Hell on the M25

We spent our final day in the UK reviewing toy samples and meeting with our second-largest supplier in Folkestone. It was miserable weather all day. At one stage, the rain was so heavy that we could barely see more than 50-100 metres ahead of us on the M25.

Disaster struck on our drive back to Heathrow. An accident on the M25 Ring Road saw westbound traffic brought to a halt for more than 45 minutes, about an hour’s driving time south of Heathrow (according to Google Maps). Even more frustrating, we'd just passed the last viable off-ramp, less than 100 metres behind us.  The accident was also less than 500 metres ahead.  Had we driven through ten minutes earlier, we'd have missed it.

Traffic alerts warned that the motorway wouldn’t reopen until 6:30pm. The bag drop for our flight closed at 7:10pm. Google Maps said it would take at least 48 minutes to reach the rental car depot. Surrounded by four lanes of traffic going nowhere, Garry and I quietly resigned ourselves to our fate. Another flight missed.

Then, a small miracle occurred. The road reopened shortly after 6:00pm. Even better, the lengthy road closure had cleared all previously reported congestion approaching Heathrow. Google Maps claimed we’d now reach the rental car depot in 30 minutes. The race was on.

We pulled into the depot at 6:35pm. Our lucky streak continued when a dedicated shuttle bus bound for our terminal arrived six minutes later. Upon hearing of our dilemma, the driver offered to take us there immediately.

Qantas called me as we approached the terminal (I guess there are benefits to flying First Class, even on a points upgrade). When they heard how close we were, they offered to keep check-in open until we arrived. Our bags were finally tagged and dropped shortly after 7:00pm. We’d miraculously made our flight with barely minutes to spare. Never again!

We’re now in Singapore reacclimatizing to warmer weather in preparation for our final flight home on Sunday. Loving our hotel on Sentosa Island. It was once home to the British Army barracks. A quick dip in the pool is the perfect antidote for jet lag. And before you ask, we cashed in more Amex loyalty points to pay for these fancy digs.

Even better the second time

It's great to be back in London. This year, we're focusing on something akin to a greatest-hits itinerary. For the last few years, we've focused on visiting sights which opened after COVID, or since our return to Australia. For example, we're staying at one of our favourite hotels, the Radisson Blu Mercer Street, opposite Seven Dials.

On Saturday, after flying in from Nuremberg, we went for a wander through Covent Garden and grabbed a beer at Punch & Judy. They've been pouring pints here since 1787. We sat on the outdoor balcony overlooking the market square, reminiscing about our life in London. At AUD30 for two pints, we certainly miss earning British pounds. Dinner was at Gaucho, an Argentine-themed restaurant.

Tonight, we headed out to Stratford to relive the ABBA Voyage experience. We loved it two years ago. I bought us some encore tickets after learning that the complex is scheduled for demolition in June. However, recent news reports suggest that the high-density housing development scheduled to replace it will now be built in stages. If this happens, the arena will remain standing until 2029.  

Tonight's show was just as good, if not better, the second time around. It's still hard to believe it's all virtual reality.  The video rendering is also showing its age. Garry and I agree that some of the AV sequences could do with a little AI retouching. 

Dinner tonight was provided courtesy of Old Crompton Brasserie. We now know that Colchester oysters pair beautifully with a Hibiscus Pisco Sour. Yum!

When in Rome...

For the entire time Garry and I lived in London we never indulged in a High Tea. This quintessentially British tradition was conceived by high society in the Victorian era. At the time most people ate a hearty breakfast and often didn’t dine again until the evening.

The Victorians began taking afternoon tea to bridge the gap. By the end of the century, afternoon tea had become a daily ritual for the upper classes, though it had spread in various forms through much of the rest of society too.

In the more privileged households the ladies would dress for the occasion whether at home or out in public, and the selection of goodies on the tea tray become equally elaborate. Pastries, scones, clotted cream, delicate cakes, and the ubiquitous thinly sliced cucumber sandwiches.

While in London last month we took time out one Sunday afternoon to treat ourselves and a long-time friend to a decadent High Tea. I booked us into the ornately decorated Oscar Wilde Lounge at the Café Royal in Piccadilly Circus. The afternoon was totally over the top but heaps of fun.

