Tate and the Thames

It was my last day in London.  I didn't think I had anything left to do, but it turns out that some final farewell activities had been arranged for us.  I had arranged a catch up with my friend Sarah in London so it would have to be an early morning breakfast.  I dragged myself out of bed and headed towards the Tube.  The depth of the London Tube stations is always impressive.  Heading down the escalator on this early Saturday morning, it was close to empty.  As I slowly walked down the escalator, I could hear my steps echoing in the tunnel.

Sarah had made a booking for us at Millie's Lounge at the Ned.  Being right next to Bank station, this was apparently a restaurant commonly frequented by the banking and finance staff in the area.  I walked into the large Ned hotel and made may way over to Millie's Lounge.  Sitting inside the grand foyer, it was an impressive place to be having a quick and simple lunch with friends.  It had been years since I had seen Sarah, I think the last time may have been when I stayed with her in Bondi.  This was a long way from her apartment overlooking the water.  The prices were high, but understandable given the location.  Looking at the menu, we were all suddenly overcome by a strange desire for some simpler and more comforting foods.  Eggs and soldiers were ordered, and I decided to go with the porridge.  With the cooler weather, it all seemed to make sense.

I wanted to stay longer, but I needed to go to the work event.  Sarah and Tom were kind enough to walk me over.  Once we got to the Millennium Walk bridge, we said our goodbyes and they went on their way.  I started my walk over.  It was raining a little bit, and the bridge became slippery.  I was late, but found myself trying to rush whilst not falling on this bridge.  I remembered the first time I crossed this bridge when I first visited the UK.  The bridge seemed to then represent everything amazing about the UK and its ability to integrate the new with the old.  Now, it just seemed to be a public hazard.

I arrived at the Tate Modern a bit late.  Everyone was already inside.  There was a special exhibition for Paul Cezanne and tickets had been arranged for all of us to attend.  Given all the work which had been done, I needed to attend just as a simple thanks and out of respect for the organisers.  There was also the fact that this was the Tate Modern.  Years had past, but it was still my favourite landmark in all of London.  Walking through the main turbine hall, I still felt a bit of the excitement I felt when I first arrived as a backpacker.  It seemed busier now.  There were more people around and there seemed to be more of a sensory overload with the way in which everything was set up.  Maybe it was just me and the way I had changed.

I went straight upstairs to the Cezanne exhibition.

Walking through the enormous crowds of people, it was a strange to see the sheer number of paintings that were from his period in the Cote d'Azur.  I laughed a bit to myself.  To be standing here, looking at these impressions of the place I had just been.  It seemed a bit strange to be confronted with this, almost like it had been an intentional event created to conclude my trip.

I enjoyed the exhibition, but it was the rest of the Tate Modern that I really wanted to visit.  The turbine hall and the adjacent rooms are as impressive as they always have been.  Walking through, I felt a sense of insignificance at the sheer scale of it all.  When I moved to Hong Kong, it was spaces like this that I had longed for.  Things in Hong Kong are improving in this area now with the opening of galleries such as M+, but this would still be the original for me.  It would always be the Tate Modern that opened my eyes and mind to this world that I loved so much.

After our time at the Tate Modern, we were brought to another private dining location.  We got lost on the way several times as we walked until we realised that the location was actually inside the security section of a modern looking office building.  There were people downstairs waiting for us.  We were taken upstairs to a room with a balcony overlooking the Thames river.

It was getting a bit much now.  There had been a lot of work, but at the same time the constant kindness shown to us was also excessive.  There didn't need to be so much of it and I felt like it wasn't necessary.  Still, it was important to be grateful for everything we received, and so with another glass of champagne in hand, I looked out towards London and decided to enjoy myself one last time.

With lunch finishing, everyone slowly started to depart.  There were planes that needed to be caught and everyone was flying off to all ends of the earth at different times.  I jumped into a cab with some of the Italians that were flying around the same time as me.  We laughed and chatted on the cab and train ride to the station.  Before long we were there and I said my goodbyes as I got myself ready for the long flight back to Hong Kong.

