Classic Post: TRIP PLANNING 101 - Part 4

NOTE: Tim is in charge of planning our next big trip.  It's a baseball stadium tour working towards his goal of visiting every major league park.  This trip will add three to his already big list.  

Today I bought the plane tickets for our trip. My dad has confirmed that his vacation time was approved so now we start to nail everything down. I went online and did a search at Expedia, Southwest, and Frontier. The closest Southwest came to Cincinnati was Columbus. Frontier went to Dayton. But I found a flight right to Cincinnati for less on Expedia, on Continental connecting through Houston.

(Note: Continental Airlines has since been merged with United Airlines since the report was originally written-Ed)

The flight home was just a little bit cheaper on Southwest from Kansas City, but since Southwest doesn’t charge baggage fees, we’ll save around $100 for the entire flight cost plus, since we board first, we should be able to get bulkhead seats coming home. We will be leaving from Ontario, California…which is a much easier airport than LAX.

Entire flight cost is $861, including taxes, for three people. We already booked seats together for the Continental flights.  Both sites, Southwest and Expedia, let you arrange for your aisle chair and transfer online.

Now it’s time to book the hotels. The best room for the best price I could find in Cincinatti was the Comfort Suites at $131 per night a little less than a mile from the ballpark. It's a wheelchair accessible studio with a king bed and sofabed.  I booked it. It has no cancellation fees if cancelled at least 1 day prior to arrival.

I found a 2-room suite at the Drury Inn in St. Louis next to the arch for $157 per night. Finally, in Kansas City I booked the Residence Inn by Marriott near downtown. Both of these hotels let you cancel with no penalty up until the day of arrival and both are also accessible suites.

Now that we’re guaranteed rooms, I can keep a lookout for lower rates and if I find them, cancel the original reservations to save money.

We’re now good with air tickets and hotel reservations. Next up, need to find a rental car to drive from Cincinnati to St. Louis…and maybe to Kansas City. Also, I need to get tickets to the games.

(Note: We'll be updating these prices for 2022 in the last post of this series, stay tuned - Ed)

-Tim

CLASSIC TRIP - Montana and Yellowstone 2002, Part 1

A Montana Collage - Gallatin National Forest

Be careful what you wish for, right?  My wife wanted to really get away (we were having our kitchen remodeled and we were stressed) so I found what, so far, has been the most out-of-the-way and as-far-away-from-civilization accessible lodging in the country - 14 miles from the nearest town and 7 miles from the nearest paved road...the last mile was the driveway into the lodge.  She also had never been to Yellowstone so we put together this trip.  So let's go back to 2002, shall we?

Right up front, let's just say that you need a little extra determination to get here and then get around...especially if you use a wheelchair for mobility.

The state's major airports at Bozeman, Billings, and Helena just don't show up on major airlines radar screens so direct flights from most of the country is not an option. What flights you do find are not going to be cheap. Once you arrive, accessible public transportation will be a challenge to find as will accessible van rentals.

We decided to drive. From L.A., this is not a quick and easy road trip especially if you have trouble sitting in the car for long spells. After 3 nights on the road, we were finally at our destination....Big Timber, Montana, about 50 miles east of Bozeman. We needed some time to just not drive any more.

Researching for a place to stay yielded the Burnt Out Lodge, a bed and breakfast run by Ruth Drange on her family's cattle and sheep ranch. The lodge is accessible with three ramps leading into the building. The area around it is not, so you will need your own private van or car to get there.

The reason you need your own ride is because it is remote. In fact, for a wheeler, I cannot think of a more remote accessible accommodation that I have ever come across. The lodge is located at the farthest reach of the three thousand acre ranch abutting the Gallatin National Forest.

Only 7 Miles to go to the Burnt Out Lodge

To get there, you first drive seven miles beyond Big Timber. Then, it is up six miles of dirt road to the first gate. Someone must get out of the car to open the gate (an attendant here is really necessary for all but the most hardy wheelers), drive through, return to close the gate lest any cows escape the ranch. One more mile of bumpy road is necessary to navigate before you reach the lodge building where one more gate must be opened and closed.

It takes a pretty major effort just to get here.

Once here, it is pretty easy to go up a ramp into the building and into your room. The lodge has a vast open public area with a two story fireplace to warm up at. Five rooms are all on the first floor and each will allow access for a wheelchair easily. One room in particular has been built with bars for the toilet and bathtub for access. There is no roll-in shower, however. Plastic chairs are available for use as bathing chairs.

The View from the Room

We stayed in the accessible room, although as the only guests at the inn Ruth offered us our choice of any room. The room is huge and very open and airy. A twenty foot ceiling reinforces that feeling. It is furnished sparsely with just a bed, two night stands, a small table and two chairs. It was sparkling clean and comfortable, but it does take a bit of getting used to.

Our first day had started in West Yellowstone, Montana after we had stopped there for the night. Along the way to Big Timber, we stopped at Nevada City, a recreated Ghost Town where authentic buildings had been moved to from other areas. It was a quiet and not unpleasant stop but not exactly enthralling either.

