Whenever you visit England, it’s good to have a goal. Maybe you want to get a glimpse of the Queen. Maybe you want to eat a heaping plate of bubble and squeak. Maybe you want to frolic in the fountains of Trafalger Square. Maybe you simply want to get rapped in the cakehole by a bobby brandishing a truncheon after a ruck with a pack of hooligans who have lost the plot. Whatever the goal, make it count. Make it your own.
My goal was to have cream tea. Simple. Elegant. Sophisticated. I failed (sort of). Let’s find out why.
After soaking up the British culture in Newport Pagnell for a week doing work, I hopped on a train to London. The plan: spend a few days, see some places I hadn’t been to, eat some proper British food and down a pint or three.
The first full day was to meet up with friends and explore Hampstead in North London.
Fenton House - after a late lunch off the high street of Hampstead, we peeked into a historic house (turned museum) with a large garden and orchid. The owner had collected harpsichords and clavichords like they were going out of style. Actually they were, because do you even know what a harpsichord is?
The house was also full of paintings and other such things that accumulate in old houses over hundreds of years. A small deck on the top floor overlooked downtown London. The garden and orchid were quite nice for a stroll. Cream tea sightings = 0.
Hampstead Heath - you could call it a massive park full of rolling fields of grass and shrubbery, clear lakes, and walking paths lined with weeping willows. Or you could call it heath. Either way, after cavorting on an oddly fallen tree and using the heathland as my stage for a Julie Andrews (a la The Sound of Music) impression, we spied a singular looking mansion in the distance. Luring us. Beckoning us. Tea or not to tea.
Kenwood House & Estate – a set location for the movie Notting Hill (which is not that impressive unless you like Hugh Grant), this gigantic house is surrounded by more idyllic lawns, pathways and lakes.
The house itself boasts an imperial number of paintings and other things snobby, rich people revel in. Such as ballrooms and candlesticks and beauties in gowns and beasts in ruffled suits. After wandering about the museum part aimlessly; maybe perusing the china and baubles, gazing at the portraits of stuffy, unamused people and admiring the art with snobby aloofness; one could be tempted to visit the garden café on the ground level. Maybe something teaish or creamish will be on offer.
Walking along the outside, you soon come to a stone gateway and stairs. The sign on the inside of the gateway says ’Flask Walk’. My kind of place. You take the stairs down and then walk to the café and the large, spacious outdoor seating areas. This place must have cream tea. It’s gonna happen!
The café boasted a British line-up of options. I darted between the various refrigerated displays…seeking, searching. I spied a scone and suddenly stopped. Cut in half with jam and some light, frothy cream (not clotted) inside. Arrggghhhh! So close, but not proper cream tea at all! I bought one anyway, cursing under my breath. I ate it but my quest was in shambles. Time to move on.
Rose Hill – it was time to head over for some evening activities and our lengthy walk passed through Rose Hill, with a nice view of the London Zoo and other things. As the evening dusk began to settle, we continued our quest to…
Camden Town - where we learned upon arrival at the first bar that Amy Winehouse was dead. Her house was mere blocks away. We could have walked over. But that just seemed way too depressing, so we headed over to Hawley Arms Pub, where she was a regular, and had a number of pints that totaled more than one. Some may have been in her honor.
Tea requiem - other things happened in London, that’s another story, but my quest for cream tea did come full circle, in a surprising way. As I was waiting in Heathrow Airport to board my flight home to DC, the customer service desk announced my name. I walked up and they proceeded to upgrade me to FIRST CLASS for FREE. Yes, read that again. Because that’s how I roll. With a cheesy grin on my face, I tested all the various doodads and whatchamacallits and entertainment options that make up the 5% of the plane my lavish seat occupied. Then shortly after take off, the flight attendant brought me…wait for it…CREAM TEA! Warm scones, strawberry jam, clotted cream and a spot of tea.
The End
Happy harpsichord
A Fenton rose by any other name...
Fenton House Garden
Apple Orchid
London, there it is
Heath 2
Hampstead Heath
That looks like some heath over there
Oops, it fell down
Take a walk on the wild side
Not Cream Tea
View from Rose Hill
Camden Town
