I’ve always been a sucker for exotic trips with lots of exclamation points and never really focused on the U.K., figuring it was too tame and had one too many cathedrals and cucumber sandwiches.
But then there I was on a Viking cruise, aptly named “the British Isles Explorer,” suddenly wondering what took me so long to get here.
In the early years, I hung out in Asia with alleged headhunters and cannibals, who most likely weren’t really who they claimed to be but simply tour guides in disguise. There was nothing that exotic or fake in the U.K, but a number of surprises awaited us throughout our 15-day cruise on Viking Mars.
Sailing in the City
We docked on the famous Thames River in the London borough of Greenwich, home of the Royal Observatory, the center for setting the world’s clocks, home to Greenwich Mean Time. While most of the 900 guests on Viking Mars elected to take tours upriver to Buckingham Palace, Westminster Abbey, and Big Ben, we remained in Greenwich.
Instead of upriver, our first surprise was being able to go “under-river,” walking through a foot tunnel beneath the Thames — perhaps even passing directly under our cruise ship — that linked Greenwich with the borough of Millwall on the other side. It was built in 1902 as a free crossover for residents to get to the shipyards and docks, and about a 20-minute walk each way.
Greenwich is both a little run down, with a minestrone of tacky souvenir and take-out food shops, and a lot royal, including the Queen’s Palace and the Royal Naval Academy. But it was a simple statue of one of Britain’s naval heroes, Admiral Horatio Nelson, that stole the show.
During the Napoleonic War in 1805 the admiral was struck by a fatal musket ball. Instead of a burial at sea, the body was preserved in a cask of brandy and lashed to the deck of the ship. When the ship made port, Nelson’s pickled remains were transferred to a lead coffin, again filled with brandy.
Now twice pickled and, with all due respect, DDOA (Dead Drunk On Arrival), he had a major military funeral and up went the statue in Greenwich. His fame … and notoriety for his scandalous preservation … has been rising ever since. We toasted him with a British stout.
We were greeted the next morning by the majestic White Cliffs of Dover, the symbol for home and peace for the troops returning from World War II. And of course for that beautiful song — ”There’ll be bluebirds over … the White Cliffs of Dover … tomorrow, just you wait and see.”
That afternoon we visited charming Canterbury and its famous cathedral (hey, you gotta do at least one), the third-largest in the world and the seat of the Anglican religion. Just up the street, within earshot, is a freaky tourist attraction: Canterbury’s Old Crooked House, leaning forward, looking like it’s about to tumble over any minute.
Built in the 17th century, it’s been….
By Dominick Merle
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