Sunday, August 1, 2010
London
The cough I'd been fighting with medication all week developed into a full-blown cold during the night. I awoke with stuffed nasal passages, a scratchy throat, a headache and bodyache to boot. Felt really disappointed as I wanted so much to make it to St. Etheldreda's Church at Holborn Circus for the 9.00 am mass. Especially after learning the history of the church through the DVD that Michael had presented me in May, I was keener than ever to get there. It was my former 'parish' while I lived in Hoblorn and for old times' sake, I was keen to worship there again.
But when I made my way down the stairs like a zombie, Cynthia took one look at me and packed me straight off to bed. "You are not going anywhere this morning,' she said, "except back to bed." It was advice I gratefully heeded as I had some cereal, dozed myself with paracetemol and climbed back into bed expecting to have an hour's nap. I had an important assignement to cover--the World Anglo-Indian Day celebrations in Croydon and had made arrangments to spend the day with my friends Gerry and Corinne Gilbert and be picked up at Croydon mainline station by Bash.
But to my enormous shock, I did not awake until 1.00 pm. Feeling terribly dopey and drugged, I made the effort to get out of bed and into the shower which cleared my head and made me feel far better. Cynthia and Michael had set a semi-formal table, expecting the morning's preacher, one Felicity, and her husband Justin from Wembley at lunch. They suggested I join them before I made further plans for the afternoon and that was just what I did. Over Cynthia's excellent chicken in mushroom sauce with vegetables and steamed potatoes, I felt my energy return and half an hour later, I took my leave of the party as I boarded the bus to London Bridge from where I took a train to East Croydon, as instructed by Bash. He, unfortunately, being from Harrow, was totally unfamiliar with East Croydon and on asking for directions to the station, ended up at South Croydon station--miles away from where I was waiting! It was going to be a long and difficult afternoon!
Long story short, Bash found his way to East Croydon but not before inadvertently driving on tram lines which earned him a fat fine and ruined his mood--though I have to say that he recovered it quickly enough! In a few minutes, we were at the Bishop Lanfrancs School in Croydon where I had expected the Anglo-Indian Festival to be winding down--it was almost 4.00 pm by the time we arrived. Reluctant to waste any more time, I got on with my reporting, took the pictures I wanted and circulated around the stalls where I met a bunch of the interviewees I had talked to throughout my year in the UK. There were stalls selling Anglo-Indian specialties such as Karthi Rolls as well as pickles galore--I am particularly fond of Prawn Balchow and Brinjal Pickle but being afraid of spillage in my baggage (I have runied enough clothing trying to carry pickles back to the States from India!), I resisted the temptation to buy them. You can't have an AI Do without the jiving, so there it was--the old-time rock and roll favorites and there they were, the aunties and uncles, having themselves a ball! My friend Owen Thorpe who has a new book out (The Lion and The Chakra, his first work of fiction after his excellent autobiography Paper Boats in the Monsoon) sold me a copy and introduced me to his wife, Patty, who appears on the cover. I was particularly pleased to hook up with Henry Holley and his wife Marion who have been extraordinarily supportive of my research. He brought me up to speed on his various charities in India--which never fail to inpress me. Right now, he is working hard to save St. George's School, his alma mater in Madras and the oldest AI school in India, from the demolition squad which is out to sell the valuable teak wood that comprises the building's structure! It was a wonderful reunion all round and since my nose and throat were still all stuffed up, I was grateful when the Gilberts made a move about 2 hours later. Bash drove me back to Central London and by half past seven, I was back with the Colcloughs.
They suggested a light TV dinner for which I was grateful--we had fish cakes and corned beef sandwiches as the newest version of Sherlock Holmes with Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin (The Office) Freeman as Dr. Watson appeared on the telly. I sat around with the family on my last evening in London before I retreated to my room to complete my packing. Earlier in the evening, I'd contacted Farringdon Cars for a cab to take me to Heathrow, the next morning, as I simply couldn't face the thought of fighting peak hour crowds on the Piccadilly Tube Line.
For the next hour, I worked steadily, managing to fit all the edibles I'd purchased over the next few days in the single bag that American Airlines permits me to carry "as free allowance." Edward carried my suitcase downstairs as I fell asleep hoping my cough which has developed into a cold would not ruin my air travel in the morning. I had been so dreading getting sick in the UK and despite the best precautions I took, what did I end up with...but a cough and cold! Oh well...at least it did not compltely ruin my stay in London.
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