On The Isle of Sheppey in Kent, Ravishing Rochester, Viewing the Dulwich Picture Gallery

Tuesday, Aug 1, 2023

Visiting my Cousin on The Isle of Sheppey in Kent, Stopping off at Rochester, Viewing the Dulwich Picture Gallery

Getting to the Isle of Sheppey:

Today was earmarked for a long drive into the Kentish countryside to the farthest corner of England called The Isle of Sheppey and then on to Rochester. Roz, my friend, had kindly agreed to drive me there and back—a huge boon as public transport to and fro is a long drawn-out, annoying, time-consuming and energy-utilizing matter!

Still on Bombay time, I am now awaking in London at about 6.00 am. Roz and I had enough time for a quick cereal and coffee breakfast before we got out of the house (as planned) at 8.15 am, ready to beat traffic. However, it is the getting out of Greater London that is more challenging than anything else. Roz is an expert at the wheel and a dab hand at negotiating her way around the periphery of the city, for most of which she does not need a map. We did not have SatNav and she had to trust her instincts as we went through Dulwich and then out towards the east. It was a beautiful day and I was so thrilled that we had blue, almost unclouded skies for our drive. We ought to have been on the M2 right from the start, but somehow we were on the A20 for the longest while. As long as we were headed in the right direction, of course, we were not worried.

About 90 minutes later, we saw signs for Sheerness and I realized that I did not have Cheryl’s address. We tried to reach her, but she did not pick up her mobile or her land line. I had last been to her place maybe in 2016—quite a long while back. I remembered her address vaguely and also the lay of the land. I did remember that she lived in the town of Minster, close to the waterfront and a pub called The Playa. Anyway, we were soon going over the beautiful Isle of Sheppey Bridge and then following signs to Minster. It was all fine until we reached the very last bit (as I had only a vague memory that she lived on Southsea Avenue), but by then Cheryl called back and gave us directions. In two hours from our starting minute, we were at the door of her home ‘Catalan’ and saying hello to her and her husband, David.

A Lovely Visit with my Relatives:

The next two hours flew by swiftly as Cheryl looked after us well and we were able to catch up with her and David. The gardeners were in to do the mowing of the lawn and I was, fascinated, as one of them used a really small mower and took more than an hour to finish a small square of back garden. Meanwhile, their pond was being stripped and re-filled. Cheryl served us sausage rolls and tiny Scotch eggs with hot chocolate and coffee and we had eclairs for dessert. I admire the fact that although her husband is unwell and takes up a lot of her time, she managed to put together these eats and hot drinks and was able to give us a good round-up of the past couple of years since his diagnosis. After I gave them the gifts I had carried from Bonnie, her sister and my gift of a Murano glass necklace, Cheryl signed some checks she wanted me to take back for her and we said our goodbyes.

Off to Rochester:

It was about 12.30 pm when we left the island and decided to stop en route at the city of Rochester that is famous for its Cathedral, Castle and High Street. We arrived there in about 40 minutes and found parking in a public car park. The town was buzzing with a lot of tourist energy as it was a really lovely day.

Exploring Rochester—Cathedral, Castle and High Street:

The High Street was festooned with bunting and looked very jolly indeed. We joined the groups headed towards the Cathedral as I slunk in and out of the thrift shops looking for bone china mugs. I did find a DVD but not much else. Anyways, as we had arrived at the walls of the Cathedral, Roz suggested we go in and pay a visit. It is truly a grand edifice (like all Gothic Cathedrals are) and as we entered the space, we were amazed at the various features of it: there is a medieval painting still on one wall, wonderful carved granite altar, simply amazing Victorian Celtic tile work on the floor and a small section of Medieval tile that is still in place. A place of Christian worship has stood on this site since 900 AD and it was simply amazing to take in the nave and sanctuary, the choir stalls, the beautiful painted organ pipes and the Fenland Black Oak Project. The last is a single trunk of a massive Fenland Oak tree that had fallen in one piece. Master carvers then worked on using the entire trunk to create a long table which is now in one side extension of the Cathedral. We also looked around at a series of quilted panels that told the story of Creation. We also then stopped to say a little prayer in one of the side chapels before it was time for us to leave.

