Strike Me

A Tube strike in London is a special kind of hell.

I needed to be at Kings Cross Station by 9.30 for the train to Lincoln, it was a non refundable fare so I couldn't just take my time and get on the next train. I had expected Paddington tube to be open as it wasn't one of those listed to be closed during the strike. Well of course it was closed. Very surprising, it's the same as Southern Cross or Central suburban lines in Sydney being closed. Anyway it meant taking a bus...along with the hundreds who would normally go  by train added to those who ordinarily take a bus. I had the choice of two buses but one hadn't been seen for some time and of course the other one seemed to vanish after I let one go. Eventually the unseen one arrived and the line moved, pushing and squashing to get in and I do mean squashing. A bloke flew from the back at one point and just forced his way through - unbelievable. I was the last one allowed on as we were supposedly 'full'. Two stops on the driver stopped to let more people on and yet no one had alighted...odd.

After that horror I arrived at Kings Cross with about 8 minutes to spare and jumped on the train, asking a woman in my seat to move and she did. Silly woman, later on I worked out I was in the wrong carriage because the printing on the ticket looked like a 'D' when it fact it was a 'B'.

Not quite two hours and we pulled into Newark Newgate and then a jump over to the one carriage shuttle into the gorgeous town of Lincoln.

It was very cold and windy and eventually wet as I walked along the canal onto the High Street, cobbled street with the familiar High Street shops and nice architecture. A stop in at Waterstones and on up to the Cathedral. Lovely buildings, very villagey as I climbed up to the church...and I do mean climb. The hill one mounts is called 'Steep Hill' and I am willing to cast my vote for it being the most aptly named street ever. I'm sure my chin touched my knees at one stage.

Towards the end of the ascent I dropped into a little tea house for a bacon butty and a cuppa. Most reviving and got me those last metres up to the old gate that revealed the magnificent cathedral behind it.

This cathedral was the tallest building in the world at the time it was built and it is simply breathtaking, beautiful arches and dome, stained glass, choir and chapter house. Spent a good hour in there and then had a look around the town after happily demounting the hill.

I had a bit of time to fill in before the train left so I picked up a cappuccino and it was barely warm and tasted 'unique'.

Nice trip back although the connection from Newgate was late which meant a bit of a wait in the station.

The horror returned in London with a wait of 40 minutes for a bus even though the crowds at the stop didn't seem quite as horrendous. After a couple of stops I actually got a seat which was a bonus, especially as the trip took AN HOUR, horrendous traffic and of course lots of people getting on and off at each stop.And, as is the way with bus drivers everywhere, the bus terminated, without warning, a few stops short of the destination. No bother for me as it was still only a short walk back to the hotel.

What a day of contrasts and I was hoping the second day of the strike might be called off to save me having to struggle to St Pancras for the Eurostar on the bus.

Thankfully I didn't have to be up too early so had a leisurely breakfast and checked out of the hotel around nine. Decided I'd skip the bus trip and walk to St P even though it is quite a distance from Paddington. Glad I did because the buses passing me were all packed and although the queues were noticeably smaller there was still a crowd trying to force their way in.

It took a bit over an hour to get there but I had a bit of a rest stop at Baker St to stop the sweat and just rest my feet.

No problems going through customs and getting on the train, which was quite full. The two and a bit hour ride passed quickly enough and int Brussels Midi. Worked out the Metro and bought a 5 journey ticket and caught the tram/metro out to Rogier. Of course couldn't work out which exit (the directions were in the abbreviated manner of the locals rather than the full names on my map oh and the map in the station incidentally)but took a punt and surprise surprise it was the right one - I could actually see my hotel from the where I emerged.

Hotel Siru is very nice and a bit quirky and is one of three hotels which occupy the one city block. I like my room (with some whinges)and it's GOT A BATH!!!!!

Ventured out for a look see walk but the rain and wind was too tiresome so just found a supermarket and bought a couple of supplies and returned to the warmth and dryness of my room.

I don't know what goes on around this area but I have never heard so many sirens in one night in my life so combined with the howling wind it was a 'bumpy' night.