Liesel was good enough to drive Neil, Buzz and Andi to CostCo. This was seen as an exciting day out for Neil and Buzz, but, what a shame, there wasn’t enough room in the car for me, and, just in case they found space, I hid under the bed until they’d left.
So I had a pretty late start to the day, reading about Storms Austen and Boelo, not quite believing their ferocity as I looked out on just a normal, rainy but otherwise calm day.
In the olden days, on London Underground, the announcement ‘Mind the Gap’ was thought quite adequate. Now, for some reason, they have to be more specific: ‘Mind the Gap between your two front teeth’ or some such nonsense. Nearly as bad as ‘See it, say it, sorted’.
As it was raining, I stayed underground for as long as possible before venturing out again into the real world. I was glad to have brought a book with me to read. And I was delighted to be reminded of Poems on the Underground. Especially as the one I sat opposite was this beauty:
I disembarked at Charing Cross, and chose the longest tunnel before emerging onto The Strand. My plan was to visit The National Gallery, via Trafalgar Square. The solitary pigeon reminded me that once upon a time, there were thousands of the blighters here, being fed by us visitors.
And then I saw her. The Lady in Blue. This is the 16th and latest commission in the Mayor of London’s Fourth Plinth Programme.
Lady in Blue pays homage to a young, metropolitan woman – a quotidian figure – reflecting many of today’s Londoners.
The work was inspired by a desire to bring a contemporary ‘everywoman’ to Trafalgar Square. Made of bronze, her dress painted a vibrant blue, the figure’s accessories replicate lapis lazuli. This rare and prized rock has been used as a pigment since ancient times.
Lady in Blue is a woman that many can relate to. She is not an idol to revere or a historic figurehead to commemorate. She is a woman striding forward into our collective future with ambition and purpose. She is a Londoner, who represents the city’s spirit.
So says the descriptive plaque. She is eye-catching and adorable, you feel to have to walk around and look at her from every angle. I think I would have done so even if it were still precipitating as hard as it was earlier, but it had eased off to a light drizzle.
Inside the National Gallery, I wrung my bag out so it could be searched. Then headed for the main galleries. It was quite busy today, lots of young people, which is always good to see.
Another picture by Canaletto was nearby: The Stonemason’s Yard. I couldn’t approach this one so closely, because someone was sitting there, painting a copy of the artwork. Maybe I should have grassed her up to an attendant, but instead, I joined everyone else in admiring her skills.
Probably the most famous painting I saw on this occasion was John Constable’s The Hay Wain. Which, by coincidence, came up in conversation later in the day!
The rain returned before I left the Gallery. But before I departed, I couldn’t resist capturing this sight through the window, three for the price of one.
And then I realised: I could have been getting my steps in at CostCo, all this time! But I think I had the better deal.
Later on in the evening, I stayed in with Leslie while Liesel went into town to meet up with her lovely friend Rosie. Somewhere in Harley Street, I believe. A bit of a pub crawl, I suspect…
For reasons which don’t really matter, I had to return to Liverpool Street the next morning. From there, I caught a bus to London Bridge. Yes, of course, it was still raining.
Yeah, look at that gorgeous blue sky!
I couldn’t resist the temptation to spend some time in Borough Market. Liesel would have liked that too. But where was she? She was having a reunion with some of her chums from her former employer, Downs. On this occasion, they were meeting up at Painshill Park, a big Garden in Cobham.
The ladies from Downs and some of their better halves had a good walk around the gardens, despite the wind and the rain. When talking about it later, Liesel and I wondered why we’d never visited when we lived just up the road, in Chessington?
There’s a Chinese Bridge here, too: compare it with the one we saw at Biddulph Grange a couple of weeks ago.
So while they were having fun in Cobham, I was buying myself lunch in Borough Market: a pretzel. It was far too big for me to scoff in one go, so I finished it for breakfast the following day. One of Liesel’s favourite delicacies is Bienenstich, so I bought some for her. On previous visits, Liesel’s taken her own tupperware, and the guy came to recognise her and knew exactly what she wanted.