We spent almost four hours drinking champagne and nibbling on canapes and petit cakes while being entertained by a pianist on a grand piano. Our waiter even put on a show for us. Our empty flutes were regularly topped up with an outstretched pouring ritual that I’m honestly not game to try at home.

Chalcots Estate

In 2008 I published a post about the Chalcots Estate towers scattered along our street in London.  At the time their drab and stained concrete exteriors were being re-clad in modern aesthetic thermal panelling.  The work was part of a comprehensive £66 million refurbishment that saw flats receive an extensive exterior upgrade and new internal fittings.

  

The estate consists of five towers spaced approximately 100 metres apart.  Four of the five towers rise an impressive 67 metres (219 feet) or 23 storeys. Their residents enjoy one of London’s most enviable skyline views; especially those living on the south side. Towards the south lucky residents enjoy sweeping views across Primrose Hill and Regents Park and on towards to the Palace of Westminster and the River Thames. 

Roll the clock forward nine years and the same buildings are back in the news this week.  Sadly the news isn’t good.  On the evening of 14 June a faulty fridge exploded on the fourth floor of Grenfell Tower a similar housing estate tower near Ladbroke Grove.  Within minutes the fire, which should be contained within a single apartment, swept up the building’s 70 metre (220ft) exterior.  At least 79 people are believed to have died. Nine people are still in hospital, of which three are in critical care.

The speed at which the Grenfell Tower fire spread and the deadly destruction it’s caused has stunned the nation. The building had recently been re-clad in shiny new insulating panels identical to those used on the Chalcots Estate towers. Tragically, these panels have proven to be highly inflammable and thus wholly unsuitable for high-rise buildings.   

Since the fire testing on similar cladding across London and the UK has found hundreds of buildings harbour the same catastrophic fire risk. Yesterday Camden Council, the authority responsible for Chalcots Estate, ordered an evacuation of its towers. An urgent review had revealed numerous fire hazards resulting from their earlier refurbishment beyond the risk posed by deadly thermal cladding.

Residents living in 711 high rise homes were given just hours to gather their belongings and vacate every building.  Some are now temporarily housed in a nearby recreation centre while others have been placed in surrounding hotels.  Residents are expected to be homeless for several weeks as urgent repairs begin. Eventually the cladding on all five buildings will also be replaced.

Garry and I watched the news in awe as the streets from our old London neighbourhood were broadcast around the world.  For years while on our way to catch the Underground to and from work we’d walk past three of these towers and the local recreation centre. My daily commute also took me past the Grenfell Tower. 

The Grenfell Tower was a prominent landmark.  I use to marvel at the way my elevated train line curved around two sides of the building. The entire experience always struck me as one of those iconic Hollywood establishment shots that a director would use to develop a movie's opening scene.  

It’s hard to imagine that the same landmark is now a blackened, charred hulk.  I also find it hard to comprehend how such deadly material ever came to be used on high rise buildings across the UK. Tonight Garry and I are quietly thanking our good fortune that our Sydney apartment is clad in brick and painted concrete slabs.  Our hearts go out to all those affected by this month’s tragic events.  

Royal wedding fever

Garry and I have been taking a trip down memory lane this evening as the wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton is broadcast live around the world. The pair exchanged their vows before 1900 guests in Westminster Abbey - and a global television audience of two billion people - while another million people waited patiently on the streets of central London. Four out of five free-to-air channels in Australia broadcast the ceremony live; with at least four cable channel also providing live coverage.

So much of what we're seeing brings back personal memories. Where do I start?  For example, we recall the spectacle of the Royal Guard marching down The Mall during the Trooping of the Colour; and waving at the Queen as she rode by in an open carriage.  I also recall the colourful Union Jack bunting hung down the Mall every Spring and the sound of Westminster Abbey's stunning acoustics as the choir practised for an evening service.

However, perhaps our strongest memories are those from one sunny Sunday afternoon last September.  Literally days before Garry's appendix suddenly burst we toured the spectacular State Rooms inside Buckingham Palace. It's hard to believe those same grand rooms are now hosting a lavish wedding reception. While television cameras aren't permitted inside, so vivid are the memories of our tour, I can honestly picture the scene that's probably unfolding as I type this post. London really was our home for the last five years.

UPDATE: May 2, 2011

This fascinating royal wedding factiod was published by the BBC today:

The National Grid said its figures showed a huge surge in demand for power after the service - equivalent to one million kettles being boiled - when the royal couple returned to Buckingham Palace. Over the course of the day power use rose and fell during key moments - with the biggest drop in demand when the couple made their balcony appearance and people stopped what they were doing and turned back to their televisions.

