A Visit to Hatfield House and a Night at the National Theater

Thursday, September 18, 2025

Hatfield and London

A Visit to Hatfield House and a Night at the National Theater

Today I made a longish trek out of London to see a place I have loved and dreamed of visiting. It is Hatfield House, the happy childhood home of Queen Elizabeth I and the venue of some of the most glorious Elizabethan gardens in the country. Although I have wanted to visit this site for ages (its long distance from London had always deterred me as has the lack of company), it was prompted this time by a more recent happening. You see, I have just finished reading Phillipa Gregory’s book, ‘Virgin Ground’, which tells of the lives and achievements of John Tradescant and his son who together pioneered the design and creation of exquisite gardens during the reign of Elizabeth I. Their great patron was William Cecil, Lord Salisbury, chief advisor to the Queen and a man who was both phenomenally rich and devoted to the acquisition of new varietals of plants. Hatfield House was the first really huge commission that John Tradescant received from Lord Cecil and is a real showpiece of his achievements Hence, it was on the cards for me, more than ever on this visit. Luckily, on this occasion, I actually found company, for one of my college classmates, Michelle, retired recently and is now able to accompany me on such jaunts in London. When I told her of my plans to visit Hatfield House, she was fully game and so off we went with our plans.

I awoke at 6.00 am and blogged as usual, as I listened to the trains and the planes outside my window. It is such a lovely way to awake each morning. Wasting no time, I edited my photos of the previous day, sent them off to family and friends and then showered, dressed, joined Roz for breakfast and got on with my day. I had cinnamon and carrot cake (courtesy of Jack and Beyond and my Bottomless Cake Experience) and a small bowl of granola with yogurt with a terrific cup of decaff coffee. And with that I was off at 9.30 am.

Getting to Hatfield House:

The journey to Hatfield House was something of a production. I took the 44 to Victoria, got off at the Station and then jumped into the Tube line going north. I alighted at Finsbury Park and thought I would have to walk for ten minutes along the street to the National Rail station…but I was mistaken, the two are beautifully connected and you do not even leave the building. I found the ticket machines and having arrived there at about 10.15 am, was entitled to the Off-Peak Day Return (valid after 9.30 am) which cost me 15.70 pounds. Only I picked up just one of the tickets—believing that it was valid for both rides. I did not realize that I had left one part of it behind! In fact, I only discovered this when at the barriers trying to get out of the station.

The train I took was the 10.37 am going to Welwyn Gardens—mine was the second-last stop at Hatfield. Meanwhile, Michelle was traveling there from her home in Watford and we were texting constantly to ascertain ETA. She, in the end, reached much before me as she had taken a bus that made very steady progress to the venue. En route, I passed by Ally Pally (Alexandra Palace, which is also on the cards for me to visit sometime).

At the turnstile, I encountered a return ticket problem but it was easily solved by the clerk who suggested I speak to the ticketing agent who promptly gave me a new ticket to help me get back. Problem solved! It is for such things that I am always grateful for the West and the civilized people who run such services—especially in the UK. Not even in the US would one get the sort of courtesy and politeness from service people that one gets in the UK.

b>Touring Hatfield House:

Luckily for us, my information was wrong, Hatfield House was not a 16 minute walk from the station—in fact, its main gate, sporting a large bronze seated sculpture of Robert Arthur Talbot, Marquess of Salisbury, backed by impressive gates with the typical Tudor figures holding shields, symbols of guards, was right opposite the station.

Michelle had a coffee in the station café and then we crossed the street and were off. Poor Michelle had by then made the discovery that the House had been closed for the season only last Saturday—Bummer! This would mean that we could tour the Gardens and the Old Palace (usually not open to the public) for a reduced ticket price. Gardens for just 16 pounds (otherwise, with House, it is a steep 26!) and with the Old Palace Tour added it would be another 8 pounds. Michelle refused to let me pay, assuring me that this was entirely her treat. I made her promise that she would at least let me pay for lunch. Chatting with the ticketing clerk, we discovered that Tours of the Old Palace are given on the hour and that the Old Church opens after 2.00 pm. It was about 11.30 by the time we had arrived there and by the time we strolled along the long driveway and saw the first views of the house, it was almost 12 noon. It made sense of us to join the 12 noon tour of the Old Palace.