Next item on the agenda was the Norman Castle, which actually adjoins the Cathedral. Thin is the oldest castle in the UK as it was built within a couple of years of the Norman Conquest of 1066. It has a section that is still standing in its entirely and a large Close and Keep. Furthermore, the ramparts and walls of the Castle overlook the Medway river which looked decidedly cleaner today than I remembered it, years ago, when it was a murky yellow. All of these aspects made our exploration of the town very enjoyable indeed and we took a few photographs.

Lunch at The Cheese Room:

By this time, Roz was feeling peckish and we deiced to stop for lunch on the High Street. We passed by the King’s Arms pub where, many years ago, when both of us were living in London, my friend Stephanie and I had driven to Rochester on a Sunday and enjoyed their huge Sunday Roast lunch (for 6.95 pounds, if I remember correctly). However, this time round, the pub seemed rather empty and we chose The Cheese Room, a little restaurant with an outdoors eating area. We ordered toasties—mine was a Reuben with Gruyere Cheese and salted beef, a lot of mustard and a delicious tomato-apple-plum chutney that was served with it. I also had a bottle of cider while Roz had a ginger beer (as she was driving). It was fun to enjoy our huge lunches while watching the world go by—many families, children in strollers, etc.

After about an hour, I paid the bill and we left to find our car and move out of the city.

Visiting Dulwich Picture Gallery:

It had been our aim to make it to the Dulwich Picture Gallery in Dulwich, on the outskirts of London, our next port of call. But traffic, our inability to find a direct route to it and other snarls caused us to arrive just after its closing at 5.00pm. We were looking at visiting the special exhibition on Berthe Morrisot, but we had to content ourselves with strolling around the garden to take in the interesting sculpture dotted around as well as the exterior of the building itself. This is one of the architectural jewels of Sir John Soane, to whom I am very partial as an architect. I have seen a lot of his work, over the years (the Bank of England, the Church of St. John at Bethnal Green, etc. not to mention his own house that is a museum in Holborn, London) and I am always intrigued by the four Classical urns that top this building. Anyway, after a nice chat about all sorts of things and a leisurely stroll, Roz and I made our way back to the car.

Shopping in Clapham:

All that was left was for us to do some food shopping for a few things I wanted to take back with me—Badedas Shower Gel, Rimmel nail polish, Battenburg Cake from Waitrose, etc. Roz was very kind and patient as she found parking and did a bit of food shopping herself. It was not long before we stashed all our shopping in the trunk of her car and made our way back to her home in Battersea.

Drinks at The Asparagus Pub and Dinner at Home:

Both of us were dying for a nice cup of tea by the time we reached Roz’s place and tea we had. Roz suggested that since the evening was still young, we go out to the pub for a drink. First, we stopped briefly at Jack and Beyond, the place that has gained fame for offering the Bottomless Cake Afternoon Tea—sadly, I did not make time for it on this trip—maybe next time! We wanted to go to her regular pub, but found that it was closed. Finally, we ended up at The Asparagus where we both settled down with a large gin and tonic and more chatter until it was time to leave.

Back home at Roz’s, she put together, rather swiftly and expertly, an improvised salad dinner based on ingredients in her fridge: we had rocket, a lovely ripe avocado, red radishes and topped the whole with prawn cocktail (from M and S out of a package). It was all rather delicious and it made for a very nice meal as we watched a Christmas special episode of Grantchester. Indeed, it was a lovely evening and a fitting end to an eventful but very enjoyable day.

Until tomorrow…cheerio.

Something Old, Something New!

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

London 

Something Old, Something New!    

One thing’s for sure: Five years after I lived in London, I have returned to discover that I do not have the same energy levels I used to or the ability to go on sans sleep the way I once did. I awoke at 5 .15 am and spent the first two hours of the day working on editing my essay. By 7. 30 am, I got out of bed, washed, dressed and left for 8.00 am Mass at St. Paul’s where I met my friends Cynthia and Michael briefly. Although Cynthia insisted I return to their place for breakfast, I declined as my muesli was soaking in milk and yogurt and I was keen to return home to consume it—indeed I have grown to enjoy this breakfast so much that I actually look forward to it. Simple pleasures! I ate it while watching BBC’s Breakfast Show and a bit of Lorraine and then I was getting ready to leave the house—which I did at 10. 30 am—for my long bus ride to the Horniman Museum

Finally Hitting the Horniman Museum:

