In Oxford Again! Can Anything Be more Exhilarating?

 In Oxford Again! Can Anything Be more Exhilarating?

Oxford,

Tuesday, May 10, 2022

    Sharing a bathroom with Amy means taking turns using it and I was the first to do so as I awoke at 5.00 am, as usual, blogged, fooled around a bit on my phone (editing, sending pix to family and friends) and eventually actually got into the hotel bathroom for a shower. It was 6.45 am when I woke Amy up (Boy, can she sleep?!--I am so envious) and slipped out to have my breakfast in Thyme Restaurant downstairs. It was a croissant with butter this morning, followed by another Full English and a mug of decaff coffee. 

Getting to Arnold's 'City of Dreaming Spires':

    By 7.30am, I was up in our hotel room again to find that Amy was almost ready to leave. By the time we did leave, it was about 7.45 am. We walked briskly to Holborn Tube station (where Amy needed an Oyster top-up as she seemed to have run out) and off we went on the Piccadilly Line to Green Park--we changed there to the Victoria Line and got off at bustling Victoria station (one stop ahead). Office-goers had already started to throng the station (although, I have to say, folks are still WFH, post-Covid, and the rush hour is still far more peaceful than it was when I worked in London and the Tubes were packed to capacity).

    We found out that our Oxford Tube coach would leave from Elizabeth Bridge opposition the Coach station in 20 minutes. With time to kill and the weather chilly and slightly damp today, I suggested we shelter in the Coach Station where Amy picked up coffee and a croissant. She is not much of a brekkie-eater but a big coffee-guzzler...

    Our coach did arrive in 20 minutes, we boarded it, bought tickets on the coach (16 pounds return with an open ticket we could use for the return journey up to three months from now). Gosh! Policies have certainly changed with Covid. In the past, you needed to book online or tell the driver exactly when you'd be returning--there was no such thing as an open ticket.

    Needless to say, we took our seats upstairs, front and center, and with traffic crawling all around us (Don't ever think that Bombay is the only place in the world with traffic issues!), we inched out of London. The delays gave me an opportunity to get a bunch of pictures en route and as the landmarks appeared below me, I clicked--Victoria, Wellington's Arch, Apsley House (No. 1 London, home of the Duke of Wellington), Marble Arch, Hyde Park, Holland Park...until we reached Shepherd's Bush and I stopped clicking. We chatted again for another half hour after which both of us became heavy-lidded and fell asleep. I awoke at Hillingdon and was grateful to find that the drizzle had subsided. Excitement filled me as we approached St. Clements and I shook Amy awake just as we steered around the bend that takes us up the High Street past welcoming Magdalen Tower into the university town of Oxford.

     Two minutes later, we were alighting on The High and, if you can even believe this, as soon as we got off, we were in a shop, attracted by the gorgeous merchandise in the window. Ten minutes later, I left with two fabulous pairs of ear-rings and an amusing sign for my bar at home! Not much of a shopper usually, I was amazed at how delighted the act of shopping made me. Online shopping can NEVER have the same thrill as actually being surrounded by beautiful things in a real softly-scented shop with a cheerful seller and the possibility of walking off, right them and there, with all the little baubles money can buy! No wonder not even Covid could make an online shopper of me...and if Covid did not, I'm pretty sure nothing ever will...

On A Walking Tour of Oxford--An Introduction to the Architecture via Queens Lane:     

    And so our walking tour began. As always, I started on Queens Lane which was just filled with the soft shades of mauve and the soft scent of spring flowers as wisteria and lilac followed us at every turn tumbling from the college walls. We skimmed past St. Edmund's Hall College, taking pictures of every quad, while all the time I kept Amy informed of those little details that her eye should not miss. This lane offers the best visual introduction to the Gothic grandeur of the town as Matthew Arnold's "City of Dreaming Spires" reveals itself, in gradual stages, at every turn. We saw the tops of All Soul's College and passed by New College and turned a bend to stop at the Turf Tavern where we found the little medieval pub, Oxford's oldest, in which Bill Clinton used to hang out to smoke pot without inhaling! Needless to say, I began commenting on Inspector Morse (who drank here) at this point, but also introduced Amy to Jane Burden, Pre-Raphaelite Muse, whose humble home stood in this narrow alley until she was plucked from obscurity by William Morris who married her and introduced her to his pals, Edward Burne-Jones and Dante Gabriel Rosetti, who immortalized her in paint. Not surprizingly, there is a huge mural of Jane inside the Turf.

    Then, on we went, under the Bridge of Sighs to see the Sheldonian Theatre ahead of us. But we made a right towards the former Indian Institute (now St. Martin's School) to admire the decorative details on the exterior--cow, lion, tiger, elephant--India's reputed fauna! We paused to look at Holywell House, the music concert hall that belongs to Wadham College before we took Parks Road, went past Trinity College and took pictures for my friend Tunku, who graduated from Trinity, before arriving at Rhodes House. Sir Edward Lutyens and Herbert Baker's building, complete with Neo-Classical rotunda, was a delight to survey, as the rain had stopped and the chestnut trees that surrounded it with their flowering candle-like blooms, made the scene picture-perfect.

Skimming Through Twin Museums--Natural History and Pitt-Rivers:

    Next stop was, of course, the twin museums for we were at the point where the Museum of Natural History loomed before us. We did the highlights, of course--the chief of which was the case holding the Dodo, the extinct bird that pen-named Lewis Carol made into an episodic highlight of his Alice Through the Looking Glass. He loved the Dodo so much because his own personal stammer often made him say his own name as Charles Do-do-Dodgson! There was a special exhibition in the main area of the museum (whose design with its mix of Victorian elaboration and Gothic grandeur, I have always loved)  which caused the skeletal remains of so many creatures (including the dinosaurs) to be sidelined. 

    We then entered the Pitt-Rivers Museum at the back and Amy was simply blown away (as any first-time visitor is) by the absolute volume of the minutea collected by this single cultural anthropologist who bequeathed his entire collection (that runs into many hundreds of thousands of items) to Oxford University that had to build a separate building to house it all! Sadly, its biggest highlight--the Shrunken Heads--which I have taken countless visitors to marvel at--are no longer on display. Politically correct-activists have questioned the ethics of putting human remains on display--it is seen as disrespectful to the dead. The museum has succumbed to their objections by removing from the floor its most popular items--that's how powerful the politically-correct lobby has grown!     

Keble College and its Magnificent Chapel:

       With  Victorian Keble College in front of us, with its striking red brick facade with white brick highlights--such a departure from the honey-toned Cotswold stone of the other colleges--there was nothing to do but enter to see its sunken Quad. We obtained permission from the kind porters at the Porter's Lodge to enter the college as we were keen to see the Chapel, reputedly one of the most beautiful and unusual in Oxford. For the next ten minutes, we were surrounded by the elaboration of Victorian architectural design outside and the detail of Byzantine mosaic work inside. There was a singing lesson in progress at the altar and we stopped to listen to the soaring voice of an Oxonian undergrad rise to the soaring ceiling. Indeed, the mosaic work flows from floor to ceiling and is simply arresting in its grandeur.

Surveying St. Giles:

    Outside Keble College again, we took Museum Road to get to the intersection where The Eagle and Child Pub (haunt of the Inklings, C.S. Lewis and JRR Tolkien, alums of Exeter Collegem who nicknamed it The Bird and Baby'!) stood before us, sadly closed (a victim of Covid). Who knows when it will re-open? We took in the War Memorial to the right of us as we made our way down St. Giles to get to the Martyrs Memorial where we stopped for a history lesson on the burning at the stake of Archbishops Cranmer, Latimer and Ridley by Queen Mary Tudor. A little later, on Broad Street, I would show Amy the exact stop where the horrific burning occurred as the excesses of the post-Protestant Reformation swept over England. Yes, walking through Oxford is like walking through the pages of British History--which always makes it endlessly fascinating for me.

Retail Therapy and A Lunch Break:

    Up The Broad, I could not resist some more retail therapy, this time at the Oxfam store, where I restrained myself from picking up a DVD box set. If it is still there when I return to Oxford, I will have thought about it long enough and it will no longer be an impulse buy! Quite hungry by this time, we passed by Turl Street with intentions of returning to Exeter College after we had eaten a bite of lunch. Lunch was in the lobby cafetaria of the Weston Library where I opted for an absolutely delicious Chicken Luxor Soup with crusty bread and butter and Amy had a cibatta panini with cheese and sun-dried tomatoes.  Post-lunch, we browsed through the tattered tapestry map of Oxfordshire on the wall and went rapidly through an exhibition on Tutankhamun,  then hurried outside in bright sunshine--thankfully, past a crew that was shooting something: whether it was a new TV series called Pack of Lies or a Wheetabix commercial, who knows? It looked like something out of Game of Thrones with knights in full armor and ladies in capes milling around.     

The Norrington Room at Blackwell's Bookstore:

    Although Blackwell's is one of the most popular  book stores in Oxford and among the best-known in the world, few people know about the marvelous Norrington Room located in the back of the store. Once you locate the secret staircase running down to the basement, you will find yourself in a rabbit hole as you go deeper and deeper into the bowels of the earth for at least five levels down until you are below Trinity College which is said to be above those several hundred thousands of books. Amy was quite fascinated by it all and might have wanted to spend more time there, were it not for the fact that we still had a lot of ground to cover. 