Touring the Old Palace:

The tour of the Old Palace was given sharply at noon by a lady calling herself Jo, short for Joanna. We were the fifth and sixth person to join it as two other couples had arrived before us. Joanna gave us a ton of information as we moved from one room to the next. Here is what I remember:

Hatfield House was built in the early 1500s and was used by King Henry VIII as a nursery for his children—Mary (Tudor), Elizabeth and later Edward. It is the place in which Edward was educated in keeping with his destiny to become future King of England and since Elizabeth was in the place too, she was fortunate to also receive an education at the same time, by private tutors—the best in the land, of course. Mary seems to have been out of the picture—but she was older by a few years. The tutors waxed lyrical about the intellectual capacity of both children but Elizabeth was particularly bright and her tutor is reported to have said that “she dazzled”. In the process, she learned history, languages (she could speak five) and math and excelled at them all.

After her father Henry VIII died and her sister, the staunchly Catholic Mary (also known as Bloody Mary) came to the throne, she was afraid that her sister Elizabeth would plot and plan to overthrow her and bring Protestantism back to the land. Hence, during Mary’s reign, Elizabeth was placed under virtual house arrest at Hatfield House in this building, referred to as the Old Palace. Mary died (after a brief 18 months on the throne) and Elizabeth acceded to the throne—it was 1558 and she was 24 years old. By this time, she had already become aware of a young statesman with whom she connected and felt comfortable—his name was William Cecil, Lord Burghley. He would become her most trusted advisor and would stay in her service as her most loyal and faithful employee for the next 40 years. There was only a 3-month period when she did not talk to him—the time when she was deeply guilty about having signed the order for the Execution of her cousin, Mary, Queen of Scots (a Catholic)—a move that had been engineered by Cecil. In course of time, Cecil was named Duke of Salisbury and it is to the family of the Salisburys that this place belongs (it is still inhabited by the present Marquess of Salisbury) as King Henry exchanged this palace for one at Theobalds with the Cecils.

As we passed by the rooms in the Palace, we saw enlarged replicas of the signatures of some of the most historically significant figures of the period—Henry, Mary, Elizabeth, Lord Cecil, even Walter Raleigh (on the walls). There are also seven portrait busts, done after the style of Tudor court painter, Hans Holbein, featuring Henry surrounded by his famous six wives! Through this period, as we went from room to room, Joanna paused to let us sit down and listen to her mini-history lesson and it as just marvelous. We saw a really grand and well carved chair (more like a throne) that Elizabeth would have used. We also saw a set of paintings, the originals of which hang in Westminster Hall in London.

As the little tour wound down, we arrived at the Great Hall, one of those long and massive medieval rooms whch were used for multiple functions: great state banquets, the performance of masques and plays, even jousting matches. This one also has a checkered history having been used over the years as a kitchen and as a stable for horses. The timbered ceiling is easily the most striking feature (peppered with gun shot marks as attempts were made to kill destructive sparrows on the eves). But as one looks further afield, there are the amazing series of tapestries. These are digital reproductions on linen but they are simply spectacular as they depict the lifestyle, customs and traditions of the Renaissance period with lavish costumes, head-dresses, past times, etc. The originals are in the Victoria and Albert Museum. We enjoyed our wandering around this huge room as we made our way to a small ante-chamber at the back where there was a huge Inglenook fireplace. These rooms are given out today for events and this room forms the bar and serving space.

Next, Joanna pointed out a ‘Real Tennis’ court to us, behind a very nondescript door, set into the gorgeous red brick work of these buildings. We were also taken to the little hill at the top of Fore Street where the parish church of Bishops Hatfield is located—one of the oldest and most historic churches in Great Britain. It is not really connected to the Palace except that Lord William Salisbury is buried here and his tomb is one of the most spectacular in the country. Since it opens after 2.00pm, we nipped first into the tennis court to watch a match in progress (this part of the house is 18th century—so the Tudors would not have played here although Henry was an enthusiastic sportsman).

Lunch in the Palace Café:

We were hungry by the point and eager for a break and since it was almost 1.30pm, Michelle suggested we stop for lunch. The Palace Café was the only place to eat—and so we settled down with a Hummus and Salad Wrap for her and a Coronation Chicken Salad Sandwich for me. I asked for it to be warmed and toasted and with just water to wash down our repast, we had a nice meal—although not terrific. It met our needs for food before we used the facilities to continue on our wandering.

Our Tour Continues:

By this point, we were passing by some interesting shops and so we stopped to browse. I ended up buying a scarf ring (similar to the very pricey ones sold by Hermes) as I have so many scarves and cannot wait to try different ways to use it.

