Hello Again Isle of Wight! Lunch with Friends and Visit to Osborne House, Victoria & Albert's Sumptuous Seaside Hideout!

Hello Again Isle of Wight! Lunch with Friends and Visit to Osborne House, Victoria & Albert's Sumptuous Seaside Hideout!

Isle of Wight

Monday, May 16, 2022

    Today was an extraordinary day! A major item on my Bucket List was ticked off today! So here's how it all happened!

    A few years ago, through Twitter, I connected with the daughter of Kamala Markandaya, the Indo-British novelist on whom I had done my doctoral dissertation, several decades ago. When Covid restrictions were removed and I found out I was traveling again to Britain, I informed her and she graciously volunteered to host lunch for me and Llew at her home on the Isle of Wight. Now, I had visited this lovely island for the first and last time over 35 years ago and since that time, I had discovered so much more about Queen Victoria, who became my favorite monarch of all time. After reading Antonia Fraser's biography of Victoria, my estimation of her had soared and knowing what a huge part her seaside retreat on the Isle of Wight played in her life, I became quite determined to visit it. However, getting to the Isle of Wight from London is a huge production--it is tedious, lengthy and expensive. And so, somehow, I never returned. This invitation to lunch provided the perfect opportunity to return--I would meet Kamala's daughter and walk in the footsteps of an empress.

Journey to the Isle of Wight:

    Llew and I awoke in Paddington at 6.00 am to shower and leave at 6.45 for our 8.07 train to Southampton from Waterloo. We picked up breakfast pastries (almond croissants, chocolate-hazelnuts croissants) and hazelnut yogurt at Sainsbury and decaff coffee from Delice de France. Equipped with breakfast, we boarded our express train for the hour-long journey south. Once there, we needed to take a taxi to the ferry terminal (a good ten-minute drive or half an hour on foot, cost about 7 pounds). The Red Jet Fast Ferry was just about to leave when we bought our tickets (13 pounds each, return) and boarded it. The day was wet again and drizzly but the sea was still calm. We were amazed at how quickly we arrived at West Cowes, the little town on the Isle of Wight where a famous regatta is held each year, Folks say it sports a 1950's ambience throughout and has not changed in all that time. But I soon found out that the same could be said of any seaside resort in the UK--Weymouth in Dorset, for instance. They wear the same, slightly faded, Victorian air about them. At the ferry terminal, Kim was waiting for us in her car. She turned out to be the warmest, most delightful person and we immediately clicked. A short ride past quiet streets lined with neat houses brought us to her own home where we had the pleasure of meeting her husband, Mark.

A Wonderful Afternoon in Jolly, Nostalgic Company:

    I had brought Kim a gift from India and together, Llew and I had picked up a bottle of red wine for them. As soon as we arrived at their place, Mark asked us what we would like to drink--I opted for something soft and was given a pear, apple and rhubarb drink. Llew asked for red wine and Mark opened the bottle we had brought as he had intended to serve us a white wine of which Llew is not a fan. Nibbles in the form of olives were provided as, drinks in hand, we climbed a few stairs up to their living room that overlooked the sea. During our chat, I was charmed to see ferries make their way across the Solent from their window. 

    It is still amazing to me how thoroughly and thoughtfully Kim prepared for our visit.  Laid out on the coffee table in front of us were the two new reprinted novels, two publicity leaflets in French for a new translation of The Coffer Dams and my own book, a critical analysis of Kamala Markandaya's ten novels that was published in 2000. In fact, this was a copy that I had mailed to Kamala together with a hand-written letter to thank her for assisting me in my research! I was enchanted and very honored that among her late mother's belongings, Kim had retained these items. Taking pride of place on the table was also a family album containing pictures that went back to Kim's grandparents on her mother's side. We had an opportunity to peruse the album together, comment on the interesting life she had led, talk about her relationship with her English in-laws, etc. I told Kim some of the aspects of her life that Kamala had shared with me during our time together and she filled in some gaps and helped me understand some aspects a little better. Kim is just lovely and Mark added in snippets of his memories of her as a mother-in-law too--all good ones, of course! The time flew by as we took pictures and chuckled and I shared with Kim the reason why I had the distinctive privilege of working with her mother who gave me unstintingly of her time. It was such an unusual time we spent together that I savored every second of it! I mean, just think...how many junior scholars from India have the opportunity to conduct research at Oxford on a British Council Grant? How many have the chance to meet and work with the author on whom their dissertation is based? And how many, decades later, are brought together with the author's daughter in such congenial circumstances? Indeed, I am repeatedly blessed as a scholar and I cannot thank God enough for these rare opportunities that he has provided me through the many productive years of my academic career. These are indeed its high points and I have to sometimes pinch myself that they have actually happened.

    Lunch followed with more wine flowing around a table that groaned with a selection of absolutely delicious foods: coleslaw, potato salad, hummus, cold cuts, a selection of cheeses, bread sticks, crackers and fresh, crusty bread, warm and crisp from the oven, with a chunk of butter. Lovely gigantic strawberries and cream for afters--early shades of Wimbledon! Wonderful camaraderie around the table as we enjoyed the offerings. We took photographs at every juncture, even out in the garden although it was still sprinkling from above. 

    But, all good things must come to an end and we simply had to gallop off to Osborne House which closed at 5.00 pm (as all places do in the UK). So, we thanked our hosts and got ready to leave as we put on jackets and picked up bags. Kim drove us to the spot from where we picked up the ferry (known as the floating bridge) for a less than five-minute sail from West Cowes across the river to East Cowes. From there, it was a long walk uphill--a very long walk although people told us it was ten minutes and fifteen minutes, it turned out to be more like half an hour in what began as a steady drizzle that was so bad, I actually stopped in a Mind Age charity shop and bought a new, small folding umbrella. But a few moments later, in fact by the time I left the shop, the rain had left us. Thank Goodness! We were able to enjoy the gardens at Osborne House on a bright and sunny, rain-washed afternoon.

Enjoying the Thrills of Osborne House:

    So, here is a little bit about Osborne House. It is a sumptuous palace located on the waterfront and has its own private beach. It was designed by Prince Albert as a seaside retreat to which he could take his large family of nine children so that they could enjoy family times together, far from the prying eyes of their London staff. The house is in beautiful condition, inside and out (it is, after all, less than 200 years old). From what I gather, it was only ever used by this one family. Once Victoria died in 1901, long after her husband did, it was never used again. By this time, apart from her oldest son, the Prince of Wales who became King Edward VII, none of her other eight children or 30 grandchildren were living in Britain. They had immersed themselves into the lives of other European monarchical families and never returned again to the home they would have remembered affectionately as the place in which they had lovely times together with their parents. In course of time,  Osborne House was acquired by English Heritage and it is they who run the place today. We paid almost 20 pounds each to get in and since one can easily spend an entire day here, it is best to arrive early and make a day of it. There is a lot to see. Apart from the house itself (which is simply stunning in its grandeur), there are the surrounding Italianate gardens and the Walled Garden, Victoria's Swiss Cottage and the Beach. There are also cafes and a gift shop, all of which I usually love to browse in...so I was somewhat disappointed that Llew and I had to rush through everything to be able to see it all before the place closed at 5.00 pm. In the end, as there are long walks to get from one bit of the property to the next, we did not get a chance to see Swiss Cottage or the beach---but perhaps we will return another time. Never say never...           

    As everyone knows, Albert was not only a fantastic husband (the great enduring love story of the 19th century is their marriage) and doting father, but he was a multi-talented person who was determined to make a difference in the lives of the people of England as long as he was the queen's consort. We owe so many remnants of Victorian life to him--the very existence of Albertopolis in London is his brain child. His enormous devotion to all disciplines of education and learning from Science to the Humanities and the Arts led to the conception and creation of so many of the museums of which London can boast. He is responsible for the Great Exhibition of 1851 that showcased the wealth of talents and craftsmanship of the people of the world for it brought to the forefront the glory of the colonies. 

    In his personal life too, he had impeccable taste and introduced Victoria to some of the great painters and sculptors of their time. His German background (he was a prince of Saxe-Coburg and a distant cousin of Victoria) led to the adoption of so many customs that we think of as essentially English--decorating a domestic Christmas tree each year, sending out Christmas cards, for instance. And, of course, the wearing of white wedding dresses is essentially an enduring fashion tradition that came from petite Victoria wanting to stand out on her wedding day in the midst of a sea of black-clad male courtiers! Indeed, when she adopted the wearing of black as a sign of mourning after Albert was snatched so cruelly from her at the age of 41, she began the custom of outward mourning through the color black. This started a whole trend in matching accessories in her day--parasols, gloves, jewelry made of jet (a black stone), etc. Far from being fusty and prudish, both Albert and Victoria celebrated nudity (as is seen in the many nude painting all over the walls). It was the Victorians, not Victoria herself, the straight-laced Parliamentarians with whom they were surrounded, that were embarrassed by their devotion. These were all the facts I gathered during our visit.

    This is how the visit proceeds: you go down endlessly long corridors that are completely lined on both sides with paintings and sculpture. While many of these were gifted to the royal couple, a large number of them were actually gifts they exchanged with each other for their own birthdays, anniversaries and Christmas. The visitor goes through the Reception Rooms where Victoria met her courtiers and visiting heads of state, on the ground floor. The most dazzling room of the initial ones we saw was the Yellow Room which was the family living room and which doubled up as a billiards room. On the top floor, are the bedrooms--I believe that Victoria and Albert were the first English monarchs to share a bedroom (most royalty prior to this time held separate bed chambers). You see Victoria and Albert's offices (they also shared an office and had desks that sit side by side each other--her's had porcelain bell pulls so that she could summon her secretarial assistants when she wanted their help). You see Albert's room--this is the one that Victoria retained throughout her life exactly as it was on the day he died. She was heard having conversations with him in their room and in their bedroom long after he had passed away. It then became clear to her courtiers that she was suffering a nervous breakdown and needed to be given a break from her state duties. After Albert died, she found solace in the happy spaces they had occupied together, far from the madding crowd, on the Isle of Wight. 

