It was Easter Sunday in London and I landed at Heathrow from Oslo, en route back to Vancouver. This was the end of my weekend trip to Oslo. I had an eight-hour layover in London, which meant, of course, that I would be going into the city, just as I had two days prior, during an even shorter layover (wherein I visited “Little Venice”).
Again, I had only a very small, under-seat sized backpack, so I just zipped through the airport, without having to faff about with luggage storage, and to the Heathrow Express. Once at Paddington Station, I took the Tube to Piccadilly and walked around from there.
I found myself gravitating towards the West End. I walked past Squares Trafalgar and Leicester. (I always feel the need to explain that even though I know many people hate Leicester Square [a position I find quite reasonable], I have a fondness for it, because that is where I worked when I lived in London, so many years ago.)
The thing that struck me on that Easter morning was that everything was so empty. Sure, it was a bit early, but cafés and some shops were open, but the streets and squares were empty. Perhaps people were at home with family or sleeping in, but I felt like I had London to myself – in a wonderful way; not in a “28 Days Later” way.
I walked down St. Martin’s Lane and had coffee and a bite to eat on New Row, which is normally jam packed with tourists and walkers, but now was serene.
I walked over to Covert Garden, which was a bit busier, but not the throngs that I would normally see on a sunny, beautiful day.
Covent Garden. The last time I was here it was a sea of people
I did have a plan for this layover; it wasn’t all aimless wandering and espressos. I was to visit Sir John Soane’s Museum, so that was my next stop (on foot). Sir John Soane’s Museum (which I shall now simply refer to as “The Museum”) is in Holborn, near Covent Garden, just on the side of Lincoln’s Inn Fields. It is a museum set in the former residence of and displaying the collections of English architect Sir John Soane, who lived from 1753 to 1857. (It is actually two residences, side by side at Lincoln’s Inn Fields.)
Lincoln’s Inn Fields
The Museum is free, but limited to about 90 visitors daily, so often there is a queue, but I got there early and waltzed in. Once inside, you understand why the visitors are limited. But for a couple of more spacious rooms, The Museum is a series of narrow corridors and every inch is covered in extraordinary antiquities. Paintings, sculpture, coins, tombs, weapons, instruments, frescoes, friezes, busts…everything you can imagine and things you could not. There is even an ancient Egyptian sarcophagus of Sarcophagus of Seti I, dating to the late 1200s BC. I tripped over the stairs next to it, making the loudest possible clatter, and spent the rest of the visit terrified I would break something.
Images from The Museum, including a little mirror selfie
It is extraordinary. Like the home of a rich, cultured, hoarder.
I left there feeling ebullient. London is just amazing. It has almost all the things I want in a city: history, art, culture, multiculturalism, cigar lounges, excellent curries, expansive public transportation, green spaces…I felt so happy to have had two visits already this year (albeit short ones).
I walked around for a while longer, feeling happy, and then eventually I got back on the train to go to the airport. (I did pop by the usual cigar spots, but they were closed for the holiday.)
A wander in London
What an excellent weekend. I didn’t even mind that it was cut short by work. Two long layovers in London and 30 hours in Oslo? Sounds like a perfect weekend to me.
As I left, I knew I would be back in London again in a month as part of my forthcoming trip to Belarus.
