‘When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life’. ‘London is a modern Babylon’. ‘A bad day in London is still better than a good day anywhere else’. ‘Nothing is certain in London but expense’. ‘London is the place for me’. Most of the quotes could have been produced by the London Tourist Board of course, but that doesn’t mean they’re not true. The last one in particular is a great song by Lord Kitchener which always deserves a listen.
Anyway, we spent a most enjoyable week in London. We decided to drive since this was cheaper and more convenient than going by train. The journey was uneventful: in fact, almost unbelievably, we encountered no roadworks on the M6. Zero. Does that mean they’ve finished it at last?
One thing I did notice on the three and a bit hour long drive though was just how many illegal number plates there are now. I suspect most of these are so the driver can avoid detection by speed and ANPR cameras. Yep, we haven’t even reached the capital city yet and I feel the need for a bit of a whinge.
We were able to check in to our accommodation for the week nice and early. Ealing Riding School is a bit off our usual beaten track, but we thought a bit of horse-riding would be fun. Well, actually, no. Liesel hasn’t ridden a horse for about 25 years and I’ve not been on top of one for 65 years.
Mum and Dad took Pauline and me to the Epsom races a few times, including when I was 6 years old. I was given the opportunity to sit on a horse, way up there. I was extremely reluctant. Just hold onto its mane, they said. Well, I know what it feels like to have have my hair pulled, so I didn’t really want to do that. Just relax, they said. What? Up here? Easier said then done. Then, horror of horrors, it started to move. It walked round in a circle while the parentals encouraged me to relax and try not to be so stiff. The relief at being lifted down has lasted a lifetime. And now, at this riding school, seeing horses close up, I still don’t want to be on top of one, about six feet off the ground. It was quite nice chatting to them, though.
So, why Ealing? Jyoti and Rupert are off to Italy for a visit to Rome and a walking tour in and around Vernazza. They decided to spend a couple of days in London, seeing friends who live in Ealing. We met up in a coffee shop, of course before setting off for that major visitor attraction: Southall. This was my first ride on the Elizabeth Line. Only a few stops from Ealing Broadway, but I can now tick that off my bucket list.
Last time I visited Southall was about 50 years ago, for an interview for a job that I assume I didn’t get. The streets felt properly alive, vibrant: sari shops bursting with every colour, especially gold.
The spicey aromas from dhabas and sweet shops mostly won out over the traffic fumes. We heard all kinds of music from the shops and a couple of buskers. Southall shows multicultural London at its best, as close as we’ll see maybe to Blue Mink’s Melting Pot. Busy, busy, busy. I know: it is a bit of a naff song by modern standards.
We noted this restaurant, but we didn’t enjoy its offerings on this occasion. Nor did we visit the nearby Hindu temple.
One thing that I don’t think anyone noticed was that in my bag, I was carrying some scones. Liesel was carrying the clotted cream. This was our gift to Jyoti and Rupert. In return, they presented us with a dozen cans of diced chillies.
In a cute little resaurant, Poornima, unusually, rather than coffee, I chose a masala chai. The ingredients as listed on a blackboard: black tea, cardomom pods, ground black pepper, sugar, ground ginger, cloves, milk and a(n invisible) cinnamon stick. Refreshing is the word. And my samosa chaat was very nice, very tasty.
Back to Ealing where we walked to Jyoti’s friend Kirin’s house. I was surprised how quiet Ealing was, certainly the residential areas that we walked through.
We paid a visit to the Duke of Kent, the pub, not the late Queen Elizabeth’s cousin.
Over a most delightful meal, we chatted about music and about how the roses here in London are in bloom a lot earlier than they are up north, at Dunham Massey, say.
Back at the riding school, I think we were all glad to be able to lie down. As is often the case, we had a bit of a fight with the heating system. How to turn it off in one room, and how to turn it on in another.
Hawaii has an interesting if somewhat sad history. The Hawaiian royal family seemed to have a good relationship with the British royals. Until they sought support from Queen Victoria and her government when the USA decided to invade. UK said, nah, you’re on your own. Which is why, now, Hawaii is the 50th state. Its flag still includes the flag of the United Kingsom though. The exhibition at the British Museum was fascinating, and I noticed that the captions describing the items went to great lengths to emphasise that the artefacts had been legally acquired, donated or lent. Except where something was donated by someone with its earlier provenance beng ‘unknown’. Well, I think we can guess. Hawai’i: A Kingdom Crossing Oceans runs at the British Museum until May 26th.