In Big Timber, we had dinner at Prospector Pizza in a pretty little downtown area before bedding down for the night at the Burnt Out Lodge. We saw dozens of deer along that 7 mile access road up to the lodge.

After sleeping pleasantly in our large room with all the windows and the front door open (great things to do when you're several miles from the nearest road), we had our breakfast and decided to do a little sight seeing.

This morning, that would entail heading up the Boulder River valley from Big Timber. We stopped when we got to Natural Bridge.

A short hike lead us to a bridge and several viewing platforms built into the rock. The paths are accessible but be careful of the hundred foot drop off of the sides when heading to the platforms. The bridge path is not as scary.

From the bridge and the platforms, you can see the natural bridge when the water level is low, as it was when we visited in July. In a spectacular display, the river drops down a hole and travels about one hundred yard before emerging from a shear cliff face.

When the water level is higher, the hole is underwater and the river flows over the natural bridge but you can still see the other waterfall emerging from the hole in the cliff.

After our tour up the valley, we headed back to Big Timber. It was over one hundred degrees when we hit town so we decided to spend the afternoon in the community pool. A buck fifty was all it took to get all three of us in where we lounged around for an hour and a half...until the lifeguard's shrill whistle told everyone to immediate evacuate the pool. A thunderstorm was approaching fast.
 
We took quick shelter in the small pool house where I took the opportunity to give Tim a shower in the only roll-in shower we would see in Montana. Now that's what I call thinking on my feet!

We changed back into our street clothes and headed out of town. The rain had let up enough so that we could visit Prairie Dog Town State Park. This is a small area set aside for these large, barking rodents where you can see them in a wild setting to your heart's content. Outside the park's perimeter, the critters are fair game for the farmers and ranchers who shoot these animals as pests when they see them.

A shower and a nap back at the lodge refreshed us and we headed back into town for dinner at the City Club, a combination steakhouse, bowling alley (six lanes!), bar, and casino. We had some delicious Montana steaks...better than the steaks we payed three times as much for on the way home in Las Vegas.

The town turns in pretty early and try as we might, we couldn't find too much to do after 7:30pm. We missed the only showing (7:00) at the local theater but we'd already seen Lilo 'n Stitch back home. A trip back to the lodge where we could reach out and pat a cow's behind as we drove by was in order.

Another night with the fresh Montana air wafting through the room and we were ready to tackle another day. After breakfast, we drove fifty miles to Bozeman to visit the Gallatin County Fair's opening day.

This is a very small fair where everybody was giving out freebies or samples. Everybody had candy bowls out for quick little nibbles. A local political group opposed to an upcoming ballot measure gave us a huge sports cup (with their logo on it, natch) filled with ice cold water with a local chiropractor matching that with a big bottle of spring water out of an ice bucket...perfect for the 105 degree day.

A few local sportmen's groups filled our bag with free fishing tackle...lures and bobbers. A candy maker threw in some free samples of fudge. A local mine even gave us some raw rocks that they grind into talc...along with ruler, pens, pencils. Another local politician running for office gave out free American flags.

We were in hog heaven with all the goodies and we got to see all kinds of livestock and eat that great, greasy fair food while watching some country and western concerts. It was a great day and we met a lot of friendly local folks.

After the fair we ate dinner at McKenzie River Pizza in the beautifully restored downtown area of Bozeman, where some workers recognized us from the fair earlier. It was good pizza and even better beer.

Tonight would be our last night at the lodge. We had one more open-air night before our last breakfast with Ruth.

A deer walked by one foot outside the dining room window while we at our morning meal and a marmot rooted around outside. Before it got too cute, Ruth whispered to us that the marmot was a pest and she would have to shoot it if it returned. Ah, the ways of the Montana cattle ranch life.

Stay tuned for part 2...Yellowstone!

-Darryl
Copyright 2002 - Darryl Musick

CLASSIC TRIP: England, Ireland, Belgium 2005 - Part 2

Blarney Castle

Previously, terrorists had bombed London and transportation was in a chaotic state..

On to Ireland. From our hotel, it’s a quick bus ride to Fullham-Broaday Underground station. The District Line takes us two stops to Earl’s Court station where we change to the Picadilly Line to Heathrow.

At the airport, we just change to the Heathrow Express train to get to Terminal 4, home of Aer Lingus. Everything at Heathrow involves a very long walk and this is no exception. On top of that, security barriers placed about 24 inches apart block entrance to the train platform. There is no signage for wheelchairs as to how to proceed.

We find an employee who uses a key to remove a security barrier allowing us to proceed to the train platform. A quick ride and we’re at Terminal 4.

Heathrow is one of the world’s busiest airports. This is made obvious when you enter the check in area and thousands of people are milling about. We find the Aer Lingus check-in counter and proceed through the process. After this, we head to security to go to the departure hall.

One thing I don’t like about Heathrow is that you are not told what gate you will be departing from. You must watch the departure monitors and about a hour before your flight, the gate number will be posted there. Until then, you wait in the departure hall.

At Heathrow, this is really just a very crowded shopping mall with very limited seating. If you want to shop, I guess it’s ok. If you just want to rest until your flight, you’re pretty much out of luck.

