Posts Tagged ‘bus’

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Travel update: Stonebridge Park

December 2, 2012

I completely forgot that the other week, on our way back to London from Peterborough, Toby’s parents drove us via IKEA in Wembley, where we managed to get some much-needed furniture for the flat which I blogged about on HOMME FATAL here. As we had misjudged the size of their large-but-not-quite-large-enough car, Toby and I weren’t actually able to fit in the car along with the furniture for the journey back to Chiswick, and so we decided to meet his parents back at our flat and caught the bus to Stonebridge Park, where we got the overground back to Gunnersbury:

Stonebridge Park

 

I had never really visited this part of London before, and I am very intrigued to go to Warwick Avenue and Wembley Stadium, neither of which are too far away I don’t believe.

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officially moving out and up!

September 27, 2012

ACTUAL LEGITIMATE NEWS: we have signed the contract on the flat and we are moving to Chiswick next weekend! I am extremely excited to finally have my own place with Toby, which will have mirrors and wardrobes and a communal patio / garden, and the potential to have a parking space with a car! It feels terribly grown up to have found our first place as a couple, and somewhat accomplished to have gone from starting a flat-hunt to signing a contract in a week. I think that now I am going to compile a list of ideal housewarming / birthday gifts I need / would like to receive. Fun!

Also, Toby and I attempted to go and see Looper on Wednesday. Unfortunately, it hasn’t come out yet – so that was embarrassing. However, we ended up going to Fulham Broadway and having a lovely meal at Wagamama instead (and I also bought a book from Daunt Books on Fulham Road, Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris, which so far is hilarious). In order to get to Fulham Road from Conway Street, I took the 14 bus from Euston Square:

Short and sweet! Like the 74, the bus took forever to turn up; unlike the 74, it did not get hopelessly stuck in traffic for half an hour as soon as it did. I don’t know if I would necessarily take it again (and after next week, I’m unlikely ever to need to again), but it was a nice excuse to tick off another tube station. Look out for Turnham Green to Ravenscourt Park, likely to be snapped and posted in the near future!

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travelling.

August 14, 2012

I’m currently just over halfway through a well-earned two-week break from work, and I’m back in Bristol at the moment with my family. But over the past week I have bounced up and down the country, from London to Peterborough to Hastings then back to London via Heathrow!  During the car journey with Toby and his parents from Hastings to London, I played “the adjective game” with his mother in the back seat, which involves taking turns in saying the following rhyme:

I love my love with an A because he’s _____ (positive adjective beginning with A, e.g. “amazing”)
I hate my love with an A because he’s _____ (negative adjective beginning with A, e.g. “arrogant”)
His name is _____ (boy’s name beginning with A, e.g. “Aaron”) _____  and he comes from _____ (UK town beginning with A, e.g. Aberystwyth)

The next person does the letter B, then the letter C, and so on. It soon became apparent that while I could think of adjectives and boys’ names fairly quickly, my knowledge of British geography is woefully lacking. Apart from when my dad’s mother was alive and we would visit her for a couple of days in Filey, Yorkshire each summer, and travelling to the outskirts of London to see various members of my father’s family when I was young each Christmas, I didn’t really get to know much of England. School trips stuck mainly to the south west – occasionally Birmingham or Wales, but never any further.  In my late teens, when I was doing my university applications, I visited cities such as Oxford and Cardiff for the first time. I hadn’t even gone to central London and used the underground until I was 19 years old. I only like two cities in England – Bristol (more about that later), and London. I’m certainly not attached to anywhere else. Nevertheless, I feel that it’s important to visit cities in my home country (as well as countries throughout the world – Toby and I spent an hour last week making an exhaustive list of desired holiday destinations that will probably take us through to our seventies) to experience new places and broaden my horizons.

