Short night as they turn on the cabin lights at 5 a.m. GMT, which is only 11 p.m. in Winnipeg. There is news, though: the unofficial results of the American election show an overwhelming Obama victory. And we sit, a planeload of self-contained Canadians and Brits, all interested in the outcome and not a murmur aloud in response.
In London the newspapers are picking up the excitement as well: the transit system's Metro headlines read @History in the Making@ as we get on the underground at Heathrow, but a stop or two later people are boarding with an unusual second edition saying "Good Morning Mr. President" in enormous letters. We reach the Welby long before it opens and, taking the advice of a cheerful middle-aged resident with a Canadian (or American?) accent, go round the corner to the little coffee shop with the outside tables. A pleasant place to wake from jetlag in a little alcove of Belsize Village. Deliverymen for the pharmacy and the restaurant, mums and prams with toddlers hanging on, a steady stream of customers at the bakery. At ten we pick up the keys for the bedsit and at the gate we run into our Canadian friend of the coffee advice with his wife, Paul and Jill they are, and from B.C> They're finishing six months here and are enthusiastic, especially about their great discovery of high quality free public lectures at the London School of Economics, St. Paul's, the Inns of Court and other places. We tentatively agree to meet for a drink at some point.
The afternoon is for supplies - stocking up from the 99p store on Camden High St. and Sainsbury's. Veggies and grapes from Inverness St. market. The market vegetables are half the price they'd be at the supermarket and lovely.
It's Guy Fawkes night and the sound of firecrackers in the dark streets. Lambeth Council has arranged fireworks on Clapham Common and two other parks, so we head off, along with half of London it seems. The tube is jam packed with people, most of them younger than our children. Someone says they've closed Clapham Common Station because of crowds, but we only get as far as Kennington when we're told to evacuate the station "due to a reported emergency." So up in a crowded lift and onto the street. We follow the crowd and eventually work our way to Clapham Common Station - then notice the crowd thinning and falling away to pubs as we walk. We've followed Clapham High St. instead of cutting across to the common. But we've had our night's excitement and a taste of fireworks. A long day, and we're ready for home.
JAWORSKI TRAVELS