So you drive on the left, but walk on the...?
I'm sure everyone knows that in England, you drive on the left side of the road. But when you walk, do you keep to the left or the right? It's not as straightforward as you think. I was also having too many near-misses with cars on one-way streets - I always seemed to be looking in the wrong direction, but I couldn't figure out why. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
This morning was the complete opposite of yesterday. Bright sun, blue sky, and a cool but comfortable temperature. After hitting the local dry cleaners, we struck out for Borough Market on the south bank of the Thames. Unfortunately, I left my camera in the hotel room so I have no pictures to show you why it's rated as the top visitor attraction in London. Try a search on Google Images or look at the slideshow at the Project for Public Spaces.
If you like food and markets, then make a point to visit. It's like the Union Square Greenmarket, several times larger, denser, a broader offering of goods, and located under some very old looking, semi-industrial digs that lend a great atmosphere. In fact, I'm going to snag a pic from the market's web site (where you'll find more information about the vendors, history, etc).
It still pretty much looks like this, except in color, with more food and people, and fewer hats.
Situated just southwest of London Bridge (which is really nothing to look at), the Market is a wholesale operation during the week but is open to the public for select hours on Friday and Saturday. Not only can you buy staples for creating meals, you can buy prepared foods as well. We spent a good amount of time walking nibbling on a wedge of mature Chesire from Neal's Yard Creamery, some cured sausages (which the vendor cut up for us), and a pint of country cider from New Forest Cider. Unsweetened and unfiltered, you'll probably never find anything like this in the states. I didn't like it at first, but discovered it paired quite nice with the Chesire. Score!
Everything looked good, and I wanted to try everything. French cheeses, ostrich sandwiches, boar, tofu, pie... Mmm, pie. I walked by one vendor whose pies had been voted best in London. The pork and stilton was calling to me, but I had nothing to heat it in. What a loss - I settled for a pork pasty instead, also good with the country cider. Another vendor served up scallops cooked in the half shell, cooked whole with the roe and topped with some mung bean sprouts. Another vendor sold oysters on the half shell, harvested off the coast about 40-60 miles to the northeast. They're shucked right in front of you at 80 pence apiece. Skip the cocktail sauce and eat 'em straight. We finished off our market tour with a selection of handmade chocolates.
Using the rental cell phone to get tickets to the Reduced Shakespeare company was an adventure in itself. The phone's maximum volume was just soft enough, the ambient noise just loud enough, and the ticket agent was speaking just fast enough with just enough of a British accent to make most of the conversation incomprehensible. I discovered that the British love to say "yeah." Listen - you'll see what I mean. And by the way, you call a restaurant to make a "booking," not a reservation. But I digress.
Next, we made our way to Covent Garden by bus. The bus was a low-rider, and notable because some of the MTA busses in Brooklyn look nearly identical. The bus has a very low profile, sidewalk-level entry, and the seats in the back half of the bus are higher than those in the front half. The Brooklyn busses, however, do not have the backwards-facing seats as their London counterparts.
Covent Garden didn't really have a fair chance after the Market, so we didn't stay long. We headed back towards Regent Street to take care of some shopping errands. The pound is very strong against the dollar, so there was not a lot of buying. While waiting in a remote corner of Selfridges, I found a curious catalog from Red Letter Days, which lets you purchase a variety of unique experiences. I spent a lot of time looking at the driving pages.
As afternoon turned into early evening, we walked up Marylebone Lane in search of the Golden Hind, which was supposed to have good fish and chips. When we walked in I didn't realize it was a pub. The smoking was a bit of a downer, too. I asked the waitress for a menu, and then realized we were in the Golden Eagle, not the Golden Hind. We found the right Golden animal a few blocks north. I'm no fish and chips afficionado, but these seemed pretty good. The batter was very light and not oily. The chips were thick cut and almost bland, but a little salt fixed that. A side plate of pickled vegetables (tomatoes, cabbage, cucumbers, maybe a few more) provided a nice accent to the meal. You may want to read what these folks have to say about it.
The waitress was a bit sloppy and some people were dripped on, but we made it out unscathed and reached the Criterion Theater just minutes before The Complete Works of William Shakespeare started. The show was very enjoyable with some hysterical moments and a total-audience participation segment at the very end for "Ophelia's scream."
By now, I considered the 94 bus to be our personal limo to the Bayswater Shell petrol station and it's mini mart, which provided around-the-clock sundries such as bottled water, McVities digestives, and European Coke, made with sugar the way it used to be in the US before the corn syrup switcheroo (Interesting, I didn't know you could get Original Coke during Passover).
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