ARRIVING

That was a really bumpy flight! As we touched down, I said my usual prayer of thanks and vowed I was never getting back in a plane, especially not one as antique as that one looked! Arriving at Gatwick, there’s no real reminder that you are somewhere else at first. I think it looks a lot like the airport at Los Angeles. Then I tried to use the telephone and failed to figure it all out. It was at that point that I realized I just might have actually crossed the Atlantic. Gatwick, with its computerized people movers and straight-through customs area is a breeze to use. I only wish I didn’t have that horrible "travel head" or that I hadn’t packed quite as much.

The Gatwick Express moves along rapidly and after a few fields, the sprawl of London emerges. Were the streets ever this curved and narrow? Were the shops ever this toy-like? The drizzle of the morning emphasizes the dirt too, and Krish is complaining about the amount of graffiti along the railway tracks. We arrive at Victoria Station but where’s the entrance to the terminal?

It’s the middle of the rush hour at Victoria. The sheer number of people is staggering. We walk outside a bit soaking up the madness of London at this time of the morning. Finally we give up and get onto the underground. It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for all the memories to rush back. Yes, these are the lines we can take from here, that’s how you get from A to B, just follow the signs and don’t panic. London’s underground has lines, all colour coded.

We’ve bought a travel card so we won’t have to pay for each individual trip. It works out a whole lot cheaper, especially when as Krish points out the cost of one week is just about what we’d pay for a whole month in Toronto and to travel a whole lot further. Getting the travel card is another adventure. I find a "Photo-Me" booth and in I go. It takes me a while to figure out how to put the pound coins in until I discover the machine sort of grabs the money as soon as you put it on the "slot." A few minutes later, there's my strip of pictures. Naturally, I can't find one that doesn't show me travelworn and looking drunk. I choose the best and when it's placed in my newly bought travelcard case, the familiar red underground symbol is placed right over my lips. Oh great, I look like Betty Boop! Try as I might, I couldn't find a picture of Victoria Station to put on this page. The one here is of Waterloo Station.

To think this is only the beginning.