Last Thursday we travelled into London to meet Donna for lunch. A pleasant and fast train journey from St Mary Cray to Victoria, then an easy journey on the Victoria line to Highbury-Islington.
But our journey ended with quite a shock when we walked out of the exit, to see a run down, and dirty scene outside the tube station; There was a dreadful and once white wooden building opposite the exit, and an array of homeless people looking anxiously around for donations of money.
We hurried around the corner into Upper Street, to find the sun glinting in the horizon, which gave the place a slightly mellow feel. And Upper Street, with its cosmopolitan feel, was certainly a lot more positive.
I zoomed the camera onto the church spire in the distance, and stood on tip toes in order to get the camera above the traffic in the street, and hey presto, I managed to get a photograph that could easily be taken out of a Victorian winter scene. Except for the television aerial on the building. Oh well, good intentions.
We met Donna at the appointed time outside the town hall, and time for a photo shoot. Great to see her.
Then off to a Moroccan restaurant called Gem, where we ate the most delicious food, all freshly prepared and cooked on the spot. And not expensive, about 8.50 pounds for two courses and a soft drink.
We walked back across the road for an excellent coffee, before heading back to Highbury Corner to catch the tube to our other destination for the day, Harrods.
Before we left I tried to find a view outside the Highbury-Islington tube station that gave the area a positive feel, when I spotted a bicycle park, a little bit of the Netherlands. So with quite a bit of juggling to eliminate dingy buildings, I managed to get a reasonable photograph.
Cycling is extremely popular in Islington, but the cyclists certainly live dangerously, as the traffic is very heavy, and Upper Street is the main route for emergency services. An almost continous sound of sirens.
I can see Aaron and Kylie thinking, 'We are glad we do not live in Islington anymore'. Islington is certainly not tranquil Houten.
Back on the tube again, with a change at Green Park requiring a very long walk between platforms. It is amazing to think that under the streets of London there exists a huge network of railway lines and pedestrian tunnels. Another world.
Finally the correct platform with the railway line disappearing off into the tunnel. I always fear that the train will break down in one of these tunnels and all the lights go out. Panic! Keep calm, Nola, it may never happen.
Finally we arrived in Knightsbridge. Harrods. No beggars or dirty and unkempt buildings here. Everything spic and span, and polished for the tourists, especially those with plenty of money. Not us of course. We are only there to look.
The theme for the window display, was Harrod's Christmas Express. Each window was set up as a carriage, with a winter snow scene moving outside the train windows.
The models were wearing very expensive clothes, plus every item in the 'carriage' smacked of extravagance.
The reflection in the window was so pronounced, due to squeaky clean windows, that it was impossible to take photographs of the whole window, so I had to place the camera against the glass to get the next photograph.
Walter admiring the window display and trying to work out how much everything cost. We cannot afford it, Walter, not on our budget;
Harrods is no longer owned by Al- Fayad, who sold it in 2010 to Qatar Holdings for about 1.5 billion pounds. I think he used half of the money to pay off debts. The memorial to his son, Didi, and Diana, is still there, including their diamond 'engagement' ring. I found it all a bit too garish.
The shop was tastefully decorated with Christmas glitter. No prices on any items, of course.
The food hall, full of sumptuous food, from all over the world. Walter bought some coffee beans, but tore a hole in the plastic Harrods bag before he returned home, so we cannot reuse it for future shopping trips. To impress that is! The coffee was pretty good, but not the best we have tried.
Prickly pear fruit, with prickles removed, and from the description on the label they were meant to be deliciously soft inside. I might try one when down in the south of France. And to think the farmers in South Australia could have made a fortune by exporting them to Harrods, rather than spraying the prickly pear bushes with insecticide in order rid the land of the pest.
There were bars where one can sit at and eat seafood or steaks or other delicious food. I think this was the caviar bar.
Harrods at dusk. A very imposing building. There is no doubt about that.
We decided to catch a bus back to Victoria Station, where we enjoyed the views into the buildings - Christmas trees and decorations shimmering in the front windows of all the expensive apartments.
Ah, Victoria Station, at dusk, fully lit up and busy.
A pleasant journey home again on the fast and clean train.
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