    We passed by The White Horse tavern as I wanted to show Amy another one of Inspector Morse's habitual watering holes; but it would be closed until 3.00 pm. Of course, we would be far from this point by that time on the clock. 

On to the Museum of Science:

    Instead we hurried off across the road to The Museum of Science where the biggest attraction is the blackboard that carries the actual handwritten mathematical scribbles of the one and only Albert Einstein, Father of Relativity. The story goes that the blackboard was preserved after he had written a problem on it, even as the possibility that it might have been wiped off right after Einstein gave his invited lecture at Oxford, is not lost on the vast number of scientists who come in to pay respects.

Discovering Oxford's Main Buildings:

    It was only left, at this point, to cross on to the Clarendon Building and point out the sculpture of Sir Christopher Wren as he gazes it wonder, as it were, at the cupola of the Sheldonian Theatre that he himself designed. Next, we crossed the quad and entered into the courtyard of the Bodleian Library, named after Thomas Bodley, a well-known courtier knight, in his time--the 1500s. I pointed out the sculpture of the Duke of Pembroke, the statue of James I in whose reign the tall columns sporting Doric, Ionic and Corinthian columns were set with the Classical style of column right at the top. We popped in quickly to see the gift shop and followed a group as they entered the Divinity School with its ornate stone hanging pendants. By this time were were very tired indeed, it was almost 2.10 and we realized that permitted visits into the various Oxford Colleges could begin. So, of course, I took Amy to my own college, Exeter College, which is usually only open from 2-5 pm for visitors (and only the front quad). But as an alumnus of the college, I was allowed access to all parts of it and was Amy lucky or what??

Visiting Exeter College:

    After taking in the ivy-covered buildings of the main Quad, we started off in the Chapel, George Gilbert Scott's masterpiece (he is also the designer of the Rajabai Clock Tower building of the library at Bombay University's Fort campus). Inside, I pointed out to Amy the fabulous tapestry entitled 'The Adoration of the Magi' based on a painting by Edward Burne-Jones and executed by William Morris in his tapestry manufacturing works--they were, of course, very close friends (together with Rosetti) and formed the group known as the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. They had met at Exeter College as undergrads and remained close friends their entire lives.  Over the years, I have visited their amazing homes (in Walthamstow which was Morris' childhood home, Red House in Beckingsdale which they shared for many years and then Kelmscott Manor in Lechlade in the Cotsworlds which I hope to visit again, this time with Llew, in a few days' time). Like the members of the other literary and artistic circle whose work I closely follow (the Bloomsbury Group), they decorated each others' homes within an inch of their lives! Here, in Exeter, the curtains flanking the incredible mosaics around the altar are William Morris' designs--my Covid mask is created out of the same William Morris fabric!--and everywhere you turn, you see elements of their creative lives. As a grad student here, I had attended sung Evensong frequently in this glorious space.

    Next, we walked out on to the quad again and bumped right into an elderly man who was inquiring after a current undergrad with these words, "He died here, right?" She looked blankly at him and blinked. I butted right in, "You're talking about Inspector Morse, right? Yes, he fell down right here--died in the grass on the quad to which Lewis moved him tenderly". The man grinned. "So great to meet a fellow-Morse fan!" he said, and I couldn't have agreed more--for the feeling was mutual. And at the very spot where my favorite British detective of all time, Inspector morse, had died! 

    I then took Amy towards the Quad--the Margary Quadrangle--in which my dorm room was located. Yes, over the years, I have returned to this site of my youthful intellectual endeavors with great enthusiasm and vigor...but in recent years, security fixtures no longer allow us to go up the stairs anymore without key hobs. I also showed Amy the room occupied by my friend Firdaus and the underground room where I have lectured on being invited back by Exeter College--this time as a guest professor! Lovely, lovely memories!

    Next, we walked through the Junior Common Room to get to the Fellows' Garden where so many current students were studying hard in the golden sunshine as finals are not long now. We passed the Library, then climbed the stairs to the fabulous ramparts of the college that allowed us to walk on the college walls and take in the stunning vistas of Radcliff Square with James Gibbs' architectural masterpiece, the Radcliff Camera aka the Rad Cam, the main building of the Bodleian Library and site of many a long hour spent by me pouring over books! It completely dominates the space. We also took in All Souls' College and the spire of the Church of St Mary the Virgin bathed in gorgeous sunlight--for yes, the morning drizzle had given way to a glorious day!     

    Next, we walked down the rampart stairs and made a brief visit into the Dining Hall where we took in the splendid timbered ceiling with its exposed beams, walls filled with oil portraits of erstwhile dons and Masters and the magnificent carved screen--this is the work of craftsmen of the 15th century. Sadly, the Afternoon Tea service has been suspended as the students are currently in residence, but we would return to the campus for sung Evensong. 

Along the High Street:

    Quickly we left the college premises and walked along Turl Street to the High Street where I pointed out Examinations Hall and University College where Bill Clinton was a Rhodes Scholar. We entered the Covered Market further up the High so that Amy could admire the wonders of Victorian architecture in a covered market (similar to Crawford Market in Bombay--same era, same style). Through the market we went to arrive on the other side at Carfax and on Cornmarket Lane, we hurried forward towards Beaumont Street to see the Highlights of the Ashmolean Museum before it closed for the day. it was about 4 pm and Amy would have a chance to see its Highlights.

In the Ashmolean Museum:

    I was a bit fatigued by this point, needed the loo and a sit-down. I left Amy with a leaflet in her hand that showed the 10 highlights of the Ashmolean and off she went on her own to find them. I told her not to miss Guy Fawke's Lantern, Powhatan's Mantle, two paintings--Paolo Uccelo's The Hunt and Piero di Cosimo's The Forest Fire--and of course, the Alfred Jewel which is the single most valuable item owned by the Ashmolean. After using the basement loo, I rode the elevator to the second floor to take in the Pre-Raphaelite gallery that featured works by Rosetti, Burne-Jones, Ford Maddow Brown and William Holman Hunt (all great friends and members of the same artistic circle) before I walked into the gallery with the famous painting by Turner of Oxford's High Street--a brilliant capturing of the ethos and ambience of one of the town's most famous streets that offers views of the facades of its most famous buildings. 

Another Sit-Down and a Treat:

    We were out of the Ashmolean by 5pm--I pointed out the Randolphe Hotel (where Morse often swigged away) and the Oxford Playhouse (where I have attended many a dramatic performance) before we got to Knoops, a new chocolate house located right under the window of my room on Turl Street. Both of us badly needed a drink and I settled for a custom-made milkshake while Amy had a hot chocolate. I had shown her the main sights of this part of the town and needed only to cover the end past St. Aldates. However, just as we were passing the main door of Exeter College, we realized that sung Evensong would be beginning shortly in the Chapel and we decided to join it. For the next half hour, we treated ourselves to the brilliant organ-playing and the brilliant singing of the college choristers in the gorgeous interiors of one of the university's most ornate chapels whose stained glass windows, in the French royaume style, have been directly inspired by those of Sainte Chapelle in Paris.  

Visiting The Bear Pub:

    A good half hour later, after we had rested our feet from all that trudging, we left Turl Street and returned to the High. At Merton Street, we made a left to take a very narrow cobbled alley to arrive at The Bear, Oxford's famous medieval pub where students were once permitted to pay for a drink by leaving behind their school tie! Thus began an enduring tradition! Thousands and thousands of ties, well-marked and dated in fountain pen ink, well displayed in glass cases, line the walls and ceiling of the many tiny little cubby-holes that form this pub. Amy was simply aghast! Today, you cannot pay with a tie, of course, but if you want to see a museum devoted exclusively to ties, this is the place.

St. Aldate's and Christ Church College:

    We walked next along St. Aldate's to Christ Church College where, of course, since Evensong was just ending, we were only permitted to enter the Porter's Lodge and gaze upon Oxford's largest Quad. Built by Cardinal Wolsey in the 1500s, it was taken over by King Henry VIII when Wolsey fell out of favor and was executed. The main fountain with the statue of Hermes is a good sight as are the unfinished cloisters. I told Amy about the legend of the race around the quad at 9.00 pm each night when Old Tom, the bell in Tom Tower above the main entrance of the college, tolls 101 times and students try to run around the Quad once before its last tolling. This was the opening scene of the film Chariots of Fire as the film's protagonists trained in this space, being Christ Church undergrads themselves. This is the only college in the world that can boast a cathedral on its campus, was the refuge for an exiled king (Charles I) and is the location of some of the most well-known scenes of Hogwarts School of Wizardry in J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter film series.

    What was left was to enter the beautiful Perennial gardens that lead to the Meadows and the River Isis, but since the gardens are wearing their spring avatar, they are very different from those of the high summer which are lush in their profusion. We peeped over Foley Bridge to take in the sight of Oxford crew men in their boats on the river as the evening's slanting rays gilded the water. 

