We went to Prince Edward Island this past weekend, for a little three-day break; a photo album has been posted here on Flickr.
Last time we visited, we focused mainly on the central part of the Island. I had very much wanted to see some of the eastern side, and in particular, to stay at the Inn at Bay Fortune as I'd heard good things about it. But you can't do everything all at once, of course, so we resolved to go back another time. It took us four years, but we finally made it! We booked a two-night package at the Inn, and headed over this past Saturday morning, catching the 10.30 am ferry from Pictou County to Wood Islands.
From there, it's an easy drive to get to wherever you want, as PEI is so small (you could drive the island end-to-end in less than four hours). As with our last trip, we had wonderful weather, and I was struck once again by how pretty and tidy the province is - Islanders take so much pride in their properties. On Saturday morning, we did a meandering coastal drive around the southeastern end of the province, stopping at the Panmure Island lighthouse, before pressing on for the Inn at Bay Fortune. It was really hot by mid-afternoon, and we wanted to get to the beach ASAP.
After checking in to our small (but still comfortable) room in the South Tower, we got changed and headed for Bay Fortune's back beach, just down the road from the Inn. It was a lovely spot, with a long stretch of red sand scattered with seashells. Hardly anyone on it, either, which surprised me (on a Saturday afternoon, you'd think it would be full of kids - but then Islanders are spoilt for choice when it comes to excellent beaches). Spent a lovely couple of hours paddling in the water, strolling, and crashed out on deck chairs with a book, before heading back to the Inn to get changed for dinner.
The package we'd booked at the Inn included dinner on both nights, as the place is famed for its cuisine (and rightfully so). On the first night we had a great three-course meal - I had scallops, followed by veal, and a "reimagined" (!) fruit salad for dessert. The dining room (which is located in the glassed-in veranda of the Inn) is open to residents and non-residents, and was pretty packed that evening. Afterwards, we lay out on the big Muskoka chairs on the front lawn, looking up at the incredibly bright stars (not much light pollution on PEI!). Not only was the Milky Way very clear, but we even caught the tail end of the Perseid meteor shower. I saw four shooting stars in the space of about ten minutes - but then we high-tailed it back inside as the mosquitoes were fierce!
On Sunday, we had a lovely breakfast (lots of fruit, yogurt, yummy homemade muffins, and PEI blue-potato pancakes with poached eggs and spinach), then picked up the picnic lunch we'd ordered from the inn's kitchen before setting off for the beautiful white-sand beach at Basin Head. It's one of the nicest and most famous beaches on the Island, and is known for the curious natural phenomenon of "singing sands". As we discovered, the sand squeaks when you walk across it. We got there before noon, but the main beach was already busy with families, and plenty of teenagers. Luckily, a five-minute walk up the beach took us far away from all that, to a deserted stretch where there were few other people. The perfect spot to set up our chairs and just relax - though the sun was fierce and I was wishing we had one of those big umbrellas! Luckily the water was fairly bracing, so it was easy to cool off by taking a quick dip. We spent the remainder of the afternoon strolling along the water's edge, swimming, and reading, in between bouts of applying sunscreen (though I still managed to get a bit of a burn on my back!).
By 4pm a few clouds had rolled in, so it seemed like a good time to pack up and head off. On the way back to the Inn, we took a detour north of the town of Souris and drove a couple of the waymarked Scenic Heritage Roads that have been designated throughout the province. These are all so pretty - unpaved, red-dirt roads in the middle of the countryside, often used as shortcuts in years gone by, and many are canopied by large trees. They all make for very peaceful drives.
Soon it was time to go back to the Inn, shower away all the sand and sunscreen, and dress for dinner. As it was our last night in PEI, we were booked to partake of the chef's five-course tasting menu in the restaurant. It didn't disappoint. We had a lamb broth with scallops to start, then a garden salad, followed by a lovely piece of swordfish. A scoop of grapefruit sorbet was followed by the main course - roulade of veal topped with salt-cured oysters in tempura, the same dish I'd chosen to eat the night before! Oh well, good thing it was delicious - I didn't mind eating it again. And for dessert, a glass of port and a very nice chocolate mousse. A fine meal - and surprisingly, I didn't walk away from the table in pain! The portions were just right.
