The Journey Home and Some Reflections

 A Proper Good Afternoon to You

I had a smooth trip back. The walk from Holborn to Kings Cross was pretty easy although the sky began to spit, and I'd packed my umbrella. The adventure began once I got to Kings Cross and tried to figure out the elevators. I had to take three separate lifts to three different levels, and then I just missed the train I needed.

Not all trains go to Heathrow. If you need Terminals 2 and 3, you're in luck as all trains to Heathrow stop there, but I needed Terminal 5, so I had to wait twenty minutes for that particular train. It finally came, I got checked in, security made me take off my wrist brace (Grrrr), and I went and had a snack in the lounge because I'd breakfasted early and by noon I was hungry!

I often read or watch reviews of business class products, and sometimes I have to laugh as the reviewers appear fantastically picky. Dude, you're in business class, appreciate it!  Well, now it's my turn to gripe. I was looking forward to having my own little cubicle, and it was nothing of the sort. The seats were in a "herringbone" configuration, and my seat was totally exposed on the aisle--no privacy at all, and the window seat occupant would have to climb over me to use the toilet. No way I was going to get any sleep.

Then. A mother was seated separately from her son, who was very stressed, and she was distressed as a result. A flight attendant asked if I would be willing to move. Of course! I'd done it before to oblige people, and it's not a big deal--and I benefitted because I ended up in a better seat. The mother was absurdly grateful, but seriously, travelers help each other, and I was happy to help.

My new seat had more privacy. I did share it with another woman, but she was helpful and quiet and I did manage to get some sleep.

I enjoyed London and this trip and my trip to Porto restored some of my faith in humanity. When I see the news, I see a lot of gleeful cruelty to people who are different or disadvantaged. Well, I am neither, but I am a little old lady, and I received so much help and kindness on my trips.  I needed it, too, as my wrist is still a bit wonky.  People seemed to go out of their way to look after me. I deeply appreciated it.

So there's good out there and kindness without expecting return. It was a wonderful thing for me to experience.

Cheerio

A Great Day Out at Kensington Palace

 

A Proper Good Afternoon to You

The last time I was here was a crashing disappointment. Someone thought it would be fun to remove all the history and replace it with art installations with cryptic royal themes. I thought the results were a complete waste of time and money, and I was not alone in my opinion! The exhibit was roundly and universally condemned--even by the usually mild mannered Rick Steves.

Today's visit could not have been more different. I am feeling happy and satisfied on my last full day in London. A couple of days ago I booked a scheduled ticket on line, which is something I recommend. I had an easy trip on the Central Line from Holborn to Queensway and then a lovely stroll in Kensington Gardens to the Palace.

Nice leafy and green. Also I sneaked a peak into a private garden near the palace that featured a statue of the late Princess Diana of Wales and her sons. It's hard to see, but it's there.

I got there early, but there was already a queue for us 10:00 entrants. We showed our tickets and went through security, and then it was time for some fun history.  Kensington was chosen and developed as a royal residence by William III and Mary II with the help of Sir Christopher Wren. The palace was also where young Princess Victoria grew up under the heavy hand of her mother, the Duchess of Kent.  Most recently Diana, Princess of Wales and her sons had apartments in the palace.

I began with the Queen's State Apartments. The Queens in question are Mary II and Caroline, the Consort of George II.  Here is their audience chamber.

My favorite thing to visit is period rooms, and I had them in abundance and in various styles. YUM!

I also enjoyed the King's State Apartments. Then I went to look at the display of historic costume where I was exceedingly impressed. Here are some garments belonging to Queen Alexandra, (Long suffering) Consort of Edward VII.

After that I attended an excellent exhibition on Victoria's childhood with some of her clothes and toys and information on how she was groomed as heir to the throne. Charlotte, Princess of Wales, daughter of George IV died in childbirth prompting the King's many brothers to try to sire an heir. Edward, Duke of Kent, had the brains to marry a German Princess of proven fertility. Edward was her second husband and Victoria had an older half brother and sister.  William IV's Queen Adelaide could not carry a child to term, so Victoria was it. She became Queen at age eighteen, dumped her controlling mother, and married her "beautiful" cousin Albert as soon as she could manage. She enjoyed a long, successful reign but left Kensington for Windsor and other residences in Scotland and the Isle of Wight.

I made my way home feeling very fulfilled. For dinner I am having the left over cheese I got from Neal's Yard Dairy. Very tasty indeed.  I will detail my reflections on London and my trip home tomorrow.

Cheerio

Shopping--at the High End

 

A Proper Good Afternoon to You,

I have some tourist action planned for the morrow, but today was cooler and somewhat rainy, so I decided it would be a good shopping day.  I covered a lot of ground, and since it was cooler, I went for fish and chips and was so hungry by the time I got home, I devoured them eagerly. Yumsy!

I don't know how to make shopping seem interesting. I took the tube to Knightsbridge, but we sat at Holborn for several minutes because there was a signal failure down the line. Then a bunch of teenagers on a school trip got on. They weren't bad--just teenagers speaking their own language. The same thing happened on my way back.

My first target was Harrods. Now this store is a genuine London Landmark and tourist attraction in its own right.  The original store was built in 1849, but it burned down, so was replaced in 1905 and is the largest (and probably most expensive!) department store in the world. The Harrods family has long since been replaced as owners. The clientele reads like a volume of Who's Who and includes the occasional member of various Royal Families.

It's fun to walk around. While the displays are beautiful, I don't feel right about taking photos in stores, so you'll have to be content with the shot of Green Park above. I did buy some things--shaking my head at the prices.  I cruised around some displays of luxury brands and squirted myself with some perfume calling itself Rude Cherry. I could not resist, but then I didn't like it--and later on when the scent matured--I didn't like it. I still don't like it. It smells like stale cough syrup.