Upmarket London

I arrived late afternoon at Gatwick Airport.  I think it had been close to fifteen years since I had been here and I found the enormous bridge connecting the two terminals to be a very strange and unexpected sight.  My frequent trips to the UK had ended after I left the law firm.  I had always expected that I would be going back and forth to the UK far more, but that combination of employment change and the coronavirus had stopped all of that.  It seemed like the world had been thrown completely upside down since those days.  There wasn't much in the way of any plans which had survived, even being here in the UK was a bit of a surprise to me.

I was here for work, but I had a day before everything started so I went to see my brother.  I had been years since we had caught up.  In fact, we hadn't seen each other since he had gotten married back in Australia.  Since I had last visited him, he had moved twice.  He was still in West London, so we were able to walk around some of the old places I remembered around Bayswater near his old place.  His new place around Hammersmith Grove was a lovely example of the English terrace houses that make up most of the inner city of London.  The weather was chilly and we walked everywhere with our heads down as the wind and light rain lashed at our faces.  It felt like real UK weather.

After my short stay with my brother, I moved on to very different surroundings.  Work had me staying in a boutique hotel in Mayfair close to the office.  It was small, but extremely luxurious.  The staff took my bags and immediately led me to my room.  I sat inside for a little while and thought about where I was.  It was a far cry from the backpackers I used to stay in.  We were right next to the good end of Hyde Park.  I stepped outside the hotel and had a look up and down the small street of the hotel.  Everything just exuded wealth and money.  

The evening of the event, we were all invited to the Royal Automobile Club for dinner.  It was a suit and tie affair.  I had brought with me a collection of ties to wear for the event.  As I tied my tie, I realised it had been years since I had worn one.  There has been a major change in men's work fashion in the last ten years and ties seem to be slowly leaving the realm of "necessary" for office attire and very much into the optional basket.  Inside the club, we were confronted by more grandeur.  It was all classically beautiful.

We were taken to a private dining room for our dinner.  Champagne and canapes were served as we all stood and talked.  As I stood waiting, my good friend Corinne appeared.  By a strange change a fate, we had ended up working in the same organisation.  This strange serendipity has been elevated by the good fortune we had of being all together here in London for this event.  Dinner was fine, but nothing could compare to the surroundings.  Before I left, I walked into the main dining room of the club and looked up at the ceilings.  It was all awe inspiring.

The next few days went by quickly.  The work events took up most of my time and I had little time for contemplating anything else.  I arrived back at the hotel at a reasonable hour most nights and tried to sleep.  I was still trying to provide cover for the Asian business hours, so I found myself waking in the early hours to answer emails and respond to questions.  It started to take a bit of a toll and by the end of the trip, I was starting to feel tired.  On the very last night, a dinner was arranged for us.  We had a private dining event set up for us on the Thames river.  Once again, we all felt fortunate for the opportunity to enjoy such glamourous and beautiful surrounds.  

I stood by the water with a glass of champagne in hand looking out towards the water and the city.  I thought about my first trips to the city and also about whether I had any regrets about never living in London.  I think I did have some regrets.  My life hadn't played out exactly as I had planned or expected.  Living in the UK and in Europe had always factored in very highly on the list of things I wanted to do, but that probably wasn't so likely now.  A combination of personal and global factors had made those options less ideal for me.  Still, standing here now I felt that I was getting some of the good parts of what that life could have been like.

 

Another visit

Since I was in the region, I wanted to go see Adam and the kids.  It had only been a few months since I had visited them, but I still wanted to go and visit them.  I missed them a lot and with Maya gone, I thought about them constantly.  I had time.  It was all just a short flight away after all.  So after visiting the beautiful Ilkley, I decided to make my way to the South of France.  The travel was a little bit convoluted, but still acceptable all things considered.  I woke up early and caught a train from Ilkley to Leeds.  Once I arrived at Leeds, it should have been a short train ride to Manchester.  Sadly, the train was cancelled and I was jammed with dozens of others onto a later train.  It was one of the most overcrowded trains I have ever been on.  People seemed to take it in their stride as they joked and laughed about the situation we were all in.  After a painful and uncomfortable trip, we arrived in Manchester.  There I switched to a different train for the short trip to the airport.  Once I was at the airport, I thought that all things would be easy, but once again I was very mistaken.  I was confronted at Manchester Airport by the busiest and poorly managed security control I have ever experienced.  I couldn't quite understand why it was such a mess.  There seemed to be enough check points and there also seemed to be plenty of staff working, but for whatever reason, it was a wait of close to an hour just to clear this mess of a security check.  Once I was on the plane, I fell asleep.  It hadn't been a long distance traveled, but there was something about all the hiccups which had just drained me.  When I woke, we were close to landing.  I looked outside my window and immediately felt warmer.  Once we disembarked, I immediately put my jacket into my bag and walked out into the warmth of the Cote D'Azur. 