Monday morning, after a final breakfast in the dining room, it was time for packing up and checking out. As we weren't planning to get the ferry back to NS until the afternoon, we decided to spend the morning visiting one of the local historic sites - the MacPhail Homestead in Uigg, not far from Charlottetown. I wasn't familiar with Sir Andrew MacPhail, but it turns out he was quite an accomplished physician, scholar, and man of letters in early 20th-century Canada. The house in which he was born, and later spent his summers with his children, is now a national historic site and open to the public. We had a little tour around (a rambling old place, and quite pretty), before taking a stroll around the grounds. The estate still comprises about 140 acres and is now home to an ecological forestry project. There are several waymarked trails through the woods, which made for nice walks.
Soon, it was time to head for Wood Islands and the afternoon ferry crossing back to Nova Scotia. Although we were away for only two nights, it felt longer - always a good thing. A fun and relaxing trip - the sort of thing we should all be doing more often!
18 August 2009
31 July 2009
In the Garden, July
After such a promising start in June, July has been a bit of a damp squib out in the garden. Most of the month, it rained - causing many of the flowers to droop, rot and break. Also, the lawn has suffered because of so much water, with the old bald patches under the big maple tree re-emerging.
Still, we have had some good displays (photos on Flickr). The stalwart daylilies are as robust as ever, and the deck planters are nice. I also got foxgloves to bloom, after three years of trying!
29 July 2009
Holiday Photos
Poor lil' Panopticon-blog - you are very neglected these days, now that I spend most of my time posting to Facebook instead.
I forgot to note on here (for the handful of readers who do not see this via the blog import feature on Facebook) that my holiday photos from England and Ireland are now posted over here on Flickr.
18 July 2009
England/Ireland Trip, Part the Fourth (and Final)
On Friday morning (22 May), we were up early and practically rolled out of our beds into the famous Bermondsey Antiques Market - located just over the road from our flat. It's an outdoor market, and luckily it was a lovely morning, perfect for strolling the stalls. It's very popular with antique sellers themselves, who get there before dawn to snap up the best stuff for their own inventories. Given that, I thought it might be a bit overwhelming, but in fact it was very unpretentious, not too large, and with a cool variety of stuff on offer. I even picked up a little something for myself - this very pretty framed papercut, ca. 1830 or thereabouts. It's on display in my living room now, and I get a kick out of imagining the lady of leisure who whiled away the hours snipping at this, with a pair of tiny scissors:
Later that morning, it was time for another London Walk. We got the Tube to South Kensington, where we met a wonderful guide who took us around "The Wonders of the V&A". The Victoria & Albert Museum is my favourite museum, and has the finest decorative arts collection in the world. I've visited many times in the past, but still haven't even seen half of the enormous collection. The great thing about this particular tour was that we spent two hours with our guide (a V&A lecturer, no less) who showed us about a dozen key objects, and discussed them in depth. None of them were things I'd seen before. Our visit also reminded me of how wonderful the building itself is. After the tour, we had lunch in the fabulous museum restaurant (partially designed by William Morris!), and afterwards bombed around the always-awesome fashion and costume gallery and a fab exhibition of hats curated by the milliner Stephen Jones. By that point, however, I was seriously flagging, so I left J. to explore the museum some more before I headed back to the flat and crashed for a few hours.
I knew I'd need energy for the evening, as we had tickets to go see a show that night. We got the Tube to Brixton and walked over to the legendary Brixton Academy, where we saw...the Ting Tings. Hahaha! I was actually more excited about the venue than the band, but the Tings put on a pretty fun, high-energy show. And shockingly, we were not the oldest people in the audience - not by a long shot!