Once I had enough of Harrods I tubed to Green Park which is the stop for Fortnum and Masons--a store I like better than Harrods because although their prices are just as painful, they have better tea, and it's a bit less crowded.

But I was tired and hungry and I had one last mission, which was to obtain my last dose of fish and chips for this trip. The sky began to spit when I existed the tube, but it did not get so bad I had to use my umbrella, which as an experienced European traveler I always carry.

Cheerio!

The Tate Britain

 

A Proper Good Morning to You

There are some ominous looking clouds, and rain is in the forecast for tomorrow, but today is still warmish.

After a quick trip to the grocery store, I took the Piccadilly Line to Green Park where I maneuvered through the long tunnels and up and down stairs to transfer to the Victoria Line. A few stops took me to Pimlico where I alighted for my visit to the Tate Britain. I had a pleasant stroll through a semi posh neighborhood and arrived at the museum just before it opened. My arrival coincided with the arrival of a huge school group, but I'm happy to say that that was the last I saw of them.

I discovered that I'd neglected to charge my phone, so I took only the one photo, even though I saw a lot of wonderful paintings. There is truth in advertising. The Tate exhibits exclusively British Artists and is rather a project. I confess I did not cover it all. I was there for Turner and Constable, but I saw plenty of other artists.

But let's begin with JMW Turner.  The Tate Britain is where you go to see the best and most extensive exhibit of his works. He could pretty much paint anything, but landscape is where his heart and greatest talent lay. He disliked painting people, but in his early works, he felt obliged to dress up his landscapes with historic or mythological themes, so they do include figures--frankly looking like undefferentiated props. These works brought him early critical and financial success.

Turner continued to invent himself, and his later works seek to portray the power of nature though water, wind, and atmosphere.  Like many other Romantic Painters, he considered himself a natural scientist, but his works also have a visionary quality.

I admire Turner, but I love Constable, his great (and less successful) rival. John Constable also painted landscapes, but his preferred subject was the green and gentle river country of East Anglia. He painted fields, ferries, mills with great accuracy. He portrayed plants, and weather with scientific rigor. The result gives us a glimpse into pre industrial England with its beauty and occasional roughness. Ironically Constable achieved recognition first in France, where the fresh green of his landscapes were much relished.

This is the place to come if you like the Romantics or the Pre Raphaelites, both of which I enjoyed. I'm less keen on the Victorians and Modern British Art, but I was extremely pleased to see a lot of women artists represented. I had never heard of these women before, but I appreciated their talent and insight into humanity.

I had a longish walk back to the tube and then the ride back. When I got on the Piccadilly Line, a nice young man offered me his seat, which I gratefully accepted. Yep. I am a rather obvious Little Old Lady, and sometimes I take advantage of the fact.

Cheerio!

Covent Garden

 

A Proper Good Afternoon to You

It was a nice, cool Sunday Morning. I have been touristing pretty hard, so I wanted to give myself an easy day. A stroll around Covent Garden seemed to fit the bill, and I wouldn't even have to take the tube.

Yeah, right. You just wanted an excuse to visit Neal Yard's Dairy,

You're on to me, but first I did something touristy by visiting the London Transport Museum. It's not huge, but the exhibits are fun and educational. Some are interactive.  The museum covers the first horse drawn busses and trams, city railroads, and the construction of the London Underground.

This is the ground floor, but there are more goodies upstairs. A visitor can climb in and sit in some of them.

Covent Garden is a big tourist draw on weekends with plenty of places to eat and drink and opportunities for luxury retain therapy. Apart from the Piazza, many of the streets are pedestrianized and have interesting shops to entice the throngs of visitors.  I confess to being tempted by the chocolate.

The name comes from the fact that this was once the site of a convent with its attendant garden. Ironically once the area was acquired by the Earl of Bedford, despite his plans to make the area a posh residential area and market, it soon became a hot bed of vice.  Disreputable clubs found a home there as well as a distressing number of prostitutes serving the after theatre crowd.

Let us leave such unpleasant associations behind as we repair to Shorts Gardens and the Neal Yard's Dairy. The charming young man who helped me was very generous with samples, and I came away with some goat cheese and cheddar. I paid plenty for it, too.

But I can't have it yet. I'm down stairs because my room is due to be cleaned. But I have my lap top and can watch the Tour.

Cheerio!

Tate Modern

 

A Proper Good Afternoon to You

I took some recycling out and got a grocery or two. Then I tubed out to St. Paul. Now I could have walked, but it's another hot day--although not as bad as yesterday, and I have been active enough.

You can see my target above--the Tate Modern occupying an old power station across the Thames. On my way I took a slight detour because I came across a road named Watling Street. St. Paul's is in heart of the actual City of London (Where I am is technically Camden), which was a Roman foundation, and when the Saxons arrived they called the Roman road north out of the City The Watling Street, which was their nickname for the Milky Way.

I made my way to the river and crossed via the Millennium Bridge. Even if you don't want to go to the Tate Modern or the New Globe Theatre next door, crossing the bridge is worth it. See?

I arrived just as the museum opened and breezed through security. The main part is free, but special exhibitions require tickets.  There's plenty of space, and I did not feel crowded despite the presence of school groups.

I will be frank. My knowledge of art is solid only up until the Early Twentieth Century. I do not know much about contemporary art. It's like a lot of things. I appreciate some of it. Some leaves me cold.  But the Tate also features well known names of Modern Art: Picasso, Rothko, Matisse, Mondrian, and a host of others, which I enjoyed. I find the works of Kasimir Malkovich very compelling, but I'm afraid if you google him, you'll think I'm nuts.

