A venerable institution, The Charing Cross Hotel has been in continuous operation since 1865 (a fact that I found out much later). The hotel, as the meeting site for today’s British Travel Health Association annual meeting was noted to be “in Central London.” The directions I had to the hotel were simple – exit the station and it is right there.
Sure.
Right.
First, which exit? Between the train station and the co-located Underground stop, there are a lot of exits. Not expecting any problem, I headed out of the station and started looking. After 20 minutes of trying different streets (& asking in four different coffee shops), I was desperate enough to activate the browser function on my phone. Apparently, there were several hotels with Charing Cross in the name. After finding that 39 Whitehall was obviously not where I wanted to be, I made one last ditch effort.
A very nice member of the London Police didn’t know the hotel location but called into his dispatch for the information and provided me clear directions.
Retracing my path to the train station, I walked along the front of the building. I saw no signs from inside the station. Blindingly obvious, the Charing Cross Hotel is above the Charing Cross Rail Station with a discreet door to the far right as you exit the station.
The conference was worth it.
Knitting
40 Minutes on the train each way= knitting progress
plus a start on sleeve one
and a couple of TV episodes courtesy of iTunes this evening after returning home = about 3 cm progress after frogging back an entire diamond to fix a miss-crossed cable
12"
Tomorrow I am staying home, knitting, and turning on the electric fire. 6°C in the house is just a bit nippy.
There’s nothing more stomach turning that spotting crossed cable. I’ve slid down that slippery slope myself. Love the hotel story. Some things are hiding right in front of us.