The kids were at school and so Adam picked me up from the airport.  We were both all smiles to be able to see each other.  It was a strange but pleasant feeling to be able to just "pop in" to visit.  This was now my fourth visit to the region, a fact which seemed very strange to me.  As we drove back to his home, I also realised that I knew the area quite well.  I didn't have the same sense of novelty from visiting somewhere new, but instead I looked at the streets with a feeling of familiarity.  We had a stop to make on the way back home to pick up Emil from school.  Adam stood in front of the door to the school as I hid to the side.  As Emil ran out, Adam pointed back towards me.  A big smile crept across Emil's face as he saw me and he came and gave me a big hug.  We headed back home to try to surprise Sofia.  When the car pulled in, she ran to the windows and saw me sitting in the car.  Once again, being able to surprise these kids made the trip worth it.

There wasn't too much to do for the next few days.  I had no need to do any tourist visits.  Instead we spent our time with the day to day activities of life.  We looked after the kids, helped them with their homework and got them ready for school.  For Adam and myself, we then just whiled away the time with chores, sitting in cafes and time in restaurants.  It was all extremely pleasant and a nice slice of the life in this picturesque part of the world.  For myself, it was a welcome period of rest and relaxation.  All of the activities with Adam and the kids were an absolute pleasure and only made the time I had more enjoyable.  One day when we were in Nice, we sat down outside at the restaurant Du Gesu.  With the kids at school, we were able to linger and just talk and enjoy the moment.  The weather was good.  The heat of summer was gone, but it was still ideal to sit outside.  The Nicoise classics were brought to our table and we slowly ate and drank our fill.  I thought back to when Phil, Todd, Tanya and Veronica had been with us.  That had been at the peak of the tourist season and we weren't even able to get a table here.  Now it was much calmer and more conducive for us to talk.

I wasn't without my tasks to complete whilst I was here.  Since Veronica hadn't been able to make her trip, I had been slowly gathering presents for her and the family.  Being in Nice, I immediately thought of Auer and their delicious candied fruits.  After lunch, Adam and I went over to the store to browse.  It is a classically designed store that looks like a throwback to another century.  They take great care to make their candied fruits using only the best fruits and their products show this quality and attention to detail.  Veronica's family have always had high standards when it comes to food, but even this surpassed all their expectations.  The candied chestnuts were a particular favourite of Veronica's father, so when I bought a box, I bought a few extra for Adam and myself to enjoy with our coffee the next day.

Adam had an appointment one day in Cannes.  Rather than just sit around and wait for him, I went for a walk around the town.  It felt much more like it did the first time I visited.  The big crowds were gone, but it was again still pleasant.  I found a small store selling tinned fish that Veronica's family and I liked and bought a few tins.  With the small chores I had planned now all complete, there was nothing left but to walk around until Adam was finished.

I thought back to all the times I had now been to Cannes.  I had gone from a wide eyed and young traveler seeking adventure to someone with more obligations and responsibilities.  I had clearly changed and developed, but I still looked up and around at my surroundings with a level of happiness.  It was beautiful, and I was lucky to be here.  The reasons for me being here had changed so much, but I was still thankful for it. 

I headed back home with Adam.  There we picked up the kids again and enjoyed the remaining time I had with them.  I would see them again, but when and where that would be was still to be determined.

Windy Moors

The lightening tour of the English North was continuing and I was now in Ilkley.  I didn't have the same time afforded to me as when I was a young backpacker, but I now thankfully had the means with which to take more efficient and fast transport.  It would still have been nice to have had longer, but it was at least one less impediment to visiting friends in far flung places.