Too late, Pil. We already think you're nuts. I mean who gets excited about Old Roman Roads and bike races?

Here's one of my favorite works: Umberto Boccioni's Unique Forms of Continuity in Space.

Uh. Ok

It's a wonderful example of Futurist Simultaneity. Think of a photo with multiple exposures of a man taking a step forward and showing every movement all at once. Since it's bronze there are multiple copies. Paris has one, and I believe New York does as well.

Having got my fill of art, I recrossed the bridge. Here's a bonus for you. The dome of St. Paul's Cathedral.

During the Blitz, the German Luftwaffe deliberately targeted the church, believing that if they could destroy the Cathedral of London it would damage British morale. The dome was hit over and over--and the bombs bounced off. Yes, St. Paul's was damaged, but stood strong!

Cheerio!

The British Library: Sigh. Another Disappointment

 

A Proper Good Morning to You

I came back pretty early because today is the hottest day of my trip. I promised myself an easy day, which I did have although I did experience some disappointment.

I set off via tube to Kings Cross-St. Pancras. One of my missions was to check out the lift situation.  When I leave for Heathrow I cannot count on kindly Londoners to help with my bags, so my plan is to walk to Kings Cross-St. Pancras, which will take me half an hour and it's flat, where I will take the lifts to the Piccadilly Line and hope to get a train to Terminal 5.

Here's a shot of the St. Pancras Hotel formerly the Midland Hotel, a late Victorian pile that stood empty for decades. What a waste. But then someone bought and restored it, and a friend of mine stayed there, and said it was very nice indeed.

I had a short walk in the heat and traffic to the British Library. It's free and a very nice facility, and thankfully cool and dark inside. I'd been before and really appreciated the extensive exhibit of old manuscripts, printed books, and historical and literary documents.

What happened? The history was very thin in the display cases. For one thing I expected to see the notebooks of Miss Jane Austen's juvenalia entitled volume the first and volume the second as well as some letters and manuscripts from the Inklings. I also missed the various laws and proclamations that punctuated British History. There were a few early Bibles and other illuminated manuscripts. I was not interested in the Beatles.

I did come across this letter to Cassandra from Jane, but that was the only reference to her.

I strolled around the rest of the Library and observed a lot of folks meeting for coffee or working on their laptops, and it is a very nice place for both activities. I had something else in mind.

I have left and arrived from St. Pancras International--home of the Eurostar. It would be a bit more complicated since Brexit, but the traveller can quickly get to Paris, Brussels, or even Amsterdam. More rarely, there is a direct train to the South of France, and I went to Lyon that way. But I wasn't there for the trains, of course, but for the rather posh shopping center catering to the travelers.

There's a very nice branch of Fortnum and Mason, less crowded but no less expensive. But they have a kind of black tea that I really like and that I have run out of, so I exercised my credit card.

Then, I felt I had accomplished my tourist dharma and could go home. I stopped at Pret a Manger for a wrap for lunch and dinner. Before I left I took my olives out of the fridge, so I could have a small apero after I drank my water.

 I watch the Tour de France when I come home and it's full of drama--not all of it good, but you need not worry. I have friends as obsessed with cycling as I am, so I won't bother you.

Cheerio

The British Museum: And Why I Did Not Enjoy My Visit

 

A Proper Good Afternoon to You

Don't get me wrong. I love the British Museum--although (ahem) some methods of acquiring a lot of its contents were dubious. On my many trips to London, it was always a must visit, and I thoroughly enjoyed every one.

But since the Pandemic ended, Britain and Europe have been flooded with tourists from all over the world. Museums in all major cities have instituted a reservation system--no more just showing up unless you want to risk being turned away,  And the British Museum is renowned and its exhibits attract millions of visitors each year--the Egyptian Hall is almost as good as a trip to Cairo. It felt like they were all there at once today!

As my timed ticket was for later in the morning I did a few errands before setting out. I got some skin cream for my aging epidermis, took out some recycling and went grocery shopping. I set out early so I could stroll around and get my steps in.

The British Museum is not far from my home, so I was there very early. I strolled up to Russell Square and moseyed around the park and appreciated the dogs. A small dog appeared to be defending it's family's blanket from some non-existent threats.

I went back to the Museum and found the entrance, showed my ticket and was admitted. No one asked about the time, and I was twenty minutes early. I went through security, which you will find at most museums, and entered. In the photo note the nearly invisible Pride Flag flying over this World Heritage Site.

The place was packed! Clearly no one was paying attention to timed entry. If you had a ticket you were let in as I was.  But whoa--floor to ceiling tourists. I had a hard time getting around. There were some things I wanted to see. I got to see some of them but not very well. Numerous tour and school groups parked themselves in front of the most important objects. People took selfies. They messed with their phones.  They chatted and hung out. I was there for the history, but I did not have much of a chance to enjoy it. Here are some shots I got of the Elgin Marbles. Here are some bas reliefs from the frieze inside the temple.

The "Three Goddesses" (We aren't sure which ones) from one of the Parthenon's pediments.

I'll tell you what. I am unlikely to get to Greece myself, but I wish that the UK would return these to Greece. Whatever excuses the UK makes about keeping the sculptures safe have long since evaporated.

So many people were there, it was hard to move around, and impossible to see a lot of things. Moreover, it was stuffy and hot. I needed to get out.  And to be honest, it was a genuine relief to emerge.