As our luck would have it, our flight was delayed. It wasn’t until two hours later that the departure gate was listed and then it was another very long walk to the gate (forty minutes). By the time we arrived, boarding was commencing and the helpers were no where to be found. Of course, this made us last to be boarded and the crew insisted that our son Tim have a window seat (in the back of the plane) which turned out to be just impossible to accomplish due to the very limited room between the seats and his weight (145 lbs.)

A stalemate developed between the crew and us. They wanted us to take another flight that wasn’t so full where the seating could be more properly arranged. We didn’t. This flight was already two hours late and counting. The captain had to come out and give his ok that Tim could have an aisle seat instead.

Once we pushed back and took off, it was about forty minutes to Cork in southern Ireland. Cork, at this point in time, has no jetways (construction is under way so this will change soon). Instead, we had to wait on board until the food service truck arrived. We were deplaned on the food service truck.

This was one of the worst flights, with matching service, that I’ve ever encountered. In addition to the previous, everything on board…from peanuts and soda to wine and beer…has to be purchased at high prices. Luckily, it’s a short flight.

Everybody has a bad day, and I’m hoping that’s the case this time, but this whole experience will be repeated almost exactly in three more days.

Finally, off of the plane. The airport personnel, including customs and immigration, are very competent and friendly. We quickly clear the passport control (Ireland uses a cool green ink for their stamp) and pick up our rental car from Hertz. It’s a nice SEAT wagon with room in the back for the chair, CD, radio, and A/C. It has a manual transmission which means that I will be doing all the driving (auto costs an extra $100)

For this portion of our trip, we’ll be staying in Limerick, about an hour’s drive north of Cork. More on that later.

After leaving the airport and finding our route with only one minor misdirection, we head north on the motorway to our first stop, Blarney.

The motorway to Blarney is a modern superhighway but once we exit, we get our first taste of typical Irish roads. Wow! It must be a real adventure to be a passenger while driving on these roads. I wouldn’t know because for a driver used to American roads, it’s just terrifying.
Most of the roads here are very narrow, maybe one to one-and-a-half of a lane wide when compare to U.S. roads. About 90% of these roads have no shoulders, only tall hedges or stone walls block all view around turns. Oh yeah, they are two-way roads that have many large trucks, tourist buses, and farm equipment using them. When arriving in a town, the hedges and walls are replaced by vehicles parked on both sides. Usually, these vehicles are parked half on the sidewalk with the other half in the road. Some towns we encountered also had festivals or flea markets that also took place in these still open roads.

So, for the remainder of this report, we’ll just boil the above paragraph to the above code when encountering the Irish roads: Irish road…AAHHH!

Blarney is our first Irish village (Cork is a large and modern city). It’s a pretty as you’d expect. Once through the town, you drive down a small driveway to the car park for Blarney Castle. The castle is located in a large park, which has a nominal entry fee of 7 Euros. There are not a lot of facilities here for wheelchair users. Consequently, disabled and one care giver (carer) are free so we ended up only paying one admission.

From studying up on the castle’s web site, it seemed that the famous Blarney Stone was up on the second story. Just maybe, I thought, I could man-handle Tim up there so he could kiss it but reality is much different.

Actually, it’s about ten stories to the top of the castle…a long, arduous climb up worn, slippery, small, narrow, circular stone staircases with only a rope dropped down the center to steady yourself. There is no way to get someone who cannot walk up ot the top.

My wife and I took turns going up while the other kept Tim company at the bottom. If you can get to the top, what you’re rewarded with is a grand view of the park and countryside and, of course, the right to kiss the stone.

Darryl Kissing the Blarney Stone

Legend has it that this stone was the pillow that Jacob layed his head on when he had his dream of the ladder going to heaven. It is supposed to impart magical powers upon those who kiss it. Specifically, you’re granted the gift of eloquence, or the “gift of gab.”

You cannot just go up and kiss it. You must do it properly. This involves laying on your back, staring up to the sky, and bending your head back to kiss it upside down. There is about a one foot gap (protected by iron bars) to stretch across the void to the ground far below. A gentleman there will steady you. It is good form to leave him a Euro or two for a tip. A photographer will snap that instant of the kiss and you can buy a copy on your way out. You can also bring your own camera for free.

Almost as daunting as the climb up is the climb down, against traffic. I really felt for the dad whose son got to afraid to continue and had to carry him down.

We also noticed about this time that it was really warm here. No, not just warm, hot.

Accompanying this was heavy humidity. It really felt like Charleston in August. I have been assured that this is very rare for Ireland and we just happen to hit it during this heat wave.

Gingerly, I drive back toward the motorway to continue to Limerick. Maybe ten miles later, the motorway fades into a two lane road for the rest of the way.

Following the hotel’s directions, we end up on the west side of town driving along the River Shannon into the city. We eventually found our hotel but with difficulty. I think the directions could have basically said the hotel was in the heart of the city next to the bridge and it would have been easier.

