St. Pancras train station, 19th century:
21st century and many millions of pounds later:
Renovated, restored, transformed: the upper stories are actually the St. Pancras Chambers apartments, 67 condominiums occupying former staterooms. We stayed in the multilevel clock tower apartment, and yes, the clocks are still in operation, and someone shows up every now and then and climbs the many stairs to maintain the works. Our host invited us to dinner one night, and we ate inside the tower: amazing views, but the space is just about impossible to heat!
The last time we were at St. Pancras station was in 2009, and while the Eurostar was already using the station, the shops were not in place yet. One of the great things about staying in one of the St. Pancras Chambers apartments is that you will never starve to death, given the wide variety of restaurants and cafes — as well as the two Marks & Spencer stores — in the train station. And of course, King’s Cross, with its own slate of eateries, is just across the road.
The arched dome was just amazing, and one of the most gorgeous piece of engineering and architecture I have ever seen. The days we were there the NHS blood drive had set up a donation center inside King’s Cross train station; the campaign slogan was “Blood Does Not Grow on Trees.” Maybe not, but outside the station, the trees had been yarn bombed:
I thought it was an effective way to publicize a blood drive.
One of the funnest things we did on this trip was walk around Westminster Abbey and explore the various courtyards behind it. And, lots of pictures of gargoyles:
One day we took a walk in the neighborhoods surrounding Kensington High Street, and ended up at The Roof Gardens (owned by Richard Branson’s Virgin Limited Edition). 1.5 acres of gardens (English Woodlands, Spanish, and Tudor) on top of the former Derry and Toms department store building on Kensington High Street. Among the permanent inhabitants are four flamingos named Bill, Ben, Splosh, and Pecks:
No idea which flamingo this was, but he went about his business without fuss. Except when you get in his way, then he lets off a pretty loud call, somewhere between a squawk and a honk.
It was a mellow trip: we did not “do” much, but the experiences were priceless.