There is a reason I had never been to the Horniman Museum—and I discovered that reason today! It is located in the midst of nowhere, somewhere between London and Lewisham! This meant a long ride on the Number 63 bus from Gray’s Inn heading towards Honor Oak. Thanks to Journey Planner, I figured that I needed to get off at Peckham Rye station to change to the 197 bus to Lewisham. By the time I reached, it was almost 12 noon and the place was packed solid with school kids on field trips from various schools as far away as Surrey! I was under the mistaken impression that this museum had a whole section on Tea and its accoutrements—and having become a huge tea afficionado, I figured it would be up my alley. Well, I was sadly mistaken. The Tea connection is limited to the fact that Mr. Horniman was a Victorian tea merchant who marketed a product known as Horniman Tea (still sold in the gift shop). The tea museum used to be the Bramah Tea and Coffee Museum in Southwark (which closed a few months before I got there, a year ago, to check it out). So, no, there was no tea stuff to be found at the Horniman. It is, in fact, a Natural History Museum--and not a very impressive one at that. The London Natural History Museum at Kensington is miles better. Its layout might be the Horniman’s most interesting feature—there is a vast gallery that runs the length of the museum which provides a sort of bird’s-eye view of the glass cases below. I mean its centerpiece is a stuffed giraffe--as in stuffed toy, not taxidermied! No further comment necessary. There is also an aquarium and an Amazon section (but these require a payment of 3 pounds—the rest of the museum is free). I browsed about a bit but was not very taken by anything.

            What really struck my fancy were the gardens—apparently recently refurbished in 2012 and a grand sight they are too. There is a splendid conservatory (glass house, reminiscent of the one at Syon House on the Thames) and a nice bandstand with lovely faraway views of London—you can easily distinguish the Gherkin and the Shard, the newest addition to London’s skyline. There is also a nice Musical Garden with giant installations of musical instruments such as xylophones which kids and adults can try their hands at playing. Beautiful beds of marigold in vivid shades of orange brightened up a central reflecting pool. There are perennial flower beds and a medicinal/herb garden. There is a berry patch—I feasted on delicious strawberries picked straight from the vines—what a treat!—small, sweet, red, juicy, flavorful. I don’t believe I could ever eat a genetically-engineered giant American strawberry again. When I had taken a few pictures, I left, and hopped on the bus again; but I did not return home as intended. Instead, as often happens spontaneously when I am in London, I made a detour because I realized that I was not far from the Dulwich Picture Gallery—and so that was my next port of call!

Dallying in Dulwich Picture Gallery:

            Dulwich Picture Gallery is one of London’s art gems: unfortunately, not too many people make the long hike into Dulwich, one of the pretty ‘villages’ of London to go out and see it. Because I have visited it on previous occasions and because the building is the handiwork of Sir John Soane, one of my great Victorian heroes, and because its small collection is so striking and significant, I decided to visit it again. And what a great decision that turned out to be!

            Dulwich Picture Gallery (don’t you even just love the name?) was founded in the strangest of circumstances. Here is an explanation on how the collection came to be: “Stanislaus Augustus, the last King of Poland, commissioned Noël Desenfans and Sir Francis Bourgeois RA, two successful London art dealers, to build a Royal Collection for Poland. In 1795, before they could complete the deal, Poland was partitioned by its powerful neighbour, Catherine the Great of Russia, his ex-lover. The King was forced into exile, and the dealers were left with a Royal Collection on their hands. Unable to sell it, they left the collection to Dulwich College in 1811 under the terms of Bourgeois’ will, stating that it should be available for the ‘inspection of the public’. Bourgeois left another condition in his will: that the architect for the new gallery should be his friend, Sir John Soane (1754-1837). The brief was not just to build a gallery for the pictures, but also almshouses for six old ladies (now exhibition rooms) and a mausoleum for its founders. The challenge was irresistible. Soane turned up at Dulwich the very day after Bourgeois' death. The building has influenced the design of art galleries ever since”.

      A walk through the galleries brings one to the mausoleum where the remains of the  museum’s founders are enshrined in stone tombs—a most unusual addition in an art gallery. But once you get past this oddity, you will be dumb-struck by the canvases, each one of which is more mesmerizing than the next. Old Masters will be coming out of your ears—as you feast your eyes on Rembrandt’s Girl at the Window (so realistic you will want to reach out and touch her); Murillo’s Madonna of the Rosary and a wealth of other large portraiture, several Gainsborough portraits (including one of Mrs. Elizabeth Moody and her sons Thomas and Samuel both of whom are in dresses). I was told that pre-potty trained kids in the 18^th century often wore dresses as it made it easier to take care of their toilet needs! There are amazing Guido Renis and Claude Lorraines, several Poussins, loads of Annibal Carraci and Canaletto’s famed views of the canals of Venice. This collection would make an excellent miniature introduction to the history of western art as it can easily be seen in a single morning—and, I repeat, what a breathtaking collection it is! 