Strolling Along the Thames to Dinner: 

    At this point, we took the path leading to the banks of the Thames as we were going to be right in time for dinner at the home fo our friends Sue and Tony on Marlborough Street. Instead of walking along the main road towards Grandpont, I suggested we take the river route and, of course, we were treated to bird song, coxes roaring as rowers glided past and the sights of blackberry bushes--not yet in fruit. 

Dinner with Fond Oxford Friends:

    Ten minutes later, we were passing by the homes of novelist Margaret Drabble and Cherry Blair, on the same street, before we were outside our friends' home and getting enveloped in huge bearhugs as I was seeing my friends after ages (three years). We had the best evening as we caught up and they got to know Amy. Before the sun set, we took pictures on their patio that overlooks the vast meadows beyond. Inside, we were treated to cold elderberry drinks and then dinner at the dining table: Tony's amazing leek, blue cheese and walnut quiche (I have taken  this recipe from him and offered it often to friends at dinner parties even at my Bombay flat--and they have all gone bonkers about it), boiled new potatoes and a lovely salad with fresh mixed greens. Dessert was Sue's fabulous sticky toffee pudding drowning in gooey, delicious toffee sauce and the most wonderful vanilla ice-cream. Who knows where time went as we chatted non-stop and laughed through every mouthful. 

Journey Back to Oxford:

    By 9.00 pm, however, as we had such a long way to go to London, we said our goodbyes to our friends. I will be back in a couple of weeks with Llew as we will be staying in this cosy home for a few days when Sue and Tony go off to Cambridge for a bit. But, Sue sweetly accompanied us to the bus-stop and when we discovered that we had a 40 minutes' wait for it, we bid her farewell and walked to Carfax instead. It was chilly and so we escaped into a McDonald's where we used the wifi before hurrying to the coach-stop outside Queens College. Our bus arrived at 9.41pm and up we went only to fall dead asleep even before it quite pulled out of Hidlington! 

    In London, we alighted at Notting Hill and took the Central Line tube to Holborn from where we walked to our hotel. It was close to midnight. It had been an exhausting day and all we could do was peel off our clothes, get into our PJs and and under our duvet. We had walked about 11 miles, as Amy had received the Rochelle Tour. She had seen the highlights of three museums (not just the streets and colleges of the town) and had renewed acquaintance with Oxford (in which she had last been over 40 years ago). As for me, I had relived with nostalgic fondness the happy memories of my own youth in one of my favorite places in the world.

    Until tomorrow, cheerio...           

Amy Arrives, Bloomsbury Beckons, British Library Research Commences, Presentation at NYU-London

Amy Arrives, Bloomsbury Beckons, British Library Research Commences, Presentation at NYU-London

London

Monday, May 9, 2022

    I am still jetlagged enough to wake up at 5.00 am while light is already sneaking in through my window. Blogging kept me busy for the next hour, not to mention sorting my photographs and deleting the bad ones. At 7.30 am, I called my Dad and brother in India, I showered and went down to breakfast to enjoy another one of the huge buffet brekkies that is a treat to peruse and partake. Today I tried the pancakes with Lyle's Golden Syrup with maple flavor, a Full English breakfast and fruit--with decaff coffee, of course. How wonderful it is to be in the West where decaff coffee is not a rare novelty!

    I was at the hotel Reception requesting cleaning of my room and fresh towels today when my friend Amy walked, right on cue, right through the door. I was seeing her after about 18 months and we were just delighted to be together again. Her flight from New York had been very pleasant, she said, on JetBue, and she did not need to take a nap. Having stopped for a takeaway coffee en route, she had a caffeine flx to fire her with renewed zeal.

    Upstairs in our hotel room, we spent a whole hour catching up, but we also knew that we'd be together for the next few days with several long rides thrown in on public transport. We'd have ample time to do what we love doing most--gabbing! Amy showered while I got ourselves organized for what would be the first item on our agenda--a Literary walk in Bloomsbury

A Literary Walk in Bloomsbury:

    Any student of English Literature knows that the very name Bloomsbury conjures up fervid literary activity in London of the early 20th century. This was the great age of Virginia and Leonard Woolf, her sister Vanessa and her husband Clive Bell, the biographer Lytton Stratchey and his close friend, the artist Dora Carrington, the economist John Maynard Keynes, the painter Duncan Grant, the novelist E.M. Forster and his gay partner John Middleton Murray. These intellectuals became close friends with the Stevens' boys, Adrian and Thoby (brothers of Virginia and Vanessa) at Cambridge and part of a circle of friends that met every Thursday for what they called "at homes"--salons, of sorts, where they met to discuss their literary  and artistic work. 

    Thus, in the course of this creative fraternizing, romantic relationships flourished, marital partners were exchanged and creativity flowed. It is said, somewhat humorously, that the members of the Bloomsbury Group belonged to Circles, lived in Squares and loved in Triangles! Indeed, their homes were located around London's most fashionable squares (Bloomsbury, Tavistock, Russel, Woborn, Fitzroy, Gordon)--all of which sport a whole clutch of blue plaques--the symbols of celebrity domestic occupancy. I have had such a ball, through the years, taking walks around these squares occupied by "the Bloomsburywalas" by which name they were once referred in a movie I watched, that I return time and time again to take in the unchanged ambience of the neighborhood. As Amy and I will be moving on towards what is called "Bloomsbury in Sussex"--the country homes of the two sisters, Virginia (at Monk's House in Rodmell) and Vanessa (at Charleston Farmhouse in Lewes), I thought it would be pertinent to take her on a walking tour of their London homes before we reached Sussex.

    The walk not only showed us the homes of the members of the Bloomsbury Group but exposed us to some wonderful sculpture, some of which were of Indian notables: Gandhi is seated in solemn splendour at Tavistock Square where he shares space with a bust of Virginia Woolf and Rabindranath Tagore is seen at Russel Square. We also passed by the Foundling Museum and Coram Fields (closer to Holborn) where our walk began, the Green Man sculpture just behind the School of Oriental and African Studies where I was once invited to give a guest lecture, the imposing heights of the Senate House Library (where I once had a membership and had done research)--the only building in London that Hitler gave orders not to be bomb because its Brutalist architecture appealed to him and he wished to convert the building into Nazi Headquarters after his anticipated invasion of Britain, The Royal Academy of Dramatic Art (RADA) which is considered one of the finest drama schools in the world, the main building of the University of London (where I took Amy to see the auto-icon of economist and huge supporter of the university, Jeremy Bentham who sits in a glass case, now in the Student Center) and, of course, the imposing bulk of the Neo-Classical British Library.

  Research in the British Library:

    By this point, I bid Amy a temporary goodbye as I wished to carry out some research at the British Library based on the material for which I had called on Friday last. I took a bus for a couple of stops past Euston while Amy decided to walk down Gower Street and get to the British Museum where I suggested she take the Highlights Tour based on a leaflet available at the Main Information Desk.  She did just that and had a brilliant time as she saw The Rosetta Stone, the Elgin Marbles, the Assyrian bas-reliefs of a lion-hunt, etc. My own work went fine and I was able to cover a lot of ground in my own quest for information on my current manuscript, some gaps of which need to be filled.

    My work done, I returned to my hotel and not a long time later, was joined by Amy. She and I had just enough time to snatch a quick nap before we realized that we had to meet our friend Raquel at 4.00 pm. We were running late but we texted her and let her know. 

Coffee with Raquel at the Hoxton Hotel, Holborn:

    I was simply delighted to have the opportunity to meet Raquel again as it had been ages since I had last seen her. In fact, I think she was last at my place in Southport, Connecticut, for dinner, a long time ago--about six years ago. We do chat occasionally on the phone, of course, but seeing her in person is simply the biggest treat. She had picked the venue--it turned out to be a massive bar on the ground floor of the hotel just at the point where High Holborn meets Shaftesbury Avenue. Raquel had already ordered a mint tea, but Amy and I had decaff coffees as we sat and chatted avidly. I had already dressed formally for my presentation at NYU which was at 6.00 pm and so Amy (who was going to accompany me to the talk) and I parted company with Raquel and told her we really did hope to see her again. '

My Presentation at NYU:

    It was simply grand to be at Bedford Square again (I had avoided it on our walk around Bloomsbury this morning) as I knew we'd be back there later today. NYU in London has expanded and where we once had just one building overlooking the square, today we have three.  I have been to these premises, of course, off and on over the years, and am very well known to the porters, Mo (short for Mohammed) and Mark North, both of whom know me well and give me a joyous welcome--this time it was Mo. In the lobby, I bumped into Catherine, the Director, who was responsible for inviting me to speak and for green lighting my talk. Amy and I made our way upstairs to the floor above in the Academic Center where we were joined, just a bit later, by Ruth who is also a very dear associate of mine and someone who always and unfailingly supports me and my research. Through past presentations at NYU, she has been there to organize and orchestrate and I am always very grateful to her.

    Sadly, with final exams around the corner, we did not have much student participation. But Catherine began the session and I talked about my work and described the journey from Blog to Book and from Screen to Page. I also read a couple of extracts from the book in which I talked about a visit to Barcelona and about getting afflicted with plantar fasciitis. There wasn't much time for questions although we paused for interesting discussion. Overall, it was a small and rather informal chat rather than a presentation and I am glad it went well.