We also began our tour of the Gardens and I was able to see why the father-son team of Tradescants were so highly thought of in their time. Imagine…their designs and handiwork still survive more than five hundred years later. They experimented vastly with landscape design, building gardens to compliment the striking red brick work (often set in patterns on the wall) of the glorious palace buildings that they would flank. And so we walked through an Italianate Garden, a Knot Gardens (with a built-in maze), Lady Gwendolyn’s Garden, a Herbaceous garden filled with borders of typically English flowers in a soft color palette of essentially white and shades of purple. Quinze trees were laden with autumn fruit but bramble (blackberries) bushes were past their prime. There were still late-summer roses and loads of autumn joy sedum. But with the crisp nip of Autumn in the air, it is appropriate that a lot of flowers have started wilting to make room for the arrival of a new season.

Touring the Church of Bishops Hatfield:

When we had finished touring the gardens (and, honestly, these are so vastly spread out that a golf buggy as in Chatsworth, would have been most welcome), we made our way to the Church as it was long past 2.00 pm by this time and it would be open.

It turned out to be a most fascinating place—not only really old and atmospheric but crammed with significant historic monuments, each of which told a story. Of these, the following are most meaningful: The Tomb of Lord William Cecil, sculpted in white and black marble by Maximillian Colt—his effigy in marble lies on top of the tomb with a skeleton just below—to symbolize the bunch of bones to which we will all be reduced after death grabs us. The tomb is flanked by four figures all of which are in solid marble and represent the various art and business interests of the Salisburys. There is also a small metal plaque to mark the fact that King Charles II had visited this church. Over on the other side, is a grand stained glass window by one of my favorite artists, Edward Burne-Jones, executed in the workshop of his close friend, William Morris. I feasted my eyes on it and took many pictures. There is also a small memorial plaque to signify the death of Lord Melbourne (known as Lord M), one of Queen Victoria’s most trusted advisors. He was married to Lady Caroline Lamb who had a notorious and passionate affair with the poet Lord Byron, When asked why she had been unfaithful to her famous and very powerful husband, she had said, “He is mad, bad and very dangerous to know”. We also paused to admire the tiled flooring which certainly proclaims its age. The church dates from the 1100s. Outside, we paused to take in the graveyard with its aged, moss-covered stones but did not stay too long.

Finding Elizabeth’s Oak Tree:

One of the most significant items to see on this site is the oak tree under which Elizabeth I was sitting when she received news of her accession to the throne. The three messengers who rode up to meet her, alighted from their horses and fell on their knees. She is reported to have fallen on her knees as well and said, “This is the Lord’s doing and it is marvelous in our eyes”, quoting directly from the Books of Psalms. And so began one of the most glorious of reigns and an era that gives its name to an Age. Michelle and I went looking for it and found ourselves on a wild goose chase as we were misdirected by another visitor who probably did not understand what we were asking of her. However, in the process, we had a lovely ‘woodland walk’, one of the many on the property that also brought me face-to-face with a deer!

When we did eventually find the oak tree, it was old, gnarled and completely devoid of any foliage. It is, in fact, a dead tree, kept there and fenced all over, for historic symbolism alone. Who knows how long it will continue to stand—so I was grateful to see it and bring meaning to a very important moment in British history, Yes, we did take pictures and then it was time for us to hurry along. Michelle had another appointment at 6.00 pm, I had theater tickets for the 7.30 pm show at the National Theater and both of us had a long journey to get there. So we said our goodbyes, not really knowing when we will see each other again—sooner rather than later, we hope.

Journey Back Home and a Few Detours:

And so, I retraced my steps back on the National Rail train to Finsbury Park and from there took the Piccadilly Line to Holborn. There, I alighted to run across the Sainsbury to buy my bottles of golden syrup. I do not get these in the States or in India and I use them to make my home made granola. I also bought myself a pack of 2 bowls of tiramisu—this too is one of my favorite thing to eat in England and I never leave without treating myself to this creamy dessert (Sainsbury makes it best).

Then I jumped back on the Tube and got off two stations later at St. Paul’s. My idea was to cross the Millennium Bridge on foot and get to the Tate Modern Museum which takes in the last visitors at 5.30 pm. I would just about make it. But first, I sat down on a bench at St. Paul’s and ate one of my tiramisu cups as I was hungry and also sorely tempted by my treat. Then, I crossed Wobbly Bridge as the rays of the setting sun bounced off all the glass on the concrete skyscrapers that keep altering London’s skyline daily. I took a few pictures on the Bridge and arrived at the Tate where I made my way straight up to the fourth floor to see the exhibition by Richard Long on the theme of ‘Walking’—something with which I could easily identify! It was a most interesting show involving photographs, installations, painted murals on the wall, etc. But by them by feet, cramped in my sneakers, were killing me and I had to stop for a bit of rest.