Saturday morning, I had a little lie-in, while J. went out for some last-minute shopping. We planned to meet at 11am for our final London Walk of the week, "Old Westminster". But I forgot the Jubilee line on the Underground was closed for engineering works that day, and so had to detour, arriving at the meeting point just in time. J. didn't make it, though, and so we had a frantic flurry of text messages before she arrived at the station in a cab and we hurried to catch up with our tour group. Luckily, we didn't miss much - we had a great two hours strolling the streets of Westminster, looking at the Houses of Parliament, the Jewel Tower, and the Abbey. Then we ducked into some of the back streets, visiting enclaves like Smith Square to see where many of the MPs live while Parliament is sitting. Not only were the rows of Georgian terraced houses beautiful in themselves, but their facades carried fascinating echoes of the past - from 18th-century street signage, to faded public notices dating from the Second World War. Off Smith Square, our guide pointed out this notice, which reads "Public Shelters in Vaults Under Pavements in This Street". It showed passersby where to go if an air-raid siren went off and a bombing raid was imminent:
After our walk finished, we hightailed it back to Westminster Abbey, which was closing to visitors at 1.30 pm. Luckily, we just made it inside - there was quite the queue, and we waited about a half-hour to gain entry (and paid £15! It used to only be a fiver...still, the place needs money to keep it going, so we didn't mind paying up). It was my second time visiting the Abbey, but it's a place no one could ever get tired of - so much to see, and so evocative. The royal tombs, the stonework, the wood carvings, the windows, the layer on layer of the most incredible history. And to top it all off, while we were there the choir began to rehearse, sending shivers down the spine.
Afterwards, we got some lunch and walked to Victoria Embankment, where we sat in the garden for a bit and ate, before heading home. The busy pace of sightseeing was starting to catch up with us and we were feeling pretty zonked, so we took a few hours of R&R back at the flat, and did some packing as well.
Then at 7, we headed out to meet friends for dinner in the East End, on our last night in London. We decided to walk, and spent an hour strolling over Tower Bridge (on a beautiful, warm, sunny evening no less), up the Hill past the Tower of London itself, to Aldgate. From there we went up Whitechapel High Street, past beautiful Spitalfields Church, Spitalfields market, and the Ten Bells (a Victorian-era pub known to have been frequented by several of Jack the Ripper's victims). We were bound for a curry house at the north end of Brick Lane. Once home to London's Jews and the Hugenots before that, nowadays Brick Lane is the heart of the Bangladeshi community and the street is lined with curry houses, all of which have (sometimes very pushy) touts out front trying to lure you in. So we came in from the western side, to avoid all that, and met up with my friends C., P. and baby J., as well as some other folks who we holidayed with in Venezuela two years ago. C. had taken me to eat at this particular restaurant, Aladin, last time I was in London, and I loved it. Fabulous food, great service, and you can BYOB which is another plus! We ordered a ridiculous amount of food (which cost almost nothing) and wolfed it all down. It was a great evening, which ended with a stroll back to Liverpool Street with C., P. and baby, and we all caught a night bus back to Southwark!
Next morning, J. (without a watch to hand) was awake at 5 am and got herself packed up and ready to go. Since she was already up, she decided to go attend the 8.30 am service at St. Paul's Cathedral, so we said our farewells, and she went on her way for the day. Later that afternoon, she got a flight from Heathrow to Barcelona, where she continued her trip with a few days of sightseeing and then a conference for her work.
I, on the other hand, had a flight to Dublin to catch. I packed up and checked out of our lovely flat, and was then picked up by the executive coach at 9am. It took two hours to get to Gatwick, as the driver had a couple other pickups in the West End - good thing it was a Sunday and there were no roadworks or traffic. In the end, it didn't matter too much, as my flight was delayed by two hours because of an electricity failure on the luggage carousel (airline staff were taking all the passengers' luggage away on trolleys!).
But by 4pm, I had arrived in Dublin. My friends (and former co-workers) E. and A. kindly picked me up at airport - great to see both of them again! The drive into the city was fascinating - building works have continued apace since I left five years ago, with all kinds of new developments everywhere. Ominously, though, some projects - including a second terminal for Dublin Airport - have ground to a halt due to the credit crunch.