During my time in Peterborough, Toby’s mother suggested to us that we might like to go for a picnic at Rutland Water, which is a giant man-made lake / reservoir in the middle of the countryside.  Within that sentence, there are two words which unnerve me deeply: “picnic” and “countryside”. I don’t like picnics because they conjure up images of sitting on grass and mud, eating miserable sandwiches and constantly warding off bugs and insects. My preferred way of experiencing the countryside is through Google Earth or iPhoto – that way, you don’t have to smell it or get hot and sweaty walking through it, and you can turn it off once you get bored. I realise this sounds bratty, and I’m poking fun at myself a little bit – but I’m truly not one for gazing out over endless fields. I see it, my mind takes a picture, let’s move on – the fields do not do anything entertaining to hold my attention, and there’s no focal point. However, I tried to be up for something new, and I didn’t want to outwardly reject Toby’s offer of an outing, so we went along. The first hour of walking along a cycle path through clouds of midges, lumps of poo and flocks of sheep with the sun beating down on me and cyclists weaving all around us did not do much to endear me to Rutland Water, and I felt really bad. While my worst fears had indeed been confirmed, Toby had tried to do something nice for me and I wasn’t being very appreciative – he got a bit upset, I apologised and made more of an effort at conversation, we ate our nice sandwiches on a bench (at first he did come close to breaking his promise that we wouldn’t sit on the grass, but I firmly put the kibosh on that one), and soon it was a much more pleasant experience. We then drove round to the other side of the lake, which was far prettier and felt a lot more like a park.  For the record, I really like parks – we visited Battersea Park on Tuesday and it was lovely, plus we fell in love with nearly every dog that we saw (one of which, a bichon frisé, fell in love with me and followed me for about 5 minutes much to the chagrin of his owner). My mood had lifted a lot and I was actually enjoying myself, and Toby was too – as guilty as I felt for my initial ungratefulness, I am proud that I was mature enough to get over myself, enjoy myself and thank Toby for his thoughtfulness in the process. We skimmed stones (I discovered that I am really bad at this), looked at a very strange metal sculpture (apparently created purely to be aesthetically capitivating):

and walked along a dam made of piles of stones, which was very romantic. I ended up having a lovely time and after my initial disquiet, I appreciated the fresh air and open space.  Would I go again? I probably wouldn’t be the one to suggest it as a destination, but neither would I feel anxious about going. I still majorly dislike the countryside – that’s just me, I’m afraid – but I think I can learn to get along with it.

A couple of days later, we went a long drive from Peterborough down to Hastings for Toby’s brother’s engagement party (his brother’s fiancée is from there). I would personally never choose to live in Hastings, as it’s extremely tiny (I do not cope with tiny towns) and feels underdeveloped and a bit tacky, but – walking along the waterfront at night, and then picking my way down to the shore the following lunchtime, I could see that living by the seaside does have its charms:

Walking along the waterfront with Toby’s dad and Katie’s father as the sun set was truly lovely – people were playing crazy golf, a live band was playing, and there were stalls selling confectionery and ice cream. On Sunday we had lunch at a restaurant on the shore, and we went down to the water’s edge after finishing our meal and being that close to the water did feel a little bit magical. It did help that the weather was wonderful, but the venue just possessed a holiday atmosphere which I was able to appreciate. We drove back up to London and Toby’s parents dropped us off at Heathrow airport, which did feel exciting – we joked about just getting on a plane and leaving the country (and there were certainly plenty of appealing destinations on the departures board), but Toby had to be well-behaved as he is back at work this week. We each had a lemon San Pellegrino at the Caffé Nero there, and then got the tube back to Earls Court – and I ticked another underground station off my list:

