New Years

 January 2019

One would think New Years in London would be wonderful, but for us at least, it was nothing to write home about. Maybe it was the fact that we aren't the type of people to go clubbing or wild partying on New Years Eve - for me the ideal is camping in the wilderness, counting down on a wild and windswept beach at midnight. 

Perhaps it didn't help that the year before we had stayed in a wonderful cottage in the English countryside. It was compounded certainly by the fact that we had foolishly decided to go and watch the fireworks from by the river at a vantage point we had read about online. The problem was, so had half of London. Streets thronging with people, places cordoned off by police, it was a crowded, seething nightmare. And it turned out we had gone to the wrong bridge, thus affording us highly mediocre views of the fireworks. Thoroughly regretting our choices and wishing we had simply drunk prosecco in the living room, we made our way home back to Fulham and the cuddly cat. This wasn't an auspicious start to the year, and we probably should have taken it as an omen of not so great things to come - but more on that later.

The only real place of note we went to while at our housesit in Fulham was Richmond Park, one of London's royal parks, where deer have roamed since 1637 (I imagine for the King to hunt at his leisure). The deer are wild, and one shouldn't get too close, nevertheless we managed to spot a number of them chilling out.  

The park was made up of different sections, and we had good fun wandering different garden areas, including taking silly photos. 

Luckily we didn't fall in the icy water with all our posing!

It was only after our visit that I read ticks were common here, and to watch out due to Lyme disease. Ugh! Lucky I hadn't read it before our visit or I would have been wildly paranoid.