Victoria's Indian Connections:

    When you go back downstairs, on one of the most gorgeous staircases and stairwells I have ever seen, you arrive at a long corridor that is filled on both sides with oil-painted portraits of Victoria's Indian subjects. She had commissioned the Austrian portraitist Rudolf Swodoba to travel around India capturing the likeness of a variety of people as she knew that she would never be able to travel to India herself to see them. Swodoba had done a sterling job and the result is a veritable pantheon of contemporary Indian figures from maharajas to ordinary folk. It was in Victoria's time that the state of the Punjab was annexed and snatched away from Maharaja Duleep Singh who was only five when he inherited the throne and thirteen, when it was taken away from him. Perhaps out of respect for him (or maybe even guilt), Victoria and Albert became close friends of his (he had emigrated to England) and often invited him to Osborne House as their guest. His life-size oil portrait has pride of place in the house in the Indian Wing. As we all know from the film, Victoria and Abdul, she also became obsessed by India and its culture and brought two Indian scholars to her court in London--one of them was Abdul Karim who was her tutor. He taught her Indian history and culture and began giving her lessons in Urdu, a language in which she attained some competence. In fact, so deeply did she grow to love Abdul, that her courtiers became jealous and enraged and did their best to destroy their compatibility.            

The Sumptuous Durbar Hall:

    Not to be daunted by their censure, Victoria decided to decorate a room entirely in Indian style in an age in which all country estates were decorated in the Italian vein. She would call it the Durbar Hall. She hired the services of an Indian craftsman called Bhai Ram Singh who worked under the supervision of Lockwood Kipling (father of novelist Rudyard) who was then Director of the Mayo School of Art in Lahore (and later Principal of the J.J. School of Arts in Bombay). Singh used mainly wooden moulds to cover the walls and ceiling of a gigantic room with plaster and carton-pierre, a type of papier-mache common in the late 19th century. The end result is a staggeringly sumptuous room that makes you think you are in a royal palace in Jaipur. It was with the greatest of pleasure and pride that Victoria entertained royalty in this room. In fact, she went so far as to hire a number of Indian chefs and started the trend of eating Indian curries at her table. Needless to say, as soon as Victoria passed away, Abdul Karim was sent back to India by her racist courtiers who never acknowledged or appreciated the deep influence he had on restoring Victoria's mental equilibrium. All of these facts come home to the viewer in the amazing Durbar Hall which is also filled with a number of gifts from India that Victoria received in celebration of her golden and later diamond jubilees. I find it so significant that Llew and I are here to celebrate the Platinum Jubilee of the current queen who has just surpassed her great-grandmother in queenly longevity by three years so far. 

    The visitor route through Osborne House has been so cleverly constructed that viewers finish with the Durbar Hall which is certainly the piece de resistance of the house. When you leave, you are outside and ready for a cuppa or more exploration in the garden. 

Surveying the Gardens of Osborne Hall:  

     As Llew and I did not have too much time, we simply went straight through to the front of the house (visitors enter from the back) and were able to take pictures there. The sun had come out, thankfully, and we had a lovely afternoon in which to see that most spring flowers had faded, but that summer would bring fresh delights. Designed (by Albert) in Italianate style, the formal gardens right outside the house, contain a loggia and a fountain (recently refurbished to its original splendour) and the loggia is currently under scrutiny with that aim. No doubt when it is complete, it will also dazzle. Meanwhile, there are examples of outdoor statuary that are marvelous, not to mention fountains that proclaim the glory of English garden design.

    From the Italianate Gardens, we made our way to the Walled Garden which Victoria and Albert bought from their immediate neighbors. Here too spring's departure had taken the flowers with it, but last vestiges of giant tulips could be seen. It was too late for us to take the long walk downhill towards the sea to Swiss Cottage--so we nixed the idea. Instead with both of us dying for refreshment, we just about made it to the cafe for cups of tea and a cheese scone. Fueled with these eats, we made our way out of the property, through the gift shop from where I picked up a jar of passion fruit curd! Can't wait to enjoy it with some warm croissants soon. 

The Journey Back Home:

    And so it was that we retraced our steps back to London. It was just past 5.00 pm when we started the long trudge back to the floating bridge--thankfully, downhill this time, as we were both ready to drop. Five minutes on the floating bridge brought us back to West Cowes (from East Cowes). We then had a good twenty minute walk to the ferry Terminal where we used our Red Jet return tickets to be whisked across the Solent back to Southampton. A taxi ride followed (about seven pounds and ten minutes of a ride) and we were at Southampton train station in time to hop on to the 7.00 pm train to Waterloo. We were just too tired to go out for dinner. Instead we picked up Italian ready meals from Marks and Spencer (Ravioli in Tomato Sauce and Tagliatelle in Mushroom Sauce) at Waterloo and took the Tube to Paddington, back to our friend's place. 

 Dinner and Chitchat After a Long Day:

    Dinner was heated in the microwave once we were home and we really did enjoy telling our friend Bande all about our incredible day. It is not often than one has the kind of experiences we had today and we were both thoroughly satisfied, if fully wiped out, by our adventures. 

    Tomorrow and the day after will be just as hectic as we will be in Liverpool. It is another early morning rising for us tomorrow, so I shall now take your leave.

    Until tomorrow...cheerio.     

A Date With Dinosaurs, Getting Lost in a Maze and Viewing London from the Sky Garden on a Soggy Day

A Date With Dinosaurs, Getting  Lost in a Maze and Viewing London from the Sky Garden on a Soggy Day

London 

Sunday, May 15, 2022

    I guess when you say you have a date with dinosaurs in London, everyone knows you mean to head to the Crystal Palace Park! And Indeed, that was on the cards for Llew and me today--in the company of our friends Michelle and Mark. They had informed me that there was a train leaving Victoria at 10.20 am for our destination--and so we had to hurry to get ourselves organized in the morning for our day out. Unfortunately, it turned out to be the soggiest day of my stay in London so far--little snatches of a light drizzle made us use of brollies all day long.

    So we awoke at abut 6.30am and had breakfast of wonderfully warm and very crisp croissants which our friend Bande provided. These with decaff coffee made the perfect way to begin a day that would be spent largely on our feet. We left at 9.00 am from our flat in Paddington and took the Tube to Victoria Station where we purchased return tickets at the Ticket machine and awaited the announcement of our platform. When it was announced, we made our way to the gate, only to find that Michelle and Mark were actually just a few steps behind us.  Of course, we had a lovely reunion right there on the platform that was practically empty as the rest of London had its Sunday morning lie-in.

    All the way on the train, during the 40 minute ride into the southern suburbs of London, we chatted as we had so much catching up to do. We had last met in New York when they had visited, three years ago. I had given them a tour of the Met and we had then taken them for dinner to the Plaza del Sol Spanish Restaurant at Grand Central Station. So, it was great, this time round, to be on their home turf and to be in their hands as they expertly took us through a day they had planned. 

    About forty minutes later, we were in the vast grounds of Crystal Palace Park where there was a Junior Triathlon in progress.  As I mentioned earlier, it was drizzling when we arrived and it stayed that way through most of the day. In the course of rambling around the park, we passed by the Petting Zoo first where we saw some beautiful tan-colored nanny goats munching off the trees! Then, on went, towards the Dinosaurs which are the major attraction in this park.

Viewing the Creatures of the Jurrasic Age:

    So, here's what I know about the dinosaurs: Just as all the greatest sculptural works were brought to London in the form of plaster casts (now kept in the Cast Courts of the Victoria and Albert Museum), so too huge, almost life-size plaster casts were made of a variety of dinosaurs that were placed in this park. The idea was to leave nothing to the imagination.  They were installed in 1854 and have delighted viewers and visitors to the park ever since. Children, as you can understand, are particularly fond of these dinosaurs that are beautifully life-like.  Yes, they do wear their age quite openly on their sleeves, but gradual refurbishment is taking place and they are being stripped of more than a century of algae and moss accumulation. They are also wonderfully set by an artificial river that runs through the park and provides picturesque bridges on which people can pose for pictures--as did we! Michelle informed us that her grandfather had studied Engineering in the late-1800s in London at Crystal Palace College (now defunct) and had returned to India to become a civil engineer. She marveled at the fact that he had probably seen the same dinosaurs at which she was gazing. After taking many pictures, we left this very popular part of the Park and moved on.  

    The next item on our agenda was The Maze, another interesting spot that provides a fun activity in addition to the joy of actually seeing a real Victorian maze. For indeed, these parks were set up in the Age of Victoria as a way of providing people everywhere with 'lungs' that would enable them and the city to breathe freely. Right across London from Victoria Park in the East End to the Barnes Wetlands in the West and from north to south, these parklands nurture and preserve flora and fauna and make a day out a real joy. 

    As we made our way towards the Maze, we passed by a street market that lined both sides of a pathway. The stalls were fascinating as they offered a variety of foods from every corner of the world, eg. tacos from Mexico, Bhel puri from India, assorted pastries from France, bratwurst from Germany, etc. The aromas of smoking meat as it hit the hot grills in the park really whetted our appetite, but we knew we were going to have lunch later and we waited patiently.

 Get Lost--In the Maze!

    And finally, we reached the Maze which is, indeed, very well announced. By this time, we had been on our feet for at least two hours, so we were beginning to wilt. The light drizzle was still going strong and it kept us cool but a bit sprinkled. Of course, we had to try our luck in the maze and, of course, we got lost in it. But this was to be expected: that's why it is a Maze! Eventually, we had to cheat to get out by stepping over a low barrier! Not to leave without entering the center of the maze, we used the 'Escape Route' to get to the middle--there we saw a bunch of Spanish youth with loud. blaring personal music devices (much to Michelle's annoyance). We took a few pictures, studied the plan of the maze on the ground and realized there was no way we could have reached the center or figured the way out on our own.

    With the Maze done and dusted, it was time to figure out how to get out of the park. En route to the exit, we passed by the 'terraces' as they are known--platforms upon which the original Crystal Palace had been built and stood. It had been destroyed completely in a massive fire that engulfed the entire palace and led to the destruction of the bits of it that remained. Today, there was some Egyptian sphinxes that grace the park and gaze out over the terraces--all that remains of the original palace.