We are at another Jury’s Inn. This room is not as big or luxurious as the one in London. The accessible room could only sleep two but, to their credit, the management gave us an adjoining room for no extra charge so it was like having a suite. The only amenity missing from this room as compared to London was air conditioning. I’m told this usually isn’t a problem here but there is that pesky matter of the hot and humid heat wave we’re currently experiencing.

Location is great, right in the middle of the city, across the street from the river. There’s a nice pub, Schooner’s, next to an excellent Italian restaurant right on the river, across from the hotel.

Having Drinks at Schooners

In the summer, the day ends after 10:00pm so sundown drinks at the pub last well into the night. We had dinner, drinks, and came back to bed. At 11:30pm on this Sunday night…right outside our open (due to no A/C) window…road workers commenced jack hammering in the street. Oy, what a racket. They finished around 2:00am. At 4:00am, a group of drunks started singing very loudly on the sidewalk.

DAY SIX
With but a few hours of sleep under our belt, we make our way north heading for the Cliffs of Moher along the coast south of Galway. Along the way, we get into a big traffic jam in the town of Ennis. The bad thing about traffic jams here is that there is usually no alternat route. There is one road through town. In it’s defense, it appears that Ennis is building a bypass that will alleviate this in the future.

The reason for the traffic today is because there is a big hurling match going on. What is hurling? Haven’t got a clue, but a bit more on that later.

After we edge through the jam, we make a stop at Knappogue Castle. According to my pre-trip research, this is the most accessible castle I could find in Ireland that allows visitors. We pass through the very pretty village of Quinn, home to some impressive church ruins, and pull into the castle’s grounds just beyond.

It’s a quiet day here, I think only two other groups of visitors are here. We pay the entrance fee and a groundskeeper deploys a ramp so we can get in the front door. Being over 500 years old, access wasn’t included in the original build out so only the first floor is accessible. On this floor, you get to see the main hall with it’s large fireplace, the large banquet room, and a view of the chapel. Upstairs, there is a personal chapel and another ballroom.

Knappogue Castle

It is dark and smoky smelling in the main entry hall. Eerily, my camera won’t work in flash mode and I can’t get a good picture. As soon as I’m out of the castle, it works. Take it back inside, no flash. I have no explanation as to why this is.

The groundskeeper takes us on a little tour of the first floor and then accompanies me up to the top of the castle to show me some of the features up there. There are picture-postcard perfect views from the top of the surrounding Irish countryside with emerald green rolling hills dotted with cows.

After spending an hour or two here, we hop back in our little rental car and continue on arriving at the seaside village of Lahinch.

Due to the unrelenting heat wave, it seems that everybody in Ireland does just what we’d do in America on a hot, humid day…head to the beach. There is jammed traffic with cars parked everywhere restricting the already narrow roads. Gingerly, we make our way through it and continue on the short drive to the Cliffs of Moher. Massive crowds, many tour buses and not a parking spot to be found greet us. We also note the long, unpaved trail up to the top of the cliffs and reluctantly come to the conclusion that this just won’t be possible to see. It takes another five miles until we can find a spot wide enough for us to turn around.

Not wanting to completely waste the trip, lunch is had at the village of Kilconnel, overlooking Liscannor Bay and Lahinch. The food, pasta mainly, is very good.

Remembering the intense traffic in Ennis for the hurling match, I opt to take the coastal route instead. Lazily, we wind around the western Irish coast until we make it to the River Shannon. It’s not long until we reach the ferry crossing at Killimer. A twenty-minute cruise across this beautiful waterway and we alight in Tarbert, just a short drive along the river’s south bank back to Limerick.

DAY SEVEN
Adare proclaims itself the “prettiest village in Ireland.” That’s quite a claim considering the many charms of every Irish village we’ve been to. We have to take a look and it’s only about an hour’s drive from Limerick.

It’s an early start today and we decide we’ll get breakfast when we get there. Just after the massive Adare Manor hotel (looks like an awesome place to stay), we cross the river next to the castle ruins, and – just like that – we’re in the heart of Adare.

It is indeed beautiful with its block of preserved thatch-roofed houses and pretty park with the creek running through it. It seems we’re about half-an-hour early for anything to be open though.

The only place we find for breakfast is a little counter inside the visitor’s center that serves good food but not with the smiles we’ve so far encountered on our visit.

After eating, we walk through the town shopping and snapping pictures. That’s about the gist of it. Once the place opened up, it was pretty much taken over by the tour buses and the hoards they dispensed. We were now two for three with major Irish sites we wanted to see; loved Castle Blarney, disappointed in Cliffs of Moher and Adare.

We continued on to drive through the nearby countryside with a minor goal or reaching Tipperary. It’s not so much we wanted to see the small city of Tipperary, just that on the map it seemed like there was much Irish countryside to go through along the way. Indeed, in this case it was not the destination that mattered but the journey.

This was the best decision of the Irish leg of our trip. As soon as we let go of the recommendations of friends, guidebooks, and travel web sites, Ireland opened up to us as it had so far eluded us.

