Just over a fortnight after landing in London, we’d finally reached the furthest point of our travels in the UK- a remote place of pilgrimage for any child under the age of six. From this point on, everywhere we went would be to some extent part of the process of returning- to England, to Wolverhampton, then finally back to Tanzania.
We arrived in London at midday on the first Saturday in August, fresh from a pretty uneventful flight. To be honest, the boys have done so much travel now, flying with them is no longer an issue. They just sit down and patiently enjoy the hours of television denied to them anywhere else!
Our home for the next two weeks was a small, one bedroom apartment in St Katherines Dock, a beautiful marina just to the east of the Tower of London. The block was an ex council block- a bit basic and in terms of size it was “compact and bijou” but it was pleasant enough. I guess that is my view based on eight years of London living. The view of another family member, used to larger and more salubrious accommodation was a little less charitable. Kieran was distinctly unimpressed at first. I just wish he hadn’t referred to the house as “a ruin” in front of the landlord!
However, I remember jogging through the area years ago, when we lived in Wapping wishing that one day we could be lucky (or rich) enough to live there. Finally we were living the dream- the apartment may have been small but the location ticked the box well enough.
The view from our balcony in St Katherine's Dock, London
The two weeks followed a fairly set pattern. I set off for work bright and early- in the office by 7am to coincide with Tanzanian working hours. Soma would head off with the boys at about 9am for Rohan’s morning therapy session. The afternoon would entail either a second session or various tourist activities- seemingly focused on the many parks in London.
Being part of the working population of London once more was an interesting experience. Although I’ve been back several times since we left in early 2005, the visits have only been fleeting. This time it was a solid fortnight among the capuccino drinkeratti! It was an experience which challenged a lot of preconceptions. I noticed that although Londoners seem quite aloof, it doesn’t take a lot to break the ice. From the Tesco delivery man to the taxi driver who took us to the airport most people were only too happy to chat once conversation had been initiated. Rohan managed in fact to work a minor miracle- getting strangers to engage with him on the Tube. Sadly for Soma, this involved Rohan announcing very loudly that he had farted. A few previously dour faces betrayed hints of smiles until some people opposite actually began to talk to him. A conversation on the Tube- whatever next?
I’m not sure why but this time London made me a bit more aware of my age. Quite simply everyone seemed so much younger. Walking into work, I noticed that pretty much everyone accompanying me on the South Bank was jogging or speed walking. London seems full of young people determined to stay young for as long as possible
We all enjoyed our time in London. The evenings sitting on our balcony drinking wine and looking out over Tower Bridge were great. However, the overwhelming feeling was that although this was a great place to visit, I’d never want to live there again. The main reason was claustrophobia. The one thing we have in Tanzania is plenty of space- the house is big, roads are mainly clear, even the town centre isn’t overly crowded. In contrast, the twice daily scrimmages to get over Tower Bridge made me feel way too hemmed in for my liking.
Time seemed to fly in London and after two most enjoyable weeks we found ourselves in a taxi heading up the motorway to Luton Airport, ready for the short flight to Edinburgh.
In the 30 or so years I’d lived in the UK, I’d never actually visited Edinburgh- in fact a short excursion into Glasgow had been the only experience of a major Scottish city of any sort. Circling over the Firth of Forth as our plane approached the airport, I realised just how beautiful a city Edinburgh is. For those who have never been, it is a city of grey stone buildings- architecture quite similar to places like Bath. On one side the city touches on the sea and on the others it is surrounded by a number of small mountains, the most famous of which is King Arthur’s Seat. Being so far north there was a definite change in temperature- when the pilot told us that the weather was “just like London” he was clearly lying! We got out to icy blasts of wind and loud protestations from Kieran that he wanted to go back to Africa immediately!
We spent four full days in the city, staying with Soma’s brother and sister in law. Their house is a great place, backing onto King Arthur’s Seat- a decently sized hill which we walked up the day after our arrival. Looking down over the city, we could see that the locals had a city to be proud of. Frankly, Rajat and Angela were the only reason for visiting Derby- Edinburgh we’ll visit regardless of who lives there!