The day was warm, but the forecast is for more heat, so I decided to get more fish and chips. (Hey cod has Omega 3, and chipped potatoes have . . . some nutrition.) It was a short detour on my way home, but I was glad to get back to my air conditioned room to eat and rest.

Cheerio

Kew Gardens

 

A Proper Good Morning to You

To say that Central London is bustling is to make a laughable understatement. Closely packed buildings, crowded sidewalks, traffic punctuated by honking. It's worth it to come, but it's also worth it to go a bit out of town for some quiet and open space filled with beautiful plant life.

Kew used to be a royal estate beloved of George III and his wife Queen Charlotte, who built a cottage "palace" there among other things. Now it is a world renowned botanical garden and research center and a justly popular tourist destination. Getting there is kind of a pain but worth it. I had to top off my Oyster Card and then set out on a long tube ride.

I took the Piccadilly Line to South Kensington where I transferred to the District Line. Fortunately I found seats on both--and on the return, too, which was great because I had a lot of walking in store.

I alighted at Kew Station and walked down to the Victoria Gate. To my surprise I arrived a few minutes before the Gardens opened and the line to get in was short. I got a discount for being old and set out deliberately walking away from the popular attractions like the Palm House.

One can easily spend the whole day here. There is plenty to see and many places to stop for a meal, snack or drink. I was there midweek, but when I left in the afternoon the park was filling up and there was a significant line to get in. Also when I passed the Treetop Walk on my way back, I heard a lot of shrieking. I would not have gone had that noise been going on when I arrived.

All I wanted was to soak my soul in green and walk under the trees. It was quiet except that Kew and Richmond are under the Heathrow approach for landing planes. I inhaled the sweet, cool, plant scented air. Ahhh.

So I don't have a lot to say. I just walked mostly randomly following paths and enjoying some peace and nature. I did go to the treetop walk, and I'm glad I went early. I pretty much had it to myself. So I walked and walked, and walked some more until my elderly feet began to protest.

Before I left I investigated the shop, which is very classy and Very Expensive. I was curious about the Honey Vodka, but I walked out without buying anything.

By that time it had turned very warm, and I had that long tube ride home. But here I am eating a chicken and avocado sandwich after a proper apero of some Greek olives. I should have butter for desert as I watch the Tour de France Individual Time Trial.

Cheerio

Something for Everyone: The Victoria and Albert

 

A Proper Good Afternoon to You

So I got some microwave meals at the grocery stores, and meh. They were not good--not nearly as good as the ones I had in Portugal besides being much more expensive. I'm not going to bother any more. There's a Pret a Manger just across the street with healthful and tasty food for less money and fuss. I got a Mediterranean Tuna Wrap and some sparkling water on the way home.

I exercised my Oyster Card today, taking the Piccadilly Line to South Kensington where one can find the Victoria and Albert, a museum of applied arts from pretty much all over the world. It's a multi day project for someone my age, but my time is short, and I had targets in mind.

After alighting from the train one is directed down a long tunnel with exits signposted. This is also the way to the Natural History Museum, and since I was early, I had a stroll in their garden. I had discovered a direct entrance to the V and A from the tunnel, but I had to wait until the museum opened.

I wanted to see the British Art first. What are you in the mood for? Costume? Musical Instruments? Weapons? Tableware, Furniture, Jewelry? Decorative items? Religious Works? All of the Above? Then this is the place for you. I wandered around randomly stopping to admire pieces that caught my eye. There are no period rooms, but there are plenty of period ensembles like this one.

I also visited with my old pal Henry VII, founder of the Tudor Dynasty and an underrated ruler in my opinion, who's been overshadowed by his --uh--colorful successor.

I took a detour to the Asian Wing to look at some exhibits from China as I am interested in the Tang Dynasty. Most of the exhibits are from the Qing Period, which interests me less, but I did find things from the Song and Tang Dynasties. Here are some Tang figurines.

I finished up with a visit to the Raphael Cartoons, originally meant at studies for frescos in the Papal Apartments. The cartoons are as fine as finished paintings in my opinion.

Having seen my fill I went back to the tube, and realized that I had left the museum just in time, since I ran into not less than five school groups. Instead of coming straight home, I got off at Green Park. That's your stop if you are visiting Buckingham Palace, but my destination was Fortnum and Mason. To get there I had to pass a couple of "palace hotels," whose posh clientele would never do anything as declasse as arrive by tube or any other form of public transportation.

I was on a scouting mission, so I didn't buy anything. The food hall was crowded, and a lot of what they offer caters to tourists with deep pockets, but they also have some very fine tea.

Back to the tube and home for the bike race and some food and drink.

Cherrio!

The Wallace Collection Plus Side Trips

 

A Proper Good Afternoon to You

Look at that deep golden color on the English Butter. And it tastes as good as it looks.  Next to it sits some young, gooey goat cheese. I'd better have a bite right now.  Ahhhh. That's sublime. After my day of touristing I attended Neal Yard's Dairy--and not for the last time this trip. Truth to tell, I love dairy saturated fat in all its forms.  I tell my arteries that I walk it all off before it can get cloggy.

It rained over night, and I saw the rain during breakfast. I don't hear it because of the double glazed windows that shut out the city noise. It had cleared up by the time I set out, but the streets were still wet. I needed to replenish my groceries, and I thought it would be a good idea to go to Sainsbury Local early. Everyone else had the same idea, but I got in and out pretty well.

When I set out again I took the Tube and more specifically the Central Line to Bond Street. Although the stop is called Bond Street the passenger is decanted on Oxford Street. I had directions to Manchester Square and the Wallace Collection. This is an art trip, but the house in which the collection is housed merits a visit on its own. Below is the area, which, were I the owner, I would be serving you all Afternoon Tea.

