It was a cold and rather gloomy morning on my last day in London back in December 2012. I was flying to Copenhagen that night on the eve of Christmas Eve (if there is such a phrase) before the tubes stopped working, and I did not plan for any itinerary for the day (because it completely slipped my mind). I knew Little Venice was just around the corner to where I was staying at Paddington, so I decided to test my sense of direction and just explored the area by foot. Which was a really brave move considering I practically had no sense of direction and had no idea how to get to Little Venice. So I set off from my hostel shortly after breakfast, turned left instead of right as I had done all the days before this on my way to the tube, and started my little walking adventure. I walked for a distance till I reached the end of Westbourne Terrace, and I decided to look back to the street that I have been treading every single day over the past 7 days to find this.
I dutifully followed the vague direction given by the hostel guy and made some other interesting observations along the way. Like how Dudley was a very popular name around the area. But then again, maybe there were other names that were widely used there, but I noticed this because it reminded me of a porky character that Harry Potter had as a cousin.
It was a serene morning with no one in sight, which worried me slightly since I already had the suspicion I was getting lost and these were the only ‘people’ in sight for some time.
I know I am speaking as if I live in ancient time when Google Maps have yet to be invented, but trust me, even with that wonderful technology, I still get lost all the time. But as luck may have it, I made it to Little Venice in the end.
I clearly underestimated my ability since I got there faster than expected. I still had a lot of time to spare so I decided to venture around a little more in the area. I consulted this road sign on where I should head next. And Warwick Avenue it was. I had a lot of fun prying at the posh houses and taking pictures of them. As I walked further on I ended up at Blomfield Road
The people living there have the luxury of living by the canal. Someone’s late mother must have loved to sit by the canal and watch the day pass by. Another road sign led to another turn and somehow I found myself at Regent’s Canal.
My original plan was to make it all the way to Regent’s Park, but I suddenly realised that I had not been to Baker Street! It seemed within walking distance from where I was so I decided to make that my end destination by foot. So off again I went, trusting my instinct and my supposedly improved ability to read maps. For the second time in the day I amazed myself by making it there without any calamity.
I had half mind of visiting the museum but the line of tourists were simply too long and off-putting that I decided a picture outside the museum was somewhat enough to show that I have paid pilgrimage to my favourite detective character.