Dinner at Hiba Lebanese Restaurant with Amy:

    I had one chore to do at the medical center before 8.00 pm and we returned so that I could get it done. Next, we decided to carry on for dinner and since My Old Dutch Pancake place was closed (much to my disappointment), we opted to eat at Hiba instead. En route, I suggested Amy step into the Princess Louise Pub on High Holborn which has all the original fitments of its Victorian Age origins as well magnificent etched stained-glass windows.

    Hiba was just two minutes away and Amy and are were relieved to end our day on a quiet note as it had been quite eventful. Amy chose a Cheese Wrap (made with Haloumi) while I had the Fatoush Salad topped with grilled chicken. It was all very good and satisfying and, as was to be expected, both of us took much longer to eat as we chatted non-stop.  

    Dinner done, we walked briskly back to our hotel as it was just past 9 pm and Amy (who'd had little or no sleep on the flight) was swiftly fading away.   

    How delightful it is to have my friend for company and to look forward to sharing a few lovely days together. Tomorrow, we have plans to get to Oxford and so, I will bit you goodbye.

    Until tomorrow...       

   

 

A Super Sunday in London: Churches, Friends, Shopping, Pub Grub...

 A Super Sunday in London: Churches, Friends, Shopping, Pub Grub... 

London

Sunday, May 8, 2022

    Another fabulous day saw me packing it in furiously. But then that's the story of my life: not just when I am in London, but in general! So, I awoke at 5.00 am, did some blogging, showered, went down to breakfast (a tad later than usual--so saw more traffic at the buffet bars: feasted on a Full English Brekkie for I will never tire of English bacon and bangers) and went walkabout!

Visit to my Former Parish Church of St. Etheldreda's:

    I walked briskly to High Holborn and jumped into the 8 to ride it two stops to Holborn Circle. From there, I walked to Ely Place, having the area entirely to myself as the rest of London snored during a weekend lie-in. It was past 9 am, but I was only there at St. Etheldreda's Church for a visit (for old times' sake)--I had been in contact earlier in the morning with friends (early risers like myself) and had fixed to meet them for Mass at their church at Knightsbridge. I was happy to get the last bits of Mass and to see Fr. Tom Deidun at the altar--yes, still there after all these years. Priests are never transferred in the UK or the US (unlike in India). 

     Praying at St. Etheldreda's is always special for me. For one thing, it is eerily historic! Dating from 1250 when the Bishop of Ely (then the most powerful prelate in England) received permission to build a church at Hatton Gardens, it is considered the oldest Catholic Church in the UK as it was the first church to return to Roman Catholicism (in 1620) after the horrors of the Protestant Reformation had subsided. Shakespeare might have worshipped here but Queen Elizabeth I most certainly did, in her younger, pre-Queen days. Of course, the neighborhood has changed enormously since the 13th century (this is, of course, one of the oldest parts of London) but the church itself is exactly the same--the imposing stained glass windows, the statues of important lay people from the Renaissance high on the walls, the old Baptismal font, etc. St. Etheldreda's earthly remains are on the right hand side of the high altar. I am always thrilled when I realize that the oldest Catholic Church in England was once my parish!

A Nostalgic Walk Around Holborn and Farringdon:

    With my visit done, I decided to take a walk around my previous stomping ground (I would only be meeting my friends at 10.30 am and had about an hour to kill). So off I went, past Hatton Gardens, towards Charterhouse. Along the way, I passed by the Victorian Central Cold Storage building which is now defunct as the famous Victorian Smithfield Meat Market (which had been in business for at least 200 years) closed shop. I recall waking at dawn, when I lived in the building across the street, to be part of the bustle of butchers and restauranteurs selling and buying stock for the day--not a pretty sight, but one of those weird London experiences that only insiders can have! I took a lot of pictures of the beautiful building because I love its dimensions and ornate wrought-iron cladding and decorative details.

    Then, I walked further into Charterhouse Square to take pictures of the Carthusian monastery that dates back seven centuries. Jam packed with religious history that spans Tudor, Renaissance and Reformation times, it is still a working monastery and has about 10 monks still in residence. I once had the privilege of getting an insider's tour of the premises from one of the monks (please look at a past blog post here) and had loved every second of it. Queen Elizabeth I prepared for accession to the throne from this venue.

    The Charterhouse Monastery overlooks Charterhouse Square which is famous for one more thing--less historic, more cultural: On it stands the modern Art Deco building that is the facade for the apartment of Agatha Christie's Hercule Poirot in the TV series starring David Suchet as Poirot! I took a few pictures on a glorious day when sunshine filled the square and then made my way on.

    Of course, I had to go along Cowcross Street where I had once lived in a converted warehouse, occupying the entire floor of what, in New York, we would have been called a 'loft'--all 6000 square feet of it! Sadly, the friends who had given me their London pied a terre to live in for 3 months, no longer own it. But nostalgia was rife as I walked alongside it and took pictures of The Castle pub at the corner which also functions as a pawn shop, has a license to do so and proudly sports the three hanging golden balls that proclaims this fact. The story goes that one of England's erstwhile kings (I forget which one), in disguise during his more profligate days, entered the pub and into a gambling match with a bystander. He lost everything and in desperation left his watch as collateral with the publican. The next day, he returned with the money to claim it and walked out with it. The next day, he sent the publican a license for pawn-broking (as indeed that was what he had done--he had pawned his watch on the gaming tables). This makes The Castle the only pub in England that also doubles as a pawn shop! And this was once my 'local'! How cool is that???

En route to Knightsbridge:

    Well, just as I was musing upon all these things, Farringdon Tube station, entirely spiffied up to function as one of the stops on the new Crossrail that will be christened the Elizabeth Line, loomed in front of me. I jumped into a Metropolitan line train to get to St. Paul's, Knightsbridge, for Mass at 10.30.  I was actually going to meet my friends at the entrance to their building in Chelsea and we were supposed to walk to church together. But I soon realized that I would never reach there on time. I phoned them and told them to carry on and that I would meet them directly in church. And that was what I did.

    I had forgotten how disrupted the public transport is in London on a Sunday, but, nevertheless, I soldiered on. At Great Portland Street, I got off and jumped into the Circle Line train. I then got off at Edgeware Road to connect to the Piccadilly Line to get off at Knightsbridge. This I did, with a whole lot of annoying delays.  At South Kensington Station, I realized I could take a bus to Wilton Place where St. Paul's Church is located. And that was exactly what I did. A bus heading towards Hyde Park Corner came along and I got off just steps from the church. As my friends Michael and Cynthia were entering the church, so was I! They were flabbergasted...but you can only do this kind of transportation juggling if you know London as well as I do! We had a fond reunion (and, thankfully, we can now hug with impunity!) before we entered the church. There, I promptly met my friend Sarah who came across to hug me and say Hiya and Welcome to London.

A Mass to Remember:

    It is only when I am back in an Anglican Church for a sung service that I realize why I love Church of England worship so much and why I have such a hard time with church services in India. Everything about these churches--from their interior grandeur (this one is also neo-Gothic) to the splendour of the choir (music is an essential part of Anglican worship), the dramatic homilies from brilliant speakers that craft them with wit and humor and thoughtful quotations, the amazing sense of spirituality that engulfs me when I am in the company of worshippers who participate loudly and sing lustily and have no qualms about being a very vocal part of the service, are all the aspects of worship I miss in India. 

    There was a Baptism scheduled and I was surprized to find that the baby was almost two years old! I don't know if this is customary in the Church of England or whether the parents simply waited Covid out! Anyway, we all renewed our Baptismal vows with the baby's parents and then the service proceeded. New musical compositions were being tried out this morning with the composer, Kerensa Briggs, actually sitting in the congregation with us and listening to the power of her own stupendous work! 

    Mass done, there were drinks served to encourage socializing, but since I knew no one except  my friends, we decided to move on. Michael and Cynthia had invited me to their place for lunch and I thoroughly enjoyed the 15 minutes' slow stroll to Cadogan Square in Chelsea for we passed by the tony shops and restaurants of Belgravia and the home of Admiral Lord Louis Mountbatten, last Viceroy of India, and his wife Edwina. I was most excited and took a picture in front of it. One of my favorite students (who now lives here in London) had once asked me for a recommendation so that she could apply for the Lord Mountbatten Prize. I had given her a glowing reference as she is one of the finest students I have ever taught, she got it, came to London, met her husband, had two children and remains a close friend! Llew and I will be having dinner with her family later in our stay. She always tell me that but for my course, she would never even have heard of Lord Mountbatten!   

    We arrived at Gloucester Court soon enough where my friends put a G & T in my hand and bustled around to put a simple soup and cheese meal on the table--sweet corn soup with buttered toast and cheddar cheese, lots of nibbles (peanuts, crisps, mango chutney, etc.--a real ploughman's lunch), a Quiche Lorraine and dessert of delicious fresh fruit salad. We had the best time as we caught up on so many things in our lives. What a great time I have every time I am with them! They are my closest friends in London and Cynthia and I consider ourselves to be sisters!  Eventually, however, I had to leave as I wanted to make the most of a gorgeous day and shopping on the King's Road at Sloane Square beckoned. I decided to be a cool Sloane Ranger for just a little while!

