Bits and Bobs: Pilgrimage on the Number 9

Friday, January 3, 2020: Today I ventured into London Town on my own. Having decided that I am not ready to independently maneuver the chaotic crowds nor labyrinth of stairs and escalators that constitute passage on the tube, I journeyed on my preferred choice of transportation: a seat in the front row, at-the-top-of-the-staircase, of a bright red London double decker bus!

The No. 9 bus takes 50 minutes to get from Hammersmith to Aldywch and it is an astonishing ride. As the bus slowly bobs across the cityscape, the spirit, grandeur and sheer beauty of London is revealed in ephemeral glances. From Hammersmith, the bus travels down Kensington High Street and alongside Hyde Park while passing the handsome Royal Albert Hall and opulent Prince Albert Monument. The bus then snakes its way around Hyde Park Corner and the Wellington Arch before travelling into Knightsbridge and Picadilly with its nonstop parade of shoppers entering and exiting such revered institutions as Fortnum & Mason Department Store. The bus then travels by Piccadilly Circus and Trafalgar Square, through the theater district until it finally comes to stop at Aldwych (Drury Lane), just outside the Aldwych Theater. From the upper deck of the No. 9, one can witness what a marvelous metropolis London is.

I knew what I was looking for, but I wasn't sure where to find it. I was on a pilgrimage to find what is said to be the oldest Roman Catholic Church in England, the church of Saint Etheldreda. Not having a cell phone, I asked passers-by if they where Ely Place was. They looked at me puzzled. However, in London every few blocks there are maps posted for pedestrians that clearly show "You are here," and provide directions to nearby notable sights. After a short walk, I found it. It was hidden down a quiet and tidy lane and squeezed in-between more modern (but not modern at all) buildings. Here was the Church of St. Etheldreda, built at the end of the 13 century, over 700 years ago. Alas, it was closed this afternoon. I will return. I read that a stained glass window inside the church now depicts a few of the martyred monks tortured and killed under Henry VIII for refusing to acknowledge him as the head of the Church of England.

The French have a number of words for wandering or taking a stroll: se promener, balader, flâner. This is what I did next. This part of London seemed very old to me, yet I observed modern high-rises with bold and intriguing designs among the castle-like buildings and quaint churches. As I walked along, I saw something in the distance, that I did not expect to come upon. It was St. Paul's Cathedral, a house of worship built by Christopher Wren after the great fire of 1666. Serendipity. Alas, I will have to explore that magnificent church another day. My day is done.