Lunch at Cafe Mozart:

    We soon found the exit and using her phone, Michelle as able to figure out where we would be having lunch. We found a place called Cafe Mozart. I loved the sound of it but when we entered, it turned out to be what the owner called 'A Snack Bar'. Anyway, we managed to get hot drinks (I had a hot chocolate) which were very welcome aw the cold wetness of the day persisted. While we sipped our drinks, he took our order--Llew had a Sweet Potato and Beans Burrito, Mark had a Sausage Roll, Michelle had a Spinach and Ricotta slice and I had a Chicken and Leek Slice. Thankfully, everything was hot and tasty and we received a little treatise on the art of using air-fryers from our host, Ken. 

    Just a little later, with lunch done, we made our way back to the train station, a short walk away, and took the train back to Victoria. We bid Michelle and Mark goodbye, thanked them for lunch (their treat) and then off we went. Llew and I had two full hours to kill before it was time for us to get to the Sky Garden at 21 Fenchurch Street. So, on impulse, as Llew had not seen Sir John Soane's House and Museum, I suggested we get off at Holborn and cover it too.

Visiting Sir John Soane's House and Museum with Llew:

    We got off at Holborn and walked just a few minutes to Lincoln's Inn Field to find the entrance to Sir John Soane's Museum. I, of course, had visited the place only a few days ago as it is simply one of my favorite museums in London. We checked in our bag and began our tour of this incredible space that is filled with thousands of architectural fragments from around the world. Llew did not know what to expect and was indeed struck by everything he saw--from the countless objects that decorated Soane's living quarters in a home he shared with his wife (living Room, library, dining room, kitchen) to the collection areas that were chockful of pedestals, statues, mantles, columns, etc. We skirted all these areas before moving to the upper floor where we took in the current exhibition of Soane's own architectural drawings and paintings as well as the models he collected for several well-known London landmarks. Overall, as always, it was a fascinating experience and Llew enjoyed it enormously.

Tubing it to the Sky Garden:

    With an hour to spare and with the rain quickening, we disappeared down the Tube at Holborn to get off at Bank where we found ourselves in the heart of London's old financial hub, know as the City. I pointed out to Llew one of Soane's architectural Masterpieces, the Bank of England. We walked quickly towards the building that is known as the Walkie-Talkie. Right at the top is the Sky Garden, a viewing platform that is fairly new (it was not in existence when I had lived in London). Tickets are available online and they are free--this makes it an exceedingly popular spot, especially for young folks, who think of it as very romantic to click pictures of themselves as they gaze, eye to eye, at the Gherkin or The Shard.

    Of course, we took a bunch of pictures too and then sat down for ages on one of the full-length chaise longes that allowed us to stretch our aching leg muscles as we had been walking for what seemed like forever.  Because the rain refused to stop, we did not get very good pictures...but we did see the Tower of London, Tower Bridge, St. Paul's Cathedral, etc. not to mention the skyscrapers of Canary Wharf, the press district that moved from Fleet Street to this spot when journalism was taken over by technology.

    Eventually, with nearly a whole two hours spent gazing at London from a height, we made our way back down to the Tube and arrived back at Paddington.   

  Looking for Dinner on Edgeware Road:

             Our host Bande had told us that Edgeware Road had a whole bunch of ethnic restaurants that we would like and so we walked to Edgeware Road after alighting from the Tube. However, as Llew has gone largely vegetarian now, we could not really find anything appealing in the Lebanese and Iranian restaurants that we passed. Instead, after a bit of debate, we actually decided to go to McDonald's so that Llew could get a veg burger. I chose a fillet o fish burgers and with a side salad, we were happy to have a balanced meal.

    Dead tired by this point, all that was left was to walk back to our friend's apartment, the Devonport, and get to bed. He, however, had a friend visiting and asked us to join in the socializing, When my eyes were just closing, he got up to leave and we got ourselves organized for bed and the heavy day ahead on the morrow.

    Until tomorrow, cheerio...   

Arrival of Llew in London, Bus Ride to See the Sights, A Restful Afternoon and Evening with Sports and Music on the Telly

 Arrival of Llew in London, Bus Ride to See the Sights, Walk in Chelsea and Fulham, Restful Afternoon and Evening with Sports and Music on the Telly

London

Saturday, May 14, 2022

    Ah! The day finally dawned when I would see Llew again after five and a half months!! It was also the day I would be checking out of this hotel, the Premier Inn, where I was incredibly comfortable, and moving on to Paddington to the home of our friend Bande. I awoke at 5.00 am and spent a while blogging before I decided to get going. I had a shower, packed up most of my belongings and went down to breakfast for my last humongous buffet feast. From now on, it will be muesli with yogurt and decaff coffee--the kind of breakfast I eat at home daily. I made the most of my large offerings and started with a croissant with butter and orange marmalade, then moved on to my last full English breakfast and ended with fruit and yogurt--all washed down with a decaff coffee. Indeed, I had eaten well and have probably piled on the pounds. But with all the miles of walking I have done all day, I have no regrets.

    Back in my room, I threw in the last bits of my belongings into my case, asked for a hotel receipt and went down to the lobby. There I called for an Uber to get me to Paddington where Llew, who had texted me upon landing, let me know that he was on the Heathrow Express headed for Paddington. My Uber driver arrived just 8 minutes later and I was off and away in no time.

    Much against my expectations, Llew arrived at our friend's flat in Paddington about ten minutes before I did. It was a lovely reunion with him in the company of our friend Bande and some of his friends who happened to be at his flat too. All of them would be leaving and going out very shortly  and we would be left to our own devices. He showed us how the house keys worked, gave us a quick look around the kitchen so that we could help ourselves to anything we needed, we had another little tour of his flat and he was off. Llew assured me that he was neither sleepy nor tired and that we should, in fact, get out immediately and enjoy the beautiful day. In fact, it was such a glorious day that I could not help thinking how lucky Llew was.

Getting Oyster Cards Topped Up:

    With no real plans on our agenda today (I had wanted to give Llew a chance to ease into his new time zone in London and get over jetlag with a good long rest), we simply decided to walk down to Paddington Station and top up our Oyster cards. My unlimited week-long Travelcard had expired and Llew had no money on his card. We did a top up and discovered, to our horror, that the day pass cost 14.50 pounds! My Word! I remembered a time when I had paid 3.50 for it! But, of course, that was donkey's years ago...

    We took the Bakerloo Line and got off at Charing Cross.  From there, we took Bus 11 to do the See London route just so that Llew could orient himself to London and we could gradually get into our London time together.  All went well until we arrived towards the middle of the King's Road at Chelsea where we were so badly affected by roadworks and did not move even a few meters in half an hour. Frustrated, we hopped off near The Blue Bird and crossed to get over toward Fulham. Once there, because it was such a great day, we simply walked along the Fulham Road all the way to Bibendum at the Michelin Headquarters. I love that building with its lavish ceramic decor in the Art Deco style. Its lovely pastel green is also a treat for the eye. Just a few feet ahead of us, we began walking along Brompton Road. I expected to pass the main gate to Brompton Cemetery but instead, just ahead of us was Brompton Oratory and I knew at once that we were next door to the Victoria and Albert Museum.

Lunch at the V&A:

    Llew had started to feel peckish by this time and I suggested we get to our favorite set of cafes in the V&A Museum--the Poynter, Gamble and Morris Rooms. Llew thought it was a great idea and, in a few minutes, we were at the counter. We chose a Middle Eastern Mezze wrap which was served with two salads--a Cucumber and Tomato Salad and a wonderful coleslaw.  This was more than enough for the two of us and we enjoyed it thoroughly as it was just delicious. 

Looking at a Few More Highlights at the V&A:

    As I did not have the time to show Amy a few of my highlights, the other day, I told Llew that I really did want to go and see some of my favorite items. And so, we did actually find The Age of Innocence by Alfred Drury which is a depiction of his friend's daughter, Gracie Doncaster. I also took him to the South Asian section to look at the finger ring and the wine cup in carved jade that belonged to Moghul Emperor Shah Jehan and the most famous item in the entire museum, Tipu's Tiger. This item which is almost a life-size replica of a tiger mauling a British soldier is actually a music box. When wound up, the tiger roars and the soldier screams in agony. This drama was said to be of great amusement to Tipu Sultan who had ordered the item to be especially made  for him. Because he was also known as the Tiger of Mysore, this item was doubly significant to him. How it came into the possession of the V&A is probably a result of his defeat at the Battle of Seringapatnam. Stripped of his stature and his belongings, he probably did not even know his Tiger had reached British shores.

    Next, Llew and I went in search of the incredible Ceramic Staircase that never fails to take my breath away as I am a huge fan of Ceramics. When we did find it, just behind the Buddhist Sculpture section, I simply could not stop taking pictures. Every bit of this staircase that winds to the top floor is made of ceramics. The project also includes a memorial to Henry Cole, the first Director of the Museum, who died in 1882. He had hoped to see such lavish decoration all over the museum--but, sadly, financial support ran out and this masterpiece is restricted to just one section of the museum. The entire project was executed by the Minton Pottery Company in Stoke-on-Trent. The vignettes represent Science, the Arts and a number of other disciplines. It is certainly, to my mind, a part of the museum that no one should miss and I was sorry we did not cover it when Amy took my highlights' tour.

    As we walked back, we stopped at the Cast Court to examine Michelangelo's and Donatello's Davids at closer quarters. Of course, Llew recognized the genius of Dale Chihuly immediately in the central chandelier in the lobby as we are both fans of Chihuly (as is Chriselle).

Getting Back Home for a Rest:       

    It was a sheer coincidence that Llew arrived in London on the day of the FA Finals when Chelsea Football Club (his team) were playing against Liverpool at Wembley at 4.45 pm. He had already warmed me that he hoped to get a nap before the match began because he just did not want to miss it.

    So we walked back to Gloucester Road Tube station, past the Museum of Natural History and the number of people thronging the streets and took the Circle Line back to Paddington. Back at our friends' place, we got our stuff organized in his spare room and as Llew went off for a nap, I communicated with a few friends and blogged. Both Llew and I took naps and felt deeply refreshed.