This was an opportunity I had wanted for a long time. I had never been outside of London in all my years traveling to the UK, so being able to visit Charlie in his home was the perfect chance to change all of this.  The game in Sheffield had been fun, and the aftermath of it all had probably been even more fun.  We had made our way further North to Charlie and Sian's home in Ilkley where we had a lovely dinner together and then I passed out from a combination of exhaustion and jetlag.

I woke very early the next morning.  The sun hadn't risen yet and there was a mist hanging over the ground.  Charlie clearly heard me rousing and he woke as well and suggested we go up to the local ridge to watch the sun rise.  Jumping in his car, we drove up towards the ridge in the chill of the morning air.  We reached the ridge in no time at all and were soon walking around the moors of Yorkshire.

It was exceptionally beautiful.  As the sun slowly rose, it bathed the entire landscape in a bright golden glow.  The wind was blowing hard and I could feel it cutting through my jacket, but I was enjoying myself.  I wasn't sure if I was annoying Charlie, but since I was standing on a windy moor, I incessantly hummed and sang Kate Bush's song "Wuthering Heights".  It seemed to be the most apt song for the occasion.

We kept walking along the ridge, slowly climbing up to the top of the "cow" which gave us truly incredible view.  We could see all the way across the valley towards the other ridge.  We could even see Charlie's house from this spot.  The air was fresh and clean.  I missed this.  Living in Hong Kong is fun, but one thing that isn't fun is the lack of fresh air.  There's a constantly haze in the air and it never seems to be as fresh as it could be.  Here, I could feel my lungs clearing.

We slowly started to walk down and we met some local friends who were also enjoying the morning.  I was too slow with my camera, but we were also lucky enough to see a grouse as it flew around us.  It landed a few times, but each time I tried to capture the image it immediately flew off at speed.  It seemed to be teasing us.  

Back in Ilkley, Sian had woken up.  The bite of the morning cold was gone and it looked like it would be a nice day.  We changed into nicer clothes and made our way into the beautiful town centre.  The town is a lovely example of a historic old English spa town.  The buildings were grand and the streets all neatly laid out.  We walked around the markets and fairs that were open.  The shops in the town all felt like what you would expect from such a quaint little town as well, full of delicate baked goods and small handmade goods and crafts.  I bought some soaps for Veronica as well as some biscuits.  It seemed to be a good representation of the region.  As it approached lunch, we started walking to the restaurant.  We had a booking for a Sunday roast dinner which I was very excited about.  Being in England on a cold day, nothing felt more appropriate than a nice roast. 

Lunch was delicious as I had hoped.  The idea of a roast dinner seems quite simple, but ever since I was a child it was something I enjoyed.  My parents seemed to develop a fondness for it as well, and it soon became a regular meal in our home.  Here we were in far fancier surroundings and the roast was accompanied by delicately made sides and a bottle of Argentinian red.  

After a very filling lunch and more drinks afterwards, we made our way back to the house.  It was already dark by the time we arrived, with winter approaching fast.  We sat in the living room drinking tea and talking.  We were too full from lunch to think about a substantial dinner and so I went and got the "fat rascal" that I had bought earlier in the day to tide me over before sleep.  It had been a very English day.

Football fights

I was very happy to see my old friend Charlie.  We had both arrived in Hong Kong around the same time as one another, but he had sadly left to go back to the UK a couple of years ago.  With the time I had before the start of my work engagements, I thought it was the perfect time to go and visit him up North.  He was excited, but then suddenly concerned about whether we could actually arrange it.  He had already arranged to go to a football game with his old friends in Sheffield the same day that I arrived.  Would it be possible for us to actually catch up?  What would I do about my bags?  We thought about it and I started researching.  After a bit of thought, I told him to book my ticket.  I worked out that I could drop my bags at a nearby hotel.  Arriving in Sheffield, I immediately caught a cab to the hotel, dropped off my bags and within half an hour, I was happily in the pub with Charlie and his friends drinking a beer.  It felt strange to be in this very foreign place with someone I knew so well.  I had the lovely feeling of the unknown that I enjoyed so much when I visited somewhere new, yet it was all still something familiar given my upbringing in the Anglo-Saxon world.  I was behind the others who had been drinking for hours, but the game was about to start.  We finished off our beers and we made our way with the crowds towards the famous Bramall Lane.  This was a proper old fashioned English football stadium.  Even the lead up and walk to the stadium was an experience.  I was with Charlie and his friends, supporting Blackpool.  But the local team today was Sheffield United.  The different pubs in the area had all been assigned to the different teams, and there was no mixing allowed.  As the crowds congregated towards the stadium, so did the police presence.  It was all a positive feeling in the air so far, but there was clearly a concern and worry that things could take a more nasty turn at any point.