I was even more surprised to arrive in E.'s neighbourhood, near the Grand Canal Docks in Dublin 3. It was an area that was only just beginning to be developed 10 years ago, but it's got lots of impressive offices and apartments now - some newly-built, and others converted from old industrial buildings. E.'s apartment complex includes an old gasworks, which has been converted into smart flats, to quite stunning effect:
On Monday, after breakfast, E. and I headed out so I could undertake an inspection tour of my old haunts. We got the DART from the new station at Grand Canal Docks to Tara Street, then connected to the LUAS (the new light rail service) in Abbey Street. The entire time I lived in Dublin, the lines for the LUAS were being constructed and causing all kinds of traffic disruption. Since I left the city just one month before the service started up in 2004, I was keen to go for a ride and check it out. I was pretty impressed - it's clean, efficient, and seems to work very smoothly. The consensus among Dubliners seems to be that it was well worth all the trouble. We took the Tallaght line across the southwest of the city, intending to get off somewhere along the Long Mile Road so we could walk down to my old digs, but I made the mistake of not looking at a map beforehand. We got off in Drimnagh, but I didn't recognise the neighbourhood at all, so we ended up calling a taxi - we got less than a mile down the road before I figured out where we were! Haha. The cab deposited us at Crumlin Cross and from there we walked down to the old apartment in Perrystown. When A. and I left Dublin, we'd joked that the neighbourhood was going to the dogs and we'd probably find a smoking hole in the ground where the building used to be - but not so! Actually, other than the gardens being a little overgrown, the development looked to be in pretty good shape.
Not wanting to haul ourselves back to the LUAS stop, we hopped the no. 150 bus back into town. The neighbourhoods we passed through are still largely the same, except for some smart new condos in the Liberties (which continues to be gentrified). We got off in the city centre, and E. and I did a little wandering in Kilkenny Design and some of my other favourite shops, before heading for Avoca, where we had arranged to have lunch with our old boss and another work colleague. Lovely to see them - and the lunch was fabulous, as always! Manoman, I love the Avoca cafe. To start, E. and I shared an order of chunky chips, cooked in duck fat and served with horseradish mayo (!!!!!!!!!). Then I had my usual order of yummy soup, served with three chunks of my fave Avoca breads (wholemeal, fruit & seed, and cheese soda). The crowning glory of any Avoca cafe visit is always the pudding, though. I had a slab of lemon curd cake with cream - delish.
After lunch, I did a little pre-emptive Christmas shopping on the lower floors of Avoca, then did some more strolling and shopping in Grafton Street, picking up various gifties. Before we knew it, the afternoon had slipped away, and it was time to head for A.'s house in the Liberties. She lives in a cottage on one of the squares built by Guinness for its brewery workers in years past. A couple years ago, she had the place completely gutted and renovated into a very smart open-plan studio, which ended up being featured in an Irish design mag. She and E. cooked up a fab dinner and we spent another very fun evening drinking wine and chatting.
I made sure to turn in relatively early, though - as it was the last day of my trip. The following morning I was picked up by a taxi at 4am, and whisked to the airport to catch my flight to Gatwick and connection back to Halifax later that morning. I wished I'd spent another couple days in Dublin, but it was nice to get in a quick visit with my friends, and check out my old stomping grounds. All round, it was a great trip - some fantastic sights, good friends, food, and shopping. I will never stay away from Europe for so long again!
Later that morning, it was time for another London Walk. We got the Tube to South Kensington, where we met a wonderful guide who took us around "The Wonders of the V&A". The Victoria & Albert Museum is my favourite museum, and has the finest decorative arts collection in the world. I've visited many times in the past, but still haven't even seen half of the enormous collection. The great thing about this particular tour was that we spent two hours with our guide (a V&A lecturer, no less) who showed us about a dozen key objects, and discussed them in depth. None of them were things I'd seen before. Our visit also reminded me of how wonderful the building itself is. After the tour, we had lunch in the fabulous museum restaurant (partially designed by William Morris!), and afterwards bombed around the always-awesome fashion and costume gallery and a fab exhibition of hats curated by the milliner Stephen Jones. By that point, however, I was seriously flagging, so I left J. to explore the museum some more before I headed back to the flat and crashed for a few hours.