Making My Way to the National Gallery:

Well, as it was still only 6.00 pm (when the Tate closed) and I had a 7.30 pm appointment to see ‘Bacchae’ at the National Theater with Roz who would be meeting me there, I decided to take a very leisurely walk along the South Bank from the Tate to the Theater. And that was exactly what I did. It was a beautiful evening, the weather just perfect. Light bounced off the various buildings, people were looking forward to the weekend (apparently Thursday is the new Friday in Britain as many people work from home on Fridays) and the wine bars and pubs were filling up quickly. There were stalls selling a lot of street food on the South Bank and when I passed by the skate-boarding rink, I was amazed to see how much graffiti covers it. It was all very interesting.

the National Theater:

Eventually, I did get to the National and found Roz in the lobby enjoying a glass of white wine. I ordered a glass of cider for myself from the bar and since I was allowed to take it up to the theater (provided I put it in a plastic cup), I took my time consuming it. We stepped off on the terrace at the very top and had some lovely views of the river and Waterloo Bridge with the dome of St. Paul’s in the far distance. We took some pictures here and then hurried to our seats which were not bad at all.

So what did I think of the play? It was based on a tragedy by Eurypides and was rewritten by one Nina Taleghani. It was almost entirely a Black cast, many of whom had strong Caribbean accents. The language of the play was absolutely putrid and unnecessarily strong. I could not connect or identify with the play at all which did boast some good performers. Music and choreography were fine, direction was good too, and some stage effects were interesting, But, overall, I will say that although I liked the play, I did not love it. And Roz had exactly the same reaction. For the first ten minutes, she actually wondered if she should leave, she said. But then she was glad she stayed as she warmed to the manic energy of it all and rather enjoyed it. I thought the whole production had too much going on and I would not really recommend it to anyone else.

Home for Dinner:

Being that I’d made dinner appointments with friends for all of the days that I was staying with Roz, I was glad to finally have an evening with her. We hurried off to Waterloo after the play to take a bus to Vauxhall from where we changed to another bus. We got home at about 11.00 pm by which time Roz said she was starving. She had purchased some butternut Squash and Sage Ravioli from Marks that morning together with a small jar of tomato sauce and by chopping some mushrooms that she added to the dish and some curls of parmesan cheese, we had ourselves a really very quick and easy dinner that we relished with glasses of wine and finished off with chocolate covered gingers.

And so another day came to an end in London. Tomorrow, Roz will take me shopping for the last few things I need to buy. But I will have the afternoon to take in some more sights (I hope), once my packing is done and the evening to visit the Victoria and Albert Museum.

Until tomorrow, cheerio…

More St. James, Hard Rock Café ‘Vault’ and Strange Interlude

Thursday, July 18, 2013:

London

       It was another productive and very exciting day! Oh and really hot too! I was up by 5. 30 am and by 8. 30 am, had already put in three full hours of work at my computer. As I was on a roll, I decided not to go to Mass. Instead, I washed, dressed, breakfasted on my soaked muesli and set out to meet my day.

First item on my agenda was the bus (521 from across the street) to Waterloo Bridge to get to the National Theater. I was keen to see Anne-Marie Duff—an actress I have grown to love ever since I saw her play Elizabeth I in The Virgin Queen. The National does not sell 10 pound tickets---but they do have Day Tickets for 12 pounds and I was delighted to snag one for the 7.00 pm show. Armed with my buy, I took the bus from across the road to Bloomsbury and went directly to my NYU office at Bedford Square.

At NYU at Bedford Square:
        Both weekday porters who happen to know me well and still remember my name—Mo, short for Mohammed and Mark North, were at the desk and how delighted they were to see me! They put me immediately on to my colleague Ruth who came downstairs to meet me and took me to meet Eric, our Associate Director, who joined after my time in London. We spent a little while together. It was so great to see Ruth again especially since there has been a massive change of guard and many new faces have been added to the staff roster at NYU-London. Our program has also expanded exponentially with two new adjoining houses being added to the original premises. Then I went down to the basement Computer Labs to print out some more material for editing in the next few days and about half an hour later, I was off.

