A foreign holiday to London

The night had been spent tossing and turning, adorable wife unusually separated from me by a one-foot gap, on a bed of her own. The noisy air con had shut itself off, leaving a more peaceful, but muggier atmosphere. We had arrived at the Ruskin Arms hotel the evening before, having spent the day at work and then heading out to the big city by train and tube. Our hotel was a bargain, but it did mean we had to head to East Ham rather than stay in the city centre. The tube, even at night, was stiflingly hot, and it was a relief to arrive into night air. The walk from station to hotel was pleasingly simple, being only a matter of choosing the right direction and then walking. It was quickly apparent from the local demographic that I was a minority in this locale! This, plus the unusually warm evening, made it feel as if I was on holiday abroad, bringing a sense of adventure to our trip.

There was actually no genuine chance we were abroad because the whole purpose of the trip was to get a new passport for adorable wife, the old one having expired some while ago! I had concluded it was nicer to wake up in London and head direct to the Malaysian High Commission instead of waking super early and hitting the rush hour crowd in the morning. The hotel provided a convenient near enough location with a filling buffet breakfast, but at a price that was actually a few pounds cheaper than paying peak train prices and going there and back in a day!

I think neither of us slept perfectly because we were nervous something would go amiss when applying for the new passport. Considering we have already bought tickets for a trip to Dubai at the end of the year it was something that had to happen!

Full from breakfast we hit the tube, arriving in good time to be only 4th in the queue to be seen. By 10am we were heading out of the High Commission with a bag of homemade nasi lemak, noodles, and a sweet treat to share, but no passport. As far as we knew everything was fine, but the collection time was between 3 and 4, so the wait was agonisingly prolonged.

With time to spare we popped into Green Park, first honing in on the Bomber Command memorial to pay our respects, before finding a shaded spot to sit and eat the nasi lemak.

Bomber Command Memorial - Green Park

Yet again, in the heat of the day, that comforting sense we were actually on a foreign holiday returned. We had just packed away our meal with the aim of heading to the tube to visit Camden Market until 2.30ish when we spotted the queen's mounted guards trotting down the road! Adorable wife shouted over to me to run in their direction to take photos, which I did as best I could with a weighty backpack bouncing behind me.

The queen's mounted guards

All plans to head off were immediately disregarded as adorable wife was now on a mission to follow the guards! Several times I lost her in the midst of a growing swarm of people. When your other half is only 5ft it's easy to lose track!

Throngs of sightseers were perched on the queen Victoria memorial facing Buckingham Palace, with many more facing the memorial. Without really knowing why we took a space at the front of a rope barrier and waited to see what would happen next. The relentless sun beat down on my exposed skin mercilessly as we stood and waited. For a long time, the most dramatic event was the arrival of the mounted police, and a lost child being cared for, and fortunately reunited with his father.

Changing of the guard

The mounted police on patrol

Little boy lost! (Temporarily)

Here come the new guards

Struggling to get a view of the guards in the courtyard!

The swarms of tourists outside Buckingham Palace

Crowds of tourists arms all aloft with their phones!

Finally, the distant sounds of a brass band could be heard drifting up the Mall. Progress was obviously slow, because no tune was actually discernible for many more minutes, but at last the bearskin hats peeked above the traffic, and shortly after the crisp red uniforms and highly polished gold buttons of the queen’s guard emerged from the sea of vehicles and marched in perfect unison past the crowds and through the palace gates.

The band march off

They played for a good 20-30 minutes as the replacement guards marched in from the right, and the old marched out. It was difficult to see all that was happening because after they marched in, for a long time the action was taking place in the palace forecourt. Familiar tunes would wind their way to our waiting ears, from the theme tune to the original Star Trek, to Tom Jones’ It's not unusual.

It was an unexpected touristy treat to see the whole charade play out, yet again adding to the holiday feeling.

Guards changed we were now left free to kill some more hours before the passport was due. But now it seemed moot to head away on the tube so we decided to amble aimlessly, and so quickly found ourselves in Piccadilly, window shopping. As we wound our way passed super expensive branded shops in the beating sun we were reminded of Singapore, and once again this day trip felt like a foreign adventure.

It was the astounding window display in Fortnum and Mason that finally entrapped us into a little moment of capitalist spending. The windows were lush recreations of scenes and imagery from Alice in Wonderland; giant tea sets with a ginger cat’s tail poking out, its owner nowhere to be seen, vast ornate mirrors, spade plants, and colourful flowers sprouting from vibrant green grass. Besides which, as tea and coffee lovers, how could we not venture into the delights inside? We kept our shop simple, emerging with a selection box of teas for a friend, and a 250g of coffee beans for me! Tempting as it was, £100 for 60 year old balsamic vinegar just didn’t seem practical!

The staircase to the food hall in Fortnum and Mason

Having managed to spend a lot less than we could have, we carried on our Piccadilly adventure, stopping at the Piccadilly St James's Church market where we bought some lovely loose leaf Earl Grey tea for adorable wife, and Minamoto Kitchoan where it was impossible to resist some Japanese rice cakes. We would have happily taken a seat and treated ourselves to some green tea, but the only seats were already occupied by three prim Japanese ladies. Instead we found an air-conditioned bar and had a fruit smoothies as a refresher, before heading back to, hopefully, collect a passport!

We arrived back at the Malaysian High Commission at 3.30, with half an hour to spare. It wasn’t immediately obvious where adorable wife needed to go because the reception was no longer manned. I waited with all our kit and caboodle whilst she vanished into the depths of the building.

Despite the pleasures of the day so far, I couldn’t help but feel nervous. There was no logical reason that the passport would not be issued, but you sometimes your mind just wants to see the item itself before letting you be at peace.

The tense wait was thankfully brief, as a beaming adorable wife emerged waving her shiny new passport! This was the whole purpose of the trip, and at last she had the official document in her grasp!

It also meant we could now leave Piccadilly and check out Camden market.

Oh my! WHAT a place. Too much to squeeze into the end of this blog, so you'll just have to wait for part 2!!

Adorable wife has her passport!!!