Once inside the stadium and seated, there was no more drinking.  There is apparently a rule in the UK that there is a no drinking if you are within "sight" of the pitch.  It created a strange situation of people crowding at the bars in the concourse of the stadium, but with large sections of ground marked at as not being permitted for drinking given they offered a glimpse of the pitch.  I stood with my friends and watched the game.  Being part of an English football crowd is an experience that all should have.  With the singing and cheering, it captures you and drags you along.  The game itself was also one to be remembered.  The home team quickly went up 2-0, yet somehow Blackpool managed to pull back to 2-2 by half time.  We went to get drinks and managed to get back to our seats after half time just as Blackpool pulled ahead to 3-2.  It was around now that mayhem started to breakout.  Blackpool managed to get two players sent off.  For the rest of the half, they battled 9 men against 11 as Sheffield launched wave after wave of attack.  Close to the end of regular time, a penalty was awarded to Sheffield.  This was surely the equaliser, and yet I stood and watched from behind the goal as the Sheffield player struck poorly and hit the post.  At this point, all that was left was for the referee to blow the whistle and still this didn't happen.  Eight minutes of extra time were declared, a truly unbelievable amount of time.  Blackpool continued to hold on, but in the very final minute, their hearts were broken as Sheffield managed to get the equaliser they had been searching for.  It felt unfair and didn't seem to reflect the task that Blackpool had achieved.  But that's the nature of sports.

At this point, I thought that the game was finally done.  I was very wrong, as the players decided on the pitch that they were very unhappy with what happened.  The Sheffield goalkeeper tried to start a fight with a Blackpool player and both were shown red cards.  It had now been four red cards in this game.  The players were quickly separated before things escalated further and sent in different directions.  This seemed to drive up the anger in the crowd.  The screaming and insults were being thrown between the fans and when we left the stadium, it seemed that fights were breaking out around the ground.  One of Charlie's friends was separated from us, and we later found him after some Sheffield fans had tried to attack him.  There's fun and passion, but then there's also too far.  This Europeans love of football definitely goes touch too far. It is a strange regression to the primal that belies any reputation of Europe's supposed cultural progress and superiority.

With everyone back together again, we headed towards the train station.  None of the group was from Sheffield, so everyone was jumping on different trains to head home.  Inside the station was a beautiful old Victorian pub.  For those living in the UK, this was nothing out of the ordinary.  For me, the sight of these historic old pubs was always fascinating.  They seemed to maintain a community for those in the area as well as providing a warm place for people like us to shelter and drink before our trains.

Soon enough, it was time for us to go.  We said our goodbyes and we boarded our train for Leeds.

Transit

Arriving at Heathrow, there was an odd and familiar smell.  It was a combination of damp, mildew and "old".  It reminded me of the old hospitals that my dad used to work in when I was just a kid.  Walking off the plane and towards passport control, I was happy to see my passport included amongst the list of those that could go in the faster lane.

It was very nice to be back in the UK.  It had been five years since I had visited.  It had become a regular trip with my old job, but global pandemics and my own change in situation had conspired to change all of that.  As I walked through the airport, it was good to feel the cool air again.  I didn't have much time though.  I wasn't staying in London at this point, so I needed to get to train station.

After a quick ride on the Heathrow Express and an annoying struggle through the Underground with its maze of halls and lack of escalators, I arrived at St Pancras station.  I had only been here a few times before.  It was a beautiful station that captured the very best of British imperialism with more modern flourishes.  One thing that still annoyed me were the pianos which had been placed everywhere.  I remember when I first saw them being placed around public places in Europe.  It seemed like a great idea to encourage more music and public interaction.  These days, it just seems to encourage either terrible or attention hungry piano players to loudly bang on the keys.

