Spongebob sez: Welcome to Kensington!

The plane lifted off about 8:15 and arrived at Heathrow a bit before 3 p.m. local time. I had copped a 4 ½ hour block of sleep between movies and breakfast, which is why I feel nearly human right now. The usual long passport check queues, but Customs was a matter of walking through an exit while bored customs employees stood about chatting. I sprang for a £40 taxi ride to spare myself the experience of taking three pieces of luggage on a bus (no tube service from Terminal 4 until September) and two trains, followed by a walk of several blocks from the Earl’s Court tube station to the West Cromwell Hotel.

This was the cheapest hotel deal I could find for an ensuite bath in central London, and while quite clean and not exceedingly dismal, it is the smallest hotel room I’ve ever seen, reached by way of the smallest lift I could have imagined. I used to make jokes about the size of the lift in the Elysee Hotel in Bayswater, where I’ve stayed several times over the years, but this one is half that size, and I was barely able to cram myself and my luggage inside for the trip up to the third floor (that’s the fourth floor to all you Yank types). I knew I had made the right hotel choice when I walked in and saw the Spongebob coverlet on the bed. It’s like being in the guest room at a friend’s house, or – given the size – perhaps the guest bath.

Later I walked down the block to the Tesco supermarket to pick up dinner (wheat rolls and brie, red grapes and cherry yogurt). I was beginning to realize I was in London by that time, but this is the first time that hasn’t seemed exceedingly strange.