Friday, 20 May, 2022
The time had sped by. I’d been mostly sleepless overnight. The noise from the street was even heavier than the night before and when the sun started to rise in the morning there were still revelers slowly winding down their drunken, chatty, sing-y time out. I knew I was going to spend as much time resting before checking out as I could possibly wring out.
We made the unusual decision to go to the Wetherspoons pub across the road for a cheap breakfast. Before that I’d gone up to the top floor to see what Krish said was a rooftop restaurant – not there, just a short corridor filled with what I guessed were the fancier rooms. On the first floor, I checked to see what was on offer there. A lot of boring looking typical breakfast foods were sitting in their serving containers. Nothing to see here, so Wetherspoons it was. The pub is in a beautiful building called Lloyds, so a former bank? The inside was typical, quiet, vast and somewhat gloomy, We ordered our ‘American pancake breakfast’ – small for me, large for Krish. It arrived, the usual chewy-never-fluffy British take on an American pancake along with sausage for me, while Krish’s had sausages and eggs. Strangely, there was a layer of an attempt at streaky bacon in between my two pancakes. Amusing. But we were fed!
We looked about George Street, which had some interesting buildings and then I took some photos of the hotel, which itself has an interesting history as Nottingham’s oldest inn. 
At the hotel, we continued to pack and check for stray items and took our case down for reception to store.
The last day of a trip is always an odd one. There are all the bits and pieces you haven’t seen yet, and the train journey is looming. We’ve had our share of almost missing those trains. Today was a day without much of a plan.
The plan we did have was to get a tram and bus pass and look about a bit further out. (This never happened.) Krish wanted to see the university campus and I wanted to see if we could see any signs of the original Boots building – Boots first store was in Nottingham and it was here that ibuprofen (originally Brufen) was developed by Dr Stewart Adams’ team in the late 50s, coming to stores in 1969 after several clinical trials. Boots had started as a herbalist on Goose Gate (just by our hotel) in 1849. I’d not done the research so didn’t notice the building. Later Krish told me he had seen it there. No photos.
We walked over to the university, which proved to not be very far away. You don’t have to walk too far from the centre of town to find yourself in more open and residential territory.
The university was just after the shopping centre area and before the road widened. On the way I’d checked to see if there was a market but there was no sign of one, only a few stalls and vans scattered in the side streets. I wasn’t finding it easy to walk anymore so I said no to climbing the steps up to some of the higher street areas, and Krish said he wouldn’t go alone but stay with me instead.
At the tram stop was a university building called Boots Library. I got excited, thinking that they might have some historic stuff in there, then saw they had a roof garden. I asked the security guard if I needed ID to get in and he let me know that, because it was exam week, no one was allowed in. I asked if I could use the lift to see the roof garden, since it was located right at the entrance but he said no again, telling me to come back in a couple of weeks. So no go. Disappointing but I’m glad I tried.
My tram ticket for the day was a concession price of £3, for Krish it meant £1 for any short hop (covering the four or five stops in the city centre) journey so he decided on that option. I love trams and try to go on one in every city we arrive in. This one wasn’t as modern inside as it looked outside. It was like a Toronto streetcar, but not newest generation.
We took it to the last stop for short hop – one station too far, said Krish as we got out in a sparse residential area. The suburbs had already begun just one stop south of the station. With nothing much to see here, we turned back to the city in search of a seat for me, and lunch for both of us. To be honest, I was done and knew I didn’t have another step in me.
But there were several hundred more! Looking for a restaurant, we fell into the usual frustrating trap of not seeing one that pleased us both. I was ready for a pizza and a seat but Krish is dairy-phobic right now so that was out. We sat in a Chinese restaurant looking at an uninspiring menu, then left. We walked around the block and back again, settling for a very disappointing fish and chips between us. It was so bad but I had my seat and enjoyed the rest. I really didn’t care what we ate.
We had a little time before we needed to head to the station and I wanted to see Sneinton Market. There were signs pointing to it so I asked Krish to go find it and let me know if it was worth the hilly walk. He came back into view and waved me to come down the hill. The market is a small area of shops in two or three rows. It was very quiet. Two young women sat eating the mandatory avocado on toast outside a shop. I considered buying chocolate and then left without it, took a few photos and out of the market again. Not really worth it, not at that time of day at least.
Up the hill again, grab the suitcase, a quick hop into Sainsburys to get a drink and a snack for later, and then to the tram stop. I had my ticket already and Krish would get a short hop. I had a mental block when the tram arrived suddenly and went into Toronto mode thinking he could buy his ticket on the tram. In I went and, as the door closed behind me, noticed that Krish wasn’t with me but was at the ticket machine at the stop. A forehead slapping moment. Luckily his tram arrived just a couple of minutes after mine. There was a lift down to the station hall waiting area and we were about 20 minutes early. There were absolutely no seats available anywhere and Krish went off to explore the area promising to be back within 15 minutes. I was really relieved to see him about 10 minutes later. I’d had to stand the whole time and knew that Krish was often late for things. But all was fine, we got down to our train and were on our way home.
The journey to St Pancras went by quickly. On our way down the escalator I noticed a huge queue doubling back on itself right across the central hallway of the station. As we headed towards the exit and turned the corner, the queue continued gathering strength with at least one double-back. There were masses of people and my only guess what this was now how it looked when you take the Eurostar during Covid and Brexit. This was a really sobering thought. We’d travelled by Eurostar many times and never encountered more than a few people in the queue ahead of us. Mind boggling.
The bus was coming just as we reached the street, the easiest connection from Kings Cross that we’d ever made. From the bus to our Hackney stop, to the flat, a light dinner, a cup of tea or two and finally back to our own bed. Nottingham done!
Wonderful adventures!