Storytime, readers! Here’s a small recap of Pop!Thorin’s trip to London.
The King had demanded he wanted to go back to the place he has such happy memories of. It just so happened that his PA aka Guylty had a business trip scheduled for this week, and so he latched on and came along. We were treated to a fancy British Airways flight right into London. Thorin fully approved of London City Airport. Getting off the plane and into public transport literally took 5 minutes! And arriving at the hotel another 30 minutes.
London City Airport is the new airport of choice for Thorin and his entourage!!!
The hotel proved to be worthy of the King. It was comprised of four historic buildings that had been converted into “The Rookery”, and was furnished with antiques through-out, down to the fittings in the bathrooms. Instead of impersonal room numbers, all rooms had been given the name of a RL person who had once occupied the buildings. (Aside:
My Our room was named after a servant, Thomas Percy, who had initially started out as the apprentice to a wine-merchant but could not stick the “monotonous employment of drawing-off, bottling, corking and binning” of wine, the folder with his life story that was left in our room informed me. No luxurious tasting of Pinot Noir then, Thomas? “My time there dragged on as a lengthened and galling chain: for my health, always weak, was greatly impaired by constant confinement in damp, murky cellars. I stole an occasional half hour in the morning, between seven and eight o’clock, to look at the sky, breathe a little fresh air and wander in the vicinity of my prison cave.” Aw, poor sod. He essentially couldn’t stick it, released himself from his apprenticeship and became the servant of a cheesemonger in the street the hotel is located in. He died of pneumonia in 1865, aged 37.) The room as it is now, most certainly would not have been as luxurious in 1865. I did a little walk-through for you and captured it on my phone:
Suffice to say, Thorin approved. The room was more Locksley than Erebor, but well, this was London, not Middle-earth, so he had to content himself with what we got. The pillows were soft and the linen spotless.
The hotel did not feature a breakfast room – which meant that breakfast had to be eaten in bed. The hardship!
Those freshly baked croissants were to-die-for. The tea wasn’t bad, either, made even sweeter by Thorin’s antics. He’s quite a cheery fellow when he relaxes, you know…
The only thing he really was rather annoyed with was the over-sized bathrobes the hotel supplied. I think he has a point there…
Thorin insisted that we visit the scene of his anointment ceremony, and so on Wednesday evening after work we met with Hariclea and relived a few sentimental memories in Waterloo. Not to be outdone by a mere *building*, Thorin creeped into the shot… hence he’s a bit out of focus down there at the bottom…
He was hungry after the visit to the stage door, and so he allowed Hariclea to take us to a restaurant on The Cut, which apparently some actor-fella had once graced with his presence, too…
It was a lovely evening in Olivelli’s, which we spent sitting at a table outside, enjoying the glorious
and very reasonably priced!! Italian food. Thank you to Hariclea for entertaining me ❤
Alas, the Friday morning was our last in the hotel. Thorin heartily endorses the place:
Did I say Friday morning was the last of our London stay? Well, the story continues. PA Guylty had been
publicly complaining on Twitter about leaving sunny and warm London for rainy and cold Dublin. The universe stepped in immediately. Due to a major fuck-up, Guylty took herself and her charge to back to London City Airport for a flight due to leave at 5.25 pm. Arriving at the airport with two and a half hours to spare, she dawdled between tea, sandwiches and a smoke before she finally decided to check the entourage in. And only then, an hour before the scheduled departure, did she notice she had actually gone to the wrong airport!!! The flight back was from Heathrow, not City. What a doozy! Off to the British Airways ticket desk to rebook onto a later flight to Dublin. Except that one of the day’s remaining scheduled flights to Dublin had been cancelled, hence the sole remaining flight was heavily overbooked, as were all flights out of Heathrow that night. There was no other way than to spend another night in London. Yes, the hardship!!
Well, let’s just say, thank cod for good friends in London! My friends who had hosted me for my previous London antics (AUJ premiere 2012, two Crucible visits 2014) jumped into the breach and offered Thorin and myself a bed for the night. The adage “princess on the pea” comes to mind, eh, Thorin??? Ok, he was a bit tetchy by that point because my friends have a penchant for – wait for it – dragons!!! Thorin was not amused and had Orcrist at the ready at all times!
Anyway, we eventually left London on Saturday evening, after Thorin had dug into a chocolate
mountain muffin in memory of Caffe Nero on The Cut where we had drunk many a cappuccino during the “Summer of Love”…
And thus the unexpected journey finally came to an end. But not to a denouement – in fact a new climax awaited us as mail and packages had piled up for us during our absence. Remember Sinnamin and her darling plushies? Well, she surprised me with a pressie:
Look at that plushie Thorin brooch – it even has the metal hair clips!!! And the Red Dragon sign will come in handy next week, I should think.
Fellow fan Tommie completely buttered me
up out with a shipment of peanut butter M&Ms and some gorgeous mixture of amaretto, honey and butter, as well as some cute tins (see above).
And Donna, whom I had sent one of the last few fandom identifier badges, returned the favour with a cool Irish themed badge for me (right).
It sure is hard to say good-bye to London
even if you are not a total eejit who doesn’t cop on which airport to fly out from, but it is very easy to come home to such lovely gifts! Maybe I need to go away more often?
Thorin could not wait to try out his new flower crown courtesy of Sinnamin. So I leave you with a happy Thorin – don’t be fooled by the ironically raised left Royal eyebrow. It’s good to be back!