52 Rupert Street Soho

This is the view from the window in the flat where we slept in London.
52 Rupert Street in Soho, the theater district in London is a small side street off Shaftsbury Avenue the BIG theater street in London. Only 5 minutes walk and you are in Piccadilly Circus with the famous statue of Eros. This is the busiest of the three local squares in this part of London. The other two are Leicester Square and Trafalgar Square. This is an exciting part of the city with clubs and theaters and restaurants AND a big Chinatown. Trafalgar Square is the home of the Statue of Nelson, the National Gallery and the National Portrait Gallery as well as St. Martins church. We would walk to Trafalgar Square to reach Charing Cross Train Station and the bridge over the Thames to the National Theater and the Old Vic.
Rupert Street is a busy neighborhood: strip joints, prostitutes, druggies, alchoholics, clubs and lots of noise. There is a little neighborhood grocery store on Rupert Street, directly opposite Number 52.
It was there that I was supposed to get the keys for the flat. I arrived in Heathrow at 8:30 in the morning. Judy was still in Vienna and wouldn't arrive until the next morning. Since I couldn't get the keys until about 2:00, I decided to wait in the warmth of Heathrow until I took the Tube into Piccadilly. Along with everyone else on the flight, I got to the passport control section of the airport and it was completely jammed. There was at least a one hour wait before you could reach an inspector. People were in a crazy, festive mood as they got off the plane, but this disappeared as they shuffled back and forth through the roped area. It took almost 90 minutes before I was first in line. The inspector asked a few questions and then I took off to the baggage area to get the bag. It had taken so long at the passport area that all the bags had been taken off the belt and were stacked up on the floor. Finally, I got the bag and went through Customs. It was almost 11:00 in the morning, too early to go into the city. I went to a cafe in the airport and had a pot of tea and two delicious oat and raisin biscuits. I sat there and waited for one hour. I was TIRED.
At 12:00 I went to the Tube and took the Piccadilly Line to Piccadilly Circus, arriving there at about 12:45. I decided that I was going to ask for the key early and went to the grocery store. I gave them the letter from the owner, Pieter, and they gave me the key.
I opened the front door and there they were: THE STAIRS!! Very winding and very steep stairs, just like a house in The Hague. But, very daunting and narrow. The suitcase was too heavy to carry all at once. I had to hoist it up about three steps and then walk up to it. Hoist it again. Step again. Hoist. Step. Flat 12 was on the Third Floor. Somehow I made it without falling down. As soon as I got in, I telephoned Richard Eisermann (El Gigante) and we arranged to meet at 5:00 on Bow Street for the theater that night.
I hit the sack for two hours, from 1:00 to 3:00 and woke up feeling good. I unpacked the suitcase and decided to take a walk. The sun was shining and it was bright and warm outside. I went down the stairs VERY slowly and went outside. It WAS warm. I strolled to Piccadilly Square, then up Regent Street to Oxford Street. I was in London. The weather was friendly and the place was jammed with tourists. It was fun. I walked up by Hamley's Toy Store where magicians and jugglers were entertaining people on the sidewalk. I got to Oxford Street and strolled toward Charing Cross road. As I walked, I saw a sign for Tesco's Supermarket and stopped there to shop. The apartment was very clean and tidy, but there were no paper towels, only bath towels. There were no waste baskets or garbage bags. I bought mandarins, two bottles of water, grapefruit juice, cheddar cheese, Philadelphia cream cheese, margarine and paper towels and garbage bags. I even bought a cloth Tesco shopping bag. The check out lady told me that I could return to Shaftbury Avenue by walking "right down Dean Street to the very end, dear." The bag was heavy but I felt good and set off. In half an hour I was back near Rupert Street and there I found a French bakery with fresh baguettes and, of course, delicious pastry. I bought a bread and an apple donut and went to the flat.
I waited until about 4:00 and took off to walk to Bow Street where the National Opera is and the famous Covent Garden Market. It was an easy walk and I got there in half an hour. The street performers were out in force, the place was packed with tourists, the music was great and the sun was shining. I walked around and then at 5:00 went to Bow Street behind the Opera House. No El Gigante. I walked up and down the street and no luck. Finally I stopped a the corner of the street in a little square and waited. My phone rang: "Where are you?" he asked. "I'm here. On Bow Street." "Where on Bow Street?" "What do you mean: the street is tiny. I'm HERE. Here! Where do you think I am?" "Do you see me? I'm at the Post Box in the middle of the street." By god, there he was, right in front of me, just as big as life.
A big hug and then, "What do you say to a delicious gelato?" And off we went to his favorite Italian ice cream store, right up the street. I had something called Devil's Chocolate, which was double chocolate with double chocolate bits in it. I needed five napkins by the way.
We had a 7:00 show, so we walked slowly to the theater, on The Strand.
What did we see: It was called MASTERCLASS, by Terence McNally, and is about Maria Callas, the famous tempermental Greek soprano, giving a master class to three students at the end of her career. After the play, we walked back to Rupert Street and Richard took me to a little French restaurant he knew. In fact, he knew the waiters there. We sat at the bar and ate little dishes like clams and cheeses. I went upstairs and hit the sack. Day One over. Next day, Judy early in the morning.