10 April-Europe Trip 2026
Day Narrative
After a pre-landing hold that required circling east of the city, the plane approached Heathrow for landing east to west over London (I could see the London Eye clearly). Deplaning at 0940, I emerged from border control in Terminal 2 (T2) with my wheeled carry on bag. I stopped at United’s Poseidon Lounge outside the controlled area. The Heathrow Express train zipped me to Paddington Station in 15 minutes. Wheeling my bag to the Victory Services Club (VSC) hotel, I gave it to the concierge for storage at 1:30pm (my room wasn’t ready). I stayed on my feet, walking, most of the afternoon and evening unless I was eating. I walked quickly to generate heat since it was 12C when I arrived and got colder (duh!) later in the day. Staying active (and awake) until late in the evening on the day of arrival is a key part of my jet lag management strategy.
Notable Items
I noticed in the menu for supper on the flight from Denver that Business Class customers on United have access to their lounge adjacent to the border clearance exit in T2. Normally, that wouldn’t have attracted my attention, except that the words “with showers” also appeared in the same section. I’ve never taken a shower immediately after landing in Europe.
Accessing the showers in the lounge was easy. When I checked in with my boarding pass, a United rep asked me if I wanted to use the shower. Big YES on that one. He led me to an available room. The tiny space had all the fixtures of a normal U.S. bathroom plus washing up amenities. There were hangars for my clothes. Everything was very clean and it was a nice experience. Any shower is a nice experience as long as lots of hot water is available and you don’t have to walk across a campground to get to the facility.
In the lounge and eating area, there were comfortable chairs for the former and tables for the latter. I had a croissant and machine-produced latte until I saw menus that permitted you to order more substantial fare than what was at the buffet (breads, pastries, fruit, cereal, etc.).
I ordered a full English breakfast, of course. What’s “full” depends on where you are eating. What you see on posters is: egg (cooked various ways), baked beans, a grilled marinated mushroom, bacon (the English variety, not the American version (called “streaky bacon” here), sausage, black pudding (tasty, but don’t ask about ingredients), a grilled, stewed tomato, and some form of fried potatoes (typically a wedge of deep fried potato, never hashed brown potatoes). I received (see photo above) one egg, no potatoes, and no black pudding. I don’t eat this much food often because it is far more calories for the first meal of the day than I want or need. Since it was my first morning in England and it normally would have cost at least 15£ in London, I thought, “What the heck?”
The walk from Paddington Station along Edgeware Rd to the VSC (armed forces-only hotel near Marble Arch) was like visiting many foreign countries at once. It was crammed with restaurants, gambling parlors, convenience stores, travel agencies, and remittance centers catering to people from India, Pakistan, Afghanistan, Lebanon, and possibly other countries. Many had signs in Arabic (which always reminds me of an EKG). I passed several places where men were smoking water pipes at tables outside (brrr!).
Part of my first day, stay active, don’t-let-your-head-drop-onto-your-plate-while-eating plan was signing up for two tours. One 1-4pm and another 7-10pm. Both were canceled because I was the only person who signed up. Since it is hard to book other tours at the last minute, I made up my own walking tours.
First tour: walking to Marble Arch from the VSC, then down Oxford Street (shopping area). The arch is an odd structure: a large victory arch (shaped like the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, but much smaller). It is incongruously positioned alone at the edge of Hyde Park. It’s as if someone said, “What do we do with this? It is not very attractive so let’s stick it way over there!” That’s the short version of the true story.
It was originally supposed to be a grandiose gateway to an expanded Buckingham Palace, celebrating victories in the Napoleonic Wars (“Take that Arc de Triomphe!”). The first architect was sacked for overspending on fancy aesthetics. “Grandiose” doesn’t come cheap. His replacement completed it “in a more economic and practical fashion” (i.e., dull). The replacement architect didn’t get any help or explanations about the work in progress from his predecessor. No cooperation post dismissal? Fancy that. It was originally next to or part of Buckingham Palace, then moved away (far away) due to a change in royal priorities. Think of it as revenge of the Arc de Triomphe, which is probably too large to relocate.
Selfridges Façade
It’s a combination of a Greek temple and a ship’s bow
While there are many stores on Oxford Street, I spent most of my time exploring Selfridge’s department store. This place, a little brother to Harrods, is a Disneyland of department stores. I could have spent all day in just the fragrance and makeup section watching the employees and customers getting colorized. It reminded me of a live-action Picasso painting. I wandered all over this area, but didn’t remain because I felt underdressed compared to the employees (most of whom were standing around talking to each other, outnumbering “guests” by two to one at least).
