London Eye impresses even after multiple visits

The monumental, Thames-side Ferris wheel known as the London Eye has become such an established part of London, it's hard to remember a time when it didn't dominate the skyline. It's not even a decade old, however, built at the millennium as a particularly savvy piece of corporate sponsorship by British Airways, and intended to be temporary. It became such an instant hit that nobody ever seriously considered taking it down.

Today the Eye is as much a feature on every tourist's Top 10 list as Buckingham Palace, Westminster Abbey or St. Paul's. Its private "flights", in which you can book an entire capsule for your party, have also become a dependable option for special events. Thus between showing around visiting Americans and attending corporate dos I have been lifted on that slow circle over London at least five times. My most recent go round Tuesday night was still a thrill.

We were on a team night out; another thanks and celebration of the financial year passing, this time with Caseworks and Telecom TV, two companies who've stretched my budget in clever ways while producing marketing materials. They started the evening with a "champagne flight": a private capsule, booked just for us, accompanied by a waiter with a portable bar full of fizz.

The Eye takes half an hour to make a rotation, moving so slowly that if you don't look at the changing horizon you actually have no sense of movement. You're riding in a large glass capsule with a bench down the middle and plenty of walking space around the sides. All has been designed to give you the feeling you're in a building looking out, rather than on a ride, so that the more faint of heart can also enjoy the experience. The Eye sits on the south bank of the Thames, just east of Westminster Palace, and thus offers views of the essential tourist London. The river, government buildings, Green and Hyde Parks and the facade of Buckingham Palace all unfold before you. To your right spreads the steeples and skyscrapers of the City, dominated by the dome of St. Paul's. On a clear day you can see hills to the far south and north, and gain a proper appreciation that this is, in fact, the flood plain of a very wide river valley. By the apex of your ride you have roughly the same perspective you may remember from your childhood viewings of Peter Pan, when Peter, Wendy and the gang flew down the Thames towards Never Never Land.

Sadly, what goes up must come down. Rather than flying off over the river we took taxis south along it, adjourning to the Bulter's Wharf Chop House for a celebratory dinner.

This was actually quite a clever pairing of venues, as both are essentially British and would delight any tourist. While the Eye gives you a look at all the places the rich and famous of British history have haunted, the Chop House presents you a menu of what they might have eaten. This is the place to take someone who doesn't believe that English food is any good. The menu is stubbornly traditional, from its starters of potted shrimps to roast lamb through to its stodgy, classic puddings.

Sadly the Chop House is so traditional that if you live here, it pales in comparison to many other London restaurants. My food, and what I saw coming to the table for others, was good quality, well prepared but not exceptional or wildly memorable. In fact, I've been wracking my brain for days now and can't remember what I had as a starter. The grilled sea bass that followed managed to impress itself on a few more brain cells. This is a safe choice and an excellent one for a foreign visitor, especially given the views of Tower Bridge out the windows. But in my ideal world, this is the menu I'd have at my local pub, dished up with good cheer and a pint for more reasonable prices. (Sadly, even though local pubs should be able to handle this kind of traditional menu, few do, which is perhaps why the Chop House has thrived.)

The most memorable part of the meal was actually the desserts, many of which were so old fashioned you rarely see them on menus. Thus I finally got to try Sussex Pond pudding, which is a suet pastry encasing a whole lemon, butter and sugar, steamed for several hours so that the lemon becomes soft and candy-like at the centre. According to the Wikipedia entry: "this rich and heavy dessert has gone out of fashion over the years due to health and diet consciousness." Indeed.

That, plus the creeping effects of Boisdale (see previous entry) and all the alcohol at both meals, added a pound and a half to the scales at Weight Watchers this morning. There will be no restaurant entries for a while, dear reader. It's time to get back on the straight and narrow.

Still, I'm glad I indulged. I've lived here for 14 years and never seen Sussex Pond Pudding anywhere but on TV cooking shows. Thanks to the Butler's Wharf Chop House, I can tick off yet another quintessentially English experience.