Watching the FA Cup Finals and Eurovision:

    Of course, at 4.45 pm on schedule, we sat down to watch the FA Cup Finals. I made us a cup of ginger and honey tea each which we ate with chocolate eclairs from Marks and their lovely Belgian Chocolate and Hazelnut Cookies and it felt great to finally have tea-time again! Somewhat disappointingly, the match went into the Penalty shoot out and with a huge number of very tense moments, Liverpool won! Poor Llew! Not too long after, I  switched to the Eurovision contest that was being televised from Turin in Italy. I was excited that after having heard about it for decades, this was the first time ever that I would actually be in England and could catch it as the rest of the country did. Sam Rider, Britain;s contestant, did well for a long time when it came to the scoring; but, as my friend Barbara rightly predicted, Ukraine did win it--in a massive show of public support. 

 Dinner In Paddington:

    Llew's lack of sleep on the red eye flight meant that he spent a good part of the afternoon catching up on some shut-eye. I was delighted to find Gavin and Stacey, one of my favorite British sitcoms on the Gold Channel--and I did dip into it quite excitedly! But by 8.45 pm, I woke Llew up so that we could both go out and get a bite to eat.

    Fountains Abbey Pub was just a block from our building and I looked forward to a Guinness and he a glass of Cab! But it was not to be as we discovered, to our disappointment, that they pub has not begun serving food yet. There went the thoughts of our pub grub!  

    Not daunted, we walked a few meters ahead and found a very modest, very nondescript eatery called La Tazza Restaurant. A brief glance at the menu outside told us we'd find something sustaining inside. Llew found his glass of Cab, but since the stout was not on tap, I preferred to avoid a canned drink. We ended up eating a Big Greek Salad (a la Elaine in Seinfeld) with mozzarella, cherry tomatoes, cucumbers and olives and a really marvelously creamy and super scrumps Penne a la Pesto with gigantic mushrooms. Best of all was the long, non-stop chatter between us as we had so much to say to each other, so much news to convey, so many plans to make for the future. It is simply marvelous how good it is to be together again after almost 6 months.

    And then, well sated with a superb meal, we walked the block back to our building. Our friend Bande had returned home and we spent some time gabbing with him as we enjoyed a bowl of vanilla ice-cream together. And then it was time to say Good night. We are looking forward to the days ahead of us as we have plans to spend a day at Crystal Palace Park with friends, take a sailboat to the Isle of Wight for lunch with a new friend, spend two days exploring Liverpool and then returning to move on to Oxford and the Cotswolds. What a great time we expect!

    Until tomorrow, Cheerio! 

Academic Research on a More Restful Day in London--Walking Tour of Holborn, Clerkenwell and Farringdon

Academic Research on a More Restful Day in London Plus Walking Tour of Holborn, Clerkenwell and Farringdon

London

Friday, May 13, 2022

    Can't believe how much I am cramming into each new day--and today was no exception.  With Amy gone to join her friends' birthday bash, I woke up alone in my hotel room at a little past 6.00 am and reveled at all the possibilities that another day in London offered. After the hectic cantering of the last couple of days, I was ready for something far quieter. 

    So after a quick shower and washing my clothes, I went down for breakfast to Thyme Restaurant and enjoyed a warm croissant with butter and orange marmalade, another one of those legendary FEBs (Full English Brekkies), fruit with yogurt and a hot chocolate. It's no wonder I cannot think abut food until 4.00 pm daily! Back in my room, I got my bag ready to spend the entire morning at the British Library. But first I made a stop at my former digs at High Holborn where I met my former concierge and friend Arben whom, I was happy to say, is still there. He told me he had no plans of retiring or leaving! 

    I am glad to see that some things in London had remained the same since the last time I was here because goodness knows there are several things that have changed: the 25 bus no longer plies outside my former building; Sainsbury has discontinued their glorious Three Fruits Marmalade (at least it is no longer available at the large Sainsburys supermarket in Holborn and I am being told to try at Islington); Dove has discontinued its gorgeous Silk Glow Body wash with its enchanting French perfume and replaced it with something called Nourishing Silk (fragrance is similar but not the same and purists like me are ranting online); Rimmel has discontinued its Topless shade of nail polish--so half the items on my To Buy List are fast disappearing!!! I am heart-broken, of course...but oh well, what can you do, right?

At the British Library:

    Right after seeing Arben, I took the bus along Gray's Inn Road to the British Library and spent the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon there. It was a truly gorgeous spring day and, to be honest, I felt sorry to be spending it stuck with books indoors. But hey, I've had some really amazing days so I can hardly complain...

    The hours passed in deep productivity as I made my notes and felt inspired by the other scholars who work really hard getting their research accomplished. Their academic energy fired me up on a day when I'd rather be outside. Still, being here after such a long time I do feel that it would be a shame not to make the most of every precious moment surrounded by all these amazing resources. So I gladly returned to the salt mines...

Visiting an Old Friend:

    I stayed at the British Library until the late afternoon and only returned to my hotel room to do some packing as I will be checking out tomorrow morning. Llew will be arriving here early tomorrow morning and I cannot wait to see him again--not to mention do all the things we have planned to do together. But before that happens, I have to get my notes organized. So I did some of my packing and remembered I wanted to see a friend who lives just one block away on Theobald's Road. I took a real chance and gave him a call and was pleasantly surprised to find that he was happy and willing to see me. I say surprised because my friend Sushil has had a major change in his life since the last time I saw him--which was about six years ago. Since that time, he had a major heart operation which was either botched up or caused a major complication that led to his leg being amputated above his knee. Three years ago, when I last was in London and tried to re-connect with him, he was reluctant to see me. I guess he had to get accustomed to the fact that he was no longer mobile without prosthetics or a wheel chair. This time he appeared more open to a meeting. 

    I was at his place in two minutes, so since I am moving to Paddington tomorrow, I would not have forgiven myself if I had not made the effort to meet him. As it turned out, I found him doing well if a bit inactive. I was at his place at 7.00 pm on the dot and spent the next hour with him. We chatted about everything--people we knew in London, people we know who are not in London anymore, the tenor of his days (very quiet, very inactive, no socialization or interaction at all). I was more and more amazed, as time passed,  that he actually made an exception to see me because he simply does not see anyone anymore. Was I sorry for him? Yes and No. Sad, because his life has changed so drastically. He has a cleaner who comes in twice a month, orders all groceries online, has practically stopped cooking altogether (he used to be a really good cook), never sees any friends or keeps up with anyone, does not use social media or even email at all. He told me not to feel offended if I do not hear from him because he simply isn't the same person he used to be. But I am also happy to see that he has surrounded himself with those things he likes (his laptop, his TV set, his music). He used to play the double bass with a jazz group, but, of course, that has come to an end. He smiled often, I have to say, which made me feel good. There was a time when he and I used to cross the English Chanel regularly to get to Calais on what used to be called the Booze Cruise. Wine was so much cheaper on the Continent that the English used to drive across, fill the booths of their cars with as many crates of wine as it would hold and sip in style for the next 3-6 months! I had accompanied him on these trips. We had wonderful long chats en route, would pick up the wine from Auchan on the other side of the Chanel, get ourselves a really nice steak-frites lunch and then drive back to London! So, there you have it. I was surrounded by my happy memories of his little flat in Holborn while he seemed to have wiped all such memories from his mind!

A Long Walking Tour of Holborn, Clerkenwell and Farringdon:

    With daylight still very much in evidence, I decided to take myself for a long walk--after all, I had spent a good part of the day chained to a desk! 

The Italian Catholic Church of St. Peter at Farringdon:

    So off I went along Theobald's Road, past Gray's Inn and on to Clerkenwell Road. I decided to go in search of St. John's Gate in Farringdon, but along the way I passed by a church that I did not even know existed--the Italian Catholic Church of St. Peter--that seems to cater to the Italian population of London. Of course, I have never met a church I could resist entering and so in I went. I was stunned. It is a highly decorated church, in the Italian Baroque vein, with a gorgeous painted altar and every manner of arresting decoration. As it turned out, Holy Hour was going on and the Blessed Sacrament was exposed. I had arrived just in time for the priest to emerge and conduct the Divine Praises--all in Italian, of course. He then brought the Blessed Sacrament down to each and every member of the congregation--including myself. I was just delighted to have caught this aspect of Catholic worship purely by chance. At the end of the service, which was just fifteen minutes later, everyone piled right out and went on with their day. It was past 8.00 pm by this time and I was surprised that a church was even open. This is what aimless walking in London does to you--it makes you aware of places you did not even know existed even though you have lived in its own backyard!

Jerusalem Tavern and St. John's Square:

    Move on I did then, on to the bridge that crosses the Tube lines below at Farringdon. I found St. John's Square quickly enough, past Britten Street which used to be the street I used to take to get back to my apartment at Denmark House on Cowcross Lane. On this lane is the Jerusalem Tavern, a very old and very historic pub that seems to date back to the time of the setting up of the Knights of St. John. But it seemed to have closed (at least for the moment). It would be heartbreaking if it had become another victim of Covid.  That said, at every turn and at every pub, people were out laughing, talking, drinking for it was Friday evening and this is how the average Londoner begins the weekend.        

    I found the Museum of St. John in St. John's Square in Farringdon and made my way right up to its gates to catch a glimpse of its hidden garden at the back. Of course, everything was closed up and but for a lone man sitting and enjoying a few moments of solitary quietude in the front yard, the place was deserted.

    I took a few pictures and left to walk towards St. John's Gate--a gate I would deliberately go under in order to simply feel the high of using a gate and a building that goes back to the 11th century. The wonderful Museum of St John, free to the public, that I had visited long years ago, is still open to the public from Wednesdays to Sunday and I do remember being completely taken by the medieval halls within. Of course, when you are entrusted with the task of care-taking a property that has stood on the same site for over a thousand years, you end up constantly renovating, strengthening or refurbishing a part of it and that indeed was what was happening. The end result is that you rarely get really nice photographs; but I did the best I could to keep away the ugly cranes and other construction paraphenalia.