Selfridges has several things you wouldn’t expect in a department store like two bars, a food hall (a “food court” that also sells speciality items), a confectionary, a wine store, a fitness studio, and a cinema. Marks and Spencer (M&S for short) has great food halls, but none of those other things.
My room at the VSC was ready when I returned from my tour of Selfridges. Because I was in the new wing on the 7th floor, the path to my room from the lobby was not direct. Dare I say a puzzle?
The directions at Registration were: elevator up to the fifth floor, walk down the corridor to another elevator, then ride up to the seventh. I repeated them to be sure I understood. Easy. Who gets lost in a hotel on the way to their room?
I exited the elevator on the fifth floor. No “second elevator” in sight. No problem, “walk down the corridor” were the instructions. Which way? I wheeled my bag one direction until I came to a set of steps down. Steps weren’t mentioned in the instructions so it couldn’t be that way. My bag and I reversed course. Walking to a set of double doors, I pushed. Locked. The second elevator couldn’t be that way. It was time to collect more data.
I returned to the elevator, leaving my bag because wheeling a bag complicates investigation. You never see Indiana Jones with a wheelie bag. Back to the steps down. A corridor with steps, poor design or a clue? I descended the short vertical distance and kept walking past rooms and around a curve until my bag was no longer visible.
I kept walking. It couldn’t be this far, could it? At the end of the curve, I saw it. No golden idol, but the second elevator. It was lurking there, out of sight. I looked around carefully lest spears come flying out of the walls!
The room wasn’t much bigger than ship staterooms I’ve had. Like a stateroom, it was cold. I couldn’t raise the temperature on the wall-mounted combination cooler and (supposedly) heater. I didn’t complain to the registration desk because I had already unpacked. I’ve done this before and gotten moved to another room. I’ve seen that movie and I didn’t like the ending.
The room had many signs like a ship’s engine room (definitely a military touch). One was a checklist of what not to leave in the room upon departure. A second was inside the bathroom warning you to keep the door shut during showers or the steam could trip the smoke alarm. A third was telling you not to flush “certain things” to prevent “expensive repairs” to the plumbing system. There must be an epidemic of flushing error in the U.K. because I’ve seen this in almost every hotel.
Following my inspection of room signage, tour number two was back to Oxford Street past Selfridges, to Oxford Circus, Carnaby Street, and Soho (perhaps 6km round trip). Highlights:
It was harder to find an ATM near the VSC than I expected. I finally found one without Arabic instructions several blocks away at the Post Office.
I popped into the Apple Store (London has two!). There was a class in session with a tech demonstrating how poorly Image Playground works. It’s not a secret. His head was shaved, but the graphic created by the computer displayed a full head of hair. “It has trouble with shaved heads” he announced to no one's surprise.
I walked around Carnaby Street. It isn’t just a street. That is the name for the entire shopping area around the street. It was getting cold now so I popped into Shakespeare’s Head for supper. It’s a pub in the shopping area.
At Shakespeare’s Head, I ordered fish and chips (with green peas, not mushy). Several things stood out from the experience. The first was don’t douse the fried fish in malt vinegar and then try to fork it. It tastes good, but the liquid makes the batter fall off and the fish disintegrate. The result is you’re eating empty batter shells and chasing tiny pieces of batter-less fish around your plate with a fork. It made me want to use my finger to push the fish bits onto my fork, but my father would have rolled over in his grave so I used the chips as pushers. The lesson is cut off a forkful of battered fish being really careful because the batter can still fly off, then give it a vinegar shower.
The second interesting thing about supper was the server seemed reluctant to take my Scottish pounds when it came time to settle. I wanted to use the 30£ I had left over from my 2024 trip to Scotland. She examined the bills with a dubious look. “I’m not sure we can take these.” I suppressed my urge to reply, “You must be joking.”
When summoned, the manager affirmed that they could accept cash that was printed in their own darn country! I’m probably over-sensitive to the “is this currency legal” issue because I changed dollars to pounds in a U.S. airport several years ago and they sold me a bill that had been taken out of circulation. It wasn’t usable! After several attempts to get it converted without success, I gave it to a homeless person.