I think the highlight of the day, however, was just after we left the house. I realized while standing at the bus stop that I'd forgotten my Oyster card (bus pass), and we were heading back to the flat to retrieve it when our bus came sailing down the street. Resigned to waiting a few minutes for the next one, we walked on back to the stop, bus pass in hand. A few minutes later, what should come rolling down West End Lane but an old London Routemaster bus. These are the buses that roamed London's streets for decades before being phased out of London Transport about 10 years ago. They are 2 stories tall with an open door in the back, a driver enclosed in his own small cabin up front, and a conductor who walks around in back collecting money and giving tickets. To my mind, they were the best of London's buses because you could get on and off them wherever you liked, so long as you could run fast enough. Sure, they lost the occasional tourist to a faceplant (I still have a vivid memory of my cousin dangling off the pole as a bus went roaring up Oxford St., running just fast enough to keep up, but not fast enough to make the leap up onto the platform - She made it eventually), and sometimes folks were known to fall off the back. But they mostly didn't die from it. Unfortunately, the costs of paying wages for two operators overrode their convenience and they were phased out for the modern style of bus, which features a driver who controls a closed door and who doles out tickets as patrons enter the bus - only at a regulation stop.
Anyway, it was quite a shock to see a Routemaster coming down our street, and when it stopped, there was a conductor, handing out tickets. Ironcially, the ride was free, as it turned out that that Sunday was the 10 year anniversary of the last day the Routemasters had run that route. It was a commemorative bus, freshly painted and with brand new upholstery, and it was surprisingly nice to ride in her. Folks turned to look and shoot pictures at every corner. We spent some time chatting with other riders downstairs before heading upstairs to have a seat. I've got many a fond memory of sitting upstairs on the way to school, smoking a cigarette and people watching. The ride was just long enough for a smoke. Of course, once smoking on buses became illegal, lighting a cigarette at the bus stop was the surest way I knew to guarantee that a bus would come around the corner in 10 seconds or less. Here are my folks sitting upstairs:
And the walks down memory lane didn't stop there. We hopped off the bus just down the street from Lord's Cricket Ground, one of the most famous cricket pitches in the world. And out front, what should we spy but a good old-fashioned red London telephone booth. The ones that are fully enclosed and used, more often than not these days, as a shower stall in a new yuppie loft (note: I'd love one of these for a shower stall). I'm sure it was left there as a historical artifact to go with the historic cricket ground. I suppose I should have kept an eye out for the old style London postboxes, too, but it didn't occur to me.
The whole day conspired to really remind me of my youth in London and just how much I miss living in that city. To top it off, we had excellent weather the whole time I was there. Not exactly the balmy days of summer, but dry and with the sun peeking out on occasion, which was reason to rejoice after a week or two of unseasonably nasty weather prior to my arrival. You can see the large numbers of folks walking along the incredibly verdant canal that wraps the north side of the park.
One thing about folks who live in crappy climates - they definitely know how to take advantage of good weather when they get some. Californians take nice days for granted.
While walking through Regent's Park, we detoured over to what was known, in my day, as "The Party Tree." I've got tons of memories of glorious spring and summer days spent drinking beers and smoking joints with friends under and in the tree, which was covered with the carved initials of an entire generation of students who had spent time at the American School in London. Sure enough, they were still there. I could even put names to some of the initials, though there were folks in the tree, so I couldn't climb up and find mine.
I'm really looking forward to spending 4.5 days in London on my way home. Hopefully, Spring will be in the air and I'll be able to ride all over town. I've already got plans to hook up with a number of friends I haven't seen in more than a decade. It should be a blast.
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