Continuing Explorations at St. James’ and Piccadilly:
      Leaving Bedford Square behind me, I walked to Bloomsbury to take a bus to continue my explorations of St. James’ and Piccadilly. I arrived again at the Statue of Eros at Piccadilly Circus, went into Nespresso for another reviving espresso and crossed Air Street and Regent Street to get back to Piccadilly where I returned to Fortnum and Mason to pick out a few more of their goodies to give away as gifts as I have already been receiving invitations to dinner from local London friends, who, I know would love some of their specialty foods. I discovered that on the Lower Ground floor, it is possible to stash buys in storage for later retrieval.

      On to Jermyn Street I went. Here, I discovered a specialty fromagier—Paxton and Whitfield is a cheese shop that I have heard great things about from Nigella Lawson’s show and Twitterfeed. Inside, I sampled many of their wares and picked up one of their readymade “Picnic Bags” as I was running out of cheese myself: it contained 2 chunks of English Stilton, 1 nice round of goat cheese and a hunk of Gruyere—nice!

      Then, I was turning into the Duke of Gloucester Street to enter St. James’ Park with its equestrian sculpture of William IV in the center. On another sizzling London day, it was filled with office-goers eating picnic lunches on the lawn. I sat myself down for a bit, then resumed my walking tour in search of the famous London Library. Although entry is strictly for members only (and a very pricey membership it is too of 465 pounds a year), I did get into the Reception area and glanced around before picking up a leaflet outlining the history of the place and its illustrious members over the years. Founded by Thomas Carlyle, it numbers both famous Victorian Charles-es—Darwin and Dickens—among its members as well as Arthur Conan Doyle, George Bernard Shaw, T.S. Eliot, Virginia Woolf, E.M. Forster, Winston Churchill, Agatha Christie, Vita Sackville-West. John Betjeman, Kingsley Amis, Tom Stoppard, both Simons—Callow and Schama--and Bruce Chatwin (and this is only a selection) among its members. Stories associated with this library are rife.

      I had no time to linger and off I went towards Green Park to make a detour on to Duke’s Hotel which is the location of the famous Duke’s Bar whose bartender Gilberto once mixed the best martinis in the world (according to City Secrets London). Alas, Gilberto is no longer there but the current bartender permitted me to poke around, admire the signed photograph of Sean Connery (forever associated with James Bond who famously liked his martinins “shaken not stirred” although purists know that maritinis are neither shaken nor stirred!) on the wall. I ate my ham and Stilton sandwich lunch in the shade on lawn chairs provided by the hotel, used their facilities and then off I went again towards St. James’ Street.

       Here, I paused to see two things: The famous wine merchant, the oldest one in the world, called Berry Brothers and Rudd, whose interior is worth a visit for two reasons: it is extremely old-world and atmospheric and it contains a gigantic weighing scale, once used to weigh merchandise but, by the 18th century, used to weigh the area’s well-heeled residents. I was treated to a taste of a fine liqueur called King’s Ginger (it was amazing: plainly gingerly with a hint of lemon and similar to Drambuie) and given several recipe cards contained cocktails on the back. I saw a letter from the offices that owned the Titanic informing the company that the disaster had taken a case of their wine down into the ink-black waters that night. The displays are stirring and any history buff will have a fine time browsing the walls for memorabilia, not to mention a connoisseur of fine wines. I had the time of my life

     Then, following advice in City Secrets London, I entered adjoining Pickering Place, a tiny residential enclave surrounded by black brick buildings and crowned by a large sun dial in the center. It is Dickensian in the extreme and filled with scarlet geraniums spilling from window boxes which was truly lovely.

      I walked on then to St. James’ Palace. Its famous twin-towered Tudor gates were closed and had no guards outside them—they were further up the road. Into Marlborough House I went, once a grand 18th century private mansion, but was told that it was not open to the public—I distinctly remember sauntering inside, a few years ago, with my friend Loreen from Wilton, Connecticut, and admiring the thick skeins of wisteria that festoon its walls and using the loo in what is today the Commonwealth offices. Next door, the Queen’s Chapel, designed by Inigo Jones, was also closed: I have plans to return to it this coming Sunday for 8. 30 am Eucharistic services. A short loop around Spencer House—childhood London home of Princess Dina and now owned by her brother the current Earl Spencer--which I had visited in March with my former student (now a London banker) Kent Lui, brought me to Green Park through which I strolled briefly at the end of a long and humid afternoon which was crammed with sun-bathers.

      St. James’ area is always a joy to peruse: it has history, brilliant architecture, enticing upscale stores (some of my favorites) for unique shopping in an atmosphere in which you are made to feel like a Queen, fine parks, grand hotels—indeed it is London at its most genteel and I have always felt entitled to enjoys its amusements if only for a while.

