Not So Local

A proper good morning to you
Samuel Johnson famously said, “When a man is tired of London he is tired of life, for in London there is all that life can afford.” Well I am tired of neither London nor life, but I have to confess—as much as I loved the art yesterday—that I am very tired of the crowds and concrete. Time to whip out the Oyster Card.
As I was getting groceries this morning I was trying to put my finger on the contrast between London and Paris and Vienna. I like what is in London. I do not enjoy the city for itself as I did with Paris and Vienna. Because? Well, I am not sure. London seems to go awfully fast. People are in a hurry.
Here are some rules of the road. What the light says does not matter. If no traffic is coming—cross even if the light is red. I laughed inwardly the other day at some tourists standing at a Zebra Crossing waiting for traffic to stop. It won’t—unless you step into the street. On tube escalators, stand on the right because there are people who actually run up and down these vertigo-inducing ramps.
So I don’t know. There was plenty of traffic in Paris and some ugly parts. too. I didn’t see any ugly parts of Vienna. I’ll keep thinking about it, but the punch line is that today I felt I needed to get out of town.
I hopped the Central Line from Holborn and transferred to the District line at Bank—that’s of England. Then there was a long ride out to the suburbs. I got out at Chiswick Park because I wanted to return to Chiswick House. But it is a fair step from the station to the House and although I was aware of the general direction, I was uncertain of the particulars. I got a nice walk through a fairly posh suburb though. I asked directions but people 1) were not familiar with the area 2) didn’t speak English. Finally—and I was nearly there at this point—I found someone to point me in the right direction.
I strolled through the gorgeous park. Birds chirped and the air freshened.
Some function was going on, but I still got to see the house—a Palladian gem designed by the Earl of Burlington and his sidekick William Kent—that I fiercely covet. The place was derided as too small for a nobleman’s house, but that makes it just right for me and my guests because I would invite you. Think pastel paint or richly colored velvet walls. Big Venetian windows are paired with large mirrors to create more light. Everywhere elegance vies with exquisite taste. The visit was accompanied by period music by guys like Handel and Vivaldi. Ahhhh.
And then there is the park, so lush and thickly planted. It looked and smelled green, but here and there were lovely flower beds. My favorite featured delicate blossoms that had trailing “swallow tails” underneath the flowers. They came in creamy yellow, a combo with white and puce, and periwinkle blue.
I took the rustic paths under the trees, and it felt like a woodland walk. There are obelisks and an “Italian” bridge, and plentiful ducks and even swans in the lake.
For those seeking refreshment, a café provides lunches and teas.
But we have to tear ourselves away from this idyllic spot. The plan is to walk back a fair way to London along the Thames. I knew the general direction to go in and then signs appeared, and one cannot miss the river.
So on one side, see the Thames or riverside gardens and on the other side swank villas or Victorian row houses. It’s a peaceful stroll so we don’t mind the distance. If you need refreshment there are some riverside pubs, but we see the target in the distance—Hammersmith Bridge.
Hammersmith, where we turn aside from the Thames is not the hellhole it used to be. There are some nice Victorian neighborhoods, and the nastiness and graffiti have been cleaned up by gentrification. But I do want to ask some architects: Did you really mean to put up such an ugly building? No don’t tell me form follows function. I get that. I don’t get the hideous excrescences that have no function. But here we are at the tube station, so let’s go home to Holborn. After the ride, I felt rested enough to walk up Southampton Row to a French style patisserie for some sugary naughtiness. Lemon tarte for desert!
But before that I am eating Indian. This time it's generic Indian which is very popular in the UK but it is good. I had vegetable samosas flaky and not too spicy and I'm looking forward to some chicken korma for my main course.
Cherrio!