Becoming a Sloane Ranger:

    And so I walked down the King's Road on a day when a lot of other people had the same idea--everyone was enjoying the warm sunshine (I actually had to peel off my jacket). Chelsea has special significance for Llew and me as his brother had lived on Redesdale Street in a gorgeous house when he had been posted to work in London, many moons ago. For three years in a row, Llew and I had spent part of our summers in Chelsea and became well acquainted with its retail offerings. I bought a pair of ear-rings in one shop and moved on towards World's End to buy a bone china mug in another. Cynthia had directed me to a hair dresser she uses called Mahi in a salon called Greema's Hair Salon, but when I reached there, I discovered that Mahi would next be there only on Tuesday and that I would need to make an appointment to see her. I badly needed a haircut and I thought that London would be a great place to get one!

 Bits and Bobs on a Sunshiny Day:

    I them hopped into a bus getting back to Central London and thrilled, once again, to the joys of being on the King's Road. Just before leaving Sloane Square, I entered Peter Jones (Department store) as I needed a glass and chrome pump dispenser for liquid hand soap in my bathroom in India. However, the ones I saw were too plain and I will keep looking.

 By the time it arrived at Piccadilly, I had decided to hop off to see the special exhibition of English bone china manufacturers at Fortnum and Mason which is also one of my favorite shops in London. And that was what I did. I got off at Green Park, walked past the Ritz and arrived at my destination only to find a fabulous exhibition to celebrate the Queen's Platinum Jubilee in the shop windows. They were simply splendid. I surveyed the offerings on the ground floor, of course, but I was mainly interested in the exhibition on the first floor--an absolute treat for any lover of painted porcelain and fine bone china. There were a couple of antique tea sets on display and for sale and I was sorely tempted to buy a Tea for Two set! But then I thought about what my current collection of porcelain teacups has meant--they will only be given away some day! So, I decided to restrain my impulse and move on. 

    I had the best time as I moved through the luxury items on this floor, curbing my enthusiasm at every turn. Eventually, I left the store and hopped into another bus to get back to my hotel as I thought it would be good to get a bit of a rest. I had chatted on the phone with my friend Rosemary whom I be meeting for dinner and we decided it would be at Bill's on Kingsway in Holborn. So back on the bus I hopped, got off at my hotel and had a very brief lie-down, but sadly no nap.

Dinner with Rosemary:

    I was at Bill's on schedule (only to find it temporarily closed--Covid has a lot to answer for!). After a fab reunion (she is one of my closest friends in London), we decided to try The Shakespeare's Head pub next door where they had a good deal: an alcoholic drink and a burger for under 10 pounds! It was indeed a steal and we had the same except that Roz had a glass of red wine while I had a pint of Guinness as I love it as a draft stout. Over our meal, needless to say, we gabbed nineteen to the dozen. Roz caught me up on all the doings in her life and we resolved to meet again (we will probably stay with her for one night just before our departure) once Llew gets here.

    We parted company at 9.00 am as Roz had a whiles to go to Battersea where she lives. And with that, as twilight fell most charmingly over the rooftops of the curving buildings on High Holborn, I made my way back to my hotel at Red Lion Street. 

    It was not long before I readied myself for bed and went straight to sleep. It will be my last night alone in the hotel as my friend Amy arrives from New York tomorrow to spend the next few days with me. I cannot wait to see her again!

    Until tomorrow, cheerio...      

  

The Spring Delights of a Saturday in London: Portobello Road and Borough Market and Meetings with Friends

The Spring Delights of a Saturday in London: Portobello Road and Borough Market and Meetings with Friends

London, May 7, 2022

    I am still waking up very early indeed--about 4.00 am. I suppose this is to be expected as I am still on my Bombay body clock. Fortunately, I have loads to do--it's a good time to catch up with my blog.

    Shower done, I went down to the restaurant for brekkie and ate a horse--or close! Muesli with yogurt, French pastries, a Full English (helpings, I assure you, were restrained)! Decaff coffee fueled me for the day and I left at about 9.30 am to cover the first item on my Saturday agenda! For yes, I do have an agenda when I am in London, based entirely on the day of the week.  Saturdays are inevitably spent at Portobello Road and in Borough Market. So, off I went. From Theobald's Road, just outside my hotel, I took the 38 bus to Tottenham Court Road Tube station and hopped on to the Central Line--I knew it would get me there much faster than the bus all the the way to Notting Hill. 

On Foot to Portobello Road:

    The walk en route to Portobello Road from Notting Hill Gate Tube Station has become a treat in and of itself for me. Over the last almost 40 years, I have seen the area change and get more touristic with every decade. When local vendors realized how much foot traffic towards Portobello's antiques' dealers could aid their businesses, they began catering to the hordes. Most of the shops along the way offer vintage clothing, shoes, records, bric a brac. One of my favorite shops is a vintage jewelry shop--over the years I have bought a lot of special pieces from here. This time a gorgeous necklace caught my eye...but when I inquired about it, it turned out to be a designer piece by YSL and was priced at 300 pounds. I do have gift money to spend in London at my disposal--but not that much! So sadly, I bid the piece goodbye and moved on. At least I have a good eye, I consoled myself as I walked on...

    Spring has sprung at Notting Hill and the lovely mews homes (now worth millions of pounds) sport ice-cream colors to match the profuse blossom on the trees: soft pink, lavender, baby blue. Wisteria treads its way to the rafters, cherry blossom colors street corners. George Orwell's house gets much traction. Everyone wants a picture in front of the home of the man who gave us Big Brother! Soon the enchantment of cobbled streets gives way to the beginning of the antiques market. The big dealers whose shops are overflowing with stock (lean Covid days are responsible) are happy again. I entered into a lovely conversation with a silver dealer who informed me what sort of silver polish I should buy when I inquired as to how he was able to keep his beautiful sterling silver tea sets gleaming. In the polluted, salty air of Bombay, I will need loads of it, no doubt, but perhaps I shall buy some before I leave. He warned me against using cream or liquid versions as it takes off each layer with every polishing.

    As for the pop-up vendors along the streets, well...all they sell today is kitsch. Alice's today is just a shadow of its former self. I think of the days when I had picked up a real Japanese Imari umbrella stand for pennies, cut-crystal and sterling silver cutlery...today, it is nothing but teapots and mugs and creamers--and all of them are in ugly ceramic (not a single bone china mug in sight). Totally bummed out, I am beginning to wonder whether I should give up my Saturday stints here--they are a sheer waste of time now.

Off to Borough Market:

    Unwilling to walk all the way back to the main road, I jumped into a passing bus and rode in it to Knightsbridge. Had I more time, I would have popped into Harrods, but as there is no sale on at this time, it makes no sense to venture there. I took the Jubilee Line to get to Southwark as my next port of call was Borough Market. I was meeting my friend Lawrence Powell there at 1.00 pm but it was soon clear I would not make it on time. I called him and told him I was running late. I got off at Southwark and had a good ten minute walk to the Market. A few minutes later, Lawrence and I had a happy reunion. We spent the next ten minutes encircling the Market which has also burgeoned and was just thronging with tourists. Borough Market, for those unfamiliar with this venue, is a venue that has, for years, showcased the artisinal food offerings of purveyors of quality. In the yeats gone by, you could eat lunch based entirely on the free samplers ("tasters') doled out: cheese, dips, sauces, charcuterie, jams, marmalades, berries, bread, olive oil, flavored vinegars, spreads, you get the idea. Sadly, those freebie samplers that we have all enjoyed for years through the generosity of the vendors, are no longer being doled out. It seems that Covid has out paid to such communal delights. So round and round we went as we tried to find a free pocket of space absent of humanity--but we were much disappointed. In the end, we decided to get away from the crazy queues at every stall (although the offerings were tempting) and get a pizza in a proper sit-down sort of place so that we could actually catch up as I was seeing Lawrence after a while.

    We ended up at Franco Manca for designer pizzas and cider and a lovely long catch up. But I had my eye on the time as I had another meeting fixed up at Trafalgar Square with another friend at 2.30. I called him and told him it would be 3pm instead. Pizzas consumed, we took a few pictures outside Southwark Cathedral and then I moved on.

Off to Trafalgar Square:

    I took a bus that crossed Southwark Bridge (another gorgeous day--so got some more gorgeous pictures) and was at Trafalgar Square (after changing buses outside St. Paul's Cathedral) at 3.00 pm. Himadri Chatterjee is my new Twitter friend--someone I have been following for over a year. He is extraordinarily well-read (a big fan of Dickens and Tolstoy). Dickens brought us together through his many tweets on Bleak House and Great Expectations. He is also thoroughly versed in Western classical music and his knowledge is simply stunning. We hit it off immediately, for the first time in person, and made our way to Cafe Nero at Haymarket where he treated me to a decaff Americano and much information about himself and his family. We enjoyed getting to know each other better as the world went by. As we sat outside, it was the perfect place to people-watch and that was exactly what we did.

    More than an hour later, we were ready to move on--he had a concert to attend at Finsbury in which his son was playing the trombone in Dvorak's works and I was meeting two more friends at St. Martin's Lane. Himadri thought it would be a good idea if we cut through Cecil Court to get there as it is crammed full of antiquated book shops and antiques dealers. I have, in the oast, particularly loved browsing through the shop of Mark Sullivan who has the most carefully curated collection of small antiques. There are record shops, coin shops, antique maps and the like on this one street and it was a visual treat for both of us.