Off to the ‘Vault’ at the Hard Rock Café:
      One of the things I am doing during my stay this time round is see as many of the Fifty Unusual Museums of London (that I downloaded from the Visit Britain website) as I can. One of them mentioned the Vault at the Hard Rock Café which was in the vicinity—at the end of Piccadilly near Hyde Park. I jumped into a bus going in that direction, got off at the end of the road near the Wellington Arch and walked through crazy traffic circles and the taxis emerging out of The Mall towards the Hard Rock Café.

      It is amazing but despite all our travels, the only Hard Rock Café that I have ever visited and eaten in is in New York. I had never been to the London one—which explains why I had never seen or even heard of The Vault: this is an underground treasury of musical memorabilia associated with the world of rock music. Guided tours are given every 20 minutes and I joined a couple waiting their turn before being taken downstairs at 3.00 pm by a young man.

       We found ourselves in a very well-lit underground cavern (we had taken a flight of narrow stairs to get down there) into a real vault: there were thick and heavy doors through which we went past. The guide explained that these premises once belong to Coutts Bank, bankers to the royal family and that Diana’s wedding dress had once lain in this space for safe-keeping. In 1991, when the bank went out of business, and the Hard Rock Café bought the premises, it inherited the Vault—and, therefore, decided to make a true showpiece of it by acquiring, at auction, items of clothing as well as letters and musical instruments belonging to stars. It is a tiny space but crammed with all sorts of items to thrill music buffs: I spied Bob Dylan’s guitar, Madonna’s bustier (worn at one of her ‘shocking’ concerts) and her credit card (on which her name is given as Madonna Circonne), John Lennon’s army outfit, one of Jimi Hendrix’s many guitars, letters from and to The Temptations and The Beach Boys—and on and on it went. It does not take longer than 15 minutes to poke around as well as see the bevy of photographs outside featuring musical giants who have performed at the Hard Rock Café. I would say that if one is not really interested in buying souvenir merchandise sold by the café, then a visit to this Vault would be fun. I had a good time.

       But I was also ready to get back to F&M to pick up my buys and then hop on to the buses to get home. I needed to rest, and to shower and dress for my evening out and indeed that was exactly what I did—I even managed to fit in a short half hour nap.

Off to the National Theater to see Strange Interlude:
      My evenings at London’s theaters are getting better daily. Tonight I was spellbound by the acting talent of Anne-Marie Duff playing Nina in Eugene O’Neil’s Strange Interlude. Now this is a play I had never seen in performance; indeed it is a play with which I am unfamiliar. And what a brilliant play it turned out to be with such an unusual story and a plot that was so unpredictable because it could go anywhere. I had chosen to see this play because, as one of her long-time admirers, I could not wait to see Duff in the flesh and I was not disappointed. She was simply riveting as Nina and in the support she received from such consummate actors as Charles Edwards who played Good Old Charlie Marsden (he is familiar to fans of Downton Abbey as the married editor to whom Lady Edith is attracted and for whose newspaper she starts to contribute articles), she was superb. Indeed every one of the characters did a grand job and given the fact that I had front row seats (for 12 pounds, did I mention?) which allowed me to watch every single expression on every single actor’s face, I was in Theater Heaven. Not surprisingly, the play has received superlative reviews and I felt privileged to be able to see it for myself.

      I am thrilled by these Day Tickets and hope to pick up one tomorrow for The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time. On Monday, I shall try for Othello, also at the National but the ticket clerk has warned me to queue really early for that one.

       As it was a very long play, it finished at 10. 30. I was home by 11.00 pm and by the time I had dinner (scrambled eggs, Cumberland sausages, salad), it was almost midnight and I was ready to call it a day. My days seems to be divided nicely between editing work, a walking tour, a museum and a play! In fact, it is London as its most varied and most entertaining. What's not to love???

      Until tomorrow, cheerio!

Touring the Tower,the Silver Vaults, Dickens' London & National Theater

Monday, January 16, 2012
London

An Early Start for the Tower of London:
Our NYU group was initially supposed to take a ride on the London Eye--but, to our bad luck, it remains closed this week for renovation. In lieu of that treat, our local travel agents--Anglo-America--suggested the Ceremony of the Keys at the Tower of London. Never having witnessed the spectacle, I was eager to attend and persuaded my students to get a quick start, an early breakfast and to make a beeline for the Tubes. Although we tried to race ahead, it is not easy getting a group of 45 odd people into the Underground trains at peak hour. We managed to get to the Tower by the skin of our teeth to watch the pomp and pageantry associated with the ceremony.