Around Smithfield Meat Market:

    Under the gate I went to emerge on the other side, close to Charterhouse. As I had passed by Charterhouse, a week ago, I did not spend time there. Instead, I walked to the back of Cowcross Lane to take a picture of my former building, then crossed the street towards the famous St. John's Bar and Restaurant where the chef Stuart Henderson made a huge name for himself in his concept of Nose to Tail Eating. I went right past the eatery and came directly in front of the Smithfield Meat Market which I crossed to get to the Square on the opposite side. At this point, I walked up Cloth Fair which used to be the site of a famous annual fair in the Elizabethan Age. It gave its name to the play by Ben Jonson--Bartholomew Fair. The reason is that the neighboring church is named after St. Bartholomew and is one of the oldest churches in London--it dates back to the 900s. Of course, the church was closed but I have visited it very often and attended Mass here too--so I was not sorry to find it closed. I did take some pictures, however, while I still had the light. 

    Right outside the main gate of the church which still stands from the Medieval Age, there was a large sign announcing that Scottish hero William Wallace (he of Braveheart fame) had been tortured and killed at this spot. Just a few steps away was the entrance to one of the oldest hospitals in London--St. Bartholomew Hospital aka St. Bart's. This hospital also has one of the most fascinating museums-- it is little-known for sure but oh boy, what an experience it was! I remember my mind being blown by it. In fact, it is interesting to remember that this entire area is stepped in the history of medicine in London. The Knights of St. John, more than a thousand years ago, had begun their mission providing physical succor to pilgrims that were on their way or back from the Holy Land. The monks from nearby St. Bartholomew's Church also provided medical help through the use of natural substances such as herbs, roots and spices.  They founded one of the earliest hospitals in London and received the patronage and a license from Henry VIII to start one. The charter that enabled them to open such a hospital is seen in the adjoining museum. I found it simply heartening that these parts of London have remained largely unchanged although modernity is fast sweeping over them. The neighboring Smithfield Meat Market, St. Bart's Church and St Bart's Hospital make this one of the most richly historic parts of London and yet so few tourists  know anything about it or arrive here to take in its atmosphere. 

The Old Bailey and Holborn Viaduct:

    Leaving Charterhouse Square, I took one of the side streets and arrived in front of the Old Bailey, Crowds had gathered around the old Viaduct Tavern which has the most beautiful painted mirrors inside. I took pictures of the Old Bailey which is the City Civil Court. The public is allowed in any of its court rooms and can be present at any of the cases being heard. As this court too is highly historic, I had made sure I attended one of the legal sessions here. The building is made distinctive by the statue of the blind Goddess of Justice who holds the scales of justice in her hand--the dispensing of justice must be tempered by mercy! In fact, it's interesting that the church which stands diagonally on the other side, the Church of St. Sepulchre, which has also stood on this site since before the Great Fire of London (1666), is referred to in the famous poem "Oranges and Lemons" as "the Bells of Old Bailey"! Amazing how history, literature, poetry and cultural studies blend in so effortlessly when it comes to the City of London.

I then walked right on High Holborn towards the Church of St. Andrew Holborn, another Wren church, but to access it I had to walk on the Holborn Viaduct. This is another Victorian bridge that was built to enable water to flow into the city immediately below it through the course of the River Fleet. I am not sure how this feat of engineering was supposed to work or what sort of benefits it brought to the city, but the bridge is a beautiful work of art in and of itself. When I lived in Holborn, all those years ago, it had been under scaffolding and I never really got to see the finished product. I can tell you that it is simply stunning. There are sculptural statues on both sides, mythical winged lions flanking the ends and, for the first time, I noticed fragments of four buildings on four sides that seem to date from a time much older than the Victorians. I was indeed quite astonished by these many new discoveries, as it were.

    By the time I arrived at the junction of High Holborn with Charterhouse Street, light had already disappeared. I took in the sculptural equestrian sculpture of a bronzed Prince Albert and walked straight ahead towards the distinctive War Memorial that honors the dead of the two World Wars. It was designed by Sir Edwin Lutyens who designed the capital city of New Delhi as well as Rhodes House in Oxford which I had pointed out to Amy, just a few years ago.

          Yes, I passed by my former building once again as darkness fell swiftly over the city. It was well past 9.15 pm when I made a right at Red Lion Square to return to my hotel .

    I was hungry and ate an almond croissant that I had bought from Waitrose in the morning and a roasted hazelnut yoghurt--my favorite flavor. I spent at least an hour doing most of my packing and when I was well and truly wiped out, I turned out the light and fell asleep.

    Until tomorrow (moving day for me and the day of Llew's arrival), cheerio...       

    

Much About Museums: the Victoria and Albert Museum, Sir John Soane's House Museum--Lunch with Colleague And Haircut in Chelsea

Much About Museums: the Victoria and Albert Museum, Sir John Soane's House Museum--Lunch with Colleague And Haircut in Chelsea

London

Thursday, May 12, 2022

    Today I took a break from the hectic activity of the last couple of days. Both Amy and I had a well-deserved lie-in. I managed to wake up at 7.30, but I have to say that it was difficult. Although I might not have been asleep, I'd have appreciated the opportunity to loll around a bit more. But brekkie beckoned--and so down I went to enjoy another Full English brekkie. And no, I have not yet become jaded by these incredible breakfast buffets with their overwhelming choices. I stuck to croissants with butter and orange marmalade, then moved on to a subdued version of a full and ended with fruit and a strawberry yogurt as I am trying to get in some calcium daily!  

    When I returned to our room, Amy was almost ready to roll--so off we went. She wanted me to give her the Rochelle's Highlights of the Victoria and Albert Museum--so off I trotted with her, past Red Lion Square to Holborn Tube station,. We realized it would be fastest to take the Piccadilly line to South Kensington and walk along the underground passage there that connects directly with Museum Mile. However, as it turned out South Ken station is closed for the spring. Left with no choice, we got off a station later, at Gloucester Road, and simply walked along Cromwell Road from there, past the towering steeples of the Museum of Natural History (Prince Albert's great architectural contribution to the city) and arrived at the Victoria and Albert Museum which might be one of my favorite museums in the whole world. As a receptacle of global decorative arts, it has no comparison with any other place. I have spent countless hours studying its collection and I never leave London without wandering through its endless mileage of fascinating galleries to say hello to my favorite items.

Perusing my Highlights of the V&A with Amy:

        Of course, once we entered the lobby of the museum, just past 10.00 am, I had to point out the Dale Chihuly chandelier that dominates the dome. I also pointed out the place from where he took his inspiration--the original Victorian stained glass on the bow window at the very front--a favorite combination, in its soft yellow, blue and lime green shades, of Prince Albert himself.

    Next, we made a left to see the sculpture of 'Samson Slaying a Phillistine' by Giambologna, which is one of the museum's highlights. Awesome in its power and fluidity of movement.   

    Next, we moved to the Asian section and made our way to the Ardabil Carpet which is one of the largest in the world. Made in Kashan in Persia, it boasts 304 knots per square inch. It is lit up for ten minutes every hour and on the half hour, but we did not get a chance to see its wool knotted detail.

    Next stop: The Raphael Cartoons Gallery to find out about Raphael's connection with Pope Leo X and the Sistine Chapel which led to the creation of a series of cartoons (large paintings) by Raphael for Leo's private house of worship (the Sistine Chapel). These cartoons depict the lives of Saints Peter and Paul (with Jesus, of course, being a primary figure in them). The cartoons were then sent on to a manufacturer of tapestries (almost invariably in Gobelin in Belgium). They would use the cartoons as a guide to begin the weaving process which would then take shape as a mirror image.  The finished tapestries adorn one of the galleries of the Vatican Museum and I have seen them there. However, the original Raphael cartoons were lost until the year 1623 when they were recovered and brought to England. From what I remember, the cartoons are the personal possessions of the Queen who has loaned them indefinitely to the V&A where the special gallery in which they are located makes the perfect place for their display. Of the seven cartoons on display only one is represented with its accompanying tapestry--the Miracle of the Fishes. To know and understand what is happening in this gallery is to immerse oneself directly in the complicated politics of the Renaissance in Italy and to marvel at the way these works have survived and are valued as rare works of art today.

    We then moved on to the British Galleries to see the Great Bed of Ware, probably the largest bed in the world (It can easily accommodate five and members of a family often bedded down together for warmth). A relic of Elizabethan England, this gigantic bed, intricately carved with a stunning headboard and wonderful silk (replicated) hangings to keep off draughts and afford privacy, is a breathtaking work of functional artistry. Shakespeare mentions this bed in his Twelfth Night as his contemporary audiences would have been very familiar with it. It was placed originally in an inn in Hertfordshire in 1596. 

  We moved on to see a sculpture of the composer Handel by Louis Francois Roubillac--an important work that brought us down to the Sculpture Garden. As works move chronologically in this huge space from the ancient to the modern world, we found ourselves at the modern end surrounded by works by Auguste Rodin such as John The Baptist Preaching, The Kiss, etc. We admired Antonio Canova's Theseus Slaying the Minotaur and his exquisite Three Graces before we moved to the far end to climb up the stairs to get to the Jewelry Gallery. Sadly we could not find my favorite little sculpture in the museum--The Age of Innocence by Alfred Drury that portrays Gracie Doncaster, the daughter of one of Drury's friends. And when we asked the guard for help, he was blank! I sometimes wonder at the poor quality of guards that are now in these museums--there was a time when a guard could tell you anything and everything you wanted to know about the museum including the location of every piece and its provenance!

    However, I had forgotten that Amy was still on an empty stomach and since she was hungry, I took her to the finest museums cafes in the whole wide world, barring none--the Proctor, Gamble and Morris Rooms. These large rooms that overlook the beautiful fountain-courtyard of the museum often afforded me the opportunity to rest my feet, grab a sandwich and a hot chocolate in its hallowed surroundings and contemplate the greatness of the artists whose works immortalize them. Here, and on this occasion, Amy picked up a raisin scone with clotted cream and strawberry jam and a large coffee and sat munching it while I used the restroom.

    When she was done, when we had feasted our eyes adequately on the astounding detail of the main room with its ceramic columns, its massive globular chandeliers, its marble fireplace and its stained glass windows that cast softly jeweled shadows over our food, we left. Seriously, no cafe in the world will ever measure up to these on magnificence: one of them is filled with mosaic tiles and another (the Morris Room) is covered with the fabric and textile designs of William Morris of the Arts and Crafts School fo Design with their emphasis on fruit and flowers. 

