We arrived before 7 a.m. at Heathrow Terminal 5, at a bit of a loss for sleep but otherwise well. With Oyster cards and British currency already in hand, we were ready to hit the City of London.
As Oyster cards aren’t good on the Heathrow Express, we decided to brave the Tube. May I just say this — I have come to love the Tube. This was to become our benchmark departure point for the next five days:
A couple of route changes and a short ferry ride later, we found ourselves at the Hilton Docklands.
A friend had cautioned me that I wouldn’t like the Hilton Docklands. The hotel is in the heart of an old, run-down industrial area being replaced by chrome and glass renewal. But I thought it was great. The shells of the old buildings have been kept, with new interiors and bridge walkways between, so the hotel literally spans a dry dock and a regular dock. It makes for a warren of a hotel with bridges and turns and tiny elevators at different points, but the overall effect is bright and welcoming, with lovely views of the river.
View from a walkway at night
Views from our balcony
It turned out that the ferry trip we’d used to arrive could have been avoided — the Hilton Docklands has its own courtesy shuttle that takes you to the nearest tube station, that being Canada Water. But it was still neat to think that we’d used car, plane, train, ferry, and foot to get there. Henceforth, though, we used the courtesy shuttle, as it was faster and free.
As timing would have it, we had arrived at the Hilton Docklands more than five hours before the check-in time of 3 p.m. I hadn’t given much thought to that, as it would have been pointless to book a room for the night before arrival, but neither had I considered how sleep-deprived and disoriented we would be. The staff was great — they assured us that we could have the room as soon as it was ready, and shooed us over to the restaurant area to have a soft drink in the meantime.
That resulted in a bit of confusion, as it wasn’t yet 10 a.m., and the staff there was just clearing breakfast and didn’t know what we were doing there. The host was our hero, though — once he realized the situation, he had the bar provide us with Cokes at no charge, and welcomed us to have a seat. Every morning afterward, it was a cheery “Good morning, Hennesseys!’ from that fellow.
We also needed to pick up some small supplies we’d forgotten, so we got directions to a nearby shopping area (our first use of the courtesy shuttle); ran our errands; and returned to a room fully ready for three, right down to an extended and made-up sofa bed. That was good, because we really needed sleep.
After a much-needed nap, I set up the internet and found a message from our friend Terry — “If you have time get over to Downing Street – history is in the making!” So we decided to launch in with both feet — checked the tube maps and headed to Downing Street, just in time to catch Gordon Brown’s departure.
Alas, the camera card was faulty and I lost my favorite photo, just before the one on the right, above. But the important thing was being there at a pivotal moment in British history. Thanks for the tip, Terry!
On the return we decided to stop at Waterloo Station, as we were getting a bit hungry. We had a lovely supper at The Fire Station, looked around a bit there, and decided to call it a night.