Tag: Christmas

Christmas wanderings in London

The sky is icy blue. It’s bright and sunny. But when the breeze comes and it does, it cuts you across the face with a freezing swipe, fast and cutting.

It is Sunday 28th November 2021 and this is our first visit to London since 2019. The pandemic halted us in our tracks and jumping on a train where once so easy is now fraught with anxieties.

Traditionally we try to come into London at Christmas to see lights, lights, lights! Today we have lots of walking to do and even more morsels to cram into our waiting mouths. Our chattering teeth can be put to use! We’ve done the South Bank Christmas market and have found it less and less charming as the years pass. The Hyde Park Winter Wonderland is great for families but we need something a tad… well a lot more authentic and less in your face. We want to take it easy and see what happens today. We’ve been coming into town for 8 years, barring the 2020 Christmas lockdown, and we are excited to be returning.

Our first stop is Covent Garden. Seven Dials to be exact. I do love cobbled streets and the decorations this year are simple and delicate. A halo of white branches, neé twigs, are suspended high above the Seven Dials roundabout with pale blue, pink and gold baubles dotted around.

We wander to Chinatown, it’s my day to surprise Mr W, and despite both of us working in, visiting and living in London on and off throughout our lives we’ve never been. Red and gold Chinese lanterns criss cross across the street and I am mesmerised by the vibrancy of the red against the winter sky. We are early and find ourselves two of only a few people here. Most restaurants open at 12pm. There are no smells yet to tempt us in. We take an unbelievably small detour to Leicester Square to kill time and find it full of the ol’ hustle and bustle that covid has made me so anxious of. The tourist traps of the M&M and Lego stores offer no real appeal to us and yet queues have formed from the doors down the street. I’m so used to travelling abroad to tourist traps that I often forget we live adjacent to one of the most visited capital cities on the planet. We certainly take London for granted in this respect. It’s days like these that open our eyes to all that is on offer.

We briefly walk around the Christmas stalls in Leicester Square, glance up at the Capital FM windows and pause at the infamous cinemas that host premieres and red carpet events.

It is minutes away from midday and we are practically salivating at treats waiting behind the closed doors of Chinatown. Our first stop is at Bun House. Freshly steamed buns with various fillings to take away in a folded up cardboard box with chopsticks used as the handle. It is £10 for four buns. Chicken, pig, beef and lamb for us. The menu is on the door and we are second in line waiting for the click of the door being unlocked.

Hello! Feed me please! Our order is paid for and oh my the room is full of steam. The amount of bamboo steamers is crazy and I am excited with a capital ooooo!

We smuggle our purchases like thieves in the night to a small metal bench in the heart of Chinatown. Each bun has been branded with a red symbol on top. What it says we do not know. What it matters… we do not know. With great interest we slowly hold the bun in hand and bend it down so it opens softly revealing the filling inside. We each have a half. And groan with the deliciousness. Must have another bite! But if we do, that’s one less note left. Surely by finishing it, there are no more bites, but if we take no more bites we can’t enjoy the beautiful bun! The conundrum is very real. And before long all buns are gone and Mr W’s face is passive. He won’t yet let on how much he enjoyed that. He is a sly one.

Time for something sweet!

There is a plan to follow and yet as I walk past a serving hatch I-Spy a very tiny fish. The sign above the door says Chinatown Bakery and I want to know about the cuties on offer. They are Taiyaki and are made of soft waffle dough and are filled with custard. Served fresh and hot in a paper bag I am again struck at how tourist-like I feel in our home country. We buy four and have to wander for a while to allow them to cool. Before long temptation takes over cautiousness and we break open the delight to reveal the gooeyness inside. It is piping hot and silky smooth. The groaning comes back. It is simple and yet absolutely delicious. We have really let ourselves down by neglecting this place for so long.

We make a promise there and then to return and wander around London more often.

For now, it is onwards with our plans for the day…

Engaging moments

A squirrel runs along the back of the bench we are sitting on. It is 10:30am, or thereabouts, on a Sunday morning, and we find a rare occasion to sit down in this busy city. We’re in Manhattan, we flew in yesterday afternoon and have so far hit the ground running. The planning for this trip started in February 2015, it is now December. Mr W, my boyfriend at the time, had succumbed to my pleas and allowed me to show him around my second home. New York City. 

