Our British friends told us not to visit London. They don’t like it. But, of course, we didn’t listen to that, and booked our trip in September with a side trip on Eurostar, to Paris, and then back to London.
We (as in I) did a lot of research, pre-trip, including lots of maps, train information, and money exchange tips. That was a very good idea.
The very first decision that evolved from my research was opting for London City Airport rather than Heathrow. There were many reasons: it was half the distance to our Club and also from the hotel we had planned for the second half of our London stay. And given the warnings about London traffic and the associated costs for cab fare and even Uber, we thought cutting that distance in half was a good idea. LCY (London City Airport) was a breeze–much smaller than Heathrow, and quite easy to navigate to trains, buses, Tube, etc. to get from the airport to the city. We flew from Bradley International Airport to Dublin–a welcome itinerary addition to our close-by Hartford airport, and then from Dublin to London. This was seamless on the way in–more about the way home later.
We arrived at Dublin before sunrise, and were safely in London by mid-morning. But, before embarking on our train rides to the Landsdowne Club in Westminster-Mayfair, we needed pounds–not calories, mind you, but British currency.
We began by stopping at the exchange window at the airport to buy an “Oyster Card” so we wouldn’t need to use up our local money and could take multiple-train and tube trips for our stay. This was before Brexit was passed, but FYI, England kept its currency even before that and did not and do not use Euros.
We took the train and the Tube from LCY, enjoying seeing the countryside from the above ground train, and enjoying (well I did, Jay not so much since he easily gets claustrophobic, and I have the propensity to stop and chat with everyone to ask yet another question) the Tube and its many choices of destination. We arrived at Green Park Station and could walk to our Landsdowne Club, with one rolling bag each to tote. On our way, I noticed a Londoner devouring a yummy-looking sandwich, and asked her where she got it. I told you I talk to everyone. She directed us to the corner shop, Pret a Mange, the equivalent to our favorite, Panera Bread, and we were ecstatic to discover all of the sandwiches, yogurts, fruit beverages, water, and typical Panera-type food as our budget go-to for small meals.
We actually weren’t as interested in the normal touristy things, even though our first week in London was in the government area of Mayfair. During our stay at the Landsdowne Club, there was a lot of protesting and marching going on around Parliament, about the Brexit issue, so we were fine with not visiting where the crowds and drama was gathered.
Instead, we relaxed much of the morning at the Club, which is a reciprocal club to the one I belong to in Hartford, Connecticut–Town and County- a great place to network, talk about business, have lunch, and attend events.
The Landsdowne Club 
Club entrance
The Landsdowne Club was not what we were expecting. Some of our experience could be attributed to the fact that the English aren’t the touchy feel-y ilk, but I suspect it’s mostly the management that controls the attitudes. The front desk was friendly, for the most part, but certainly not warm and inviting. Our room was adequate, had a private bathroom (yay!), and was quiet and clean. The pricey Club fees included a daily full English breakfast, buffet style, with some table service. We enjoyed the food, but I am still not willing to ingest blood pudding. I know, I know. There’s just something about eating blood that repels me.
In general Landsdowne, in Mayfair-Westminster, was quite convenient for what we wanted to do on our first stay in London town: see Harrods, have high tea, shop on Bond Street (London’s Rodeo Drive equivalent), visit Marks & Spenser (where I had ordered a towel many years ago for my son to gift him the item referenced in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Universe), and explore various other high-end shops, just for fun.
We ended up doing all of that and including spending an hour or so admiring McLaren’s at the showroom on Knightsbridge, close to Bond. We didn’t expect the added fun of seeing Hyde Park, and passing by Victoria and Albert Museum. But, as I said, museums weren’t high on the list for this visit. Yet, it is good to catalogue where everything is to be tourist-ready for another time. Research is generally so much easier on site than reading about it. The highlight was the unexpected birthday gift from hubby of high tea at Harrods, which was even better than I imagined.
to be continued…
own! I will now know where to get good Chinese food.
So after chatting a bit with a friend we met in St. Maarten’s, we decided to book Negril, on the west coast of the island, and far away from touristy places. We wanted to meet the people, see what the real Jamaica, without the high rises was like.
We landed, and after some navigating of the bustling noisy, airport to find money exchange and the location of our shuttle to Negril, we settled into the van for the two hours it would take to get to our villa, including dropping others off at their destinations along the way.
But, after confirming our status, we were warmly welcomed, and were escorted to our villa, a duplex we shared with a couple from the midwest, USA, who turned out to be mildly friendly, but definitely there to kick back on the beach and smoke their pot–a pastime we were to learn was more than common for Negril visitors (if not the rest of the island, which I cannot attest to.
We lost no time donning our beach clothes and making our way through the property to the Crystal Waters beach, which turned out to be next door to Margaritaville, separated only by a fence, and a gaggle of drug dealers and their steady customers. We saw them disappear from time to time, and asked a local about that. He told us they get arrested, but then they come back because they have to sell some stuff to pay for their bail bonds. We were learning. While we in our country are voting on referendums, this island, and I suspect many islands are welcoming the potheads without hassles. It is very, very available.
Our first day, concluded with ordering a whole red snapper fish for the next day’s meal, finding that we would have our breakfast prepared whenever our cook, Denice saw our front door ajar, and that our grocery order would be delivered the next day–paid in advance, in Jamaican dollars, because one Jamaican dollar cost us about $.77 plus the exchange rate, which we found out later is not a good rate at the airport.
We lounged on the beach some more, and turned in for the night, with me, resisting complaints that it was already very hot, and very humid. And, I wasn’t wanting to turn on the air conditioner, since going in and out of air conditioning isn’t usually a good idea either. But, I kept eyeing hubby who was in beach heaven.
Returning to Los Amigos, we changed for dinner, and wandered back to the Indian restaurant, Punjab Palace, which we knew we liked, and feeling like this couple of blocks of walking was nothing. 
What we found was a little strip mall in walking distance from the condos, with a couple of Spanish food restarants and the Punjab Indian restaurant, plus a convenience store with trinkets, water, T-shirts, etc., and other goods.