Fortunately the place was uncrowded, and I had the sumptuous period rooms to myself. The place is a treasure house of fine furniture as well as painting and sculpture. I also appreciate the extensive and beautiful exhibition of porcelain, and some exquisite snuff boxes.

Every room is jam packed with paintings. The collection is very heavy on Rococo and The Dutch Golden Age, both of which I enjoy, but you can also find, Rubens, Van Dyke, Rembrandt, and Titian. Another painter I especially like is Canaletto, whose vedute of Venice are here in abundance. My taste for him has been roundly condemned because his work is both highly naturalistic and beautiful. These people are best ignored in my opinion.  Here's another period room for you.

My route home took me past the gigantic department store Selfridges, so I popped in. Most of the place is high end luxury brands, something I am just not interested in so I just cruised around. I did help myself to some fancy perfume from Jo Malone, and I took a look around the Food Hall. Some of my friends appreciate things to eat.

I tubed back to Holborn, but instead of going home, I walked down to Covent Garden for my cheese and butter, and then back home for the Tour de France.

Cheerio

The National Portrait Gallery

 A Proper Good Afternoon to You

The sky looks like it wants to rain. I would enjoy this. We had another pleasantly cool day. I looked at the weather for the week and made some plans. Tomorrow is likely to be rainy, so I have a couple of museums in mind depending on my mood. I also booked my visit to The British Museum and Kew Gardens. Booking ahead even when admission is free (The British Museum) or a stiff admission (Kew Gardens) where one pays by credit card. This has become very common in Continental Europe as well. Also I looked up some sites, I might want to visit. Whoa ho! I mean I knew London was expensive, but I'm reluctant to shell out thirty pounds, which is a cool forty U.S. Dollars.

The National Portrait Gallery is not as popular as her sister around the corner, but for me it's a definite must see. Portraits of various periods and media are what is on offer. I recognize nearly all of the ones from the Fifteenth, Sixteenth, Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries, and most of the Nineteenth. History is my business, and come on, you'd recognize George Washington's portrait. The British historical figures are as familiar to me. Oh and speaking of George, he's featured, too along with Benjamin Franklin--very magnanimous, I find it.

Here' Queen Elizabeth I's Coronation portrait.

And here is the scientist Michael Faraday--a handsome chap I included as a treat for my female readers.

On my way home I took a detour through Covent Garden. I'll do it properly later on, but it's a great place for refreshment and retail therapy although specifically directed toward tourists. But there are many pedestrianized streets and the scene is lively and pleasant.

Less pleasant is the presence of homeless men and the occasional panhandler. The UK, despite Brexit, has solid social supports, but the men need to dry out first.

I'm having more of that lovely Cheddar I got a few days ago, but I'm going to devour it all, so I'll need to go back.  For dinner I'm going to have a microwave meal, so not that exciting.

Cheerio

The Strand: Somerset House and Twinings

 A Proper Good Afternoon to You

The weather has turned, and it's cooler and windy. Moreover, the Tour de France has started. This means it's time for Fish and Chips! They wrap it up well, so it's still nice and hot. I go to an old fashioned, no frills, cash only chippie on Theobalds Road. I can't claim it's healthful, but boy is it good. There's a tourist fish and chips joint in Covent Garden that costs twice as much.

I strolled down to the Strand. My target was Somerset House, and more specifically The Courtald Gallery. I was early, but Somerset House is nice to stroll around in as is the Strand. I passed some Very Fancy hotels, including The Savoy. Note the Pride Flag flying over Somerset House, and that is not the only indication of Pride Support I've seen in London.

The Courtald charges admission, but the collection is distinguished and well displayed, even better the place is much less crowded. I used the facilities in the basement, and then climbed to the top of the museum because I like working my way down. I got treated to some Late Medieval and Early Renaissance Art. There's also a good assortment of Rubens. I found his sketches planning out some major works especially interesting.

Most people come for the Impressionists and Post Impressionists, and I can't blame them. In my opinion the gem is Manet's Bar at the Folies Bergere, but a lot of interesting works are on offer.  The only problem I had was when one idiot girl decided she needed to stand in front of me while I was looking at a painting, and what made it worse was that she was more interested in her phone than the art.

When I was done, I paid my respects at the Temple of Tea--the original Twining's shop. It's narrow, but it goes back pretty far, and the selection can be overwhelming. I came away with some English Breakfast, but I may need to go back. A lot of sights decorate the Strand. On my way back, for instance, I passed the Old Bailey, and one of the Inns of Court, where attorney's are trained.

By this time I was really craving some fish and chips, and I knew the place was open for business, so I attended. The cod is well battered. I needed to sprinkle some more salt on it, but it was good. Chips are not fries. The are not thin, uniform, and very crisp. The size and shape of the potato bits is somewhat random, and they are much thicker and  more potatoey than fries. I really like them, especially with malt vinegar and salt.

Cherrio

National Gallery--Trafalgar Square

 A Proper Good Afternoon to You

The English love to snack, but they don't do Apero. This, however, is not going to stop me. I had a solid first full day in London, so I feel I've earned it--and it's special. On the way home I passed by Covent Garden, and I recognized the street was near to Neal's Yard Dairy. Cheese! And not just any old cheese. It's carefully crafted traditional and artisan sorts produced on actual farms. One pays for this, of course, but the cheese is a genuine revelation. For example the Welsh Cheddar I bought bears very little resemblance to the yellow industrial stuff one buys wrapped in plastic. The cheery young shop assistant gave me a taste. Oh yeah--that lovely rich, tangy flavor! So I'm having some on a water cracker I got at the store.