Village upon beautiful village greeted us as we went along. Castles, ruins of castles, ruins of abbeys, and little Irish rivers greeted us around every turn devoid of other tourists. A stop in a random pub was an invitation to make a new Irish friend. Finally, we’d found the Ireland we’d come to see.

Bruree, Ireland

Not long before we’d reach Tipperary, we crested a hill and had to pull over at the absolutely breathtaking vista that greeted us. Thankfully, the townsfolk here had built a small parking area and picnic tables at this very spot.

Words cannot describe this but I’ll give it a try. Black draft horses with shiny coats grazed on the grassy hillside in front of a sparkling river full of rapids and a tiny little canyon (maybe fifty feet long) full of little waterfalls. On the far bank, small houses painted in many colors faced us. At the east end of this village was the remains of an ancient castle, a turret covered in vines. At the other end was an old stone millhouse, its large water wheel long since retired but resting peacefully on the side of the building. The river makes a lazy, horseshoe turn around the old mill, cascading over the rocks as a local boy dips a line in to see if he can catch a fish.  This is the village of Bruree.

Idyllic Scene at Bruree

I just wanted to stop and stay here the rest of the day. As we were sitting in our little grassy spot, a local stopped by and invited us to the town’s little museum. We didn’t make it there but whiled away the time talking to the local gentleman before moving along.

In Tipperary, a pretty large city by Irish standards, lunch is gathered up at a collection of stands surrounding a parkling lot just off of the main street. Our plan is to head generally back toward the direction of Limerick and find a lonely castle to picnic at. It’s not long before we find it along the side of the road sitting in a small, grassy field net to a cow pasture.

Our Picnic Spot

This is the Ireland we’ve come to find. Picture postcard villages and ruined castles to lazily snack in front of. Friendly locals and lively pubs. All devoid of tour buses and hordes of people.

Back in Limerick, we visit St. John’s castle, an imposing fortress over the River Shannon. About half of the castle, really more of a fort, is accessible for wheelers but a major obstacle is the large courtyard which is covered in loose gravel. A lift takes you to the museum on the second floor and docents bring inaccessible exhibits out to disabled patrons. In our case, a docent brought out the exhibit on minting coins which is located in the basement of one of the turrets.
The evening is spent again having drinks at schooners while a local band entertains the pub crowd. This was our perfect day in Ireland, and also our last

It's not over yet, come back and have a beer with us as we travel to Belgium for part 3.

-Darryl
Copyright 2009 - Darryl Musick
All Rights Reserved

CLASSIC TRIP: England, Ireland, Belgium 2005 - Part 1

Aftermath of Bombing

Picture courtesy of Wikimedia

Francis Tyers under CC BY-SA 3.0 license

Just about 16 years ago...on July 6, 2005...the IOC met in Singapore to award the 2012 Olympics to the chosen city. We were in London that day and there were a lot of celebrations...then the next day, the world turned on its head.   Read on to see what happened when we were in London, July 2005...

It was to be a memorable time to be in the city.

Our airline for the LAX to Heathrow portion this time was American Airlines. The service was good and the seats were wider and more comfortable than the last trip we took on Virgin Atlantic. For us, comfort and adequate service beat out Virgin’s amenities which include better service, better food, and vastly better entertainment enroute.

Our hotel for this first leg of the trip was Jury’s Inn in Chelsea…just a couple of miles west of the heart of London. Jury’s Inn is part of the Jurys Doyle chain, an Irish company that has hotels throughout the British Isles. It is in a very quiet area that is being built up on top of the old gas works. It’s a quick bus ride to the shops and pubs of Chelsea and the accessible Fullham-Broadway Underground station which provides quick links to the rest of the city.

The room featured a double bed with a fold out sofabed that would sleep three adults in comfort. Air conditioning, cable TV, radio rounded out the standard amenities. The room was large by European standards (about the size of an average budget U.S. motel room), well laid out, and featured a very large bathroom with a roll-in shower. Our cost was £59 per night (about $80 US)

DAY ONE
A bus ride to the Fulham-Broadway tube station. A ride on the district line to Westminster station. A ride on the Jubilee line to the Kilburn station. Finally, another bus ride to Abbey Road.

Londoner’s may be sad that the old Roadmaster double-deckers are being retired, but wheelchair users aren’t. The new replacements…double-decker, articulated, or smaller regular buses…are wonderfully accessible. A ramp deploys from the back door and a space is reserved.

This round-a-bout journey is what it takes to get a wheelchair from our hotel in Chelsea (Jury’s Inn) to the Beatles studio located at 3 Abbey Road, a ways north of Hyde Park.

Our first stop on this trip is to recreate the picture in the crosswalk that graces the cover of the Beatles Abbey Road album. We take notice of the studio in the smallish, neat white building just to the north of the crosswalk and read the grafitti on the wall in front and the road sign across the street.

Mainly a spot to take pictures, there is not a whole lot more to do here so we walk towards Lord’s Cricket Ground nearby. Tours are being given but at this time the sky opens up and a heavy, cold rain begins to fall.

We decide it’s time to take this journey indoors.

I hail a taxi and we head over to Harrod’s.