For the uninitiated, the Tower of London, which once housed the monarch (but merely the treasures of the Crown today in the form of the famed jewels), is locked up each evening (in yet another small spectacle) and opened each morning before the public is allowed inside. The locking-up ensures that no strangers or intruders linger on the premises to endanger the collection . Today, the holder of the keys is escorted by four armed guards because some time in the hoary past, one of the traders who used to fill the Tower, was annoyed at having to close down trade at the end of the day and cuffed the Key-bearer a whack. Every since then, he is protected in this important duty. The march down the main pathway inside the Tower and back takes only a few minutes--after which we were shooed off and told to return with the rest of the public at 10 am.

A Stroll Along Tower Bridge:
With an hour to kill, my colleague Robin and I decided to climb the stairs leading to Tower Bridge and to stroll along its length. It was a gorgeous morning, if a little nippy, and we kept thinking how much we've lucked out with the weather. Glorious sunshine has been following us around all week long and I am afraid to comment on the weather lest I might jinx it. The stroll was just delightful and when we returned to the guard box near the moat, we were right in time to begin our tour. Again, unfortunately, there is a whole lot of construction going on inside the Tower--which has meant that the Yeoman Warders (also known as Beefeaters) are not able to do their normal rounds of guided tours.

Left to my own resources, I made my way first to Bloody Tower, renowned as the prison of Sir Walter Raleigh who spent nine years inside with his family and wrote his History of the World in a room while under captivity. I had not seen this room in 25 years--so it was a refreshing addition to the bits of the Tower that I usually do not miss. A first edition of Raleigh's book was proudly on display in a glass case as were the desk and chair at which he produced his masterpiece. Bloody Tower was also the site of the murder of the two young sons of Edward IV and although it has never been proven who was responsible for their deaths, fingers of blame have pointed variously at Richard III and Henry VII. A very dramatic rendition of the circumstances surrounding their deaths is available in the room in which they were allegedly smothered in their beds as they slept.

Then it was time for me to join the guided tour at 10. 30 am and in the company of a Yeoman Warder with a particularly strong Welsh accent, I was led to the Church of St. Peter Ad Vincula (St. Peter in Chains). There, the assembled throng was treated to a history of the church together with many apologies from the guide about the reasons for the abbreviated tour. I was delighted to find a memorial plaque on the wall of the chapel to Field-Marshal Chetwode who had served in India and whose daughter, Lady Penelope Chetwode (married to Poet Laureate Sir John Betjeman), I had met and made friends with long years ago while I was a teenager in Simla, in North India. I asked the guide if he would make an exception and permit me to take a picture of the plaque and he did so "with pleasure" (or so he said).

My next stop was the White Tower, the oldest part of the Tower and once London's highest structure (at four storeys) and visible for a good five miles as one approached the city. Today it is used as a receptacle for royal arms and armour and presents a wonderful opportunity to study such implements (if one is so inclined). I then made my way to yet another building that houses an exhibition on the Royal Fusiliers and then, because I know that I ought to save the best for last, I went into the building holding the famous Crown Jewels. No matter how often one gazes at them, they are still fascinating and devoid of the summer crowds that make a visit to the Tower rather challenging, it was great to have the hall to ourselves. As always, the Koh-i-noor Diamond and the Cullinan (Star of Africa) Diamond coax the loudest gasps but it is the darling 60th Diamond Jubilee crown designed and made for Queen Victoria that always steals my heart away.

A quick nip into the Crown Jewels shop saw me emerge from it with a lovely pearl necklace based on Tudor designs--at a heavily discounted price, it was indeed a bargain and made a nice souvenir of my visit.

Lunch with Barbara near Chancery Lane:
Then, I was on the 15 bus (hoping to hop into one of the old Routemasters but not succeeding) and getting off at Chancery Lane down which I walked past all the smart shops selling expensive clothing that only the lawyers that frequent the area can afford. My destination was 25 Southampton Building, where my friend and former next-door neighbor Barbara, has her office--as a patent lawyer it is only fitting that her office is located in the basement of the former London Patent Office. After I went through stringent security, Barbara gave me a tour of the building and grand it was too--the ground floor retains the look of a library (though this is only decorative today), the towering ceiling was decorated with plaster motifs, a huge clock is embedded in the center and galleries resembling the various decks of a ship surround the interior. It was just fabulous. Barbara then took me down to her little office over which her Office Bear keeps guard (for she is a collector of teddy bears).