I bet a similar surge in domestic water usage also occured after the wedding as well. We're clearly creatures of habit. 

London life has its moments

We’ve just experienced the wettest April day in Sydney for more than a decade. It’s a timely reminder that life in Australia wasn’t as perfect as I’d often imagined while living in London. Since our return home people have been asking me if I miss the UK. While it’s true that I don’t miss the grey skies and drab sunlight of London, I do miss a few things.  Here's a list of things London really does better:

• The extent and variety of reliable online shopping. Australian retailers are well behind the rest of the world.
• The underground. Sydney trains are slow to load, always late and still use inflexible paper tickets. I miss my Oyster card.  I read today that Sydney's own Oyster card based system won't be in place until 2014.
• Low-fat pesto. I never thought I’d miss Sainsbury’s home brand pesto. Sydney supermarkets only offer full fat varieties. However, on the flip side I'm please to have low-fat feta cheese back on the shelf.
• Cheap European cars. While we were away Australia’s luxury car tax rose to 35% making an average European vehicle up to 50% more expensive.
• More entertainment options.  Nothing bets the variety on offer in the West End any night of the week.  Sydney definitely has fewer cultural options on the go.

Gone!

We've just arrived in Vienna after an uneventful flight from Heathrow. I'm not too proud to admit that as our plane lifted off the runway a few tears welled up. That's it. We don't live in Europe anymore.

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Location:Busstraße,,Austria

Royal riots

Our last full day in London has dawned with news that a car carrying Prince Charles and the Duchess of Cornwall was attacked by protesters last night. The heir to the British throne was en route to the annual Royal Variety Performance when a mob, protesting against higher university tuition fees, set upon his car. The rear passenger window was cracked, the doors dented by kicks, and the vehicle splattered with white paint. The couple were understandably shaken but unharmed.

All week the capital has been gripped by increasingly violent protests as the Government prepared to vote on higher fees. Parliament approved the fee hike yesterday in a vote commentators are calling the first real test of the nation's coalition Government.  Twenty one Liberal Democrat MPs eventually voted against the measure, reducing the Government's majority by 42 votes. 

The increase is yet another unpopular measure set in place as part of the Government's growing austerity program. Such protests and their depressing headlines are increasingly a sign of the times in Europe. It's hard not to feel that perhaps Garry and I have chosen a good time to return to Australia.

Clean and empty

It's official. We no longer live at Swiss Cottage. The last box was loaded onto the truck about 5pm last night. By 8pm, the last of the final deep clean had been finished. What was once our home is now an empty apartment. At 2pm today, we'll complete an inspection with the landlord and hand over our keys for good. Our last day as London residents has begun.

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The last night

Tonight is our last night in the house where we've lived for almost five years. As you'd expect, there are growing piles of clothes, household effects and other items appearing in every room ready for the removal company tomorrow. The car was collected this morning in preparation for a thorough steam clean before it's loaded into our shipping container next week.

No doubt our final three nights in London will pass iswiftly. We've based ourselves a nearby hotel. It's an oddly poignant moment. A ramble through this blog reveals just how much we've seen and done while living in the UK. A new adventure awaits us as we prepare to return to Australia.

Garry will dismantle our Internet connection and home office later today. As a result future blog posts are likely to become more erratic and less frequent. I'll do my best to update every at regular intervals on our grand tour back to Sydney. Stay tuned for images of Vienna, the Christmas market in Salzburg, the snow-clad Swiss Alps, penguins in Antarctica, Easter Island and the Atacama Desert.

A real shock!

The Coroner is currently conducting an inquest into the July 7 2005 suicide bombings that killed 52 people on three Tube trains and a bus. At the time Garry and I were in town finishing plans for our relocation to London. Since relocating, we’ve witnessed three more, fortunately unsuccessful, acts of terror; two separate attempts to blow up trans-Atlantic flights and a failed car bomb left outside a popular central London nightclub.

Every week we hear new stories of tragedy and bravery as the coroner’s inquest unfolds. The courage of people involved is a testament to the power of the human spirit. For example, today we heard about Gill Hicks who remained composed enough to shred her own scarf and tourniquet her legs after they’d been blown off at Russell Square. The coroner noted that her prompt, self-administered first aid literally saved her life.