The famous department store is huge – get a map at the information counter near the northeastern entrance. Five floors of expensive clothes, appliances, furniture and more. The food hall is impressively expansive, drool inducing, and expensive. The seating, along counters, is unfortunately not friendly to the wheelchair user. It is a little telling that the most crowded counter was the Krispy Kreme stall.

The rest of the store’s departments are housed in smaller rooms. They were having a big sale that day. I remember as we passed through the women’s clothing department a rack of blouses that were 50% off. I checked the price of a random blouse. It had indeed been priced at half off. The original price of 800 pounds ($1,416) was now 400 ($708).

Luckily, there is not a charge to go in and look.

DAY TWO
It’s Wednesday, July 6th. We’re at Covent Garden passing time until the matinee performance of the Producer’s starts up the street.

A limbo dancer is entertaining the crowds for tips when a group of fighter jets roar low overhead. It is at his precise moment, thousands of miles away in Singapore, that the International Olympic Committee announces that London has been awarded the summer Olympic games for 2012. The jets, streaming red, white, and blue smoke are part of the celebration taking place a few blocks away at Trafalgar Square.

It is a joyous moment.

We go on to see our play. The wheelchair seating is excellent, twelve rows back from the stage. The staff at the theatre is also excellent and one usher is assigned to us to take care of all our needs such as getting to the restroom and even bringing drinks in. The play itself is quite good and funny. Ticket prices, as they always are in London, are a bargain compared to Broadway. Less than $100 for all three tickets.

We have found that for matinees, you really don’t need to plan that far in advance except for the most popular shows, early in their runs. I called upon arrival in London and easily reserved three tickets to this show which I picked up at Will Call. Previous trips I have used e-mail from the states, which turned out not to be really necessary. You may want to call direct a couple of weeks ahead of time if you want to go on a traditionally busy time such as Friday or Saturday night.

After the play, we start hitting pubs and celebrate the culmination of the years long struggle to get the Olympics with London’s locals. We end the evening at the Bar Room Bar on King’s Road having pizza and shooting pool with the regulars.

DAY THREE
This is the day we are to go see the Royal Observatory in Greenwich. While getting ready, Tim notes that the BBC is reporting an explosion in the Liverpool Street Underground station. BBC is reporting that it was caused by an eletrical surge.

All cleaned up, we catch a bus to Fulham-Broadway to start our day. Not having had any breakfast and noticing that there is a Starbuck’s in the station, we strong-coffee starved Americans decide to have some coffee and muffins to start our day.

At the counter, the server asks if I want it for here or to take away. Not really thinking about it, I say it’s for here and our coffee comes in ceramic mugs. My wife, not too pleased with this, asks why I didn’t take it to go so we could just take it with us on the train. I don’t really have an answer and we take a few minutes to drink our coffee before leaving.

After we finish, we head over to the station nearby down the hall. The worker there is closing the gate over the front of the station and putting a sign up outside that says “Entire Underground closed due to security alert.”

The crowds gather outside and I keep hearing more talk about the electrical surge. We go out front and try to catch a bus into London but no driver will let us on. Frankly, I’m starting to get a little PO’d at this but calmer heads prevail and we head back to the hotel where maybe we can catch a water taxi.

Since we’re there, we decide to stop at our room and go to the bathroom before continuing on. Tim turns on the TV and there is the bright red banner on the BBC with a large and frightening caption: “TERRORISTS BOMB THE UNDERGROUND”

Much like US crisis reporting, many rumors abound while facts are being gathered. First, it’s an explosion near King’s Cross. Then it’s six explosions throughout London. Soon it’s up to seven. There is a rumor that a bus has just been blown apart. At least two people are “reported” dead with many injured. Now it’s up to four dead.

Within the hour, London’s police chief is on the air saying that everybody needs to just stay where they are…do not travel at all. All Underground and bus service has been halted.
Of course, now we know that four bombs went off that day. Three in the Underground and one in a bus killing 56 and injuring hundreds more.

While it was probably planned to coincide with the G8 summit taking place at the same time, it was sheer coincidence that Rudy Guilani just happened to be eating breakfast about a block away from one of the explosion sites.

For us, most of the day is spent in the hotel bar where a big screen is set up on the BBC and the stranded guests watch the horrible news. Later that evening, local bus service in Chelsea is running again so we’re able to go about a half-mile into town to have a pub dinner.

Trapped on the Underground

Picture courtesy of Wikimedia

Adam Stacey under CC BY 2.5 license

Although stuck at the hotel and the surrounding are for the day and having our trip to Greenwich cancelled, we are very thankful that we took a few extra minutes before boarding the train. I would hate to think of trying to evacuate the Underground at non-accessible station or, even worse, through a tunnel.

It was a sad day but the locals put up a good front, were still friendly (although understandably miffed at the perpatrators), and the hotel staff very understanding. Besides the direct victims, those who got the worst of it were the thousands of London workers who had to walk many miles home that night.

DAY FOUR
The rallying cry throughout the city today is get back to what your’re doing. Don’t let them shut us down. London is open, come and enjoy. This is what you can do to support us.