In our short visit I think we managed to tick all the necessary boxes. We took in a number of shows at the Edinburgh Fringe. We started with a German comedy show which was marginally funny- probably because having spent the money we were determined to laugh! We also encountered a street juggler who was more concerned with keeping his audience in the right place than with actually juggling (I think he had OCD or something since he kept stopping his act to tell people to move around so he had a complete circle!). He announced at the end that he felt he was worth a fiver and that we had a moral obligation to pay him- I diplomatically restrained my elder son from giving him a 5p coin! Our final experience was a circus show given by a group of well intentioned but inexperienced kids on the top of a windy hill. Sadly, the wind meant that we were freezing and the performers kept falling off whatever they were meant to be on- stilts, unicycles, big balls- you name it, they fell off it! After one girl hit her head on concrete we realised that our continued presence only encouraged them, this engendering further risk to their health and we headed home.
At the other cultural extreme, we visited Rosslyn Chapel, a small but very famous templar chapel a few miles outside of the city. This chapel has been famous for centuries and is extremely ornate both inside and outside. In recent years, the publication of a certain Dan Brown novel has sent visitor numbers through the roof- from about 9,000 per year in the 1990s to over 120,000 last year. The guide seemed quite phlegmatic about it all- increased visitor numbers are good for local business after all. However, she did also poke fun at the conspiracy theories, pointing out that if all of them were true then the small vault below was home to the Holy Grail, Excalibur, the wizard Merlin, the true Throne of Scone, the Ark of the Covenant and myriad other relics up to and including Elvis Presley! The chapel certainly attracts attention- having said that my count of tourists walking around clutching copies of the Da Vinci Code was very disappointing- single figures only I’m afraid!
During our time in Edinburgh we picked up our rental car- the crucial ingredient for the following few days as we found our way out of Edinburgh through the West of Scotland, then down to Wolverhampton via the Lake District. The prospect of driving in the UK after a hiatus of almost five years was not something I was looking forward to wholeheartedly. Although the move to Tanzania enabled me to resume driving, this may have been more of a hindrance than a help with regard to UK driving. While the past few years have improved my defensive driving skills, the Tanzanian roads are centres of excellence for new skills such as cutting traffic lights, jumping queues and driving on the pavements. I have done my best to preserve my integrity but was genuinely worried at my ability to stick to a strict 30mph limit! In fact, all went well- no police lights flashing ominously in the rear view mirror and a solid record of safe and sensible driving- even Soma thought I was good!
The serious driving started one Thursday morning as we pulled away from our hosts in Edinburgh. After a frustrating hour or so trying to get out of the city, made all the more fun by Kieran asking “are we there yet” for the billionth time we finally found the motorway and headed off into the Highlands. Before long we were well into open countryside, making our way through winding roads heading slowly but surely towards Oban.
Early afternoon found us approaching Oban. Our final approach was a steep winding road which gave us a beautiful panoramic view of a small town full of beautiful buildings, a typical grey coloured distillery and a busy port. We checked into the Kilchrenan Hotel, a small family run establishment on the esplanade- a fabulous find and one I’d recommend to anyone. We spent the afternoon looking around the town- not a major undertaking given the size of the place and the fact that the main tourist attraction is the distillery, not a great priority for either of our two boys. After an early dinner, we settled down to an early night.
Being part of the working population of London once more was an interesting experience. Although I’ve been back several times since we left in early 2005, the visits have only been fleeting. This time it was a solid fortnight among the capuccino drinkeratti! It was an experience which challenged a lot of preconceptions. I noticed that although Londoners seem quite aloof, it doesn’t take a lot to break the ice. From the Tesco delivery man to the taxi driver who took us to the airport most people were only too happy to chat once conversation had been initiated. Rohan managed in fact to work a minor miracle- getting strangers to engage with him on the Tube. Sadly for Soma, this involved Rohan announcing very loudly that he had farted. A few previously dour faces betrayed hints of smiles until some people opposite actually began to talk to him. A conversation on the Tube- whatever next?
I’m not sure why but this time London made me a bit more aware of my age. Quite simply everyone seemed so much younger. Walking into work, I noticed that pretty much everyone accompanying me on the South Bank was jogging or speed walking. London seems full of young people determined to stay young for as long as possible
We all enjoyed our time in London. The evenings sitting on our balcony drinking wine and looking out over Tower Bridge were great. However, the overwhelming feeling was that although this was a great place to visit, I’d never want to live there again. The main reason was claustrophobia. The one thing we have in Tanzania is plenty of space- the house is big, roads are mainly clear, even the town centre isn’t overly crowded. In contrast, the twice daily scrimmages to get over Tower Bridge made me feel way too hemmed in for my liking.
