Harry away (Day 1 ish of trip)

(emails sent to Sydney)

Have buggered off to foreign until 16 November.

We had the usual flight with a rather boring wait in Singapore; it was very hot and I couldn't find a branch of Jim Thomson in Terminal 1 to buy new elephant handkerchiefs which is my usual occupation on stop overs at Changi.

The plane was a fairly new BA 777 although I miss the old first class cabin of the 747's which used to be exclusively ours with the others only taking envious peaks (now they can walk through and see that it's not that special; the new seats are ok, no more hunting around on the floor for missed bits when bed time comes). The food was quite good out of Sydney but Singapore dreadful out of Changi (although good scrambled eggs – better than those I had for my second breakfast in Picadilly – cooked on board by the BA staff, who as usual were more helpful than Qantas).

We arrived late at Heathrow although still quite early (5.30 am) and were, after a very very long walk (we have a little too much luggage as you may have noticed) were through customs and immigration and in the taxi (with the assistance of a porter and trolley) by just after 6 am and here at St Pancras after a long ride just after 7 am.

The hotel is very grand and smart inside it's rennovated heritage building, with a lot of restored original 1860's Sir Gilbert Scott features; the ordinary rooms, which we are in, are in a modern wing between the hotel and the station (we look out onto the very tall roof of the station and that is in fact all we can see, although one of the station spires is visible at the extreme right if one stands right at the window). The hotel kindly made the rooms available a bit after 11 am, although we were out.

We went out to breakfast at The Wolsley in Picadilly (an old haunt) and then I went out to Green & Stome the art store in King's Road; after this I was very tired and came back here and semi slept the afternoon with UK television blaring in the background and still very sleepy went to dinner at the Sir Gilbert Scott Restaurant in the old station dining rooms, allegedly run by Marcus Waring from The Berkeley. The bar and dining room are fairly spectacular and I faded quite spectacularly only staying awake to eat some room temperature (and it was a very hot room) Scottish smoked salmon before coming back to bed at 9 pm and sleeping until I woke up with a bump at 2.05 am. It was a typical fashionable London restaurant: very crowded, very busy, very noisy, very big English style menu with a lot of almost non English speaking wait staff, one of whom very kindly helped me down the stairs at the front so I could go back into the hotel through the main entrance which is up a slope but level and has a ramp inside for those of us who are not very good with our walking.

So I've been up since 2.05 am finding things and playing with my new watercolour set painting watercolours of the furniture (getting watercolours on the sheets – I'm sure that they've already had much worse. I've just ordered fish cakes and lemon tart as a sort of a pre breakfast and to make up for the lack of dinner last night. Room service menu quite limited and cheaper than the Australian hotel equivalent. The bathrooms are not well designed which has annoyed my mother who considers the whole hotel a wasted opportunity which I probably have to agree. There's a lot of ok looking but not good quality furniture crowded into a fairly small room; it's under resourced by Australian standards with a limited mini bar and bathroom cosmetics (shower stuff and cotton wool buds etc only). It's more expensive than an average equiva;ent hotel room and indeed quite a bit dearer than my usual room at The Berkeley (although I usually get rooms at the original rate from my first stay there). The staff are helpful although extremely slow in answering the telephone – it usually takes several attempts to reach anyone.

Breakfast of very nice Scottish salmon in fish cakes, toast, coffee and lemon tart with pinkish ?redcurrant and yoghurt ice cream has just arrived delivered by the usual escaped Chinese peasant boy (just like The Menzies. although the food is much, much better) and been consumed and I'm about to jettison the trolley outside the door. The butter is very good (from the Netherlands according to the wrapper although I can't read the fine print in this lowish light so it maybe from an English farm called "Netherlands Farm", which is not impossible); toast and coffee are better than in the past, everything was carefully cooked and served although the lemon tart was a bit pallid with undercooked pastry (a very common problem). Marcus Waring would be proud of the food as it was very close to the specified standard.

My mother has already got annoyed with the taxi rates; this hotel is very isolated from the fashionable parts of the city (ie Mayfair/Picadailly/Regent Street and basically a £20 taxi ride is involved to get to and from here; we are staying here another two times before we return to the recently renovated Citadines in Gloucester Road for our last 10 days in London (although I did most of my rounds in a couple of hours this morning – the art supply store was out of stock of most of their own brand watercolour pads which I came to get and as usual Parker's in Sydney has a bigger and better range of stock). There's only two more art supply places to go too; Cornelliessen's near the British Museum and the Royal Watercolour Society for watercolour pads near the Tate Modern at Bankside.

I'm going back to bed for (I hope a brief sleep before packing everything up to go to Paris on the 11.30 am Eurostar from 6 floors below; hope this is achieved without the usual Eurostar trauma; tickets were bought, to my mother's shock at the prices (it's a Sydney/Melbourne Sydney/Brisbane return business class air fare for a Business Premium – ƒirst has been abolished even though it's only half the distance; I'm sure Qantas could make a go of high speed trains in the Brisbane/Sydney/Canberra/Melbourne corridor once they're built, based on these fairs, which are fare from cheap).

London is as usual very busy and full of people including lots of visiting Europeans (and no doubt lot's of Australian's – the plane was fairly full when it left Sydney and filled up with both UK and Australian nationals in Singapore), and yesterday was the hottest September day ever recorded with the temperature in the north London suburbs reaching 30 C (at Hendon, according to the BBC television news) in the afternoon; it's going to be just as hot today in Paris; cool weather isn't coming until Sunday so we're in for a few warm days in countries that don't have proper air conditioning in many public buildings (or any at all in some places in Paris). The air con however works well enough in the bedrooms here where it has remained on 20 C since I arrived and now it's quite cool.

The phone cards with UK number's I had sent from Melbourne have refused to connect to the UK phone system so I'm relying on hotel room internet connection and what expensive Telstra roaming I already have (which has worked on iPhone and iPad although I've turned off Mail collection to save money); no doubt I'll work out the UK connection bit when I'm back in London at the end of the trip. In the meantime we can be reached on our usual Australian mobile numbers, or best by email to my usual adress, which is simply like going back to pre iPhone/iPad times and only being able to check email when I'm in the hotel.

I was just too tired to deal with the Apple Store in Regent Street and calling the phone card people although they have a UK number and the above will have too do.

I and my mother are already regretting the amount of stuff which we have brought with us and to which I have added a few art store, Burlington Arcade (looking a bit folorn) and Fortnum's (staff as daffy as ever) purchases.

Mail doesn't seem to be going out this morning although I successfully sent one to Barry late yesterday afternoon, so no doubt you'll get this eventually.

Didn't make the Rothko's at the Tate Modern on my first days as is my usual practice but will no doubt eventually make; Degas at the Ballet exhibition at Royal Academy which I will visit on retrun to London; doesn't seem to be very much on of note in Paris but will finally try and make it to Jeu de Paume to see whatever impressionists are there.

[the themes for the trip have already emerged: telephone trouble and too much bagage; they'res more aircon in Paris than there used to be and it's more efficient; the baggage is about to be reorganised at considerable expenses with a visit to the Tumi section in Bon Marche when it re opens on Monday morning; typing is also going to be a problem as it's 4.52 am local and I can't see all that well when I type ....