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Sunday, Aug 14, 2016
It was time to return to the Science Museum. I’d always liked the place a lot. The Tube took me to Kensington and I traversed the long, long underground crossway walk that seems to be one of the earth’s longest tunnels.
At the museum, I gained insight into all sorts of inventions over the years. Gone were the displays involving nuclear physics and computers, but there were new exhibits there. I guess things do change after 14 years.
Once my brain was intellectually full, I exited and boarded the Tube to head over to Kew Gardens. It was another place I kept missing in the past. This time, I made it, and it was a great day for it. The sun was shining and the air wasn’t too hot. The ticket was a bit steep, though there is a lot to see and explore.
I spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around, taking photos left and right, and up and down. I saw all I could and stayed until they were kicking us out at closing.
My original plan had been to take the “Jack the Ripper” tour once again. However, it had occurred to me that it was August and the sky grew dark beyond the 7:30 tour time. That simply would not too. Once could not take an eerie tour like that in daylight. No, no, no. It must be done in the dark. Next time.
Since I had no show that night, I was open for exploring, but figured why not return to Brick Lane for the world’s best curry? I took the Tube north and east, but a station line was closed for construction past a certain point, so the detour added another hour to my trip. I think it took about two hours to reach brick lane from Kew Gardens.
Many hawkers were trying to get people into their restaurants, but I wanted the original from years prior. I finally found it and ran into their hawker outside who invited me in. I mentioned having visited back in 2002 and he was delighted that I had decided to return and even offered a 20% discount.
Okay. Sure.
I sat down and figured I would need some booze for my venture back into super-hot curry. But they then said their liquor license was currently gone and could not sell booze. Yikes! This was not good. But options were limited. I did want to try the same curry again for old times’ sake, and I was already seated with a menu in hand. Very well.
I ordered the same three things as last time: chicken vindaloo, naan, and rice. The waiter seemed a little disappointed it was not more, but heck, it was just me. I wouldn’t be able to eat even that much.
I was pretty darn excited when my food came; thus, I dove in. The verdict?
It was much, much better ... the previous time. Sure, this could be a “Great Gatsby” effect, but I really think the past visit had a stronger menu. This just didn’t have a deep taste to it, though granted, I have been ordering the same set of items at Indian food places for 14 years since first trying them there. I ate what I could and asked for the bill.
Hmmm...no discount. Oversight?
I called the waiter over and explained that the guy outside had promised a 20% discount. I said if they couldn’t honor it, that was fine too (I actually didn’t truly expect them too). But I did want them to know. He took the bill away and came back with the adjustment. I didn’t save much since it was only 16 pounds to begin with, but I used the difference to add to my tip, so I don’t imagine the waiter could be all too upset.
Outside, I chatted with the hawker some more. We talked politics and other matters for a spell. I said the food was good. (Well, it wasn’t bad, just not AS good as before--or even close. But no need to mention that.) I also mentioned the incident with the orange ice cream and how much I missed that. He said to wait while he got something. Minutes later, he returned with a complimentary orange ice cream popsicle, which I was grateful for, though last time it was ice cream inside an orange, but still.
(Oh, I forgot to mention. The ice cream incident was during the first go-around. My mouth was burning up from the intense heat of the spices. And my nose was running. And my eyes were watering. I think I was sweating too. Every pore just had fluid exiting. I saw a couple next to our table enjoying cold, refreshing ice cream in an orange so I summoned the water and asked for some. He said I would need to finish my meal first before getting dessert. Um...okay. Fine. But then he brought some brown sugar and a spoon. That did the trick. The pain lessoned. It was memorable, to say the least.)
I went on my merry way and headed to the hotel. I don’t regret going; I got the urge out of my system and now I know that perhaps the curry there is good, but other places are likely just as good too.
Maybe even better.