Today, I wasn’t so well prepared, so I had to carry my slice of ‘German dessert cake made of a sweet yeast dough with a baked-on topping of caramelised almonds and filled with vanilla custard’ home in the supplied paper bag. It risked being squished in my bag. And getting wet.
Look how happy everyone is in this weather. But it’s an amusing signboard, I thought.
Probably my favourite walk in London is along the South Bank, ideally on a nice, sunny day, and I usually start at the Waterloo end. Today, I was walking from London Bridge towards Waterloo, ducking into shelter whenever the opportunity arose. I noticed the river was quite high today, a few boats, including Uber Boat by Thames Clippers, a service that I didn’t require this time.
I wrung my bag out again so it could be searched as I went into Tate Modern.
I didn’t go down into the Turbine Room, my main mission was to make use of the facilities. But according to the blurb: You can hear with your eyes. You can hear with your fingers, your teeth, your bones, your body – Tarek Atoui.
For the Hyundai Commission, Tarek Atoui transforms the Turbine Hall into a sonic landscape connecting earth and sky. Bringing ancient families of instruments into dialogue with electronic technologies, Hyundai Commission: Tarek Atoui: Hold builds on decades of collaboration with artisans, researchers, engineers and musicians from around the world. Inspired by its acoustic and atmospheric properties, Atoui imagines the Turbine Hall as a vessel that resonates. So says the sign.
The queue here for coffee was too long, so I carried on my jaunt towards Waterloo.
The powerful, raw sculpture, weighing about two tonnes, reflects Tracey’s personal health journey and battle with bladder cancer.
And a bit further along, near Blackfriars Station, there’s a fantastic mural.
Look out, I might appear as an extra in a film or an advert or something. Filming was taking place near the Thames Beach. Big blocks of ice were involved. I walked by a couple of times, gurning for any cameras that might be pointing my way.
I did not have any queeries to send to that email address.
Pigeons, crows, a few sparrows, and unexpectedly, just looking sorry for themselves in the rain, a couple of these beauties.
After a quick return to our cottage to pick up the keys which I’d left behind by mistake, I made my way to Surbiton. It’s been a while since I’ve caught that train from Waterloo station, and I was ridiculously nervous that I might miss my stop and end up in Basingstoke.
A quick walk across the road, in the rain, grrr, and I met Liesel and Leslie in our old favourite Surbiton restaurant, Allegro. Helen and Steve joined us later and we had a good catch-up. Amongst other adventures, they’d visited Flatford Mill in Suffolk, very close to the location of the aformentioned Hay Wain painting. It was a busy place tonight, very popular. And the food was alright too.
We’ve been using Google Maps for a few years, for better or worse, but tonight, Liesel decided to try Apple Maps. The first thing it said was ‘Proceed to the route’.
Uh? I thought that was your job, to navigate us. Surely the route starts right here, wherever we are? Once we got going though, it efficiently navigated us back to our cottage at the riding school in Ealing. It was still raining as I got out of the car to open the gate. The gate was padlocked. Our host had promised that the gate would appear to be locked, but that it wouldn’t really be. But it was. Grrr. No worries, we’ll just text our host and she’ll send someone out. We later found out that she didn’t even see the message until the following morning. Let’s try Airbnb Support, we thought, maybe they have a special hotline to the host.
<grumpy mode=on> Airbnb Support must be amongst the most useless customer support teams ever devised. Liesel made the booking, so the ‘customer support assistant’ would only speak to Liesel, even though I was calling from Liesel’s phone, was named on the booking, and had all the details. Liesel was taking care of her Mom in the cottage, having walked around the gate. Then, after a lot of time waiting on the phone so that Liesel could speak to someone else, they said they couldn’t contact the host now, because it was after 11pm. Well, if you’d spoken to me an hour ago, and contacted them then, we might have received assistance by now. So glad it wasn’t a real emergency, just annoying, having the car outside a locked gate, on a busy road, in the dark, in the pouring rain. Grrr. <grumpymode=off>
In the end, we drove round and found parking on a nearby street, from where, yes, we had to walk back again in the rain.
I gave the Beinenstich to Liesel, it had survived the travails of the day, she had a bite and decided it was the following day’s breakfast.
And relax… Still, it’s an adventure, right?