When our tour was completed, Barbara and I made our way to High Holborn to look for a light meal and it was at a pub called The Melton Mowbray which I had passed by a gazillion times as it was in my former 'hood, that we settled down in a corner close to a fireplace to chat over beer and cider and soup for Barbara and a delicious Mushroom and Mustard Tart for me. All too soon, however, our cozy tete-a-tete had to end as Barbara had to return to work--but not before she led me into the London Silver Vaults that are concealed in the basement of the building about which few visitors know. In fact, it seems that I had to return to America to find the place!

Exploring London's Silver Vaults:
London's Silver Vaults are just that: well-secured vaults for the storage of sterling silver items that are prized for their provenance, antiquity and artistic accomplishment. I had intended to survey the merchandise only--revelling in the knowledge that such museum quality pieces were actually available for sale--at a handsome price, of course, but available nonetheless. Barbara left me to my own devices in a few moments to return to work; and less than half an hour later, I made a purchase that thrills me so much that I have absolutely no buyer's remorse although it was a rather impulsive buy. I look forward now to my solitary tea-time at home in Southport when I shall have the pleasure of serving my own tea in an antique Victorian silver teapot with matching sugar and creamer.

Off to see Dickens' London at the Museum of London:
Then, I was hopping buses again and heading to the London Wall to get to the Museum of London to see the special exhibition entitled 'Dickens' London' that celebrates the 200th anniversary of the novelist's birth. Barbara had advised me to see the 20 minute film (that is usually seen at the end of the exhibition) at the outset and I was glad I did. The museum which is free to the public, charged eight pounds for the ticket--but for my money, being able to see the original unfinished painting by Bucks (entitled Dickens' Dream), the desk and chair that he used while writing his novels at his house in Gad's Hill near Rochester, Kent (and which feature in the painting) were worth every penny of my entry fee. Several manuscripts, proofreading copies and first editions of his novels were on display as were large numbers of paintings and engravings of the various parts of London that he had frequented and loved--most of them are found within a compact two mile radius of the City and comprise places that I myself known so well and love. So, overall, I enjoyed perusing the display.

I did not want to leave the Museum of London without spending some time at the new exhibit entitled The Victorian Walk (I had seen it briefly on my last visit four months ago in August and had felt compelled then to return to spend more time in it at a later date). Needless to say, it tied in perfectly with the Dickens' exhibition I had just seen--and I loved every moment of the time I spent there as I browsed from one store front to the next created to replicate the busy streets of London in Victoria's reign--from the barber and the banker to the pharmacist and the grocer. There was even a public urinal dating from those times for the use of which people paid a penny: hence the expression "to spend a penny!"

Joining my Colleagues for Dinner at Wagamama:
With an hour to spare before I met my colleagues (Wilnelia, Robin, and Paolo and Louis) for dinner on the South Bank, I took the 100 bus to St. Paul's from where I changed to the 15 to ride along Fleet Street. I alighted at Somerset House, crossed Waterloo Bridge on foot and arrived at Wagamama which is a favorite Japanese chain of restaurants in London (alas, not yet present in the US). It was an especially pleasant walk along the river bank with the beautifully illuminated buildings throwing multi-colored reflections into the water. Before long, my colleagues joined me and we sat down to enjoy big bowlfuls of soup that swam with noodles and seafood and all manner of delicious morsels. When we had eaten our fill, we made our way to our next appointment--a theater date at the National.

Seeing Lenny Henry in The Comedy of Manners:
Having seen The Comedy of Manners at the Regent's Park Open Air Theater with my friend Cynthia less than two years ago, I would ordinarily have been reluctant to see the play again. But when I had discovered that comedian Lenny Henry would be taking the lead role, it became a no-brainer for me and I looked a ticket online without losing any time at all. I had adored Henry in Chef, a BBC TV series that I had first seen on PBS in the States. So you can imagine what a great time we had at the theater for Henry was in top form, the production was superb, the sets and set changes were simply marvelous and the audience was amazingly interactive. Shakespeare's words were articulated with humor and brilliance. It made for a fun-filled evening at the theater and I felt deeply gladdened that I had managed to get a ticket.

A Stroll over Hungerford Bridge Back Home:
Not wanting to stay up too late, we walked across Hungerford Bridge stopping frequently to take pictures of the beautifully illuminated city buildings until we reached the Embankment from where we took the Tube to get back home. It did not fail to occur to me that I had started the day strolling over an antique brigde (Tower Bridge) and was ending it by strolling over another--the far more conemporary Hungerford.

Without wasting too much time, we reached our rooms and decided to make an early night of it as we have to start before dawn tomorrow for our coach ride to Liverpool.