After escaping the house a little after 9am this morning, we made our way to the local railway station, collected tickets, and jumped on the first post rush-hour train towards London. By “we”, I mean myself, my better half, and our middle daughter - who had been longing to visit the city for some time - to visit the huge LEGO store in Leicester Square.
The journey towards Paddington was remarkably quiet - I can’t remember the last time I travelled into the city when not commuting, or fighting the weekend crowds.
From Paddington we descended beneath the city, and hurtled via the Elizabeth line towards the centre - avoiding the rest of the network which had been brought to its knees by yet another strike.
We emerged near Hamleys - the famous toy-shop. I had no idea we were going there before turning the corner towards it, so followed everybody else and tried to look enthusiastic - challenging with a cough, and horrific cold.
I half watched the demonstrations of toys on the various floors - given by a small army of manic teenagers that left me feeling slightly uneasy. Surely normal people aren’t that perpetually happy? Do they have a “Barbie from Toy Story” moment when the public leave - dropping their face, and cursing streams of naughty words to let off steam?
After Hamleys, we set off towards Leicester Square and some lunch. After rounding the statue of William Shakespeare, we found a pub of the same chain my daughter works for tucked away in a corner, and made good use of her discount.
On the way I passed a fifty-something American female tourist audibly criticising everybody passing her in the street. Given that I already felt a bit rubbish, and therefore had a pretty short bullshit fuse, I seriously considered stopping and challenging her her - wondering if she actually realised that other people could hear her toxic commentary?
I’m not sure what I might have said. It wouldn’t have been kind, so it’s perhaps best that I kept my mouth shut.
Finally - after eating ourselves to a standstill in a quite wonderful little pub (must remember it next time!), we set off to the entire point of the day (or the entire point of the day for our middle daughter) - the LEGO store.
Visiting the LEGO store was SUCH a different experience during the week, on a school week. I didn’t buy anything, but I wandered around and reminisced about my own childhood. I kind of wish they would release the early 1980s “Space LEGO” kits that I grew up with. I could re-live my youth.
My middle daughter bought a frightening amount of LEGO kits. She’s working now, and earning almost entirely expendable income. She used it, and then some. She bought so much, they pulled in managers to give her extra freebies at the checkout - among them a signed poster of the biggest kit she bought - signed by the designers of the kit in Denmark. I felt so happy for her - the people in the store all stopped for a moment to “Ooooh” as the scene unfolded.
I’ve known Apple stores enact the “be awesome” clause from time to time, but never the LEGO store. It made me smile.
Talking of Apple, after leaving the LEGO store we set off for Covent Garden. My other half wanted to take a look at the Moomin store - that she didn’t get to visit last Christmas because of the crowds. While she wandered around the Covent Garden market stalls, I sloped off to the Apple Store.
I’ve not been in an Apple Store for years. I was quite shocked. I imagine most people that set foot in Apple Stores know exactly what they’re going in there for - so WHY do you have to have a conversation with one of the blue shirted lunatics about it? I would have bought a folding keyboard for my iPad - if I could have picked one up and taken it to the checkout. But no. That’s not how it works. You have to talk to some idiot about it, then they go and get one for you, and then they process the payment with you in the middle of the store. I get it. It’s probably to stop stuff getting stolen - but it’s one step away from grocery stores 100 years ago. I thought the world had moved on.
Also - something else that makes no sense - Apple only make about twenty things - so then WHY have twenty of each thing on display? What is the point of letting people play with an array of devices that only really show any benefit once you’re logged into them, with your own information, accounts, and applications installed? It’s plain stupid.
Sorry. I’ve descended into foaming invective, haven’t I.
After finding my other half at the Moomin store, we wandered back towards a station - and stopped at a nice looking outdoor cafe in the sunshine. While waiting for the glacial table service to take and deliver our order, I found myself people-watching London happening around us.
I wondered if a pretty, anxious lady with dark hair standing outside The Ivy had been stood up by a date - before the best smile spread across her face, and she waved to a similar aged woman walking towards her through the crowds. Their embrace and toothy grins made the world suddenly a little less awful.
A group of women a couple of tables away from us made me smile for entirely different reasons. When I worked in London years ago, I would often go for a walk at lunchtime, and would sometimes stray towards “The City” - the financial district. It was pretty obvious that sexist hiring ruled back then - with cover-model girls walking into and out of the big banks and insurance companies. The group of girls sitting across from us were straight out of that mould - plaid skirts, perfect makeup, and perfect hair.
We finally left the cafe, and set off towards home - cramming ourselves onto another Elizabeth Line train. I stood for perhaps the first half hour, then as people departed the train along the way, we all found seats. While standing, I found myself exchanging glances with a young woman a little further along the train - who similarly found herself hanging from the roof railings. We both seemingly fell victim to not being rude, pushy, or thoughtless - traits which seem to afflict an awful lot of people in the city. I lost count during the day of the times I found myself separated from my family after being pushed out of the way while walking along busy footpaths, or through busy stores.
While walking towards our house from the railway station I felt sorry for my daughter - struggling with the LEGO she had bought - and didn’t even ask before taking the bags from her hands. She might play rugby, and go to the gym, and a hundred other things, but sometimes the superhuman strength of a Dad is needed. I didn’t let on how much the bags hurt my hands while walking the rest of the way home.
And so here we are. We survived a day in the city together. London is always exciting to arrive in - as is any big city, I imagine - but it’s also nice to leave it behind too.