     Our next port of call was the vast Cast Courts in which plaster casts of some of the finest sculpture in the world stand. They were used as teaching devices in the many arts and crafts schools that dotted the city in the late 19th century or as a way to educate the less-endowed museum-goers of the 19th century on the treasures of the world that lay beyond their pockets or their perusal. And so, in just two humongous rooms you can see ancient sculpture (Trajan's Column from Rome, for instance) to the wonders of the Renaissance: Michelangelo's David from the Academia in Florence and Donatello's David from the Bargello Museum in Florence.  There are facades from the Cathedral at Chartres in France as well as the Gates of Paradise by Ghiberti that are on the front of the gates of the Duomo in Florence. For good measure, there is a reproduced painting on the wall by Raphael entitled The School of Athens which is also in the Vatican Museum. Every one of these works functioned as a teaching tool for budding sculptors keen to learn the lessons of carving human anatomy.

    Next, we saw the amazing Jewelry Galleries which are quite simply my favorite galleries in the V&A.  God knows how many hours I have spent in contemplation of the wealth, artistry and craftsmanship displayed in these cases--from the 18th century Chatelaine (my favorite jewelery piece in the museum) to the clutch of exquisite works by Rene Lalique that feature his signature Art Nouveau style and the vast collection of finger rings. Indeed, there are truly precious stones such as diamonds, rubies, emeralds and sapphires as large as hen's eggs (as I have written in my book The Year The World Was Mine) and, for the first time, two lovely little coronets in diamonds and sapphires that were designed specially for Queen Victoria. Amy fell in love with the tiaras and said she would gladly have one of them! Overwhelmed by two whole levels of staggeringly beautiful jewelery, we had to leave as time was of the essence.

    And on to the upper balcony we went to see the Hereford Screen that was designed by George Gilbert Scott--yes, the same man who designed Exeter College Chapel in Oxford. The screen is stupendous and quite spectacular indeed, but its location offers the perfect point from which to take a look at Chihuly's chandelier again and note the manner in which it was inspired by the original soft colors of the museum's stained glass windows.

    Sadly, this was all I could cover. I would have loved to have shown Amy Tipu's Tiger in the South Asian section--the single, most popular item in the museum. It is a life-size music box that was commissioned by Tipu Sultan of Mysore to depict an English soldier being killed by a tiger. As Tipu was known as the Tiger of Mysore, this piece was of special affection to him. I also love the Jeringham Wine Cooler, the largest wine cooler in the world. Also, the twin lions in sterling, the originals of which I have seen in the royal palace in Copenhagen, would also be a splendid inclusion, not to mention all the great work by John Constable whose entire oeuvre was bequeathed to the museum. I have brought my students here in the past to show them Constable's innumerable sketch pads before taking them to the River Stour itself in Suffolk to see Flatford Mill which has been depicted in his most iconic painting The Haywain. And then, of course, I have actually taken them to the National Gallery to look upon the final masterpiece that Constable so marvelously created.  But I suppose we have to leave somethings for another day. 

    We then took a bus down Cromwell Road, past the Brompton Oratory to arrive past Harrod's. We then walked through Harrod's, of course, although we did not stop. Amy was amazed at how empty it was, but she forgot to account for the slap in the face that Covid has rendered to the global economy, plus the fact that it was a week day morning and not a 'sale' time! We took the Tube from Knightsbridge and sailed off to Holborn on the Piccadilly line where we both got off and bid each other goodbye. Amy returned to our hotel to pick up her bag and go off to Mayfair to meet her friends and to spend time with them for the next three days. I was so sorry to see her go, but we'd had the most incredible time and indeed although both of us love London enough to gladly stay here forever, we were grateful for the opportunity that threw us together and enabled us to get some food for thought and appreciation during our time together.

Lunch with an Academic Colleague at Aldwych:   

    After I bid Amy goodbye, I walked briskly along Kingsway for it had turned out to be the perfect spring afternoon. I was headed to the Delaunay Cafe which was the choice of my former colleague Marion who is now a Dean at King's College in London. She had made plans to meet me for lunch at 12. 30 and I was there just a few minutes ahead of schedule. It turned out to be just besides the Waldorf at busy Aldwych, but a more convenient spot could hardly be found.

   When Marion arrived, we had a very affectionate reunion as she is someone of whom I am very fond.We had offices next door to each other when she worked in New York and I would often see her stride purposefully down the hallways as she hurried off to classes or meetings. We had so much to talk about even before we ordered--but order we did: Marion chose a quiche with mushrooms while I chose an Alsace with bacon and onions. I noticed that it was hardly a quiche--rather a very thin-crust pizza with toppings. We also ordered an Heirloom Tomato Salad which was absolutely delicious--those tomatoes are so flavorful and go perfectly with basil and olives in a very mild dressing. 

    Of course, we chatted about our current work and research projects, our homes, family life, future projected plans and the like. Marion is doing something unbelievably interesting--she has founded a whole new discipline that she is calling Attention Studies. It is a way of measuring the impact of electronic devices upon our attention spans. In a deeply interdisciplinary area of studies, she intends to include psychology and the social sciences as she foresees the impact of hand held devices to only grow with the passing of time. As Director of a new Center for Attention Studies, she hopes to hire new faculty and create a syllabus of courses that will follow this new line of inquiry.  I found her ideas fascinating and deeply clairvoyant of where we are headed as a global society. Marion also listened to the kind of work I have been pursuing and was immediate in her suggestion that I join her team of interdisciplinary scholars to asses and grade the undergraduate dissertations of her students at King's. I told her that I would be honored to do so. Let us hope that it does become a concrete and on-going project.   

    It was not long before Marion simply had to take my leave as she had meetings to attend. We had been gabbing for more than an hour and a half and while it was more than just chatter, we put down some worthwhile plans for future collaboration, In fact, Marion has plans to create relationships between King's and India and will definitely be back in touch with me, should they solidify.

Off to Sir John Soanes' Museum:

    Since I was in the vicinity, I decided to pay a re-visit to one of my favorite places in London--Sir John Soane's Museum. So I passed by the London School of Economics and crossed the large square that is Lincoln Inn Field and arrived at the museum. I went through the formalities of entry and found myself in the incredible space that this awesome man created and which is now one of the lesser-known but no less loved spaces in the city.

    So, here's a word about John Soane. A Victorian architect by training, he is responsible for some of the most iconic buildings in the city. Among my own favorites are the Dulwich Picture Gallery, the Church of St. John at Bethnal Green and the famous Bank of England, aka the Old Lady of Threadneedle Lane. Early in his career, Soane formed a firm friendship with the painter John Gandhy who partnered with him to create architectural drawings of his home at Lincoln's Inn Field. As Soane grew more renowned in his career, architectural fragments became his obsession and he collected every single scrap on which he could lay his hands. In fact, he instructed every contractor and general city planner involved in any type of construction activity in England to cart off all their structural remnants to him. Thus, he collected every possible column, pedestal, mantlepiece, decorative object, etc. that he could find. When he ran out of space for his collection in his own home, he bought the house next door and when that became too crammed, he bought the house on the other side. And yet, every available square inch of space has been grabbed to accommodate his vast (and I mean massive) collection of architectural fragments from ancient times through to the Gothic and Victorian periods. There are fragments of stone columns from outside Rome (eg, the Tivoli Gardens), others from the Far East. While he seems not to have discriminated at all, there is certainly a method to his madness and signs of his prolific passion are everywhere. 

    What's more, Soane was also a collector of painting and he has a wonderful series of paintings by Hogarth called The Rake's Progress which is concealed in specially designed vaults that open up as if in layers to the absolute wonder of visitors. I have seen these layers on many occasions. Today, the guard opened just one of them after restricting the crowd to no more than eight people. It was indeed as marvelous an experience as I expected because all the furniture and fitments are original to the house and every single one of them is exactly in the same place as they were in the time when Soane lived in the house with his beloved wife whom he loved with a passion and was utterly destroyed when she died. I cannot urge visitors to London enough to go and see this space and I still cannot believe that when I lived in London my home was just a hop, skip and jump away from so many of these amazing treasures.  

Off to the British Library:

    It was time then for me to take a bus and go directly to the British Library so that I could continue perusing some of the material for which I had called.  For the next two hours, I continued my perusal of documents and contemporary magazines that provide accounts of the travels of traveling actors ("players") who, during the last quarter of the 19th century and into the first quarter of the 20th plied the high seas going from one colony to the next with their productions. Indeed, this practice continued all the way to the 1940s and it is fascinating to me to discover which productions they chose, who their audience was and how successful they were as commercial companies during this time.

Headed for a Haircut:

    As I badly needed a haircut and decided to get one in London, I turned to my friend Cynthia who recommended a place called Greema's Beauty Salon at 496 King's Road just past Chelsea and into World's End. I took a bus and gave myself a whole hour to reach the place and then had the misfortune of having all three possible things happen to my No. 15 bus: it stopped for 10 minutes to ease traffic congestion; it stopped for 15 minutes for a change of drivers at Victoria; it became disabled and all passengers had to alight. This happened at Sloane Square. I then jumped into a 22 and off I went down the King's Road until I arrived at the spot. I was embarrassed to be late on my first appointment ever but the hair dresser was very sweet. Her name is Mahi and she is an Iranian from Tehran who has been cutting hair in London for the past ten years although she did it in Tehran for 12 years before then. I told her that my friend Cynthia had recommended her and she was delighted. For the next 40 minutes, she regaled me with chatter as she cut my hair very slowly. I told her that I wanted to go short but she asked me what my preferences were at every turn--which was quite wonderful.   

    When she was done and I had paid her 20 pounds plus a 15% tip, I thanked her profusely and left. I then hopped into a bus going back to Central London but stopped at Marks as I was hungry. On the King's Road, I picked up Belgian chocolate chunk and hazelnut cookies from Marks and then got back on the bus all the way back to my hotel. Needless to say, I ate my cookies on the bus!

