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londonlanded · 7 years ago

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Weeks 3 & 4

Alright people, let’s make up for last week’s monotony shall we?

Monday was business as usual, until the day ended a touch early, and we went on a departmental-new-people field trip to the other Four Seasons property in London. Right off the bat, Four Seasons Hotel London at Ten Trinity square is entirely different from Four Seasons Hotel Park Lane. For starters, the building itself is a statement all on its own. Unlike FS Park Lane, the building at Ten Trinity was built in the 1800s, and is therefore more similar to the rest of the historical architecture in London. While Park Lane underwent significant renovations in 2007, they weren’t allowed to change the face of the building since apparently the building’s facade was “integral to the history of London” in spite of the fact that it was constructed in the 70s. While no one understands that legal logic, the laws were nonetheless binding, and therefore FS Park Lane is relatively “fugly” in comparison to the buildings from before and after that rather depressing architectural period.

Observe ^ totally not fugly.

The tour began with the member’s club that makes up most of the Southwest wing of the building. It’s about as elitist as it gets, in that it’s invite only, paid, and quite steep in terms of its rates. Still, it was beautiful - the carpet was designed to compliment the branding of the winemaker that sponsored one of the club’s rooms, where only that brand (whose name I’ve forgotten, whoops) of wine can be consumed. They’ve got bottles dating all the way back to ‘38, with some that cost as much as £15,000. However, what I think is the greatest real benefit of joining the club is access to a private dining area that serves Chef Anne-Sophie Pic’s family favourite recipes. In addition to the usual British fare that’s served down the hall, in the second dining room, the three Michelin-starred chef and her team take over the club kitchen three times a day to create culinary artwork that’s probably too beautiful to eat. I asked if guests of members were allowed, and turns out they are. Now if only I knew someone who was a member…. Finally, there was the cigar room that’s staffed by Paola the cigar sommelier, the only one in Europe if I remember correctly. Quite the star-studded staff at FS Ten Trinity, I must say.

Then came the real star of the show though - the largest suites in the hotel are all located on the ground floor, and the one we got to look at was, in essence, large enough to house a family of 6, comfortably, without ever having to fight over the bathroom. We’re talking 24K gold and glass tiles in the bathroom, ceilings high enough to fit a second floor (which I’m learning is a typical English thing but it’s still not lost its novelty for me), and la piece de resistance, a toilet that I’m pretty sure costs around $12,000.

Allow me to set the scene; I walk into the bathroom ahead of my four male coworkers, and upon seeing that the toilet is indeed the same one as was on display at head office while I worked there, I grabbed the controller off the wall and hit the power button. The boys looked at me, not realizing what I had done. I pressed a button, and I cannot express to you the look of awe that crosses a man’s face when he sees the toilet seat lift for the first time without him having to touch it. I wouldn’t say it was a religious experience, but I feel like to them, it might have come close? What ensued was ten minutes of the boys trying to get the butt-sprayer to work without anyone having to take their pants off, and my friend Matteo getting sprayed in the face by electronically-sterilized water once he figured out the seat was pressure-sensitive, and therefore wouldn’t heat up or self clean unless someone was seated on the throne. Matteo’s strategically placed forearms did the trick, and in exchange for his hard work, he received a weight-triggered facial. Thankfully a bathroom is an excellent place if you have to pee yourself with laughter.

Tuesday, quiet by any standard, but I met up with Lucy (visiting with her family from Toronto) to hit up Taylor Street Baristas, a cafe that was on the “Coffee Lover’s Guide to London” map that Grace had given me over the weekend. Excellent coffee, curious choice of music for a tiny cafe (I feel like dubstep is usually best enjoyed in large spaces?), but overall, nice to have some familiar company. Wednesday, another coffee date, another cup of tea. And the beginnings of a cold….

….which annihilated me until Tuesday!!! I wish I had more to report, but sadly, I wound up spending most of my weekend bedridden, and probably should have continued that trend into this week but my stubbornness combined with the return of my hometown guest (Lucy) made that somewhat challenging to follow through on.

