Maybe I was A Tour Guide In A Past Life

It is somewhat abnormal, the enjoyment I get out of touring people around my current hometown. Just based on the amount of photos I’ve posted to Facebook since I moved here, I’m sure this doesn’t come as much of a surprise. But besides running my own unofficial tours, I still consider myself to be a tourist in a lot of ways, since this is the kind of city it takes many, many years to really know.

I have been lucky enough to have a few visitors act as guinea pigs as I craft my favourite routes around the city. Since I moved here in September, the fortunate victims have included: Kelly Wyatt (twice and thus Friend of the Year), Steve Marriner, Brian and Mary, Lexie Buchanan and Julia Thompson. Each of these visitors has gotten my special brand of London wandering, whether they wanted it or not. Favourite Thames-side landmarks, museums and galleries, parks and theatre have all been stops along the way.

And now it’s my Mom’s turn. She arrived in London last Friday, the final stop in her three-week traipse around Europe with her four sisters. Before she, and my aunt Mary Lou (ML), flew from Nice to London, they had spent some time in Paris, Venice and Rome, relaxed in a Tuscan villa for a week with day-trips to Florence, Siena, San Gimignano and Pisa, hiked around the five villages of Cinque Terre, and drove through the French Riviera. I was burning with jealousy, even though a similar route with my own sister was some of the best weeks of the Great Backpacking Adventure of 2004.

With guided tours around Italy and France, I was confidant that Mom and ML were well-trained for the kind of excursions I had in mind. The only problem was, with more than two months of sitting in an office (and my idea of footwear more stylish than practical), it turned out I was not. Over the weekend we walked all over the city and I was the only one feeling the pain. And by pain, I mean throbbing feet and legs that tingled as I tried to fall asleep hours later. (On Saturday night I was in bed at 10:30, utterly exhausted.) I know, I know, I brought it on myself.

Mom has been to London many times before, the first time in 1972 when she was backpacking with my Dad, a subsequent three times with me and another one without. Her sister Mary Lou was a London virgin until this past weekend so I was eager to show ML the requisite sites while also reintroducing my Mom to all the nooks and crannies that I’ve come to love.

On Saturday we left Pearl’s right after breakfast with plans to take advantage of a very warm sunny day and check most of the Thames-side sites off the tourism list. We disembarked from the tube at Tower Hill and proceeded to walk around the Tower of London, across Tower Bridge and around Bermondsey. We stayed south of the Thames to explore Southwark, stopping at Borough Market for lunch, Southwark Cathedral, Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre and the Tate Modern. Next we wandered across Millennium Bridge for a visit to St. Paul’s Cathedral then back across the Thames via Blackfriar’s Bridge for a stroll along the South Bank and searches for a patio and a shandy in Gabriel’s Wharf. Sticking to the south side, we passed the London Eye, Waterloo Bridge and the big complex that houses the London Aquarium before crossing Westminster Bridge to see Big Ben, the Houses of Parliament and Westminster Abbey. Next we wandered through St. James Park, where I allowed the ladies to sit on a pond-side bench for 10 minutes, before we saw Buckingham Palace, and the set-up for Sunday’s marathon, followed by a stroll up the Pall Mall towards Trafalgar Square. Here we were overwhelmed with an outdoor concert to celebrate St. George’s Day (England’s St. Patty’s but not as popular) before having afternoon tea at the upstairs restaurant of the National Portrait Gallery. Finally, we dragged ourselves up Charing Cross to catch the bus home, soak our feet and collapse in a pile on the couch.

On Sunday I was rather grouchy but had organized a day that involved less walking and more shopping to cheer myself up. I took Mom and ML through the Columbia Flower Market, down Brick Lane and into the Sunday Up Market before making our way over to Spitalfields. They made some purchases and I got some late birthday presents so the day was a great success. On Monday, I went back to the office, relieved to return to my desk chair, but did meet the ladies for lunch in Carnaby Street before sending them along Regent towards Picadilly Circus then up Shaftesbury Avenue, through Leicester Square and Covent Garden.

ML has departed for Canada, a well-timed flight that has avoided the ash cloud, while Mom will hang out with me and Pearl for the rest of the week. All in all, it has been a really great visit and I do feel that I got to show both Mom and ML the London that I love. However, I am so wiped out that I am grateful for the fact that my next major visitors (my sister Lindsay and brother Kyle) will not be here until the end of July, so I have some serious recuperation time to take advantage of.