Winner of the Platinum Pudding:

    Once I reached my hotel, all I wanted to do was put some of my papers, notes and files in order as I had done a great deal of note-taking in the library. This took far longer than I expected but I did also manage to do some blogging. I had the TV on and was delighted to find that the finalist of the Platinum Pudding was about to be announced. The contest had been headed by chief judge Mary Berry and was graced by the final presence of Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall. It turned out that one of the contestants was an Indian lady from Bombay who concocted a Falooda Cake. But the ultimate winner was someone who made a complicated Trifle using oranges and lemons. It looks spectacular but I bet it is extremely difficult to make. Although she will go down in history as someone who created a special pudding for the Queen, I am not too sure many people will actually make it.

    With that show, my day came to an end. I spoke to Llew and then to my Dad and brother and once I was sure everyone was well, I called it a day. It had been a more relaxed day but with Amy gone, my hotel suddenly seemed empty and I looked forward to seeing Llew again as he will be arriving very shortly.

    Until tomorrow, cheerio...     

    

 

  

   

    

Bloomsbury in Sussex--Visiting the Homes and Haunts of the Bloomsbury Group, Lewes and Rodmell.

Bloomsbury in Sussex--Visiting the Homes and Haunts of the Bloomsbury Group, Lewes and Rodmell.

Lewes and Rodmell, Sussex 

Wednesday, May 11, 2022

Getting Ready for a Long Journey:

    Amy and I set our alarms today as we had a long way to go and timed tickets for entry into our first port of call. We were headed to Sussex to experience a part of what is called 'Bloomsbury in Sussex'. This title derives from the fact that two of the most prominent members of the Bloomsbury Group--a posse of intellectual and creative people who congregated in each others' homes, in the early decades of the 20th century in Bloomsbury in London, rented homes in this part of the UK. Virginia Woolf, the novelist and writer, made her home at Monk's House, a small cottage in the village of Rodmell and her sister, Vanessa Bell rented a farm called Charleston Farmhouse in the larger town of Lewes, about a 25 minutes' car drive away. I had, of course, studied the works of the Bloomsbury Group as a college undergrad, but it was about 35 years ago that I taught one of Woolf's stories. It was set in Monk's House in Rodmell and I remember thinking then what utter fun it would be to actually visit the house. Well, I certainly had to wait half a lifetime... 

I awoke early, as usual, at about 5.30 am and lost no time getting a shower and eating breakfast downstairs in the Thyme restaurant. I had a croissant with butter and asked for a hot chocolate today. I did follow this up with a Full English breakfast in order to fuel myself for the rest of the day. In fact, I was down in the restaurant at 6.30 pm, exactly when it opened. I told Amy that she should get ready by 7.00 am so that we could leave on time to arrive  at Victoria Rail Station by 7.45 am. As it turned out, we were ahead of schedule, being there at 7.30 am. Amy got herself a croissant and a coffee while I headed to the Ticket Counter to buy us return tickets to Sussex. The tickets were pricey--37.50 pounds return for each of us! Wow! But this is not the place to which you go everyday--indeed, I have waited for what seems like a lifetime to get to Sussex on this literary excursion and I regretted not a bit of it.

    Our train headed to Ohre was scheduled to leave at 7.54 am. We were to get off at Lewes, our first stop. It took us a little over an hour to get there on the Southern Railway. As might be expected, we did chat for a bit but were soon lulled to sleep by the rhythmic movement of the carriage. Both of us awoke when we were already in Sussex as was evident from the vast expanses of green English countryside outside our window. There were sheep and cows and horses in pasture not to mention views of the Sussex hills that put us completely in the mood for our day in the country.

        When we arrived at Lewes, we headed straight for the taxi stand as, sadly, this is the only way to get to Charleston Farmhouse which was our first stop. There is no public transport, no buses of any kind to get there. Taxis are pricey, no doubt, which was why Amy and I were pleased to be together on this expensive excursion. We lucked out in finding a really well-informed taxi driver called Steve who turned out to be treasure trove of information about the Bloomsbury Group. He told us that he regularly drove one of the current members of the family from Lewes station to Charleston Farmhouse and that she often hired him to drive her from Lewes to her home in London.  He could not remember her name but Amy and I rather think it was Nerissa, one of the daughters of Angelica Garnett, a daughter of Vanessa by her brief relationship with the homosexual Duncan Grant. More about the complicated genealogy of this family later.

    The taxi ride took us about 20-25 minutes and we actually arrived at Charleston Farmhouse at 9.45 am. We had timed tickets for 10.00 am (20 pounds each) which made us two of the earliest entrants into the house today. I had deliberately bought tickets for early in the day as we needed to move on to Rodmell and I had no idea how far away all these spots were from one another. 

Arrival at Charleston Farmhouse:

    Vanessa Bell, daughter of Leslie Stevens, a Victorian philosopher who had a home in Bloomsbury, London, developed into an artist. She was the sister of the famous novelist, Virginia Stevens--later Virginia Woolf (following her marriage to diplomat-civil servant Leonard Woolf). Vanessa fell in love and married art critic, Clive Bell. When World War I broke out, as they were both conscientious objectors, they had to engage in some kind of productive activity (farming was one such) to avoid being sent to prison. Hence, they joined hands with the farmer who owned a large farm in Sussex called Charleston Farmhouse and found employment under him. During the war, they were fully engaged in farming as part of the war effort. After the war ended, having fallen in love with the country lifestyle, they rented Charleston Farmhouse and used it as a weekend retreat all year round. They also spent the entire summer for several years in this place and turned the house into their own personal studio. Apart from sitting at their canvases and painting all day, they poured their creativity into every inch of space surrounding them--walls, ceilings, floors, plus furniture (beds, tables, chairs, chest of drawers and cupboards)--all received the benefit of their creative attention as they decorated every available surface with their paints and palettes. As if this were not enough, they turned to pottery and created dozens of utilitarian objects (plates, mugs, even lamp-shades) in terracotta that they fired in a kiln at the back of their farm.  And when they were not painting, they were gardening--the garden designs also received the benefit of their sensitivity to color so that it is clearly evident that a pink-mauve-purple-white color palette was selected in all the plantings. 

    Vanessa and Clive had two children--a son named Julian who was killed at the age of 29 while serving as an ambulance driver in the Spanish Civil War in 1931 and another son named Quentin who survived them. When her relationship with Clive became rocky, Vanessa turned for solace to Duncan Grant, also a fellow-artist and a member of the Bloomsbury Group. He was a homosexual but the brief liaison he had with Vanessa led to the conception of their daughter Angelica. However, she was never told that Grant was her biological father and she reached the age of 18 before she became aware that Clive Bell was not her father. Later in her own life, she married the writer David Garnett who had, for a while been the homosexual lover of Duncan Grant. In other words, she married her father's sometime lover! With Garnett, Angelica had four children, one of whom was Nerissa (of whom the taxi-driver spoke). Vanessa's brief relationship with Grant caused a rift in her marriage to Clive Bell but as they moved so much in the same circles, they remained friends. In fact, Bell who had moved out of Charleston Farmhouse when Grant moved in, returned to live in it and claimed three rooms at the top of the house from which he continued to paint. Later, the threesome, still closely connected as friends, built a large studio (which we visited) where they would paint in unison. Grant painted a picture of Vanessa still painting in the same studio at Charleston at the age of 81, a year before she passed away. In their creative passion, these occupants of Charleston created murals, frescoes, countless oil paintings, ceramics, fabric designs, rugs, pottery, etc. They regularly invited their friends to join them for the weekend--so that the home saw occupancy by leading economists such as John Maynard-Keynes, the novelist E.M Forster, the historian Lytton Strachy, the artist Dora Carrington and the art critic Roger Fry. The home was always buzzing with  creative and intellectual energy. 

    Many of the members of the second and third generation, parented by Vanessa and Clive Bell, have become artists themselves, eg. Quentin. He was also keen on writing a biography of his Aunt Virginia Woolf and invited all members of the family who had ever corresponded with her to send him their letters written by her.  These he archived with care so that they became a fine chronological account of the tangled relationships of these folks who respected each other enormously and waltzed in and out of intimate relationships without losing their friendship. Quentin's archive soared in value as the works of the members of this group grew in stature and fame. The letters were sold to a collector and the proceeds were used to buy Charleston Farmhouse which is now retained in exactly the same way it was when the Bells (and later Duncan Grant) lived in it. 

    Walking through the rooms, that have a guide in each one, is to receive a whole education in the life, lifestyle and works of some of Britain's most famous early 20th century public figures. There are paintings everywhere--portraits of each other and self-portraits, plus all manner of functional items used in daily life. These are simply too numerous to name and I am glad that we were allowed to take pictures everywhere because the pictures I took will allow me to peruse them at leisure and relive what has to have been one of the highlights of my travels in the UK on this visit. You start out in the kitchen and weave your way through all the public reception rooms on the ground floor including a living room-cum-library, a dining room, a withdrawing room where they had after-dinner coffee and a bunch of bedrooms on the top floor, many of which were guest rooms occupied by their weekend guests and then dedicated to them and, therefore, decorated in their style with their personal belongings. It was complicated indeed, the lives these folks led, but it fueled their creativity and provided inspiration for their endless output.

The Gardens at Charleston Farmhouse:

    The gardens at Charleston Farmhouse were very much the domain of Vanessa and Clive Bell. Not only did they enjoy sitting outdoors and painting in situ, but they were avid gardeners themselves. Amy and I were very lucky to see the gardens in spring when lilacs and wisteria scented the pathways, irises in purple and white popped up everywhere, loads of blue forget-me-nots and stately foxgloves in the same pink-purple palette made for the most charming stroll. Every so often we would come across statuary, urns, etc. that added to the decorative value of the property. We took innumerable pictures within the walled garden and on the banks of an artificial pond that was filled with water-lilies. Outside, it is still a working farm and the smell of horse dung hung heavily in the air. In keeping with the scent, we saw horses and a farm dog clopper down the lane outside. 