Drinks with Still More Twitter Friends:

    Himadri bid me goodbye outside Notes, the coffee shop that my Twitter friends Scarlett and Catherine, chose for our meeting. Scarlett was going to see the 7.00 pm show of My Fair Lady and I had a plan right after that to get to Paddington to pick up my down jacket that I had left behind, by mistake, in my friend's friend's flat in the suitcase I had left with him.

    We had a lovely reunion indeed. Both of us arrived together and on time and in a far corner of the coffee shop, away from the hustle and bustle of the place, we sat down for a long chinwag. I learned a lot abut the manner in which they conduct their blogs--both cultural, both a round-up of all that London has to offer. Scarlett focuses on London, Catherine on the UK overall. They were keen to find out what the nature of my work in London was all about and I told them about my talk at NYU and my current research at the British Library on British traveling drama troupes in Bombay in colonial times. It was all very interesting indeed. We had ginger fizz drinks (the more to settle my rather dodgy stomach, at the moment), but nothin to eat as I had yet to digest the designer pizza and had some of it in a doggie bag! It was almost two hours later, when we parted--first Catherine and then Scarlett. Indeed, I thoroughly enjoyed my meeting with them.

 Off to Paddington:

    So then off to Paddington I went as daylight began to fade slowly in London. I took the Jubilee line from Charing Cross and got off at Paddington from where I made my way to my friend's flat at Southwick Street. I did not stay long as all I wanted to do was pick up my jacket (which I did). I then retraced my steps back to Paddington, but instead of taking the Tube, I took a bus (simply the best way to get re-acquainted with all the city's nooks and crannies). I hopped off at Southampton Row and then jumped into a 38 for just one stop. A few minutes later, I was in my hotel room and watching some TV. 

    About an hour later, I actually felt hungry and ate the rest of my pizza with a cup of soup with tiramisu for dessert. It had been a less hectic day--punctuated more by meetings with friends than any sight-seeing. But it was full and fulfilling, nevertheless, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

    Until tomorrow, cheerio... 

      

        

A Brand-New First Full Day in London Could Not Have Been Lovelier

 A Brand-New First Full Day in London Could Not Have Been Lovelier

London

Friday, May 6, 2022

First Full English Brekkie of this Trip:   

 I awoke to a brand-new day in my favorite city. What can be more gratifying than to know you have a whole day ahead of you to spend as you wish in the city of your fondest memories? So, I did not waste too much time on my phone. I got cracking right away--a shower in a very spacious, spotless bathroom, set me off for the day. I dressed in layers and carried my hoodie and made my way to the hotel's restaurant for brekkie. Needless to say, I would be treating myself to a Full English.

    The restaurant was almost empty when I arrived there at 7.15 am. The buffet was vast and substantial and I began with muesli with cold milk, a helping of berries and a cup of decaff coffee. Next, I ate a croissant and a pain au chocolate. And I finished with the hot buffet--scrambled eggs, 1 rasher of bacon, 1 sausage, baked beans, grilled mushrooms, grilled tomato, 1 hash brown. Yes, I was fueling up for the day and would probably not eat again until 4.00 pm. This has been my tried-and-tested strategy when in the UK and it always works for me like a dream.

Doing Basic First 'Chores':

    I returned to my room to pick up the items I needed for the day when I would, first of all, attend to all 'chores' I undertake as soon as I arrive in London. No sooner did I step out than I realized I had been blessed with a gorgeous day! London was brisk and sunny and offered a perfect day for exploration on my feet. I went straight across to Holborn Station to use the machine to top-up my Oyster card (which I did carry with me) with a week's unlimited use of Tube trains and buses. This weekly pass has also gone up in price from 27 pounds when I last bought it to 32 pounds. Still, it makes great value for me and I am a devoted fan. That done, I crossed the street to Sainsbury (which was almost empty) to buy a Lebara SIM card so that I could have online and phone service for the next one month. Sadly, they had run out of Lebara and directed me to the next block, past Southampton Street and Sicilian Avenue. There, I did indeed find a card that offered 10 GB, 100 international calling minutes, unlimited local UK texts and calls for just 10 pounds--the miracles of modern telecommunication. That new SIM card fitted into my I phone, I immediately called my Dad (I had texted his Man Friday earlier to inform him about my safe landing) and spoke to him and my brother for a few minutes, before I decided to get ahead with my day.

First Port of Call--The British Library:

    I hopped into a bus immediately that was headed to King's Cross and within ten minutes, I was at the imposing gates of the British Library--another second home in London. I did not have an appointment to renew my library membership which had expired in the lean years of Covid non-travel, but was accommodated anyway as there is almost no one renewing at this time. A few minutes later, I was in the room I know so well, getting logged on using my own username and password and presto, within a few minutes, I was seated with an assistant who checked out my two forms of picture ID (my passport and US driver's license), my picture was taken and I was presented with a brand-new membership card. If only everything in life were as trouble-free! 

    I did not lose any time getting to the third floor where the Africa and Asia section is located and where the records of the India Office from the 1600s till 1947 are now located. This has also been my second home and the space responsible for at least one book and many scholarly articles I have published. Using the computers there in that section, while gazed upon a clutch of splendidly-clad, oil-painted Indian maharajas, I identified the items I need to be brought out for me to facilitate the current research I am doing on Western Performing Arts in Bombay, particularly Drama in British colonial times. I am eager to find out which traveling theatre groups from London performed at the port of Bombay and what exactly their program offerings were. This material will be made available to me shortly and I an also access it online with my membership. Membership renewed and material requested, I used the restroom only to be charmed by the fact that, despite Covid, institutions such as the British Library are still using rolls of cloth towels. I suppose they are curtailing paper usage and aiding the environment.

Perusing the Treasures of the British Library:

    Next, I made my way to the first floor where I always go and take a peek at the permanent exhibition that is entitled "Treasures of the British Library". In fact, I rarely leave London without feasting my eyes on the incredible collection of this dimly-lit gallery as there are items that take my breath away and others that I see, for the first time, whenever I visit. This time, it was the personal diaries and notebooks of the late Black Atlantic novelist Andrea Levy who passed away in 2019 and whom I'd had the privilege of meeting in 2009.  This bequest is one of the latest in the Library and I almost teared up when I realized I was looking at museum pieces of someone I actually knew and whose work I deeply admire. Her Small Island is one of my favorite novels of all time. 

    Among the other Treasures of the British Library that caught my fancy this time round were:

1. Mozart's composition 'God Is My Refuge' composed in 1765 when he was 9 years old and living with his family in England for 3 years.

2. A letter from Jane Austen to her brother Frank placed on her own mobile writing desk.

3. An extract from Charles Dickens' first draft of The Pickwick Papers.

4. Lyrics from 'A Hard Day's Night' and 'Michelle', hand written by John Lennon and Paul McCartney in a section entitled The Beatles.

5.  Le Corbusier's original plan for the design and construction of Chandigarh, capital of the Punjab, India.

6.  The Diamond Sutra in Chinese--the world's first-known novel created using text and images in the form of wood blocks.

7.  A page from a notebook maintained by Michelangelo with a rough sketch on it.

8. The First Folio of 1623 of the Complete Works of Shakespeare published by Hemmings and Condell.

9. A handwritten letter from M.K. Gandhi to Lord Irwin, then Viceroy of India, complaining about the British attitude towards non-violent protest among Indian peasants to the defiance of the ban on making salt privately. Brought tears to my eyes. 

10. Loads of terrific medieval manuscripts that were created and decorated my monks in their abbeys. They became the private prayer books of royalty. 

    On my way out of the Library, I stopped by to see the Samuel Tapling Collection of stamps that forms the bulks of the Philatelic permanent exhibition. I also browsed around the gift shop but did not find anything to grab my fancy.

In the Renaissance Hotel at King's Cross:

    Since I was close to King's Cross and would actually be passing by the Renaissance Hotel, I stopped inside to catch a glimpse of one of London's best-kept secrets: the gorgeous imposing staircase that winds around to the painted rooftop. This secret stairwell is papered in crimson that sports gold fleur de lys designs, has dark, black exposed beams, an utterly glorious Arts and Crafts-style patterned carpet (in the manner of William Morris' designs), lacy wrought-iron supports, a wrought-iron and wooden bannister and Gothic window-frames. This was the original St. Pancras Station which, if you can believe it, was almost razed to the ground and was only saved by the efforts of one of my favorite poets, Sir John Betjeman. It has been brilliantly re-designed to become a five-star hotel, but all the trappings of the erstwhile railway station such as the Ticketing Windows, the Waiting Room, etc, have been retained. As an architectural relic of 19th century London, this is simply one of my favorite buildings of which few people know and fewer still actually come to see. The stairwell and the winding staircase (reminiscent of the main winding staircase in the old Taj Mahal Hotel in Bombay) is a masterpiece of neo-Gothic design.      