I must admit that these events, while incredibly moving, feel somewhat remote. It’s impossible to conceive of how you’d respond if faced with the same horrific event. However, the surreal aspect of these news stories momentarily disappeared yesterday. Shortly after lunch my office was told by police that a suspicious suitcase had been left in an open plaza next to our building. They then blocked off surrounding streets and banned us from leaving the premises. We were also advised to move away from external windows and congregate at the far end of our floor.

Suddenly, the coroner’s inquest felt very real. As I sat at my window-side desk reading the police warning we'd been emailed I honestly felt a unexpected adrenaline surge. Shortly afterwards a loud explosion rattled the windows making all of us jump. We later learnt that the police had destroyed the abandoned suitcase using a controlled explosion. Trust me. Controlled explosion are just as frightening as ‘real’ ones! The shock was very, very palpable. For just a moment I tthink I truly understood how suicide bomb victims must feel.

Shop until your fingers hurts

We’ve less than two weeks remaining in London. As I reflect on over the last five years I can see several lifestyle changes that have evolved progressively over time. Perhaps the most revolutionary change has been the growing volume of shopping we’ve done online.

In Australia we rarely bought anything online beyond the occasional book, air ticket or hotel reservation. We generally visited showrooms and stores in person to view and purchase almost everything, even if we’d conducted some initial online research. This practice was made easier by the fact that most stores can be found in malls and showrooms, often concentrated in industrial parks.

London has few such malls; instead shops tend to cluster randomly along suburban high streets. Industrial parks in a city the size of London also tend to be highly distributed, rarely anywhere close in the inner city. This retail landscape generally makes visiting a store or showroom impractical. A store can easily be located more than 30 miles away on the opposite side of the city. Driving there typically involves running a gauntlet of heavy traffic through narrow, randomly routed streets. It’s a stressful experience consuming most of the day.

As a result, shopping online soon becomes a far easier proposition. Over the last five years we’ve begun buying more and more merchandise online; groceries, linen, computer supplies, digital cameras, saucepans and small furniture items. Shopping online has also exposed us to a richer variety of options for even the most common of purchases, often at a price that cannot be matched in-store. I suspect we may never shop the same way again once we’re back in Australia.

Online retailers claim last Monday was their busiest shopping day ever as consumers spent an unbelievable £537 million over a 24-hour period. The burst of online spending reflected the last guaranteed delivery date for most retailers before Christmas Day. According to the Centre for Retail Research, between now and Christmas, UK consumers will spend an estimated £11.6 billion on internet shopping – up 29% over last year.

However,while we may be shopping online more than ever, I suspect that retailers on London’s Oxford and Regent Streets aren’t too concerned. Yesterday traffic was banned from both streets turning the central city into a giant pedestrian zone for a day. New reports claim that at least one million Christmas shopper had spent more than £200 million by the time the tills closed.

Somerset House

Christmas in London wouldn’t be complete without visit to the ice skating rink at Somerset House. It’s a spectacular winter venue located on the Stand. The floodlit rink sits in the courtyard of a dramatic 18th Century neo-classic building. Skaters book 30-minute sessions on the ice, often weeks in advance. I was happy to come along just to soak up the scene and enjoy the Christmas spirit. The tree alone was worth this evening’s bitter cold walk from the tube station.


The current building was completed in 1801, more than 25 years after the first foundation stone was laid. It was constructed on the site of an earlier Tudor Palace and was designed to house several Government offices and society institutions under one roof. The most prominent of these was the Navy Office in the South Wing. Its offices received the most elaborate interior of the entire complex, reflecting Britain’s preeminence as the world’s naval superpower.


This evening we dined at Tom’s Kitchen in the South Wing. The sense of history was everywhere as we ate Chateaubriand, truly water-watering truffle fries and Baked Alaska beneath a soaring high ceiling, framed by arched picture windows overlooking the Thames. Perhaps the most poignant moment came mid-evening as I stood in dramatic staircase in the southwest corner of the building. Known as Nelson’s Stairs, they lead to the Naval meeting rooms where Lord Nelson himself once met to debate British naval strategy. Awe inspiring!

Twenty days and counting

Garry and I are cramming in a few final highlights before we depart London for good. We've debated the merits of various restaurants and West End shows, as well as a few seasonal sights such as the picturesque ice rink at Somerset House. The number of missing experiences we're able to list after five years here is rather surprising; and varied. This weekend's outings alone proved a rather eclectic mix.