Getting from Heathrow to St Pancras had been faster than I expected.  I sat in the concourse and waited.  I had my ticket booked to head North.  This was going to be another new experience.  With some time before I needed to start work, I wanted to go visit Charlie.  It had been two years, almost to the day since he had left Hong Kong and it was now time for a reunion.  Eventually I was able to board the train.  Within a short time, we were out of London and speeding up into the middle of the UK.

As we passed the various stations on the way North, I saw names familiar to me only because of my youthful interest in English football.  These names had been associated with what seemed to be distant and imposing places, so it was a strange feeling to find myself in some very small and suburban little towns.  Their global fame and influence, inflated far beyond what they could actually offer as a result of a global obsession with football.

Between each of the stations, the English countryside opened up.  It was beautiful.  It was a deep green, with only the hint of the coming winter starting to be felt.  When people talked about the English countryside, this was the image that seemed to be in mind.  I was surprised by how quickly it all appeared too.  Within such a short distance outside of London and the other smaller towns the train passed through, it seemed to immediately jump to this farmed countryside.

The distances were short.  I was still too much an Australian.  Any travel in Australia, in any direction always involves hours and hours of travel.  Even thinking back to Sydney, if I drove from Coogee for an hour, I would probably still have only reached the outer suburbs of Sydney.  Here, once you were out, you were out.  The towns became a distant memory and there were fields as far as the eye could see.

Flying off again

After years of no travel, it was extremely strange to now be flying so frequently again.

I had only been back from my holiday a couple of months when I found myself now traveling again for work.

This time, the airport felt far busier.  It was still nothing like what it once was, but there was a buzz that seemed to be slowly returning.  Sadly, the impact of the last few years was still being felt on the population as a whole, as a saw several large groups of families, all tearfully saying their goodbyes to their younger members who seemed to be leaving Hong Kong permanently.

I was heading to London, to save a bit of money for the company, I found myself a flight of Finnair that seemed to fit my schedule.  It was very pleasantly surprised when I was finally on board and seated.  These new Finnair seats don't "recline".  Instead, the reclining seat has been removed entirely and the old shell becomes a larger and more spacious lounge like chair.  When it was time to sleep, a pad was raised at leg level to complete the flat bed.  It was such a novel and different approach to seating and I found it very easy to sleep in.

The flight was long.  With Russian airspace closed off, the flight path went South and seemed to skirt around parts of India, before finally heading back up towards Helsinki.  It was a longer route to take, but I was thankfully very fortunate to have the more comfortable seating which made the whole journey quite easy.  We arrived in Helsinki Airport at 6:00am.  I was the very first person off the plane and walked through the eerily empty halls without a soul in front of me.

The airport was very quiet given how early it was.  I had a few hours before my next flight, so I went for a walk around.  It was a modern airport and quite beautiful.  The style was very Nordic, with clean finishes and lots of wood.  The middle of the airport had a relaxation area that was particularly lovely.  It was full of large leather couches for resting, but surrounded above by a ring of screens that played scenes of nature from around Finland.  As you stood in the middle of this quiet space, you could hear the sounds of the natural scene on the screen playing.

With the time I had, I went to the lounge to rest for a bit.  I found myself a shower room and had a quick wash.  The ability to shower between flights isn't something I ever thought would be so useful.  The refreshment it brings after the long flight is immense and I felt completely reenergised afterwards.  It seemed to help reset my brain as well.  I normally shower when I wake up, so this was almost like a trigger to my brain, telling it that the "day" was about to start.

The inside of the Finnair lounge was simple and elegant.  It was quite empty given the time, but it was still a good place to sit for a few hours as I waited.  The food on offer was simple and generous, but still nothing compared to the lounges in Hong Kong.  For a place to rest and wait, it was a beautiful location to be in.

When it came time to board my next flight, I made the short walk back to the gate.  The airport is small and nothing seems to be much more than a five minute walk.  Along the way, I saw the Moomin themed cafe.  I was definitely in Finland.  It seemed a bit of a shame that I couldn't stay longer and go out into the city.  Maybe the next stopover would need to be longer.