United Kingdom 2006
  
 

Day 01

August 19

 
 

The flight over is pretty uneventful, just long. I flew from Nashville on Continental with a connection in Houston. I didn't even have any trouble in the luggage screening when I checked in Nashville. I was really surprised at that, since the terror alert had been escalated and you were not allowed to carry on any bags. I usually just bring two river bags that pack nicely on the bike, but I have to bring my hard suitcase since I cannot bring my helmet on the plane. I know how delicate the luggage handlers are so I don't want to chance any damage to the helmet. As is my usual habit, I sleep most of the way over so that I can stay awake today and reset my bodyclock to the UK time. I am really glad when we land in Gatwick around 10 AM and I can stand upright and walk a little bit. Airplane seats have never been designed with fellers my size in mind. When I get to the British customs, the officer ask me why I am here and I tell her -

"I'm planning on motorcycling up into Scotland then over into Ireland and back."

I guess she figures I look kind of harmless and if I'm going to do that, then I'm probably bit daft also. So she waves me through and I make my way toward ground transportation. I think I've got a pretty good grip on what train and bus connections I need to make, so I figure I'll find out soon enough. As I walk out with all my stuff, who should be standing there waiting on me but Moff, one of my best UK friends. I give him a great big hug and thank him for coming all the way to Gatwick.

"No problem, mate" he tells me then we're off like a rocket. He knows the way like the back of his hand and shows his policeman's ID which gets us through the tube (or subway for state siders) turnstiles very quickly.

"They let me park my bike at Brewer's for no charge, so I decided I would come to meet you."

And I am very thankful because in my jet lag state, all my synapses are not synapsing. Before long, we are at The Brewer's Inn where I have made reservations for both of us for the evening.

 
 
 
  The folks remember me from the last time and Moff and I go upstairs to deposit my luggage. I grab my riding gear and we strike out on the 200 yard walk up the hill to AboutTown where there is an ST1300 waiting with my name on it. It's a different color than what you see in the states - a grayish black color. To the right of it is the silver one that I rode last year up to Scotland and around England.  
 
 
 

Mike runs the place and is great to deal with, so it doesn't take us long to get the paperwork in proper order. Once again he reminds me that the lane right out of the shop is a bus lane and if I get in it, I will get a ticket.

  
 
 
 

 He pulls the ST1300 out to the front and we do a careful walk around. We do have a bit of a discussion about tires because I know how I quickly I can wear them out. Then I'm off and down the hill to Brewers where I will load it up for the trip tomorrow. Moff and I have decided that we will tour the Tower of London today since neither one of us has ever been there. Moff was born in Stepney, a section of London - in fact he can lay claim to being a true Cockney. According to traditional definition, a "true" cockney is someone born within earshot of the Bow Bells, i.e. the bells of Saint Mary-le-Bow church in Cheapside in the City of London.

Thanks to the excellent public transit in London, we can leave the bikes at the pub and make our way toward the Tower. Once we get within easy walking distance, we come to a peaceful walkway that borders the Thames. As we go along, Moff tells me -

"That is the bridge that the American who purchased the London bridge thought that he was buying."

It is called the Tower Bridge and I am impressed every time that I see it.

 
 
 
  As we walk along the bank of the Thames, we see the HMS Belfast, which played a significant role in the Normandy landing. It is now a floating museum, open to the public.  
 
 
  Soon we come to the visitor's entrance to the Tower Of London. For simple folks like me, I just assumed it was just a tower from the name. But it is a sizable complex that was expanded for almost one thousand years. It has been the royal residence, the royal armory, the depository of the Crown Jewels, and the execution site for some deserving and undeserving men and women that were famous and not so famous.  
 
 
 

From the inside courtyard, you can see a section of a wall that the Romans built when they occupied this part of the world. Just behind it are the quarters for the ravens that occupy the Tower for good reasons. The legend has it that if the ravens should ever leave the Tower of London, the White Tower will crumble and a great disaster shall befall England. So these ravens are taken care of to be sure that they cannot fly.

  
 
 
  Throughout the Tower Complex you will see the Yeoman Warders or Waiters. They are not to be called 'Beefeaters' because it would be a derogatory term for them. Their original job was to watch the gates and oversee the prisoners kept within the Tower. They claim their heritage back to at least 1485 and the reign of Henry the VII. They now serve as excellent hosts and guides of the facility.  
 
 
  Throughout the complex are various models and exhibits. This gives you a clearer idea of just how large the site actually is and how many buildings it contains.  
 
 
  There are also many exhibits of armor and weapons through the buildings, This is the armor that King Henry the VIII wore. Standing in front of it, you suddenly realize that he was a pretty good sized feller!  
 
 
  The Royal Armory is a fascinating place to visit to see the vast amounts of the older types of weapons that were top technology in their day. The row upon row of old flintlock pistols are displayed in an artistic fashion.  
 
 
  The number of muskets on display are hard to imagine and they all look as if you could grab one right now and fire it. It makes me cringe to think how big a hole one of these weapons could make in a man.  
 
 
  Since the Tower of London was also the site of many beheadings, they have on display one of the actual chopping blocks with the ax that was used to administer justice and sometimes injustice.  
 
 
  When we go back out into the courtyard, I see these two Tower ravens carrying on what appears to be a serious private conversation. I guess they are discussing that 'funny tawking feller' from Alabama that did not come over this time.  
 
 
 

We enter into the chamber that was the last abode for Sir Walter Raleigh. While imprisoned in this room from 1603 to 1617, he wrote 'The History of the World'. His parting comment as he felt of the ax that would take off his head in Westminister -

"It is a sharp remedy, but a sure cure for all ills."

  
 
 
  As we descend into the lower chambers of the Tower, we see a very effective instrument for exacting anything you would like from the person attached thereupon.  
 
 
  As we leave the Tower site, it makes a imposing contrast against the skyline of London. No one can imagine or comprehend the suffering, intrigue and fortunes won and lost within those ancient walls.  
 
 
  We make our way back to Brewer's for the evening and enjoy a delightful meal in the restaurant there. Moff talks me into the sausage and mash which is really good eating. Then Guy would be proud of us both when we follow up with chocolate brownies. The plan is to get up early tomorrow before the streets are crowded so we can make our escape up to the Lake District to meet Moff's family, then on to Moffat to meet David and spend the night at his flat in Scotland. So it's lights out and I am past ready - my tired body has been screaming for sleep since I got off the plane. Now I know that I will sleep the sleep of a dead man as my internal clock begins to set itself five hours forward.