We land with only a few hours of daylight left, dump our bags at our hotel and head out into the city. The plan for tonight is a wander around midtown, ending up at Rockefeller centre to see the tree. The big one. La pièce de résistance. Christmas has landed. We stroll up past Bryant Park, lit up by its Festive huts selling their wares, past the Public Library with its wreath wearing stone lions and pause slightly to glance upon the luxurious Saks display and there it is. 30,000 lights and the famous star. And there are thousands of people surrounding it. With the months of preparation behind me, I’d forgotten one key piece of information, tonight was the first Saturday since the tree had been lit. As we get closer to the crowd, my fight or flight kicks in and I have to walk away. Crowds really bother me. The feeling of being shimmied about or being squashed is too much. Mr W understands and we leave with a plan to come back another time, we say a brief ‘Hello’ to Radio City Music Hall and hit Times Square. 

The next morning is the big one. We wake early as the sun rises into bright and clear skies. The Empire State building awaits! One of the most iconic places on planet earth. With its art deco features, history in the making legacy and most amazing views this will be my 5th visit. Mr W doesn’t like heights but the nerves are blown away by the fierce winds up on the 86th floor. With its iconic criss cross metal fencing and viewfinders, it is undoubtedly the most recognisable scene in the city. Coming early has been a good choice, the crowds are thin enough you don’t feel rushed and there’s a slight haze as the sun rises over the East River and shines over the island. It feels as if you are watching the city wake up, allowing a slight lay in on this Sunday morning, and head out into the new day. As we emerge from the gilded lobby we realise we are early for our brunch booking. We take the time to head to Madison Square Park. It is warm enough to walk and the sun feels good. This is one of my favourite past-times in this city. We find a bench and watch the sunlight play with the dappled shade as the city’s residents run, stroll and walk their dogs by. I’m always caught by envy at this moment. Watching the world go by. Of how lucky they are to live here. I know this will be one of the few times we’ll sit still on our 5 day visit. As if they are aware of that fact, grey squirrels approach us, they climb up Mr W’s legs, awaiting a handful of food. One makes it onto the back of the bench. Mr W smiles as he sees me in my element, wild animals so close and friendly in my favourite place. I glance over at him as he looks around and nods ever so slightly. In a single move, he sweeps off of the seat and kneels in front of me. The moment transforms, the city fades, and if he asks me to marry him, I do not hear it. The blood pounds in my ears, the traffic falls silent, there is only us. I start crying as he smiles from his grounded position. There is much laughter and crying and disbelief as I finally remember to answer his question. My trembling hand accepts the beautiful diamond ring while my voice remains caught in my throat. And just like that, the day comes back into focus. The squirrels have abandoned us. People walk by. The taxi’s rumble by. 

I start my engaged life by calling out to two people passing by. My voice is not playing ball and I sound like a strangled banshee. They ask me to repeat myself. “We’ve just got engaged, will you take our picture?” Forever captured, is me shaking, blotchy faced on that bench. Amazing. 

Peeling ourselves from the bench, we head to brunch, steak and eggs for him, bellini for me. The shaking has not subsided and, besides telling the taxi driver, the world does not know what has happened. It carries on despite my world having changed forever.

Before leaving for our trip, several of my colleagues all but bet money on the engagement happening in New York. With exclamations of “Of course he will, it’s your favourite place in the entire world.” And despite my and his insistence that it wouldn’t be happening, they would not stop. It would seem I’d be returning to prove them right. After reflecting on that, we spoke about how he proposed. All was not as it seems, I had inadvertently ruined his initial proposal plans. It was to be under the Christmas tree the night before. But he is laughing. He says it does not matter, that the opportunity in the park was perfect for us. Both laughing, relaxing and drinking it all in. 

I often think of this moment in time. So much of our now married life is planned. Weekends. Social events. Holidays. Schedules are the order of every day. What our engagement reminds me to do is sit, stop and listen every now and again. It’s in those moments we find ourselves again. It is those times that everything around becomes white noise and we find our way back to everything truly important in our lives.