St. Augustine said it best: The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page.







Monday, September 10, 2012

Loving a Loooong Layover (am I crazy?)


Or:  Handed a Travel Lemon?   Make Lemonade!

Every once in awhile,  I am stuck with a long layover.  Sometimes it is just all you can get when going from point A to B.  But there you are, with  interminable hours at an airport. Chain restaurants, shops, uncomfortable chairs, frequent announcements, long lines, ugh.

Recently, faced with 7 hours at London Heathrow, I decided to put my  noggin to work and try to turn it into a positive.  My agreeable Travel Companion (TC), is happy with a sports lounge with banks of televisions so he can watch game after game.  Not me!

Going from a sunny day in Nice to  seven hours in an airport is not my idea of how to end a vacation!

On the lower floor of the terminal we found the local transportation information offices where we obtained  schedules and some ideas of where we could go that was nearby and would have some interest.  My TC is a good sport and will go along with whatever I decide,  so I took a stab and decided on a town called Staines.

Next, we pondered on what to do with our carry-on luggage.  Viola, a few feet away was a short-term baggage storage area which would, for a small fee, let us leave our bags securely for four hours.

Then out to the bus stop. Along it came, on we went, and before we knew it we hopped off near a shopping mall. Down the street we saw what looked like it might be a small hostelry and away we went to look for lunch.  As we came closer we discovered something that made my TC happy. The hotel was on a river, and the river was The Thames, with  there was a paved walkway alongside it!  That was a big thing, and I think worth the whole layover to him.   

The beautiful white swans brighten up a dreary day.
That particular hostelry was not yet serving lunch so we decided to walk along the path.  The weather was iffy, the current was fast,  the swans were plentiful,  and the scenery was pleasant for being relatively close to the airport.  Then I saw something that made my heart flutter…there, across the river,  was a picturesque little inn called the  Swan Hotel.   I remembered that I had enjoyed lunch there on a trip decades ago!    It had been a much more pleasant day and we had sat outside along the river for an outstanding meal.

This inn gave me a moment of deja vu!


A little farther down the path we found a  modern building overlooking the river with a pub called something that reminded me of my little vegetable patch at  home:  the Slug and Lettuce.   We had good food and a congenial waiter, adding  up to a memorable lunch.

The pub, called "the Slug and Lettuce", had a great riverside location.  On a warmer day, we would have eaten outside.


Like most small towns, it was a mix of  old and new architecture (the Slug and Lettuce obviously in a new building.)

The greenish neon sign brings the sedate Town Hall building a touch of whimsy.
 
Heading into the center of town we discovered a mall where the roads had been closed to traffic, making it a comfortable place to wander.   The historian in me was thrilled to see a marker commemorating a bridge that had been built there by the Romans in AD 43,  and another marking an event that happened over 400 years later.  

Marking an important bridge crossing the Thames here from 2,000 years ago.  Ramparts from some nearby bridges of the same era still exist nearby.

My favorite part of the outing, a bit of serendipity as I did not expect this, was the wonderful sculpture honoring the people who worked for years  in the local linoleum factory. It turned out more of that ubiquitous flooring than any other place in the world…until the market slowed and it closed.  But the town clearly survived!

This is where linoleum was invented, and most of it was produced, until it fell out of favor.


Then back on the bus, to the airport, grabbing the bags, heading up the escalators and back into the throngs of Terminal 5 to board the flight home. The nine hours was easier to endure because of the discovery of a small working-class British town.  Fresh air, stretching your legs, and a nice pub lunch is  much more fun than just another long airport layover. (I learned one lesson:  plan this before you leave home and save time!)

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