And now I am back in Bristol. I am having a lovely time seeing my family and friends, and it is good to be home… but at the same time, I really feel that London is also my home now. I’ve lived there for a year (which has flown by!), and every time I return to Bristol, I notice how small the city feels, how tiny the buildings are, and how a considerable amount of the people look a bit… idiosyncratic. Obviously, you get dodgy-looking people everywhere, but I guess that until I started to see more of the world, I didn’t notice it in my own city as much. I always knew that the public transport in Bristol was a joke, but today I paid £2.90 for half an hour’s bus journey. The bus driver was on his mobile phone at the bus stop and I had to wait for him to finish his conversation before I could buy a ticket; I then asked how much it cost (as he didn’t tell me the price of the ticket – he just assumed I would know), and upon paying the driver, he practically threw my change at me, slamming it into the little money tray. I know that Bristol is a very friendly city, and that London is notorious for its rudeness and impatience, but the London public transport is far superior not only price-wise (a bus journey is less than half the price, and even the tube is considerably cheaper), but attitude-wise too – I’ve never been sassed by a London bus driver to date. So sort it out, Bristol! It’s sad that unless something major happens, we’d never be able to afford to buy somewhere in central London, because that would be a dream – but I’m looking forward to Toby and I moving into our own place (we are renting our own flat together in the next couple of months – I’m so excited!) in the next couple of months.  My sense of exploration is blossoming.

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Tube update: Finchley Road & Frognal and Hampstead

July 15, 2012

Today, Toby and I had a long lie-in and I finished watching Veronika Decides To Die (excellent, thought-provoking film; Sarah Michelle Gellar is captivating). We didn’t really know what to do with ourselves – we were debating whether to go to Westfield but decided that a Sunday trip would be better as it will hopefully be a little less busy. So after breakfast, I tempted Toby with the idea of going to Hampstead. I go up there for work sometimes, and the leafy, suburban feel is different to the London that we normally inhabit. We got the Overground from West Brompton to Finchley Road & Frognal:

Then, we walked up to see Sigmund Freud’s house on Maresfield Gardens. It’s £6 to go in and have a look, and I’d heard that the museum inside was fairly tiny, so we left that for another time when we were more in the mood, but from the outside the house was very quaint:

We then decided to explore Hampstead High Street, since I had heard that it was a lovely area, but had never been there myself.  On the walk there, the heavens opened and so we took shelter in Caffe Nero, where we had lunch. The rain passed, and we looked around the Oxfam Bookshop and Zara Home. I also saw Hampstead tube station:

We then walked back to West Hampstead to get the 328 back to Earls Court, which was a long journey! In my previous London Underground post on West Hampstead, I had just posted a picture of the Overground station, and as the bus was going past, I managed to snap a quick picture of the underground station across the road, so I thought I would add that one here too:

Oh the glamour! But it was lovely to explore parts of London we don’t see, and that have such a different feel to the Royal Borough and Fulham. I look forward to doing some more before the summer is over!

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Tube update: Richmond, Kew Gardens and Hammersmith

January 22, 2012

Today Toby and I decided, to start our healthier lifestyle (all my clothes still fit but I was disconcerted to realise how snug my suit jacket felt when I put it on yesterday at work), that we would have a long walk. We got on the bus to Richmond (which takes a lot longer than 30 minutes – don’t believe the bus timetables!) and had a lovely lunch at Starbucks! The station however is not what I have been used to. Witness their underground sign:

Underwhelming, n’est-ce pas? So after fruitlessly searching the station, I decided that this shot would have to do:

After speaking to the barista at Starbucks (and finding out that you have to pay to get into Kew Gardens proper), we decided that the best thing to do would be to walk round Old Deer Park and then along the Thames – which was a two mile walk! We did well! It was very pretty and we took some pictures along the way:

We saw a rainbow!

Toby was pleased by our walk and decided to look stately.

Eventually we got to Kew Bridge, walked through Kew (and decided that living there might be a bit too out of the way, but all in all wouldn’t be too shabby) and made our way to the Kew Gardens tube stop, which was again somewhat underwhelming but at least an improvement on Richmond:

It was a lovely day and we both felt tired but healthy after our walk! We got the bus back and although this is sort of cheating, during the journey I managed to get a good picture of Hammersmith tube station:

Good times! Shame that as I post this blog, I have just come back from the pub and sneaked a couple of profiteroles… A well, every day is a new day! Goodnight folks x