing; it had everything to do with sharing the experience of all these things I had never seen before in my life, except in books or films.
We walked up to the road and caught another bus, knowing that the hop on hop off buses go to Kensington Palace. Unfortunately it was too late to get a ride on the bus to Kensington, so we had to get off at the last stop before the bus went back around where we had already been. Walking towards Trafalgar Square, we finally saw a sign to Charing Cross Station, and caught the train back to High Street, Kensington. The train was crammed with people going home, and after 1 stop we had to change trains. The second train was even worse with people squashed in, and we had to stand all the way. It was only 7 stops but I wasn’t happy being that far underground in London on an overcrowded thing shaped like a tube. Back at Kensington and a walk to the hotel. Once again cuz turned and told me how slow I was, so I told her to go ahead as I knew where the hotel was. She stopped off at a shop and I waited for her to buy more Coke. Off she charged again once she came out of the shop, leaving me behind. Back in the room at the hotel I downed 2 glasses of water and took off my shoes and socks, feeling relieved I could sit down.
Next question was, what to do for dinner? It was late for the 2 for 1 at the hotel restaurant and I decided to order something from room service. Cuz didn’t want room service she wanted pizza and went out to a pizza place she saw up the road somewhere. My dinner arrived and I ate it before she arrived back. Dinner was too much for me and I left half on the plate. We watched a bit of TV and actually talked for a few minutes before cuz had a shower and went to bed. There were never any ‘goodnights’ from her; she just went to bed.
As there was no point in me trying to go to bed right after dinner, I tried to ring Bryan in Sydney. Before I left home I organised with Optus for auto roam on my mobile but it hadn’t worked since I left home. I asked Bryan in the email I sent if he could ring them and find out what was wrong. I had a pin number and the details of my phone call with Optus, and I had left these with him before I flew out. The phone worked! I was so happy to talk to him and now I could sms him from London and hopefully, the rest of the world that I was visiting. He told me that when he phoned Optus he was told that auto roam had never been set. One wonders about the customer service of providers.
I sent messages to my family after we hung up and my daughter replied, as did Bryan, and I knew all was well with the phone. One hitch; somehow in my packing I had forgotten to pack my charger for the phone. Fortunately cuz had hers with her, even though she didn’t intend to use her mobile phone overseas. I asked if I could borrow it for the trip and she kindly loaned it to me.
Note: I just received my mobile phone bill for $215 for the month so the sms messages cost a fair bit. Then again, because of my loneliness, I sent quite a bundle of them over the days from London to home. I missed my family, and Bryan, and my beautiful dog Shaye and my moggie, Jasmine. Strange how you can be with someone almost 24 hours a day for 26 days and yet feel so alone. I missed my computer too as I could have spent time writing and doing jigsaws (something I love) and playing games that are good (I think) for my failing eyesight. The mobile phone contact filled a void and made me feel more settled, and less alone.
Saturday arrived and I suggested to cuz that she go off on her own for the day as I needed some respite from walking. I explained again my predicament, and she said she understood, but sometimes I wondered about that. She went off without breakfast, and because the hotel was by this time full of people (weekend), it took me a few tries before I could get into the restaurant for breakfast – 2 hours in fact. People were complaining, as I was, about having to wait so long to get a table and about having to line up for about ½ hour to actually get a plate of food. I’ve never seen anything like it before, and didn’t for the rest of the trip.
It rained on Friday night, with more predicted for the weekend. The temperature was around 21 degrees and it was nice. Cuz arrived back late arvo after having a good day out on her own, and I was happy having stayed at the hotel resting up. I had the concierge check our flights on Sunday to Dublin, and all was well. I also checked with the transport company that our pick-up was organised and what time it would be arriving the next day. On leaving the concierge, I reached the 5th floor going back to the room and the doors wouldn’t open. I started to panic but eventually it went back down to the ground floor and I hurriedly departed. I found a service lift and used that. A hotel packed with people, and a lift that wouldn’t work properly. Another black mark I put against the hotel. Then our cards wouldn’t work in our door so I had to go and fix that problem. It seemed like I was the executive assistant on this trip and all problems had to be sorted out by me. Oh I forgot … I made all the arrangements so of course it was my job to fix any problems!
I organised room service for breakfast on Sunday morning, as we didn’t have time to hang around waiting for a table. We were in the lobby of the hotel by 9.15 am and the bus arrived at 9.45. I checked out of the hotel and the extra charges were put onto my credit card. We checked our bags in at Heathrow, went through the checkpoints, and found a smoking lounge. Boarding time was supposed to be 1.00 pm, so we had 2 hours to fill in. I bought Bryan a UK paper, as he was born in Manchester, and hoped he would like it. Cuz and I sat there with no interaction between us. Again I wondered what on earth had gone wrong that things were like they were between us. The plane was late and we didn’t fly out until 2.00 pm. It was a short flight and I watched as the plane dipped its wings as we flew over the coastline of Ireland heading for Dublin. I had a lump in my throat and tears welled in my eyes as I looked across the seats and out the window at the country I had so longed to visit.
I enjoyed visiting London and wouldn’t mind going back one day to see some of the English countryside away from the city. It was a nice place to go, and I’m glad I decided to visit even though I tossed the decision around for a while. I wrote to my travel agent when I returned to Sydney and advised him not to send people to The Thistle Kensington Palace as it is too far from the city for anyone only staying in London for a few days. It is also not a high star hotel, in spite of its rating in the travel brochures.
Vena McGrath
September 2006