Kūpe’e hoʻokalakala (bracelet)
Boar tusk, olonā plant fibre
Hawai’i; mokupuni (island) unknown
Possibly collected during Captain Cook’s third voyage (1776-80); documented as part of the British Museum’s collection in the late 1800s.
I’m not an expert in bracelets but I’m fairly certain this must be one of the most uncomfortable ones to wear.
Umi, exhibition co-steward and cultural practitioner based in Hawai’i.
I made the leiomano (shark tooth weapon) as a makana (gift) to the British Museum for inviting our stewardship group Hui Maki’ilohelohe to London to help care for collections here. But I also wanted to add a protective element and energy, those of a kia’i (guardian), for nā akua hulu manu (all the feathered gods). I wanted to bring this protective essence to them in a land so far from home.
Kanaka ‘Õiwi (Native Hawaiian) artist Dennis Kana’e Keawe based this lapaiki (drum) on an ancestral drum displayed earlier in this exhibition. During the Covid-19 pandemic, British Museum staff documented and photographed the original drum to guide Keawe’s work in Hawai’i. He gifted this drum to the Museum, opening a new chapter in the continuing shared stewardship. Milo wood, kapa (barkcloth), shark skin, nylon, fibre, ‘ie’ie aerial root. Made by Dennis Kana’e Keawe in 2020; donated by the artist to the British Museum in 2021.
The captions are from the Museum of course, thank you very much.
For some reason, I used to think that one day, after 100 years or so, Hawaii would be handed back to the UK, in the same way that we gave Hong Kong back to China. I just wish I could remember where that snippet of misinformation came from.
The plan was to go to a gig in Camden, at a favourite venue, in the evening. With this in mind, we booked a meal at a nearby favourite restaurant. At 1pm, I received an email apologising that the gig had been cancelled. Liesel hastily found and booked an alternative show, in Holborn.
I’ve mentioned enshittification before and here was a good example. The email said if I wanted a refund, then just reply. So I did. Only to receive a response that that email address isn’t monitored and my email would be deleted. I found an alternative email address and accused them of being scammers. Not because I thought they were, but I thought such an accusation would at least elicit a response. The revised dates for the gig were unsuitable, so I look forward to receiving the refund soon.
Liesel and Leslie enjoyed afternoon tea for lunch while I had my default: chips and salad.
We paid a visit to the Americas area in the Museum too, to pass the time but also, it had suddenly become much darker outside, a sure sign that there was about to be a torrential downpour.
Dennis Zotigh designed this regalia in the 1970s and wore it for powwows. Powwows draw different tribes together for dance competitions, drumming, and celebrating their shared history and heritage. The best drummers are paid to play for the dancers, who win money. Men, women and youth compete in different types of dances. The men’s Fancy Dance performance is the most dramatic and athletic. Dancers win based on their skills and regalia. Ute beadworker Angie Jacket sewed this regalia. Constantly innovating with new fashions, artists make dance regalia using available ribbons, mirrors, and plastic beads, in addition to feathers, furs and porcupine quills used historically. Kiowa/San Juan Pueblo/Santee Dakota regalia.
After the deluge, we met Jyoti and Rupert, caught a bus to Camden and walked to Mildred’s. This branch of the vegan restaurant chain felt less crowded than the Soho one. The food was, as usual, terrific. We were joined by Lydia, here to study in London, all the way from Anchorage.
After dining, we wandered over to Camden Lock and the market.
Instead of now visiting the Green Note for a show (at least we didn’t have to worry about having to sit on a beer keg because they’d run out of seats!), we caught the bus back to Holborn. Playing at Pizza Express was the Sonia Elisheva Jazz Collective. Sonia was a good performer, but the band were terrific, almost outshining the singer!
Piccadilly Line and District Line trains took us back to Ealing Broadway, and from there, we took a cab back to the Riding School. The outside gate was locked, so we had to crawl underneath it. The inside gate was locked, so we had to climb over it. We’ll never know how undignified we looked on the CCTV footage, which we requested to be destroyed. Also, however hard it was climbing over to get to our accommodation, it would have been much harder climbing over to get out, with a stilen horse over our shoulders. If we were criminally minded.
Later in the week, we learned that we could have just squeezed through the hedge to the side of the outer gate, and in fact, that it wasn’t really locked anyway, it just looks like it. To confuse people.
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