23 July 2011

SFO - LHR, 21-22 July 2011


Just Getting There is Half the Battle


It is a bittersweet day.  I'm excited about my travel to England, but my heart is in my throat about Anna leaving for Kansas.  Thus we have arranged for a last breakfast at the diner nearby (a favorite of hers).  The conversation, however, isn't a usual good-bye conversation, but rather the usual attempt to try and figure ourselves and our family out, including all the laughs and sighs that that usually involves.  She is also picking up some furniture that we have stored for her, and then she will head down to my sister Bonnie's to pick up Grandma Terrass' rocker.  How odd that it will travel back to a place about 24 miles from whence it originally came.  Anna drops me off, and there are tears - but that was to be expected.  I look back and she is gone.  What a wonderful decade of togetherness it has been.

I check in, and it's between flights in that section of the terminal, so security is a breeze.  What to do with the time?  Walk.  Iced Tea. Wait in the lounge, but not for long - they load the plane an hour in advance. I'm seated next to a very handsome African-American woman, a performer.  I watch as she memorizes lyrics and I'm fascinated.  The meal is mediocre, but what am I expecting?  I sleep on and off, and my window gazing is curtailed by a very bossy family in the center section who keep grousing about the light, and then keep everyone around them awake playing games with their daughter.  Misanthropy!

We are early into London, at least 45 minutes early.  There's a bit of a line at passport control, but soon I've picked up my luggage, purchased an express train ticket, and am on my way to Paddington Station.  Once there I swipe my Oyster card, and am delighted to find that I have 30p left on it.  I load it up with a few pounds, making my way on the Tube a little less troublesome.  I head for the Bakerloo line, and am soon at Waterloo with a bunch of time on my hands.  My train to Salisbury isn't until 12:20.  I have breakfast, but avoid the Black Pudding.  Then I realize I can check my luggage and walk around a bit.


I decide to walk over to the London Eye and see if I could do that, but the lines are overly long.  The Hungerford and Jubilee Bridges, however beacon, so I take a long walk.  In the midst of the Jubilee Bridge I realize that I could have quickly gotten over to Tate Britain and popped into their Victorian Rooms, but I wasn't thinking ahead, and now the time was too short.  The walk along the bridge, which is a stunning piece of engineering, and the sights along the Embankment, are food enough.  I do visit one Church, St. John's, built by an architect unknown to me, and badly damaged during the blitz.  It was rather cheaply restored in the 50s, but I take some time, enjoy the paintings and rest.

Soon it is time for Salisbury - I board the train, have some "crisps" and a ginger ale and rest.  The countryside is beautiful.  There has been a bit of rain, so everything is quite green.  Once in Salisbury, I lug my luggage to my hotel, and on the way I am running into choir members right and left: Patrick and Melissa, Susan, Martha and others.  My hotel, City Lodge, is modest, but quiet and clean.  That's all I need.  I take an hour's nap, shower, and head over to the cathedral.  I shall speak more about the cathedral tomorrow.  I walk with Martha Smith as we enter the close and then the cathedral.  There is an evening Eucharist honoring St. Mary Magdalene.  The choir sings a Byrd mass quite wonderfully, and there is a good sermon.  The vestments are magnificent.  Dinner after in the refectory with all of the choir - quite wonderful.  Finally home to bed - I am quite tired

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