Time seemed to fly in London and after two most enjoyable weeks we found ourselves in a taxi heading up the motorway to Luton Airport, ready for the short flight to Edinburgh.
In the 30 or so years I’d lived in the UK, I’d never actually visited Edinburgh- in fact a short excursion into Glasgow had been the only experience of a major Scottish city of any sort. Circling over the Firth of Forth as our plane approached the airport, I realised just how beautiful a city Edinburgh is. For those who have never been, it is a city of grey stone buildings- architecture quite similar to places like Bath. On one side the city touches on the sea and on the others it is surrounded by a number of small mountains, the most famous of which is King Arthur’s Seat. Being so far north there was a definite change in temperature- when the pilot told us that the weather was “just like London” he was clearly lying! We got out to icy blasts of wind and loud protestations from Kieran that he wanted to go back to Africa immediately!
We spent four full days in the city, staying with Soma’s brother and sister in law. Their house is a great place, backing onto King Arthur’s Seat- a decently sized hill which we walked up the day after our arrival. Looking down over the city, we could see that the locals had a city to be proud of. Frankly, Rajat and Angela were the only reason for visiting Derby- Edinburgh we’ll visit regardless of who lives there!
In our short visit I think we managed to tick all the necessary boxes. We took in a number of shows at the Edinburgh Fringe. We started with a German comedy show which was marginally funny- probably because having spent the money we were determined to laugh! We also encountered a street juggler who was more concerned with keeping his audience in the right place than with actually juggling (I think he had OCD or something since he kept stopping his act to tell people to move around so he had a complete circle!). He announced at the end that he felt he was worth a fiver and that we had a moral obligation to pay him- I diplomatically restrained my elder son from giving him a 5p coin! Our final experience was a circus show given by a group of well intentioned but inexperienced kids on the top of a windy hill. Sadly, the wind meant that we were freezing and the performers kept falling off whatever they were meant to be on- stilts, unicycles, big balls- you name it, they fell off it! After one girl hit her head on concrete we realised that our continued presence only encouraged them, this engendering further risk to their health and we headed home.
At the other cultural extreme, we visited Rosslyn Chapel, a small but very famous templar chapel a few miles outside of the city. This chapel has been famous for centuries and is extremely ornate both inside and outside. In recent years, the publication of a certain Dan Brown novel has sent visitor numbers through the roof- from about 9,000 per year in the 1990s to over 120,000 last year. The guide seemed quite phlegmatic about it all- increased visitor numbers are good for local business after all. However, she did also poke fun at the conspiracy theories, pointing out that if all of them were true then the small vault below was home to the Holy Grail, Excalibur, the wizard Merlin, the true Throne of Scone, the Ark of the Covenant and myriad other relics up to and including Elvis Presley! The chapel certainly attracts attention- having said that my count of tourists walking around clutching copies of the Da Vinci Code was very disappointing- single figures only I’m afraid!
During our time in Edinburgh we picked up our rental car- the crucial ingredient for the following few days as we found our way out of Edinburgh through the West of Scotland, then down to Wolverhampton via the Lake District. The prospect of driving in the UK after a hiatus of almost five years was not something I was looking forward to wholeheartedly. Although the move to Tanzania enabled me to resume driving, this may have been more of a hindrance than a help with regard to UK driving. While the past few years have improved my defensive driving skills, the Tanzanian roads are centres of excellence for new skills such as cutting traffic lights, jumping queues and driving on the pavements. I have done my best to preserve my integrity but was genuinely worried at my ability to stick to a strict 30mph limit! In fact, all went well- no police lights flashing ominously in the rear view mirror and a solid record of safe and sensible driving- even Soma thought I was good!
The serious driving started one Thursday morning as we pulled away from our hosts in Edinburgh. After a frustrating hour or so trying to get out of the city, made all the more fun by Kieran asking “are we there yet” for the billionth time we finally found the motorway and headed off into the Highlands. Before long we were well into open countryside, making our way through winding roads heading slowly but surely towards Oban.