Surveying the Offerings at Waitrose: 

    As I knew that there was a large Waitrose just behind King's Cross Station, I walked towards it. I needed to cross Regent's Canal by the handy footbridge. Loads of folk were enjoying the glory of the first of the beautiful spring days in London. As it was almost lunch-time, most people were eating take-away lunches on the Canal's banks where canal boats were still moored, on the opposite side. I found Waitrose, past a sale of food and health-conscious beauty items and cosmetics in the lovely covered market that has been newly-created in the refurbishment of the King's Cross area. I decided to buy a few of my favorite things--yes, all terribly unhealthy for me--a big pack of tiramisu, packets of Ainsley Herriot's Wild Mushroom Soup and Thai Chicken and Lemongrass Soup and a tub of honey yogurt. I was not yet hungry, but part of this would become a lunch-time snack for me as I sat in the covered market and people-watched.  London is simply heaving and it is impossible to believe that we ever had a global pandemic.

I then entered the Underground and walked for quite a while below ground until I arrived at the Piccadilly Line where I decided to get off at Holborn. I needed to get back to my hotel by 2.45 pm as I had two online classes to teach that would take me until 5.00pm.

A Joy Ride on my Favorite London Bus Route--the Number 11:

    When I emerged into the sunlight of Holborn, I realized that I still had about 90 minutes before my first session began. So I crossed the street to Boots to buy myself a pair of clip-on sunglasses (as mine had lost their prongs in Bombay). No deal. I was directed to the big Boots at Tottenham Court Road (from where I had, actually, bought a pair, several years ago). 

Thames and its Bank-side Buildings:

    So I crossed the street, jumped into a bus going to Aldwych from where, as it crossed Westminster Bridge, I had the most magnificent glimpses of the Thames on a brilliant day when the light was just right for pictures. I saw St. Paul's Cathedral, the brutalist architecture of the National Theatre (on the south bank), Hungerford Bridge, The London Eye, Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament, the Cheese-Grater, and was put in mind of Wordsworth's wonderful poem, 'On Crossing Westminster Bridge'. Surely, he would be stunned by the selection of skyscrapers that London can boast.

Free Sight-seeing of Bus No 11:

I would next catch the No 11 bus. This offers a free See-London tour and there can be no better perch than the upper deck, front and center. And so that's what I did and that's the route to which I treat all my visitor-friends to London. We sailed down Fleet Street, arrived at Trafalgar Square from where I caught my first glimpse of one of my favorite places on earth--the National Gallery--glided down Whitehall where I caught sight of the Horse Guards in front of the Parade Grounds, Inigo Jones' masterpiece of architecture at Banqueting Hall, the Cenotaph surrounded by poppy wreaths, the gated entrance of No. 10 Downing Street on a day when the UK went to the polls and Labor had a huge victory trouncing the Tories (I have always said that Kier Starmer--whom I really like--will, one day, be Prime Minister of Great Britain and Northern Ireland). Then, we were on to Parliament Square where I caught my first glimpse of a newly-spiffied up Big Ben Tower, sailed around St. Margaret's Church where Henry VIII married Katherine of Aragon, his first wife, in a long line of six, and on to the front entrance of Westminster Abbey where so many contemporary monarchs have married. At Dean's Yard, on Victoria Road, I got off and crossed the road to get to the other side, so that I could begin my return bus journey home. The bus (24) took ages to come, much to my irritation, but when it did, I got off at Tottenham Court Road and switched to the Tube--only to discover that I walked for miles underground before connecting to the Central Line that took me to Holborn (just one stop away). I might have reached faster if I had walked on the road!

Teaching Two Classes from my Hotel Room:

    I made it in time to teach my first class only to discover that the wifi is terribly unstable in this hotel and I  had the worst reception. Not to be daunted, I coped (as did my students--the first in Lagos, Nigeria, the second in Bombay, India)--once again, I am struck by the miracles of modern technology. Despite the glitches, we ended up having really good, productive sessions and I closed the sessions assuring them assuring my students that I will see them again soon (on zoom).

 Time for a Nap:

    My next appointment was not until 6.30 pm and since I had finished at 5.00 pm I had the time to curl up for one of my legendary naps. I fell asleep promptly and awoke about a half hour later feeling fairly ravenous. I was able to use the kettle in my hotel room to heat water to make myself a cup of soup and consume a chicken sandwich and slice of cake (from my airline trays as they served too much on board) and then quickly got dressed for my next ride. I was going to meet my former student, Tanya, at Chandos Pub at Trafalgar Square at 6.30pm. Refreshed and provided with my second wind, I left my hotel. I took the No 38 bus from Theobald's Road which is just two minutes from the entrance of my hotel and was at Trafalgar Square in a very short time. I found the Chandos Pub (again, one of my regular landmarks when meeting friends) but by the time Tanya turned up, straight from work, about ten minutes later, I was ready for a hot drink--a satisfying decaff latte, not a glass of cider!

Catching up with Tanya in Ole and Steen, a new Danish coffee shop on Charing Cross Road, made time fly by. One of my favorite coffee shops, the Italian Cafe Verganamo has closed down and been taken over by another chain. Tanya had so much to share with me since the last time I met her--when I had taught her class just before the pandemic closed all in-person classes at NYU. I had, in fact, provided her with a reference to grad school and she had been admitted into the University of Cardiff in Wales to get her Master's Degree in Environmental Studies. It was not long before she found a job in London (as she is a Canadian citizen, she can work legally in the UK) and had arrived in London just four months ago when it was bitterly cold. Having grown up in Oman, it has taken her a while to get accustomed to winter in the Western Hemisphere (although she did spend four years getting her undergrad degree in icy New York at NYU). I brought her up to speed on my position and, over a coffee, to which she treated me, we chinwagged for about half an hour before deciding to move on to our next port of call.

Saying Hello to my Favorite Canvases at the National Gallery:

    So, since I know that the National Gallery has late-evening closing (until 9.00 pm) on Fridays, that is traditionally where I have spent my Friday evenings every time I am in London. Other folks were already thronging the pubs as the weekend beckoned, but I was entering the Sainsbury Wing with Tanya and hurrying to the second floor to give her my own personal Highlights Tour of the National Gallery. She had never been to the National Gallery and simply could not believe her good fortune that her introduction to its collection was with me. So here are the items we perused on a whirlwind tour that lasted 90 minutes:

1. The Wilton Diptych

2. Michelangelo's unfinished Entombment of Christ

3. Michelangelo's unfinished Manchester Madonna

4. Ghirlandaio's Virgin and Child

5. Robert Campin's Man and Woman

6. The Arnolfini Marriage by Jan van Eyck

7. Magdalen Reading by Rogier van der Weyden (one of my favorite medieval painters)

8.Venus and Mars by Sandro Botticelli

9. Every painting by Carlo Crivelli including his Demidoff Altarpiece (as he is my favorite Renaissance painter)--many of the canvasses have moved to a special exhibition of his work in Birmingham.      

10.The Battle of San Romano by Paolo Uccelo

11.Saint George and the Dragon by Paolo Uccelo

12. The Baptism of Christ by Piero della Francesca

13. The Family of Darius Meeting Alexander by Veronese

14. Leonardo da Vinci's Virgin of the Rocks

15. Leonardo da Vinci's Burlington House Cartoon

16. An Allegory of Venus and Cupid by Bronzino

17. The Origin of the Milky Way by Tintoretto

18. Bacchus and Ariadne by Titian

19. The Ambassadors by Hans Holbein The Younger

20. Erasmus by Hans Holbein The Younger

21. Christina of Denmark by Hans Holbein

22. The Cartoon of Henry VII and Henry VIII by Holbein

23. Allegory of Venus and Time by Giovanni Batista Tiepolo

24. Velasquez's Toilet of Venus

25. Willem Kalf's Still life with Drinking Horn (which should really be titled 'with Lobster' as it is the dominant, most stunning, item on the canvas)

26. Pieter de Hooch's Courtyard of a House in Delft (my very favorite painting in the National Gallery)

27. Young Woman Seated at a Virginal by Vermeer

28. Young Woman Standing at a Virginal by Vermeer

29. The Equestrian painting of Charles I by Van Dyck

30.  Mr and Mrs. Andrews by Thomas Gainsborough

31. Whistlejacket--the most arresting painting of a horse in the whole world, by George Stubbs

32. The Haywain by John Constable

33. The Fighting Temeraire by Turner

34. The Umbrellas by Renoir

35. Bathers at La Grenouilliere by Monet

36. Water Lillies by Monet

37. Bathers at Asnieres by Seurat (which inspired the musical A Sunday in the Park with George)

38. Sunflowers by Vincent Van Gogh

39.Wheat Field with Cypresses by Van Gogh

40.The Execution of Lady Jane Grey by Paul Delaroche

So there you have it! My Favorite Forty!!!! Tanya was just overwhelmed and lost for words! She has promised me that she will come back to the National, every Saturday she can, and begin to peruse the paintings with the care and time they deserve. 

 End to a Fabulous First Day:

    So, there was nothing more to do, as we were hustled out of the museum by tired guards at 9.00 pm, to wander out on Trafalgar Square and admire the gorgeous beauty of a spring twilight as the light faded on my first day in London. We took a last few pictures together against the lovely backdrop of the Church of St. Martin-in-the Fields and Nelson's Column, as we hugged and kissed and said goodbye. Tanya will be coming to my presentation at NYU on Monday evening when she will bring along another one of my former NYU students who is also working currently in London.

