6 April 2007
Good Friday. Virginia's memories of Easter Weekends when she was a youngster was that everything - and she means everything - closed down from Thursday evening until at least the Tuesday morning. No longer the case in multi-cultural London. Good Friday was very much a normal day although stores may have opened an hour later than usual and the post office was closed. Of course, Australia was very much the same way in the late '60s and early '70s when we first arrived there. And now, Australia, like England, seems to have made Good Friday almost another working day.
Absolute trivia, but then that's what makes up so much of one's life whether at home or travelling. There was a huge foulup getting our laundry as someone about to embark on a "long haul" flight thought they had priority on using the dryers and removed everyone's wet clothes into a great mixed and confused pile. We now have a facinating multi-cultural pile of very colourful knickers and someone, somewhere has Grandma's Bonds cotton tails.
In the afternoon, clutching our Underground passes, we headed off to Westminster. Because it was Good Friday, the Abbey was closed to tourists but much to our delight, Westminster School was open - or at least the grounds and some of the cloisters were. We toured around Parliament Square, St Margaret's and took in the atmosphere. We walked up to Downing Street and were astonished at the level of security here and in front of Parliament House. Huge concrete barriers are in place and we were certain that it was no coincidence that helicopters seemed constantly to be circling the area. Of course, security may have been heightened because of the Iranian hostage situation, but there was a sense of permanence about the security measures which seemed to belie this.
We chose to go back to our "digs" by bus and certainly one sees far more this way. Unfortunately, due to an accident on the Bayswater Road, our bus we re-routed and the trip took about twice as long as we had anticipated and instead of going almost past our door we were left with about a mile to walk. Oddly enough that very morning we had walked the same route; up to Notting Hill Gate. The accident seemed to be a very badly burnt out car but considering its location, directly in front of Embassy Row, and considering the extreme damage to the car, we couldn't help but wonder if it may not have been something more sinister than just a simple car fire.
All around here Dianamania seems to be the norm. And, it is likely to get worse still as the tenth anniversary of her death approaches.
Good Friday. Virginia's memories of Easter Weekends when she was a youngster was that everything - and she means everything - closed down from Thursday evening until at least the Tuesday morning. No longer the case in multi-cultural London. Good Friday was very much a normal day although stores may have opened an hour later than usual and the post office was closed. Of course, Australia was very much the same way in the late '60s and early '70s when we first arrived there. And now, Australia, like England, seems to have made Good Friday almost another working day.
Absolute trivia, but then that's what makes up so much of one's life whether at home or travelling. There was a huge foulup getting our laundry as someone about to embark on a "long haul" flight thought they had priority on using the dryers and removed everyone's wet clothes into a great mixed and confused pile. We now have a facinating multi-cultural pile of very colourful knickers and someone, somewhere has Grandma's Bonds cotton tails.
In the afternoon, clutching our Underground passes, we headed off to Westminster. Because it was Good Friday, the Abbey was closed to tourists but much to our delight, Westminster School was open - or at least the grounds and some of the cloisters were. We toured around Parliament Square, St Margaret's and took in the atmosphere. We walked up to Downing Street and were astonished at the level of security here and in front of Parliament House. Huge concrete barriers are in place and we were certain that it was no coincidence that helicopters seemed constantly to be circling the area. Of course, security may have been heightened because of the Iranian hostage situation, but there was a sense of permanence about the security measures which seemed to belie this.
We chose to go back to our "digs" by bus and certainly one sees far more this way. Unfortunately, due to an accident on the Bayswater Road, our bus we re-routed and the trip took about twice as long as we had anticipated and instead of going almost past our door we were left with about a mile to walk. Oddly enough that very morning we had walked the same route; up to Notting Hill Gate. The accident seemed to be a very badly burnt out car but considering its location, directly in front of Embassy Row, and considering the extreme damage to the car, we couldn't help but wonder if it may not have been something more sinister than just a simple car fire.All around here Dianamania seems to be the norm. And, it is likely to get worse still as the tenth anniversary of her death approaches.
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