Early afternoon found us approaching Oban. Our final approach was a steep winding road which gave us a beautiful panoramic view of a small town full of beautiful buildings, a typical grey coloured distillery and a busy port. We checked into the Kilchrenan Hotel, a small family run establishment on the esplanade- a fabulous find and one I’d recommend to anyone. We spent the afternoon looking around the town- not a major undertaking given the size of the place and the fact that the main tourist attraction is the distillery, not a great priority for either of our two boys. After an early dinner, we settled down to an early night.
The port at Oban
The next day was the big one for the boys. New experience number one for all of us was getting the car onto the ferry. Having stowed the car away, we headed onto the top deck to watch the ferry pull out of the harbour. For me at least, this experience was a mortal conflict. On the one hand was the urge to stay and watch the beautiful scenery of the coastal town fading into the distance and the distant Isle of Mull coming into view amid the mist and driving rain. On the other hand there was the very real urge of a man who had come from Tanzania with nothing more than T shirts to get out of the cold and to get a coffee below deck. Ultimately warmth prevailed and we spent the second half of the journey in a warm bar.
The Calmac Ferry which took us from Oban to Craignuire and back
We pulled out of the port onto a pretty empty road. I’d been warned that driving on the Isle of Mull was a different challenge- most of the roads are single track and there is a very specific etiquette for use of the numerous Passing Places. Well, we managed easily enough and after half an hour, the colourful town of Tobermory came into sight.
Tobermory was really the highlight of the boys’ holiday. Again, this was not a factor of the ubiquitous grey stone distillery; it was not even the picturesque port. It was only partly a factor of the colourful houses lining the sea front. The truth is that the town was used several years ago to film the popular children’s series Balamory. Our children, like many others are keen viewers of this show, and the chance to see some of the houses was a huge thrill for them.
Tobermory was really the highlight of the boys’ holiday. Again, this was not a factor of the ubiquitous grey stone distillery; it was not even the picturesque port. It was only partly a factor of the colourful houses lining the sea front. The truth is that the town was used several years ago to film the popular children’s series Balamory. Our children, like many others are keen viewers of this show, and the chance to see some of the houses was a huge thrill for them.
The seafront at Tobermory
We were given a map of the key locations and looked through it. Sadly, it seemed that most of the houses had been repainted, making viewing pretty pointless. A couple of houses remained and these attracted a steady queue of hopeful children. Standing outside the bright yellow house of Josie Jump- now in fact a small hotel whose owners must surely be sick to death of children being photographed outside it-we met several other families all containing excited kids and fed up Dads! We dutifully took our photos and headed off for lunch- at the place formerly known as Edie Macreadie’s shop. This shop sold nothing but chocolate so in true glamorous style, lunch was taken sitting outside the local Spar- bet they didn’t have that in Balamory.
Kieran "jumping" outside the Park Lodge, aka Josie Jump's house- only the millionth time some family had taken that particular photo!
Leaving Tobermory was a bit odd- a bit like the beginning of the end. From this point onwards, everything would be a kind of heading home. We went to Craignuire- the main port of Mull- for the night. The next morning we headed back to Oban and, after a short breakfast we began the long journey back to England. The stopover in the Lake District was a good break- the caravan was a welcome novelty for the boys at least. However, the stay was curtailed by the driving rain so common to the British summer. We had a visit to a local animal farm- including everything from rabbits to some rather miserable zebras. In a sense, we understood very well why they were miserable. The zebras were not the only entities who had come from the African plains to be placed in the driving rain of the Lake District. Despite Kieran’s best efforts to cheer up the zebras by singing Jambo Bwana to them (apparently to stop them being homesick), they remained resolutely miserable.
We’re in Wolverhampton now. In a few days we’ll fly back to Tanzania to resume our normal lives. If I’m completely honest, I looked ahead to this holiday with something less than complete excitement. I much prefer to discover new places, and the UK is not exactly a new destination. However, in spending time in London, I was able to see an old haunt with fresh eyes. In visiting Edinburgh and the Western Isles, we were all able to discover new places, and to see places as worthy of visiting as anywhere else in the world I’ve been- the haggis was pretty good too!
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