It's been eight years since my last visit, so things have changed. For one thing a lot of the attractions ask the visitor to book ahead on line, and a few new things have opened. I also had to get new adaptors because I have a new computer, phone, and kindle.

I did get some sleep last night--not enough--but then I don't get enough at home. I decided I wanted to go somewhere familiar that I was craving to visit. The National Gallery fit the bill. My location in Central London is prime. I can walk to a lot of sites, and I more or less know my way around. My neighborhood has everything I could possibly want, including a new Waterstones book store across the street.  The trees are in full leaf, and I stayed on the shady side of the street as I made my way down High Holborn to Shaftsbury Avenue to Charing Cross Road, licking windows along the way.

My plan was to show up early to the National Gallery before the crowds arrived. Ha ha ha ha ha ha. Jokes on me. Even though the Gallery was not yet open a huge throng of people with tour groups and advanced booking were lined up. They were let in first, but I got in eventually. The place was packed.

The National Gallery is rather a project, the collection being outstanding for Early Modern and some Modern Art. If you really want Modern you must go to both versions of the Tate, which I intend to do. All these museums are justly popular. Since I taught many of the works exhibited, a visit seems like a reunion with old friends.

I whiled away a few hours enjoying Late Medieval and Early Renaissance Art, which I like quite a bit, but you can also find High Renaissance in the form of Raphael's St. Catherine, and Leonardo's fascinating Virgin of the Rocks. You don't want to miss Holbein's The French Ambassadors. Make sure ask the attendant where to stand to see the skull snap into place.

I didn't get much of a look at the Arnofini Marriage because it's a target of tour and school groups. It's one that repays close study for its symbolism, rich colors and textures. Another painting I love for its outstanding beauty is Bacchus and Ariadne by Titian. I could go on and one. The collection is a roll call of the greats as well as lesser known artists (Well, I know them) that one could come to appreciate.

But I got tired, and my feet ached, and the crowd was getting to me, so I made my way home, but I did stop at the cheese shop and the grocery store. I'm trying to decide what to have for dinner. It's still very warm, so I'll probably opt for the Coronation Chicken Sandwich, so I can compare it to another one I know. I also wonder if His Majesty King Charles III's coronation banquet will also inspire another iconic dish.

Cherrio!

LAX to Central London

 A proper Good Afternoon to You

And greetings from Central London.

There's always something. I realized suddenly on the tube trip in that while I carefully packed my solution and case, I had forgotten the actual contact lenses. I'll just wear my glasses, and I'll be fine.  On the brighter side people were practically throwing themselves at me to help out. I did not even have to ask.

I had a smooth trip to the airport. In fact I arrived before the check in desks opened and had to wait around. Then the trip through security. Some kind folks spotted my wrist brace and offered help, but I was Ok until the security people needed me to take the brace off. Oh well.  Then British Airways emailed me, and I learned the flight would be delayed. 

I made my way to the One World lounge, which is nice, but the offerings are not as good as Air France. I had a small bowl of curry, which was good. I actually wanted seconds, but they (over) fed me on the plane. I had ice tea to drink. There was a lot of free booze on offer--some of it very fancy--but once again, I was offered drinks on the plane. The lounge is a nice place to hang out. There is wifi and comfortable places to sit as well as the food and drink.

On the plane I settled in to my cubicle. I always keep my seat belt on. I fly over the Northern Atlantic, so there's going to be turbulence--sometimes it's bad. Even in the lie flat seats you can stay buckled with the buckle outside the cover so the flight attendants don't have to bother you if the seat belt light goes on.

Pil. you mentioned drinking on the plane. It seems a bit much.

Fortunately, the glasses are small, and they do not fill them, or it would be. I had two kinds of sparkling wine--French Champagne and British sparkling wine. Because of climate change more and more wine is being produced in Britain. I was offered seconds but I passed.

The above was my starter. I ordered the smoked salmon avocado timbale because it seemed like something Bertie Wooster would like. I liked it, too! Most tasty.

This was the main course--British beef and vegetables. With some Cabernet from France.

I didn't take a shot of the cheese plate, but I had ruby port with that.  Then I was quite ready to snooze. I don't know how much sleep I got, but it was several hours of good sleep. Then breakfast. I passed on the full English that British Airways offers. In my younger days I used to scarf them up, but I had eggs an veg instead with some nice tea.

So good flight and the flight attendants were lovely, but then I was decanted into the airport. The home of British Airways is Terminal Five, but passport control and baggage claim is in Terminal Three, so we took the shuttle train. Security and passport control work on facial recognition so it's very efficient, and I didn't have to dig my passport out twenty thousand times.

There was a long wait for my bag, but then I went to the Underground station and got my Oyster Card and boarded the train for the long trip to Holborn. What I had forgotten is that Holborn Station has no lifts and does have stairs. Seeing my dismay, a chivalrous Londoner offered to carry my bags, which he even managed on the escalators for me! 

I checked in at Citadines and since I had paid for early check in, my nice room was ready. I dumped my bags and went to get some food and drink. Everything is automated, so I had to learn to use the automatic check out machine.

I'm swilling water because it's a bit humid, and also long plane trips dehydrate me. Normally I'd be having fish and chips for my first London dinner, but British Airways fed me so well and so much, I'm having a chicken tzatziki wrap and some rose later on.

Cheerio!

A Pleasant Last Day in Porto

 

Bom Dia,

Behold the Cathedral of Porto in all its Romanesque Glory!