Back on the Tube at Fulham Broadway

With that in mind, we took to the streets and underground and continued on. Today, we take the tube from Fulham Broadway to Wimbledon. This is actually one station beyond the famous tennis club but the closest accessible station. We are able to catch an accessible bus from the station wich drops us off immediately in front of the All England Lawn Tennis Club.

There is a museum here with many tennis artifacts such as the Wimbledon trophy, shoes, rackets, clothes (all worn and autographed by such stars as Venus Williams and Boris Becker), plus representations of Wimbledon over the years. There is a well-stocked gift shop but the highlight is actually going downstairs to visit Centre Court, home to the Wimbledon tennis tournament finals.

Centre Court, Wimbledon

Wheelchair users are escorted by a security guard and are able to get right up to the edge of the grass. The Royal Box is pointed out. We were there just about a week or so after the tournament ended and noticed the worn spots of grass that were reminders of what had taken place here recently.

Back on the tube, we navigated back to Fulham Broadway where we catch another train to Kew Gardens. It’s an accessible station here but on arrival, wheelchair users must take a two-block detour, cross a traffic bridge, and then continue on about three blocks to the gardens entrance. Upon departing, you do not have to make the two-block detour to the station.

Kew Gardens is a fantastic and large botanic park. It is a royal palace and the grounds seemingly go on forever. There are many highlights here and there is no way we can see them all.

Today, we concentrate on the large, glass hothouses which contain tropical plants from around the world. The day we were there came in the middle of an exhibit of original works by glass sculptor Dale Chihuly. His works were extraordinary and were scattered around the grounds and mixed in with the plants in the greenhouses. Of particular interest were the large chandeliers hung in each of the greenhouses.

There is a nice cafeteria here where you can dine on pastas, sandwiches, fruit and wash them down with a glass of wine or a bottle of ale.

This is our last full day in London, tomorrow we move on. We have a dinner at the Rose, a local Chelsea pub, and call it a day.

...Stay tuned for Part 2 and the Emerald Isle.
 
-Darryl
Copyright 2009 - Darryl Musick
All Rights Reserved

Classic Trip: Seattle, Washington - Part 2

(Please read our Covid 19 Statement first - Ed) We'd saw some overpriced baseball, met some TV stars, watched big fish swimming underwater, and just missed having to be evacuated from a monorail.

The next morning, we decide to walk downtown. A bit of a mistake when we pass a rough section where drug deals are taking place out in the open and a couple of guys start to fight because one thinks the other shorted him out of a couple of rocks of crack. It’s just a short strip down the wrong street but next time we’ll get back on the bus instead.

At the ferry terminal, we buy our tickets and take a 30 minute trip across the sound to
Bainbridge Island. It’s about a half mile walk from the ferry terminal to the middle of town…there are also buses if you can’t walk that far…where we find a delightful little farmers market going on with some unusual fruit and vegetables. We buy some to make a picnic with later. Down at the waterfront, we find a boardwalk and dirt trail along the water that allows us to hike about half a mile up an inlet where we see some old ferries being mothballed, many blooming flowers, birds, and some beautiful houses.

Back in town, we buy some burgers to go with our fruit for a waterfront picnic.

After spending the morning in Bainbridge, it’s back on the boat. My wife wants some seafood, which curiously, we cannot find a whole lot of here. Some guides suggest Ivar’s, near the ferry terminal, so we head to an outdoor counter there where you can buy food to eat in a nearby dining area.


Ordering here is unique…basically there is no line, no system. Everybody crowds in and when the order taker is ready, everybody just kind of shouts their orders in at the same time. I’m told this is just the traditional way to do it here. We do eventually get our food but it is very chaotic and confusing…not really my cup of tea. The food is good, but it is heavy on the “deep fried” variety of seafood.


Earlier in the week, we walked through the Seattle Center where the Space Needle is located. We had learned that it would be $16 just to take a ride up in the elevator. That’s quite steep. I also learned there are a couple of alternatives.

The circa 1914 Smith tower (of Smith/Corona typewriter fame) near Pioneer Square is one of them. Just a bit shorter than the Space Needle (522 feet vs. 605 feet), the observation deck is actually 2 feet higher than the Space Needle, which has a deck at 520 feet. It’s only $7.50 to go up here to the famous Chinese room and to step out into the fresh air.


It’s very beautiful up there, and it’s not just the view. The owners have amassed a collection
of Chinese antiques and furnishings to enhance the surroundings. A chair up there is supposed to grant magical powers to single women that sit in it…they are to find their groom after doing so.


It is at this point where I’d usually say we went back, had another nice night in the hotel, and went back home but there is one more adventure that would await us. I called the same taxi company that brought us from the airport and reserved an accessible cab for noon the next day to take us back.


At noon, waiting in the rain in front of the hotel…nothing. At 12:20, I called the cab company and asked where the cab was. The man on the phone said, quote, “just because you reserved a cab doesn’t mean one will show up.” When I asked for an ETA, he hung up the phone somewhere between the letters T and A.



