Most of the trips I take are to travel conventions, so I spend much
of my time in meetings or talking with people at trade shows or
over meals. But there are valued moments when I venture off on my
own. During my recent visit to London, I had a few such occasions.
On the day before the opening of the World Travel Market, I had
a few hours before an appointment at the Earls Court meeting site.
I took the tube from Fulham Broadway and got off at South
Kensington, a couple of stations beyond Earls Court. It was a
clear, chilly afternoon, and I had time to walk back at a leisurely
pace.
I walked along Cromwell Road, one of my favorite avenues in
London, past the Natural History Museum and a few familiar hotels,
including the Forum and the Swallow, into a neighborhood with a
wide choice of Indian restaurants.
I came to Warwick Road and walked around the corner near the
Earl's Court tube station to reach the trade show venue. The walk
took about 45 minutes and was invigorating.
A few days later, when my day's business at the trade show ended
in the late afternoon, I took a taxi to Jermyn Street, the shopping
street just a block over from Piccadilly. I stopped in Floris, a
fine place for perfumes and soaps, and bought some gifts. I walked
on to the Leicester Square half-priced ticket booth and bought a
ticket for a play.
With a few hours before curtain time, I walked on to Covent
Garden. Inside the Market building, two young women with lovely
voices were singing operatic arias. While one did a solo, the other
passed the hat on the upper and lower levels of the building.
I stopped in the Boots pharmacy for a few minutes and then moved
on to the neighborhood of the theater. I studied the menus on the
doors of the many restaurants and decided on an Italian place
called Rez on Tavistock Street.
It was a Monday, not a busy theater night, so the restaurant was
almost empty at the pre-theater hour. I ordered ravioli with
spinach and ricotta and a bottled water. While I waited, I browsed
through some theater brochures. The food came and the ravioli
proved to be an excellent choice.
I arrived at the theater just as the doors opened. I bought a
program and took my seat. The play was a disappointment, but I
wouldn't let it spoil my good mood. I walked along the Strand to
Charing Cross, took the subway back to the Fulham Broadway station
and walked back to my hotel.
For those few hours, I had spoken only to the people in the
stores, the half-price ticket booth and the restaurant. But it was
OK. Being alone isn't the same thing as being lonely.