The day dawned sunny but pleasantly cool. I have a very early departure tomorrow and my on-line check in for my flights completed, and my taxi pick up is confirmed. Now I need to pack and make sure I'm clean and neat for my flights.

I started the day with a trip to the ATM. I didn't intend to spend lots, but I like to have a supply of Euros for when I return to Continental Europe. My next trip is London, so I'll have to dig around and see if I have any pounds left.

There was a museum I particularly wanted to see and I found it easily. I also found the notice that it was closed during renovation. Uh huh. The joint has a very nice website that gives all sorts of info, but fails to mention the closure.

Never mind. I was pretty close to the famous Ponte de Luiz I, so I decided to take another walk across. It was pretty much the perfect day for it with a fresh breeze and clear skies. The views are spectacular--including large signs indicating the location of the cellars of famous Port brands. They offer tours and tastings, and there are also frequent river tours of various kinds, so there's a lot more to do in Porto than I accomplished.

But I wasn't done. Another museum beckoned me that I had planned to visit after the first one because it was downhill.  A charitable foundation was founded back in the Sixteenth Century called the Misericoridia under the protection of the Virgin Mary, Mother of Mercy.  I was surprised to learn it was still going strong providing medical care and support for hospitals as well as medical care for prisoners all over Northern Portugal.

It's not a project museum, but I found the exhibits interesting and appreciated some Late Medieval and Early Modern European Art. The paintings were kinda meh, but there were some excellent polychrome wood carvings as well as medical artifacts and some precious treasures from the church.

There were stairs. I am now afraid of stairs, especially slippery marble ones.  I managed. I also took the elevator whenever I could.

The visit ends with an entrance to the Chapel of the Misericordia, a lavish and beautiful Baroque style church. I had it to myself, which was nice--peaceful and quiet--unlike the frantic tourist milieu into which I was decanted.

I enjoyed my trip despite my injury and some bad weather, and I saw nearly everything I really wanted to see. I hoped to take a day trip, but that did not work out. Porto is a worthy destination and a popular one, so be prepared for hoards of tourists. The historic center is beautiful and very walkable, although there's a lot of up and down.

I reserve my greatest appreciation for the kindness of my hosts at Porto Old Town for help with my injury as well as the lovely pharmacist who gave me timely first aid without my having to ask.

Adeus

X

Porto Makes it Easy to Spend Money

 Bom Dia,

First,  the progress report. I am typing this two handed, and I was able to put my contact lenses in and--more importantly--take them out. The swelling is down somewhat, and I have a bit more strength and mobility in my fingers. My hand and arm look ghastly because of the bruising, but I'm not in pain unless I make a bad move.

The photo is of Porto Historic Center Touristville wiith the magnificent San Bento Station in the background.

The museums are closed today, since it's Monday, so I figured I'd do some shopping. For one thing I needed some Food and Drink. I bought a bag of almonds, too, because they make good apero with Tawny Port and also because I have a Very Early Flight on Wednesday. They will feed me on the plane, but I may need a snack before that.

When I brought my groceries home, the gracious and compassionate Head Housekeeper came to check on me, and I was able to give a good report. I waggled my fingers for her.

After putting my groceries away, I set out again for a major pedestrianized tourist shopping street called Flores. Portugal is famous for its cork products. I got myself a hat made of cork, which is too big and looks kinda dorky, but--hey! How many people can boast of a hat made out of cork? I made various other purchases because I like bringing back things for my friends. Not souvenirs. Things people can actually use or wear that have a cute origin story.

I saw a likely looking shop and stepped in. I was looking for chocolate because most of my friends have expressed a craving for the European stuff.  The handsome young man in charge knows how to sell his product. He offers tastes. Chocolate is just one part of the shop's offerings. We are also confronted with fruit pastes and honey. He offered me some fig fruit paste that he claimed was his favorite. Oh my! It instantly became my favorite, too. So I wandered around and loaded up and unleashed my credit card. Some of my pals are going to get a different taste of Portugal. The chocolate comes in cubes, so I can mix and match flavors.

Some chocolate shops offer port infused chocs or serve chocs with port. I'm a firm no on this, but your milage may vary.

On impulse I stopped at a bakery on my street and bought a Pastel de Nata. These are sweet custard tarts that are essentially the Portuguese National Desserts, and it is extremely rude to come to Portugal without eating one. And if the visitor fails to consume, it is their loss because these items are Very Tasty! The tart shell is flakey pastry. The filling is rich with egg and butter--not too sugary.  I'm glad I got it in my neighborhood because in the tourist zone, they cost some fifty europence more.

Adeus

Stormy Day Porto

 Bom Dia,

Heavy rain, thunderstorms, chance of hail? Uh no. I'm going to opt out and stay in while enjoying listening to the rain.  And look! I'm typing two handed again--so much easier.

The photo is one I took a day or so earlier. If you look closely you can see white things hanging. This is dried, salted cod--the bacalhau that is the foundation of Portuguese cuisine, while being something I dislike. If you were to cross the street, you'd see fruit preserves, nuts, and many very expensive bottles of port. If you entered the store you'd find even more goodies.

But since we're not going out, let's have some history!

You can't spare us, Pil?

Nope. Here goes. It's one of those cities whose name designates its function. Porto sits at the mouth of the Douro River. Originally settled by Celts, whom you can also find in Northwestern Spain, but these Celts may have been contaminated by Phoencians, who were always on the lookout for good trading opporunities.

But, of course the Romans showed up, but when the Empire fell the Visigoths and then the Muslims moved in. La Reconquista was mounted from the Principality of Asturias in Spain. What became Northern Portugal became county under the Princes of Asturias. Later the whole of the Western Iberian Peninsula was regained from the Muslims starting in the 1300s.