    I jumped into the 29 bus and got off at Tottenham Court Road from where, opposite, Centerpoint, I took a 38 that brought me directly to Theobald's Road, just a few minutes from the entrance to my hotel. 

    It was a day to remember and, believe me, with everything going according to plan, I could not have asked for a better one.

    I hope you will enjoy armchair-traveling with me through the coming month. 

    Until tomorrow, cheerio...      

       

      

    

Here We Go Again...Or In Other Words...London, Here I Come

 Here We Go Again...Or In Other Words...London, Here I Come

Bombay, Thursday, May 5, 2022

    I cannot believe that it has been almost 3 years since I last left London. This city is truly My Happy Place and as soon as my feet hit its soil, I feel as if I have reached my second home. So, you can just imagine the excitement with which I packed and prepared for my month-long travels in the UK. It was an excitement made vastly greater by the fact that Covid had grounded us for so long. Being able to spread my wings, once again, in this glorious city, felt like an incredible gift that I grabbed with both hands after whispering a prayer of gratitude. 

    It did feel odd, to be honest, making arrangements after such a long period of time. Even as I used my credit card to pay for my air-ticket, my hands shook--as one tends to forget the drill. I am not usually the sort of person who does any online shopping and Covid did not make me an online shopper of me either (I have been known, throughout my life, to buck the trend). Hence, even as I had booked tickets, over the previous few days, for trains and the theatre, I was seized with nervousness...indeed, it had been too too long.

    But the day finally dawned--and dawned is the operative word--when I was to be up and away. I had requested Rohit, my Dad's Man Friday, to wake up early (at 6.00 am) with me, to give me a hand with my baggage as I left my apartment and indeed, he obliged. At 6.30am, I left my apartment, called an Uber, had the good fortune to find one in five minutes and was entering a really battered vehicle, for my ride to the airport. It was exactly 6.45 am when I thanked Rohit for his assistance and exactly 7.00 am (if you can believe it), when my Uber was pulling up at Shivaji International Airport in Bombay. I was exactly on schedule as my flight would be leaving at 10.00 am. I had a two-hour flight to Delhi, a two-hour layover in the capital, followed by a 9-hour flight to London. I was ready for the long haul. 

    A word about my suitcases and what I was carrying: I had two suitcases (miraculously, my ticket permitted 2 suitcases although I was not crossing the Atlantic) and a carry-on. However, one of my suitcases was empty (I will fill it up with all the stuff Llew will be carrying for me from Southport, Connecticut) and so I placed my carry-on bag inside it. I would be dropping this suitcase off at my friend's place in Paddington en route to my hotel as soon as I landed in London. My second suitcase was half-empty because if there is one person on earth who knows how to travel light, it is me. I have exactly 13 pieces of clothing for an entire month!!! Yes, thirteen! Three leggings, 3 shirts, 3 cardigans. I also have a pair of formal black trousers for my presentation, a silk shirt for evenings out, a formal jacket, a down jacket for colder days. I have one pair of shoes (my trusted Dansko clogs), 1 pair of flip-flops to wear at home, 1 pair of PJs, 4 sets of underwear, 3 pairs of socks, 1 pair of pantyhose, 2 pairs of knee-highs. And that is it, on the clothing front...   

    All went well with check-in. The traffic assistant was kind enough to oblige me with my seat choices. I requested window seats on both sectors, but he could only give me one (Delhi to London). From Bombay to Delhi, I had an aisle seat. And after boarding our flight on schedule at 10.00 am, for some weird reason, we were held up on the tarmac and ended up taking off 40 minutes later. I was a wee bit worried as I did have a connecting flight...but I was certain my flight to Delhi would be held up until this flight arrived, as I was flying with the same carrier on both sectors.

    I had the most brilliant first sector flight as the lady seated besides me, with whom I promptly made friends, was superb company. Sonia turned out to have so much in common with me including having left the US to return to live in Bombay. She'd worked at the World Bank for several years, had a stint as an investment banker and was happy to give it all up when she made the decision to return to her roots. We gabbed non-stop all the way to Delhi where she introduced me to her daughter, Anushka. We parted, as she deplaned at Delhi, with the assurance that we would most certainly stay in touch once I returned to Bombay.

    It was a bit hairy making my connection--we were only 3 passengers proceeding to London and Air-India took care to escort us to our connecting gate. However, we had to clear immigration and security in Delhi as we were switching from a domestic to an international flight. All formalities done, I boarded the second aircraft and excitedly took my window seat, only to discover to my huge disappointment, that I was seated right on the wing. Of course, this meant that my line of vision of the earth passing below, was severely curtailed...but I was grateful to have a window anyway for (as regular readers of this blog know), nothing gives me greater delight than viewing our world from 35,000 feet above mean sea level. Also, thankfully, the middle seat on a three-seater set, remained empty throughout the flight. This gave me (and the lady seated at the far end) a chance to raise our legs, stretch, etc. and make ourselves more comfortable. I have to admit that seated in a tiny seat for 9 hours at a stretch, has long lost its appeal for me...

    The flight could not have been more comfortable. I watched two movies: Mamma Mia (for the second time, but it simply never gets old) and The Mule, starring Clint Eastwood and Bradley Cooper that was wonderful. I had downloaded a bunch of my favorite magazines and novels on to my Ipad, but to my enormous disappointment, without a network connection, I was unable to open them. I slept in short bursts about three times on the flight, kicked back with a G&T and enjoyed Indian non-veg meals (lunch and a snack service) throughout. As I always do on long-haul flights, I got out of my seat every two hours, walked up and down the aisle, did a series of stretching exercises and occasionally peeped out of the window. We were above the cloud line for almost the entire flight but I did spy the snow-tipped Alps at one point while over Europe. We had almost no turbulence at all through an extraordinarily smooth flight.

    Touch down in London was equally smooth. As always, my first sighting of the Thames provides perspective and I knew exactly where I was when I spied Hammsersmith Bridge from above. From then on, I cursed the fact that I was above the wing as we flew directly above London which just happened to be cloudless. I spotted all the major landmarks from on high as it was just shy of 6.30 pm and London was still bathed in bright daylight: the London Eye, Canary Wharf, the Walkie-Talkie, the Shard...in the distance, the Oval Stadium and even further away, Wembley Stadium with its tell-tale arch. I was, as always, almost jumping in my seat with excitement. I was shortly be in my favorite city in the whole world and I could not wait.

    We landed at a distant bay (as is always the case with Air-India) but as all I had was a small, personal backpack (which would do double duty as my pocketbook during my stay), I was carefree as I walked briskly toward Immigration.  I am always grateful for my American passport that hurries me through Immigration in minutes as I do not need to see an immigration officer, but merely go through the electronic machines with the rest of the UK and EU citizens. It was SUCH a privilege as indeed I cleared Immigration in machines and felt sorry for those in the long, winding lines, waiting to be manually questioned and cleared. My first bag came within minutes but, annoyingly, my second one, took its time to arrive. I wheeled them in a cart past the green channel and, voila, I was in the UK once again.

    It was not long before I was buying myself a Heathrow Express train ticket as, on the flight, I had made the decision to take it and cut down travel time into the city. Taking a black cab directly would mean sitting in traffic for more than an hour (especially around Chiswick where my cab has always been stuck) and I had already been on the road (as it were) for 13 hours. I was still as fresh as a daisy, but I did want to get to my hotel as quickly as I could manage it. I was shocked to find that the Heathrow Express ticket has soared in price from 15 pounds (the last time I had paid for it) to 25 pounds! In fact, as I soon found out, everything has escalated in price in London, in the post-Covid era. Using the directions marked 'Trains to London" (not Underground), I arrived at the spiffy new platform, boarded the spiffy Heathrow Express train and was at Paddington in exactly 15 minutes. From there, I wheeled my two suitcases with backpack on my back, to the taxi stand and took my first black cab of this trip to Southwick Street, just outside Paddington Station, where my friend Bande lives. The cab driver turned out to be a real darling--a young 'un of about 30 who could not keep his mouth shut! Except that I could barely follow his Cockney accent and kept guessing half of what he said to me. 

    We were at my friend's building in about five minutes, he came down to his lobby when the doorman called for him, we had a brief reunion as he relieved me of my suitcase and I re-entered my cab. Only later would I realize that the one thing I had packed in my empty suitcase was my down jacket! I would need to return to his place to pick it up just in case London got too damply cold. As it was, the black hoodie I wore was more than adequate and I was extremely relieved to get out of the sauna bath which had been Bombay, on my departure, to the delightfully temperate, spring weather of London.

    About twenty minutes later, with some traffic at Marylebon and Euston ( as expected), we were pulling up outside my hotel in Holborn, I paid the cabbie using my credit card and was checking into my room. It was clean, indeed quite spotless, offered free wifi to which I connected all my devices, called Llew in the US to tell him I had arrived safely, texted Chriselle and a few others, brushed and flossed my teeth and  readied myself for bed. It had been a most complicated journey to my home for the next nine nights, but every aspect of it had gone accordingly to plan and I was not an unhappy camper.

    Until tomorrow, cheerio...