     At any given time, a stroll through the permanent collection is rewarding but what makes a visit to Dulwich Picture Gallery really worthwhile are the special exhibitions that are held regularly and I was particularly fortunate to catch one today on the Bloomsbury artists who had belonged to the Slade School of Art—among whom were names that went on to fashion British Art in the early 20^th century and greatly influence it: names like Dora Carrington, CRW Nevinson, Stanley Spencer, Mark Gertler and David Bomberg. Their work was wonderful and showed the impact of the Great War and the tragedy of the Somme on their vision, the manner in which they became influenced eventually by Abstract Art especially Cubism and the ways in which their friendship led to intense personal relationships. I was enthralled as were so many of the viewers who could not tear themselves away from the display. 

     It was another sizzling afternoon; so I was grateful to sit in the shade of the café umbrellas to eat my ham and Stilton cheese sandwich as the mercury climbed ever higher. Then just before I left, I spotted the Alleyn Chapel that was open and I could not resist a quick visit inside. It is a gem of a place—a bequest to the Gallery by Edward Alleyn (pronounced “al-ayn”) who was a gigantic Shakespearean actor in his time (16^th century) and who left a chapel and enough money to cover the care of 12 widows whose homes are converted to galleries today. He lies buried in the chapel—a tombstone indicates the spot in front of the altar whose altarpiece is the work of a 19^th century sculptor named Carew. The chapel is particularly known for the fine craftsmanship of the wooden pew carvings that feature animals, birds and people in gestures of prayer. It was worth going inside to peruse the kind of artistry that one rarely sees in contemporary places of worship.

            I hopped on the bus to get back home but by the late afternoon the heat sapped my strength and made me long for a break. I needed to get away from the humidity which was stifling. Buses and Tube trains do not have air conditioning here in London and they can get unbearable when the temperatures get this high. It was gratefully that I returned to my air conditioned Holborn apartment and sank into bed expecting to take my habitual 20 minute cat nap—and amazed to find that I did not wake up for 45 minutes! As I said, I do not have the same energy of five years previously! At 5. 15 pm, I jumped up to have a cup of tea and some cake and to take a shower and get ready for my next appointment.

Off to Alexander’s Art Opening:

     By 5. 30 pm, I was out of the house and on the Tube again, heading to Westbourne Park Tube station to meet my friend Rosemary (Roz) whose son Alexander (Alex) had the opening of his first major solo art show at a gallery known as The Tabernacle. Roz was at the station waiting for me when I got there, ten minutes behind schedule as the Tube ride took longer than I expected. Ten minutes later, we were at the venue and I was shaking the hands of the handsome young artist, Roz’s son, whom I have known for several years. He has recently completed his Ph.D. after having done his B.A. and M.A. from Cambridge University with a double major in Law and Art History! All those brains and great looks too! Alex received the good wishes of a large bunch of his friends who turned out to support his work and a bevy of relatives—aunts, uncles—and family friends. Roz introduced me to a number of folks—some of whom were American. I enjoyed perusing Alex’s work in mixed media: oils, water colors, engravings. His work shows confidence and an originality of vision that I found very refreshing and very impressive. I know that he will get better and better with time and experience and I have little doubt that these works which are still very affordable will one day be worth much more than their current value.

        I said goodbye to Roz and her family members and jumped on a bus to Queensway from where I took the Tube home to Chancery Lane, happy at the thought of a fairly early night. I cobbled together a halfway decent dinner (quiche, soup, salad, cherries) and ate it while watching a new TV series called Family Tree with the comedian Chris O’Dowd whom I rather like. At 10. 30 pm with my eyes fairly closing, I hammered out this blog and fell asleep.

     It was an arty-farty day. It involved something old (Dulwich Picture Gallery) and something new (Horniman Museum). But mainly it was enervating as the heat in public transport is no laughing matter! Tomorrow, if it gets this torrid, I shall spent it in an air-conditioned space. 

       Until tomorrow, cheerio!