Last night we caught the train down to Kew Gardens for dinner at the french-style The Glasshouse. I has a business dinner scheduled here on the night that Garry's appendix burst. Instead of enjoying a Michelin star meal I found myself frantically paging the resident on duty as Garry writhed in agony. My boss later took took pity on me and arrange a dining voucher that ultimately funded much of last night's bill. The meal was trully heavenly. We both ordered the venison main course and loved it.


Today we ventured into Oxford Street to make the most of an early sale at a popular hiking and outdoor emporium. We bought all of our last minute gear for Antarctica including warm socks, waterproof gloves and thermal underwear. We're now kitted out and ready to go penguin spotting. Afterwards we finished our outing with a look at the annual Christmas Lights along Oxford Street . This year's theme is quintessentially British thanks to a series of umbrella's hovering over the street.

Next weekend we've booked a table at Tom's Kitchen, a new Brasserie that recently in Somerset House. We thought that enjoying a hearty meal as ice skaters glide by would be a magical winter experience we're unlikely to replicate in Sydney.

UPDATE: November 22
The Met Office is warning of possible snow showers next weekend. Our forthcoming winter wonderland experience at Somerset House may end up being more authentic than originally anticipated.

Cold weather, cold water. Hello winter!

Winter is near. Two recent incidents have brought this harsh reality. Last week, almost like clockwork (as has been our experience for the last three years), our hot water system went on the blink. We had no hot water for four days until repairs were finally completed. Naturally this misfortune coincided with a marked drop in daily temperatures. In fact, last night the overnight temperature fell below zero in parts of London. Tonight we'll be enjoying a relatively balmy 4°C. I also read today that the daytime high on Monday will be a frigid 1°C.


I thought it somewhat ironic that as our heating system went on the blink last week the road outside the house was briefly too hot to walk on. The local council spent the week stripping and resurfacing the street. Mid-week I wandered out of our front door and almost stepped onto scalding hot tar laid minutes earlier. We now have a shiny black street without potholes and unexpected humps.

Camden Council, our local authority, spends almost £9 million annually on road maintaining almost 12,000 roads and laneways. Interestingly, council statistics also show that at least 33% of its footpath are in need of repair every year. However, my favourite statistics is the revelation that the council maintains 11,000 streetlights. Who would have known?

The golden lunch hour

Lunch was interrupted without warning today by the arrival of London’s air ambulance helicopter outside my office. My company occupies the top floor of the building. This meant that as the ambulance descended past our windows the commercial hum of our office was suddenly drowned out by the pulsating thunder of it powerful rotors. At first we thought its arrival was publicity stunt. However our excitement sooner turned to horror as the realization of its true mission unfolded.

Less than 200 metres away, on Hammersmith High Street, a car had struck a cyclist. The driver, clearly in shock, then swerved on to the pavement and hit several pedestrians before crashing into the front windows of a discount supermarket. News stories later reported that nobody had suffered a life-threatening injury. However, those us in the office endured an anxious wait for everyone to return from lunch. It was more than hour before we knew our entire team was safe.

The entire experience, coming so soon on the heels of Garry’s hospital admission, reminded me again how fragile life can be. It was heart-wrenching to think that someone in Hammersmith had gone into town today and, without warning, found their health and well-being shattered within seconds. As some at work later said, ”Take a moment to hug your kids every morning. You never know what may happen next.”


I must confess that the air ambulance is an impressive machine. It’s painted a brilliant vermillion colour (the hue of its corporate sponsor; the Virgin Group). It’s based at Royal London Hospital in Whitechapel, about 13 kilometres east of Hammersmith. Incredibly it takes the helicopter less than 12 minutes from take-off to landing at most destinations. This means that a trauma doctor can reach a seriously injured person within the first Golden Hour, dramatically increasing their chance of survival.

Operating the ambulance is an impressive affair. It costs at least £5000 a day to operate. The Civil Aviation Authority grants the crew special permission to land anywhere they consider it safe at any time. With almost ten million people living within its reach, the helicopter is very busy. In 2009 it completed 1741 missions, an average of almost five calls a day.

