London | Day N° 14 | Belgravia and Hyde Park

Here begins my last full weekend in London. Next Thursday, my dearest Eli, who I haven't seen in three months, is coming to join me in London for three days, and then we depart for a tour of France!! I'm so excited to see her, to show her my beloved city, and to travel to new lands together! But I don't even want to think about leaving.... I love it here.

Today when I woke, I decided I'd go do some reading for my class (and blogging!) at Patisserie Valerie in Belgravia, after a friend recommended the cafe. Unfortunately, the Piccadilly line (one of the main Underground lines that runs through central London, and the one that I rely on most) was closed for the weekend, and I had to work my way around on various trains to get to Victoria Station, which is right behind Buckingham Palace Gardens and on the east side of Belgravia.

For those of you who don't live in London, don't watch BBC's Sherlock, and aren't familiar with luxury international real estate, Belgravia is the residential area behind Buckingham Palace Gardens. It's ranked by some as the most expensive residential area in the world, where flats (flats) can go for tens of millions of pounds. And, it is the setting for my favourite episode of television ever, 'A Scandal in Belgravia' from Sherlock. I was obviously in so much awe to see these beautiful (and expensive) homes and gardens... Honestly, I was geeking out!!    

Just the neighbourhood Louboutin shop

I strolled around for an hour or so before settling outside at Patisserie Valerie, to have a smoked salmon salad and then tea and scones.  The reverie was somewhat soiled by two American women who sat down at the next cafe over and were so loud that they attracted the glares and raised eyebrows of the hushed Brits, French, and Arabs that were also eating nearby. No wonder they think so badly of us Americans - every day I find another reason why I should be embarrassed by other Americans abroad, who are generally loud and inconsiderate (though often through ignorance, not on purpose).

One example: two days ago, all the residents of my small suite in High Holborn received letters warning us of complaints about our suite: the night before around 3 am, the two American boys who live in my suite had been drunkenly banging on each other's doors for hours and shouting profanities up from the street below, then vomiting in the hallway and leaving beer cans on the floors for the housekeepers to clean up. I was furious. How can people be so rude and oblivious? How can they care so little about others, and themselves? These are students who are studying at LSE, taking very difficult, world-class courses, and somehow manage to drink themselves to obscenity almost every night. It's beyond my understanding. Anyway, the sweet (and quiet) European girl who lives on my floor complained, among others, and I'm just beyond embarrassed to be grouped together with these stupid, selfish, oblivious Americans.

Anyway, after leaving the outdoor cafe and loud women behind, I went in pursuit of the Belgravia home of Irene Adler ('The Woman'), made famous by BBC's Sherlock. I'm very much in love with Sherlock and Irene and, being a geek, it was of huge importance for me to visit the spot where the show had been filmed. I jealously passed blocks of stately, gorgeous flats, all white with black doors and black rails and second-floor balcony gardens. The whole area was very quiet and peaceful, particularly for a Saturday afternoon. Almost no one was out and about. Actually, it was a little bit upsetting because each of these squares has a fantastic, beautifully kept private garden at its centre, with paths, benches shaded by huge trees, tennis courts, fountains, and statues - but no one was using them! It was a gorgeous sunny Saturday afternoon, and none of the residents were out enjoying their gardens or beautiful neighbourhood. I suppose most can take it for granted.

After a bit of walking I found Eaton Square, which is the street used for Irene Adler's home in Sherlock. Of course, it was stunning, and I was way beyond excited to see the place they staged her luxuriant boudoir. There was also a perfect little park directly across the street from her flat, with a little pool and palm trees. I creepily walked back and forth in front of no. 44 for a couple minutes, humming 'On the Street Where You Live' to myself, until I saw a security officer strolling a ways down the street and scampered off. I'm such a nerd, but it was wonderful. I would give anything to live in this neighbourhood... though no matter what I gave, it could never be enough! It's such a peaceful, truly beautiful, and elegant place, but the residents pay well to have it that way. I wish the gardens were open so that I could just come to sit and read. There's a tranquility here that one can't find elsewhere in central London.          

When I'd finished stalking the fictional Irene Adler, I walked up Sloane Street (which marks the western boundary of Belgravia) past all the luxury stores (including a baby Dior...). For your reference, the automobile demographic of this area consists of Audis, Mercedes, and BMWs, with a smattering of Porsches, Ferraris, Bentleys, and Aston Martins (actually, more than a dozen Aston Martins, more than I've ever seen in one place), a Maserati, and a single, very loud, and very beautiful McLaren. I kept stopping in the middle of traffic to gape. There are a large number of embassies in the area, which I hadn't expected, and a significant Muslim population, which I had expected. Here and in Knightsbridge (the luxe shopping area surrounding Harrods), it's quite common to see women not only wearing a hijab but a full burqa. Though I studied Arabic for four years, this is interesting for me because in the US, you will never, ever see a woman walking around in a burqa. Here, it's quite common, not only in the luxury shopping areas but around the city, on the train, etc. I don't remark on this with the intention of singling them out or discriminating, but instead to comment on the difference in acceptance between the US and Europe.  Many Americans consider all Muslims to be dangerous or extremists, which is completely untrue, but perhaps somewhat understandable because we are not at all exposed to their culture. Here, a more significant proportion of the population is Muslim, and the Brits are accustomed to their presence and culture. It's just very interesting and different, especially when I imagine the way Americans would react if they saw a group of women walking through a shopping mall or into a train wearing the burqa.

Knightsbridge and Belgravia both run along the southern border of Hyde Park, so I passed through on my way up to the Lancaster Gate tube station at the northern edge of the park. It was lovely but packed with people and pigeons, of course. Here, pigeons fill the streets and parks in the place of our squirrels in the US. I saw my first squirrel today at Hyde Park, a single little guy, almost tame from being fed by all the people. I had to laugh when two girls (who were clearly not from the US) squealed and froze in terror when he went scampering past them - to them I guess he was an oddity.

To me, the swans were the best part of Hyde Park. This is a creature that we don't see often in the US, and they're so large and handsome. In the UK, all swans legally belong to the Queen, no matter whose property they're on. There were dozens swimming in the lake at Hyde Park, along with the geese and ducks and paddleboats. Of course, there were many hundreds of people, but I was surprised to find a peaceful little swimming area and cafe to one side of the lake. There's also a beautiful and unique monument to Princess Diana in the park: a shallow fountain running eternally in a circle, with little waterfalls, but shallow enough that people can dip their feet and children can splash in the water.

Every day, I am so happily surprised by the beautiful things I find in this city. After experiencing something new, like the London Eye or Belgravia or a particular garden or cafe or bookstore, I marvel that I didn't know about this wonderful thing before. I wish I had the time to explore more of this city, but it's depressing to think that I only have a week left. I'll do my best to experience everything I can in the next week, but I like to think of it as making note of places that I can return to in the future, when I come back to London one day - hopefully in the not-too-distant future!!