Monday, Lucy convinced me to venture out to Covent Garden, and we wound up meandering into Neal’s Yard, which is a small open space in the heart of the city. Felt a nice wave of nostalgia as I walked into the colourful courtyard, last time I was there I was with my dad, lunching was a local variety of cheddar and slightly mealy but still sweet apples from a local vendor.

This time, my stomach decided all it wanted was an Americano, Luce had porridge topped with honey, banana, and cacao nibs. And an edible flower - the English seem quite into them.

Tuesday, Luce planned another pre-work adventure for me. I was starting to be able to breathe again (or so I thought), so we decided to tackle the St Paul’s Cathedral. I was feeling a little unsteady by the time we arrived, but we were already there, so it was too late to change our minds. And so, the ascent began. Again, let me set the scene. Imagine one wheezing woman who’s sweating a little more than necessary, coughing every couple of steps, wearing far too many clothes to have just undertaken the task of climbing 528 steps, in the company of another young woman who is fixated on nothing but the stairs in front of her, for fear that if she looks anywhere but right in front of her, her paralyzing fear of heights will return and she’ll freak out completely.

We managed to make it to the very top, and got to admire the view for as long as we could tolerate it, but by the time we got out of the building, I couldn’t tell which one of us was in worse shape.

Thursday and Friday were quiet, barring the constant bustle of London life, managed to get some life-admin done which included getting my insurance sorted (yay I can pay tax now!!!!!……), getting my headphones repaired, and popping into an art gallery set up down the street from the hotel. Though the artist was remarkable, (the showcase was graphite pencil drawings and I was drawn in by the artist’s depiction of an owl the size of my torso), I wound up being mostly interested in the architecture in the basement of the gallery.

There was something about the way that brick arch came up and surprised you when you turned around, I was so focused on the drawings in front of the stairs (behind me in this photo) that I didn’t think to turn around. I looked up, expecting more art, and wound up spending most of my time in the gallery admiring the way the light from the world outside shone down through the skylights I hadn’t even noticed I had stepped over. This is something of a theme of London, and Europe in general I’m sure. There is beauty, architecture, history in every corner. Sometimes you wind up looking at something other than what you first came for.

Since I picked up an extra shift, I took advantage of my only day off on Saturday by heading to the Portobello Road market with some Australian friends I met a few weeks ago. It’s a 2km stretch of shops and booths and so much stuff its more than overwhelming. Lots of antiques, lots of vintage stuff, old cameras to pocketwatches, trench coats to leather soccer balls. There’s a store that specializes in socks beside a stall that sells deep fried potato spirals, plates of paella being prepared next to a store that sells only magnifying glasses. My companions wanted to sleep in, so we arrived at peak time so the streets were teeming with people. Definitely a highlight of London so far, though I think I’ll go back on my own next time so I can properly meander without worrying I might lose my new companions.

I walked away with a map of Northern Africa that was apparently printed in the 1920s, and a brass stamp so I can sign my name in fancy ink. I would have bought about eighty things more but alas, my bank account said no.

Also, Saturday marked me being in London for one whole month which frankly has felt like it’s both flown by but also lasted a lifetime. I feel like I’ve lived here forever, and while I know I have an unfathomable amount of exploration left to do, I am starting to feel at home here in this busy buzzy city.

Sunday, back at work again, this time for a shift I was expecting to have - it was my first where I spent a few hours on my own, which formally marks the end of my training! I have a ton more to learn, of course, but I am now able to be a fully functioning Communications Agent without my seniors looking over my shoulder and wondering what on earth I’m doing. Unfortunately I managed to shut down the phone lines for two of three properties by accident for about half an hour which wasn't my finest moment, but aside from that, disaster sort of averted? So far so good lol....

Next week, I’ve got three days off in a row, so I will be sure to have an adventure or two, you can hold me to it!

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