    We had begun our tour of the house perusing a set of ceramic plates that had been commissioned to be created by Vanessa Bell and Duncan Grant. They chose to portray Famous Women from history and these made a stunning display at the visitor reception area. Our tour ended with a visit to Vanessa's studio at the very top of the house, a space which has been recently refurbished. The widow overlooks the garden below and the Sussex countryside in the distance. All of these elements added to the fantastic ambience of the place. We did not leave before visiting the cafetaria, the loo and, quite by chance, another exhibition in a barn by Langley and Bell called 'Hidden Artists' that featured the interior of artists' studios through the centuries, the personal collection of an art dealer called Katrin Bellinger.  Amy and I were most enchanted by it as we had a chance to see either paintings, drawings or photographs of the interiors of the studios of some of the greatest artists in the world from Picasso and Vanessa Bell to Henri Cartier-Berenson.

Onward to Monk's House in Rodmell:

        We had made arrangements with our taxi-driver Steve to send a taxi for us at 12.15 pm to take us onward to Rodmell and he arrived on schedule. He told us that the drive would take us about 25 minutes which offered us the opportunity to survey the sprawling Sussex countryside as well as engage in lively banter with a cabbie. He was delighted that we were from the USA and told us that he had an "auntie" in Seatle but had never been to the States himself.  He had, however, traveled extensively in Canada from the Rockies to Vancouver and we had a grand time discussing Canadian trails with him.

Arrival at Rodmell: 

          Amy and I had expected to have a light lunch in a cafe that we hoped would be run by the National Trust that manages the property called Monk's House. To be honest, I was looking forward to a nice cheese scone and a nice slice of coffee-walnut cake as those are my favorite things to eat in the National Trust tea rooms. Alas, there was no cafe at Monk's House which turned out to be a really small place. No wonder the entry fee was only 7.50 pounds each (as opposed to 20 pounds at Charleston). Anyway, in just a little while, both of us were starving as I had eaten a very early breakfast and Amy was surviving on a single croissant and coffee. Thankfully, she had a big bag of roasted, salted almonds in her bag and we ate those greedily before our tour began.

A Tour of Monk's House:

    Now a word about the complicated life of the other sister, Virginia. She was an exceedingly talented writer and she gave the world the Stream-of-Consciousness Novel that records the internal monologue of her characters with barely any plot at all. Her novels, Mrs. Dalloway, To the Lighthouse and The Waves are among the most well-known of English novels. Virginia was passionate about her craft and worked hard at her writing. She always resented the fact that, as woman, she and her sister Vanessa, were actually expected to devote some part of their day to running a home, unlike their brothers from whom there were no such expectations. Hence, she wrote her iconic essay, "A Room Of One's Own". And it was at Monk's House that she was able to create this!

    So how did a married woman in the 1920s manage to have a room of her own? Well, because although she married Leonard Woolf, a respected diplomat who had spent long years in Ceylon (now Sri Lanka), it was a well-acknowledged fact that Virginia was a lesbian and had no intimate physical relationship of any kind with her husband. In fact, she is known to have had a lesbian relationship with Vita Sackville-West, the Edwardian aristocrat who was born into a titled family but could not inherit her family estate at Knole House (which I have visited on a previous stay in the UK) in Kent. In fact, Vita married another diplomat, Harold Nicholson, and together they bought Sissinghurt Castle which they created into a family home around which they built the most gorgeous gardens (which I have also visited previously). 

    Vita and Virginia spent a lot of time together at Knole, which became the setting of Virginia's novel Orlando. It would appear that Nicholson accepted Vita's bi-sexual lifestyle as did Leonard Woolf, for both sets of couples remained married although, in the case of Virginia, she lived with Leonard as merely a room mate. Hence, Virginia had no children. She was wracked by mental ill-health all her life. Despite her vast ingenuity and amazing literary proficiency, she suffered frequent bouts of a form of depression that is now recognized as bipolar disorder. Not surprisingly, she took her own life by going swimming in the nearby River Ouse with her pockets weighed down with rocks. Subsequently, Leonard formed an intimate relationship with a Tracy Ritchie, also an artist, who moved into Monk's House where she painted and he gardened. 

    A Tour of Monk's House is also self-guided with a guide in every room. Only three rooms on the ground can be visited--the living room, the dining room and the kitchen. The rooms upstairs have been modernized, over the years, by the various tenants who rented it after Leonard passed away. It was only in recent years that the National Trust acquired the property and have lavished time and money trying to keep it up to snuff--however, they have kept the upper floor out of reach of visitors as the ambience is not of the 1930s and visitors are generally disappointed by the experience. However, you can see paintings done by either Vanessa or Duncan Grant and all manner of accessories that were made by artistic members of the Bloomsbury Group scattered all over the house. So, overall, this house offered much less to the visitor than Charleston did. But the gardens are just as lovely.

    The tour winds its way, eventually, to Virginia's private bedroom where she had a bed, a desk and a wash-basin: a sort of contemporary bedsit. This is the Room of her Own for which she longed and where she did end up writing most of her best-known novels. It is bright and light-filled and overlooks the chirping birds alive outside with spring's new lease on life. I loved it. 

The Gardens of Monk's House:

    Leonard was an avid gardener and much of the garden at Monk's House is his handiwork. Here the color palette is different--a lot of yellow and a great deal of pink. Magnolia trees were in full bloom in these gardens and their huge, saucer-like flowers in pink and magenta, were stunning. There were also staggeringly beautiful yellow parrot tulips and the largest pink peonies I have ever seen. We also saw lilacs hanging low from their bushes in the deepest shade of royal purple--they were unbelievably fragrant. How marvelous it is to see cherry blossom on the trees here in the spring in England! There is a beautiful old church right in front of the house and it is not surprising that artist-visitors to Monk's House, painted it often as its spire is utterly picturesque. The best part of these gardens are that they overlook the South Downs Way, a national trail that goes from Winchester to Margate past the towering white chalk cliffs known as the Seven Sisters. These Stevens Sisters were great lovers of Nature as well as having a devotion to all manner of things creative.  

    When we were done perusing the house, we took a stroll through the quaint village of Rodmell as we had a few minutes' wait for our taxi that would take us back to London. It was not long before the cabbie did show up and off we went. 

On the Train Back to London:

    Since the small packet of almonds that Amy and I had shared simply did not cut it, we picked up cheese and pickle sandwiches at Lewes railway station with chocolate chip cookies and oat and raisin cookies before we boarded our train back to London. The rain had begun again and we felt so fortunate that we had missed it altogether and had been granted a truly impeccable day, weather-wise. In the train back, as we were both exhausted (we had walked for about 8-9 miles), we both fell asleep and awoke only as the train pulled into Victoria station.

    As I had run out on juice on my phone (taking too many photos), we decided to go back to our hotel to charge my phone before the next item on our agenda: this was a visit to Sky Garden, a London attraction to which I had never been.  

Visiting the Sky Garden:

    Amy and I had acquired tickets to visit the Sky Garden which, I am told, is a rooftop atrium garden and one of London's newest attractions.  Tickets here too are timed and ours were for 5.30 pm. We left our hotel at 4.30 pm confident that we would get there on time. However, the heavens had opened out viciously and there was such a heavy downpour that all buses seemed to have crawled to a halt. We stood at our bus stop for over half an hour before we realized that the buses we needed had been diverted and would not stop at our stop! Deeply frustrated, we changed bus stops and still were not sure of our route. I realized we would be very late indeed and wondered if our timed tickets would still be honored. They were not. Not willing to be daunted and with the rain stopping and the sun attempting valiantly to make an appearance, we decided to take a ride on Bus No. 15 to see Central London with all its monuments and buildings for free. I was not entirely sorry to have missed the Sky Garden today as clouds and mist would almost certainly have obscured our views. Furthrermore, Llew and I have tickets for the same attraction later next week--we know now not to be late as they will not permit late entrants!

On the See-London Bus:

    And so we hopped into a bus that began at Mansion House (No. 15) and rode it all the way to Trafalgar Square from where we jumped into a No. 11. This would take us all the way to Chelsea and Fulham and Amy was excited to be in it. As expected, we passed by every major monuments as I kept up a running commentary. Amy was happy to see the Houses of Parliament again because, as an undergraduate, she had actually interned here for a whole year! I did not know this about Amy! During our long chats, I also discovered that her mother is a very talented artist. Amy showed me a bunch of paintings executed by her mother over the years. Some of them were so good that I felt sorely tempted to give her a commission. 

    Soon, we were sailing down the King's Road towards World's End when Amy suggested we hop off and have a nice dinner somewhere as we had been subsisting on mere snacks today. 

Slap-Up Dinner at The Blue Bird in Chelsea:

    And so that was what transpired. We got off at Beauford Street, crossed the street to The Blue Bird and, before we knew it, were seated in a really upscale restaurant which had long been on my Bucket List. This restaurant that was the brain child of Jasper Conran, Terence Conran's son, but it has been bought up by Des Gunawardena, the restaurant king in London. However, the ambience and the crowd were just amazing and as we settled down amidst the pillows of the sofa, we chose our drinks.

    Amy decided to have a Pinto Grigio while I had a salted margarita. It was superb. Our order was equally simple but stunning: Burrata was one of our starters; the other was seared scallops. Both were outstanding. For our mains, we ordered Fussilli pasta with wild mushrooms and a fillet of Grilled Salmon that was done to perfection, served with extraordinarily tender asparagus and a lemony-cream sauce that was unforgettable. Amy and I looked back on our time together and shared many laughs and umpteen expressions of delight and awe as we sipped our drinks and enjoyed the happy camaraderie of two old friends who have known each other for a life time and are fully comfortable together. Tomorrow, Amy will join other friends in London and I will be left to my own devices.  I shall be spending a lot of time at the British Library. It is time to return to some serious research again.

    We felt fully sated with our meal--in fact, so sated that we had no room for dessert. Amy very generously insisted on treating me to the dinner--a way of saying Thank-you for inviting her to join me in London and for all the personal guidance I had provided through our rambles. I was absolutely delighted at the treat as eating at The Blue Bird had also been on my Bucket List for ages. So had Charleston and Monk's House! How marvelous that, one after the other, I was ticking items off it!

      We caught the bus back to our hotel and simply threw ourselves on the bed. We will certainly have a long lie-in tomorrow as we have no program except for a visit to the Victorian and Albert Museum as Amy would like me to give her my Highlights Tour of the place.

    Until tomorrow, cheerio...