UPDATE: October 27
The air ambulance helicopter reappeared outside the office today. The local paper later reported that a man had fallen from a roof-top balcony barely 100 metres from our office. It's hard to believe we've seen it twice in less than a fortnight.

The English Patient

After nine days at Royal Free Hampstead hospital Garry's finally been discharged. Half of his surgery staples have been removed and the scar is healing well. He's now back at home camped out on the sofa surrounded by plenty of creature comforts. As a result, my twice daily jaunts up the nearby hill to see Garry have been transformed into an equally active home help service.

I'm trying not to think about how we'd be checking into a hotel in Southern France right about now had life not thrown us a curve-ball. However, Garry's in one piece (minus a small segment) and that's ultimately what counts.

We won't be going to Toulouse!

We’re giving the National Health Service (NHS) a solid test drive this week. Garry was taken ill on Tuesday and then admitted to hospital 36-hours later suffering acute appendicitis. Unfortunately, last night, just hours before he was due to go into surgery his inflamed appendix burst. A relatively routine operation quickly turned into a five-hour marathon before he returned to the ward shortly after dawn.

The doctor told Garry he’ll be in the hospital until at least Sunday. Fortunately he’s recovering well, with tubes sprouting everywhere and lots of fancy machines to keep him company. When I saw him this afternoon boredom was setting in which seemed like a rather promising sign of recovery.

His bedside TV isn't the only entertainment on offer in Garry's ward. Directly opposite him is an older gentleman who seemed hell-bent on disparaging every aspect of the NHS currently at his disposal, ensuring all within earshot hear his numerous, petty complaints.

Royal living

Buckingham Palace is one of the world’s last remaining royal palaces. More than 450 people can be found at work most days coordinating The Queen’s ceremonial duties, maintaining the building and grounds and running the royal establishment. Many of the official duties staged at the palace take place in one of its 19 state rooms. Every Summer these majestic, gilded rooms are opened to the public for two months while the Queen holidays at Balmoral Castle. These tours are a recent development. They were originally used to pay for a five-year, £37 million restoration of Windsor Castle undertaken after a devastating fire in November 1992.


Beyond the state rooms are another 52 royal and guest bedrooms, 188 staff bedrooms, 92 offices and 78 bathrooms. These remain off limits at all times. Today Garry and I spent a wonderfully sunny afternoon touring the Palace’s state rooms and gardens. We’d bought the tickets months ago and they had to be used before the end of September. We couldn’t have picked a better day to visit. The warm weather meant that doors and windows were open throughout the palace, offering glimpses of the grounds and giving the stunning, ornate rooms an airy feeling.

The tour gives visitors surprisingly generous access to its west wing. We were able to view the Grand Hall, climb the genuinely Grand Staircase and stand in the Throne Room; venue for many of royalty’s most famous family portraits. Each room was a picture to behold. Even the Ballroom was a highlight. Here the knighting sword used for investitures was on display. Perhaps the most impressive rooms were the State Dining Room and the White Drawing Room. To my eye the design and decoration felt more coherent and pleasing than any other room.


It’s easy to see why the palace’s construction and fitting had cost a heart-stopping £800,000 by the time the first royal, Queen Victoria, took up residence in 1837. John Nash, the appointed architect, originally estimated his work would cost £252,690. Millions more has been spent since finishing incomplete rooms, updating others and undertaking major restoration. The last major building phase was completed in 1913 when the current Mall façade was clad in durable Portland stone.


Today’s tour exited the palace via its West Front. This grand facade opens onto a generous 73 metre long terrace overlooking the private gardens. The gardens themselves are an impressive sight. They cover 16-hectres and include a lake, open lawns and shaded tree-lined pathways; all offering a tranquil green oasis in heart of central London. It’s here that The Queen hosts up to five garden parties every Summer, attended by eight thousand people. For the rest of year, the expansive lawn acts as her majesty’s private helipad.


We finished our day at the Palace with a tour of the Royal Mews. This complex, also designed by Nash, is where the royal carriages and limousines are stored; and the carriage horses are stabled. Perhaps the most impressive item on display here is the Gold State Stage. This rococo gilt coach is by used by the monarch for coronations, weddings and jubilee celebrations. It was presented to George III in 1760 and weighs a staggering four tones. The gilt vehicle is a remarkable sight with its painted panels, cherubs and grand Triton statues. Rumour has it the ride is incredibly uncomfortable. Sometimes royal life only looks grand.