Let's talk about: Being a tourist in your own town

On Saturday I headed into London for a work-related conference, well actually an unconference but that's a story for another time and as I was heading towards Marble Arch and the Edgware Road - a part of London that I don't often visit, it struck me that I was venturing into a part of London that I didn't really know. And that felt a bit daft really, as the Edgware Road is off Oxford Street, further up than my normal shopping haunts but not completely unknown territory.

But it felt different. I found myself slowing as I walked to take in a part of London with a different feel, had to offer. And even though I was running just about ontime I didn't want to rush. I was guilty of doing that thing where you live close, so you leave later than you should. I'd been watching on Twitter people travelling from around the country, the breakfasts they were sharing as their fuel of the day, and I thought to myself I'd better get up soon!

And being just about ontime meant I made it to the venue and into the unconference just as it started at 10.15 grabbing a couple of pastries and a coffee as I scooted through the foyer, before finding a seat. And while I listened to the introductions (I was listening, I promise) my mind was thinking of this new part of London and comparing it to the West End and the City I was used to. 

I'm a South London girl so I'm much more comfortable in the areas around London Bridge, including the City, Borough and the South Bank and Charing Cross, including Covent Garden, Seven Dials and of course Oxford Street. There's no coincidence I'm sure that they're both stations I use regularly. 

And while I was thinking - and still listening, and remembering my number for the start of day group exercise - I thought London isn't somewhere I stay. I mean I live in London, but I rarely stay in London. And I wondered if that was strange. We live in Zone 3 so getting home is do-able, and will be even more do-able when the Jubilee line runs into the night, which is soon I think.

After a great day at the unconference, I picked up my thoughts and wondered if I were to stay in London where that'd be. And that's where Great Little Breaks got me thinking. If I were to stay in town would I opt for somewhere I knew less well, or somewhere I was much more familiar with. I think in all honesty it could be either. It'd be great to have a view over London's famous landmarks and to have them really on your doorstep for the day. 

But it'd also be good to stay somewhere less familiar to explore. But all the time knowing that the familiar sights were close by. I don't think though I could miss out on a stroll along the Thames as the sun settles, for me that would be the perfect prelude to a great night.

But now I'm curious, if you were to stay in London, especially if you're familiar with it, where would you stay?  Somewhere familiar, or somewhere new?

This is a collaborative post, but all views and opinions are my own.

A bit of a slide at the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park

So finally I'm sharing more from my visit to the Arcelormittal Orbit in the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park in Stratford last week - the photo I shared is part of the corkscrew section of the slide.

I accepted the invite on a whim, because I thought it would be a good thing to say I've done. And it is. But I'd forgotten how tall the sculpture is. I should have known really as we visited it during the Paralympics before heading into the stadium to watch the athletics.

I forgot too how I'm not so good with heights. Well, actually that's not true. I'm ok with being up there, it's just the getting down again that I have trouble with. Which is sort of the point of a slide isn't it. 

As I got off the DLR at Pudding Lane - great name hey?  - it comes from the nearby Pudding Mill River which is a tributary of the River Lea, I quickly remembered everything I'd forgotten above, plus that I'd never ever managed to do a water slide either.  Oops.

I also started to spot what looked like a spiralling metal tunnel which looked to be a new addition since our last visit. And then I realised that that service duct-like metal tunnel was actually the slde. Gulp. I seriously thought about heading back to the DLR but forced myself onwards to get a closer look. I walked around the Orbit and took some pictures and then walked around it some more and decided to go in.

I wasn't so sure that I'd be enjoying it, but I appreciated the encouragement.

There's a small exhibition as you go through the entrance and I couldn't help but agree with this, although I think probably more madness than sense. And from the pictures of the evening, I seem to have caught the look of madness, or apprehension, or just complete utter amazement that I walked through the door.

MY FACE IS WONDERING WHAT ON EARTH I'M DOING HERE!

Before we headed up to the lower viewing level we were able to check out the slide from the ground. I was keen to see where we'd come out. Close up it looked much larger than it had from the outside, so that was reassuring, and it looked hard to get stuck in it, which was even more reassuring. 

There's plenty of wooden bench-like-beds there too for taking more unusual shots of the slide, and liking a lay down - and needing one by now as I realised what was coming - I tried them out. I was also grateful for these when my wobbly legs climbed off the chute later too.  It's not too surprising that they were wobbly though as the slide is 178 metres high, and I'm only (at my very tallest) 1.57 metres.

AH YES, A LIE DOWN. THAT'LL HELP...

Leaving our bags in the lockers on the ground we headed up to the sliding platform in the high speed lift.  Having already checked out where I'd come out, now it was time to see where you went in. As I've already said I'm not much of one for looking down so stayed well away from the edge.

ATTRACTIVE HUH?

Next up was the protective gear. It's not flattering, but my take on it was if they think you need it, I'd be wearing it - they are the experts after all. 

As well as the attractive headgear I'm modelling there were elbow pads and knee pads for those wearing skirts or leggings. I escaped wearing those, but as you can see wasn't looking too happy about the rest of it either. 