Close ties with England appeared when John of Gaunt's daughter, Philippa of Lancaster married King Joao I. I referred to the royal couple earlier as the parents of Dom Henrique--the Navigator.

Portugal has often been overshadowed by Spain. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries because of dynastic marriages Spain ruled Portugal, but my host country has always and successfully asserted its independence. Now Portugal is a firm and democratic member of the European Union--a very good thing in my opinion.

Adeus

Casa do Principe

 

Bom dia,

Dear Friends, I have no idea why my previous post was tagged as sensitive. Apart from discussing my wanderings, I mentioned the May Day activities and complained about the exchange rate. It's safe to read, honest!

I am making progress! I can use my left hand a bit.  I managed to wash my hair, but the real triumph was putting in my earrings. I may try contact lenses tomorrow. Swollen fingers crossed.

I set out early as rain is expected, and I don't fancy fighting my way through the crowd with an umbrella and slippery sidewalks.

But I very much wanted to see the Casa do Principe. The building was the Royal Mint, which also apparently also collected and administered port fees and taxes.  I don't know what the Queen--the English Princess Philippa of Lancaster (daughter of John of Gaunt) [No one but you cares about who her father was, nor do they care about Lancaster].

But people should care about the Prince--the Portuguese term is Infante--she gave birth to. He was Dom Henrique, known to history as Prince Henry the Navigator. Apparently devoid of personal ambition, Henrique dedicated himself to the spread of Christianity and the defeat of Islam. You may not approve, but the Infante's methods proved effective.  He established a navigation center at Sagres on the Southern tip of Portugal.  After his death his efforts bore fruit in the voyage of Vasco da Gama around Africa to India--where he was not welcomed.

The Casa is a small museum, so perfect for me today. The irritating thing was that although I got a discount for being old, the ticket taker did not require proof. 

The first thing I noticed was the smell of old stone. as befits an old mint, some coins are on display along with ceramics and other sparse artifacts from the site.  I enjoyed my day out except for the long, slow climb home.

Adeus

Easing Back into the Game

 

Bom Dia, 

Yesterday was May First--not a big deal in North America, but definitely a Very Big Deal in Southern Europe. The parade and demonstration reached my neighborhood in the late afternoon and featured bullhorns and chanting by various groups.  I could not understand a word, May 1st is International Workers Day, so it's a sound guess some of the chants were political.

Their timing was good. After dark it began to rain, and around midnight I was awakened by a loud thunderstorm accompanied by heavy rain. It rained off and on--I breakfasted to the sound of falling drops, but later it cleared up enough for me to go out.

It was good to get out of the room and walk outside, but I had a false start. I went downstairs only to realize I'd forgotten my glasses. I'm not used to wearing them, but inserting contact lenses is two hand job.  I began with the ATM, shaking my head at the awful exchange rate. I expected a weaker dollar, but I didn't expect the buck to be this feeble. Fortunately Porto is not expensive.

I had a pleasant stroll, making a big loop around my neighborhood where I found a lot of fun new windows to lick.

Then the sky began to spit. Although I always carry an umbrella in Europe, I did not trust myself with it one handed.

I expect to go out tomorrow. There's something touristy I'd like to see.

Yesterday I dined on tuna pate--gotta get those Omega3s. Today I'm having a pastry stuffed with chicken. The Portuguese call these empanadas, but the aren't like the South American ones.

Adeus

Porto-- One- Handed

 Bom dia,

The Real Nightmare is hooking and unhooking bras. I can't avoid this, and it really takes two hands, which I have not got at the moment, so I have to accept some pain.

Otherwise I am pain free unless I must do a task that requires two hands. I can't wear my contact lenses or my earrings. I do not remember how I got the former out, but I did. And I'm grateful that I can sleep.

Look. The sprain is bad, but the treatment does work. I have pain cream, which I massage on to my afflicted wrist and hand. I take my ibuprofen as directed. I can shower and undress and dress myself although it takes four times as long as usual. I have developed techniques for T shirts, socks. sweaters. I can pull socks on one handed and slacks, too, but the buttons are an issue. If I hold tubes between my knees, I can get enough traction to open them.

I needed food and drink. I emerged from my room and asked one of the cleaning staff to help me. I have to use the pain cream, but then I can't reapply my bandage. I don't speak Portuguese. She doesn't speak English, but she understood what I needed once I showed her my loose bandage, and she fixed me right up. I have learned to say "obrigado." I have the feeling I'll need this word a lot. 

With the bandage secured, I felt confident about going shopping for food. My refrigerator is micro, so I must shop frequently. There is nothing wrong with my legs, and even my feet seem to have improved, so I set off. I recycled some cardboard and then walked to my preferred supermarket.

Although the exchange rate is truly awful, the cost of living in Portugal is not bad. For example I spent sixteen euro for my medical treatment at the pharmacy, and my groceries--admittedly a big trip, cost about twenty-two euro. I was ecstatic because I found hummus--my preferred European breakfast, and I also bought wine and port, plus microwave meals.

I think I'll be able to take a walk around tomorrow. Just don't expect tourist action.

Adeus

I'm Taking the Day Off

 Bom dia,

I got sufficient sleep, but my poor old hand is swole up bad. I can use it, but there's pain. Here is the gruesome view.

I went up the street to the pharmacy, where I found help. The nice young lady cleaned off my hand and massaged pain cream on my bruises. Then she applied an ace bandage. I have taken some ibuprophen and already feel a bit better.

I have food and tea and a supply of Asian Dramas to watch on my computer, so I'm going to take the opportunity to rest and recover.

Adeus