Where I come from a reservation means they will set aside the item to be reserved. Also, when a paying customer calls and…politely I might add…asks where the item to be reserved is and when it will be there, you don’t hang up on them.


We had a problem; the airport is 15 miles away on the other side of town. We had no idea when, or even if, our ride would get there. We had one slim chance to get out of town in time to make our 2:40 flight.


Grabbing our bags, we hoofed it to the busiest bus corner about two blocks away. When a bus pulled up, we ask the driver the quickest route to get to the airport. She said, “hop on.”

At Pioneer Square, she dropped us off at the Downtown Transit Tunnel and told us to catch a bus down there (the transit tunnel is like a subway, only used by buses instead). We find the bus, get on, and make it to the airport about an hour before departure. Indeed, Seattle transit workers are the nicest and most accommodating we’ve ever encountered…they really saved the day, and our vacation, by their actions.


As I’m waiting in the departure lounge, my cell phone rings. It’s the taxi driver. He’s in front of the hotel, wondering where the hell I am. I said to him “do you know what your dispatcher did to me when I called?” He said no. I pressed the disconnect button.


Darryl
Copyright 2009 - Darryl Musick
All Rights Reserved

Shelter in Place De Ja Vu: Memories of Travel Lockdowns

Living in this time of Covid 19 related lockdowns, shelter-in-place, safer-at-home, or whatever you'd like to call this quasi-quarantine, we sit in our homes doing our best to keep from getting a bad case of cabin fever and dreaming of what we're going to do once we're allowed to live normal lives again.

While sitting here wondering, I am reminded of at least two times we lived under government imposed shelter-in-place orders while we were traveling. It's not like now, where we're sitting here at home for 23 hours a day (I like to go out for a little officially approved, socially-distanced exercize each day) for at least 7 weeks and counting...these only lasted for a day but did give us a little taste of what it would be like when the virus hit the fan this spring.

One time happened just last September when we visited Nova Scotia in the Maritimes of eastern Canada.

Watching hurricane Dorian ravage the Bahamas on the news was one thing. It was another a few days later into our vacation in Halifax that we were surprised that the storm's track took it far to the north and the next landfall bullseye was directly on the city we were now staying in.

Life went on as usual in Halifax for a couple of days. That started to change the day before predicted landfall as we saw restaurants and other businesses on the waterfront starting to board up windows. A floating pedestrian bridge was removed, and a parade of naval vessels greeted us as all the ships from a large, nearby base headed out to find safer waters.

We check with the manager of our hotel as to what we should do, especially as we were staying on the 10th floor with a wheelchair user. Assured that there was onsite power generation and that inside the hotel, things would operate as normal, we prepared by buying a ton of snacks and a few microwavable meals to tide us over.

Tomorrow, the city would be on lockdown. Like now, you were to shelter in place and not leave your building. You could go out if you really wanted...there was no law against it...but it was highly discouraged and you were let known in no uncertain terms that it was at your risk and...if you were out, got injured, or even died...that it would be too bad and your fault if something happened to you.

We hunkered down, the building shook a bit, the windows rattled, the cable TV and internet went out a couple of times but, other than boredom, we came through it fine. A few times, we'd go to the lobby and walk around just for a change of pace and one time, I went a few feet out the front door just to see what the force of the wind felt like.

For the next few days, we lived with the aftereffects. Power was out in most of the city, stores and restaurants were mostly closed (I did find a microbrewery near the hotel doing business by candlelight and cash only), and there was a lot of trees and a tall crane down. On the plus side, no one was killed or injured.

Picture courtesy of Wikimedia

Adam Stacey under CC BY 2.5 license

The other time was a more serious and deadly lockdown. The time was in London in the summer of 2005.

The day started out like any other and we were going to head out to see the observatory at Greenwich, which meant a significant journey by tube from our hotel in Chelsea.

After stopping for a cup of coffee at a Starbucks located in the station, we went to make our way to the platform only to be turned away by staff closing the gates. Buses outside were also refusing to take on passengers.

Our only option at that point was to go back to our hotel and see what else we could do. Of course, back in our room, Tim turned on the TV and we found out the problem...terrorists had set off bombs in the Underground and on a bus, killing many people.

The city was shut down. Everybody was ordered to stay right where they were. Many people already at work in the busy city had to walk home, some for many miles.

Our hotel fed us and set up some large TVs in the lobby so we could follow along with our fellow guests the events of the day. Like now, we could go outside and take a stroll through our immediate area. We walked the short distance from our hotel to the nearby banks of the River Thames where we could look towards the city and see hundreds of people, walking home over the bridges.

The Queen said we should stand up to the terrorists and get back at them by living life like normal so the next day, the Underground and the buses were back. Businesses were open, and...although shocked and saddened...the residents (and tourists) in London went on with their lives.

Now, we're faced with another, invisible foe who is not going to let us go after a day. It's tough...we've got to keep fed, well, and deal with unforeseen incidents while trying not to leave our homes...but most people are healthy. They're bored and grumpy but healthy.

It's just patience we need as we try to get through this very long enforced stay at home.

Darryl Musick
Copyright 2020 - All Rights Reserved