Actually I'm on the ramp talking myself into going ahead with it all. I tried to look down but obviously sensing my nerves wasn't allowed to look. The guy at the top was really patient with me and let me take my time to prepare myself. He also said that if I looked down I'd never do it, and I think he was probably right.

You get to sit on a very comfy mat with your feet enclosed. There's a strap to hold onto as well and your hands are just by your knees. You're told to keep your elbows in - happy to do that. To lift your head up to see what's going on - not so sure about that, or to lie back if it all gets too much - I most probably did quite a bit of this. And it's ok to scream too, tick!

The trickiest bit for me was pulling myself forward to get to the sliding position. And then to let go. I couldn't move my hand from the rail and needed to shift my weight to the right to do this. The operator had already worked out that I wasn't going to push myself over the edge so he did that for me. And I was off.

There was some screaming - mine, I think. But then I stopped screaming. It was odd. Just as I thought I'd mastered it another twist or turn or drop down or change of direction came along. The whole slide takes 40 seconds give or take, depending on a number of factors. But it was a long 40 seconds I can tell you. It was reassuring to know that I had the whole tunnel to myself and that no one else would slide down into me.

And when I stopped, I was still in the tunnel. I hoped I was at the end and had stopped short rather than being stuck somewhere along the way. I didn't feel stuck though, so as I was working out what to do a very nice lady pulled my mat from by my feet and I was out in the open. After a quick and quite wobbly high five I was once again very glad to see those bench-like-wooden-beds.

It was interesting to hear how the rest of our party coped with the slide on their way down. There were screams and yelps and even some singing, to disguise the screams and you knew if someone was on the slide by the whooshing noise and that I think could be a noise that'd become quite addictive. 

I was offered the chance to do it again, but once was enough. Somehow I expect the operator at the top already knew he wouldn't be seeing me again.  So declining a repeat performance I headed up to the observation deck, above the sliding platform and admired the views.

LOOKING TOWARDS THE CITY

LOOKING AT THE SWIMMING POOL IN THE OLYMPIC PARK

And then it was time to go. The sculpture was lit and the slide was closed. And rather than go down in the lift, I opted to walk down. There's 455 of them and well, it's how I left the Orbit the last time I visited, and it wasn't the slide so I was up for doing that again.  I'd recommend that if you visit. And it's definitely worth doing, even for height-ists and scaredy-cats like me.

To ride the slide tickets are £15 for adults and £10 for children. That's just for one slide, but for me once was enough, although if there are spaces you can book a second slide for just the price of the slide. You do have to book, when I visited at the start of September the first free weekend slots were into October so if it's something you want to do get yourself onto the ticket page now.

And if you'd rather be a bit more cautious and enjoy it from your front room, then take a look at this video filmed the evening I was there. 

Thanks to AttractionTix for inviting me along and letting me prove to myself that sometimes I'm not as much as a scaredy-cat as I think I am!

Gargoyles and stonework in Blois

I do like a gargoyle. Obviously I don't have my own, although at times I think it would be nice to add one, but where would you start?  I know they're supposed to be grotesque, but did you know they also have a spout designed to guide water from a roof and away from the building to avoid water running down the walls and eroding its mortar. You see, useful. And the more I think about it and our water-on-the-windows problems (a bad design involving windows in our mansard roof) I really do think a gargoyle would help us out.

If only I'd known when I saw these at the Château de Blois. Although they would have been tricky to transport on our bikes wouldn't they?! Before we got inside the chateau in the centre of Blois we already spotted these.

Once inside the chateau this was the view we were met with. Absolutely stunning and my eyes didn't know where to look first. There was the classic French chateau architecture immediately in front of us, reminiscent of many chateaus we'd already seen. But there were plenty of things that were different too, the staircase on the right being just one of them. 

It turns out that the royal chateau of Blois has had quite a bit of work done, with each of the four wings showcasing French architecture from the 13th through to the 17th century, with each addition making it grander and slightly more bizarre. I guess, it really is a rather grand example of adding an extension in a completely different style. And when you learn that seven kings and ten queens of France, it's easy to see why the architecture became grander and grander.

It was the Françoise I staircase though that really caught my eye. It's inspired by the Italian Renaissance and is ornately carved. It was initiated in 1515 and I'm sure was just as fantastic then. It's open to walk up and down too, so of course we did and I'm sure I wasn't the only one to imagine how this might have been in days gone by. 

As we moved through the various parts of the chateau we found ourselves in a section with an exhibition of stonework and some of the gargoyles too. And it was great. There were plenty of information boards in both French and English which meant we spent a fair time exploring this area. 

Did you know that during the French Revolution of 1789 royal emblems were systematically destroyed. Which makes sense when you consider what it was about. But to restore the hammered out emblems castings were made of those found at the nearby Château of Chambord, which as a private residence fared better than the royal palaces. 

Having spent more time than I'll admit looking at these gargoyles my favourites are the creature sort rather than the human sort. Every time I look at the one above I see a certain Labour leader and it makes me smile, I'm not quite sure why.

But don't you think I should have one of these, maybe not a dog - although the one of the right above looks quite a character. Perhaps I should have a cat gargoyle, not a cute fluffy sort that wouldn't go with the ethos behind them would it. But it got me wondering, if you could commission a gargoyle, what type would you have?