I knew I'd need energy for the evening, as we had tickets to go see a show that night. We got the Tube to Brixton and walked over to the legendary Brixton Academy, where we saw...the Ting Tings. Hahaha! I was actually more excited about the venue than the band, but the Tings put on a pretty fun, high-energy show. And shockingly, we were not the oldest people in the audience - not by a long shot!
Saturday morning, I had a little lie-in, while J. went out for some last-minute shopping. We planned to meet at 11am for our final London Walk of the week, "Old Westminster". But I forgot the Jubilee line on the Underground was closed for engineering works that day, and so had to detour, arriving at the meeting point just in time. J. didn't make it, though, and so we had a frantic flurry of text messages before she arrived at the station in a cab and we hurried to catch up with our tour group. Luckily, we didn't miss much - we had a great two hours strolling the streets of Westminster, looking at the Houses of Parliament, the Jewel Tower, and the Abbey. Then we ducked into some of the back streets, visiting enclaves like Smith Square to see where many of the MPs live while Parliament is sitting. Not only were the rows of Georgian terraced houses beautiful in themselves, but their facades carried fascinating echoes of the past - from 18th-century street signage, to faded public notices dating from the Second World War. Off Smith Square, our guide pointed out this notice, which reads "Public Shelters in Vaults Under Pavements in This Street". It showed passersby where to go if an air-raid siren went off and a bombing raid was imminent:
After our walk finished, we hightailed it back to Westminster Abbey, which was closing to visitors at 1.30 pm. Luckily, we just made it inside - there was quite the queue, and we waited about a half-hour to gain entry (and paid £15! It used to only be a fiver...still, the place needs money to keep it going, so we didn't mind paying up). It was my second time visiting the Abbey, but it's a place no one could ever get tired of - so much to see, and so evocative. The royal tombs, the stonework, the wood carvings, the windows, the layer on layer of the most incredible history. And to top it all off, while we were there the choir began to rehearse, sending shivers down the spine.
Afterwards, we got some lunch and walked to Victoria Embankment, where we sat in the garden for a bit and ate, before heading home. The busy pace of sightseeing was starting to catch up with us and we were feeling pretty zonked, so we took a few hours of R&R back at the flat, and did some packing as well.
Then at 7, we headed out to meet friends for dinner in the East End, on our last night in London. We decided to walk, and spent an hour strolling over Tower Bridge (on a beautiful, warm, sunny evening no less), up the Hill past the Tower of London itself, to Aldgate. From there we went up Whitechapel High Street, past beautiful Spitalfields Church, Spitalfields market, and the Ten Bells (a Victorian-era pub known to have been frequented by several of Jack the Ripper's victims). We were bound for a curry house at the north end of Brick Lane. Once home to London's Jews and the Hugenots before that, nowadays Brick Lane is the heart of the Bangladeshi community and the street is lined with curry houses, all of which have (sometimes very pushy) touts out front trying to lure you in. So we came in from the western side, to avoid all that, and met up with my friends C., P. and baby J., as well as some other folks who we holidayed with in Venezuela two years ago. C. had taken me to eat at this particular restaurant, Aladin, last time I was in London, and I loved it. Fabulous food, great service, and you can BYOB which is another plus! We ordered a ridiculous amount of food (which cost almost nothing) and wolfed it all down. It was a great evening, which ended with a stroll back to Liverpool Street with C., P. and baby, and we all caught a night bus back to Southwark!
Next morning, J. (without a watch to hand) was awake at 5 am and got herself packed up and ready to go. Since she was already up, she decided to go attend the 8.30 am service at St. Paul's Cathedral, so we said our farewells, and she went on her way for the day. Later that afternoon, she got a flight from Heathrow to Barcelona, where she continued her trip with a few days of sightseeing and then a conference for her work.
I, on the other hand, had a flight to Dublin to catch. I packed up and checked out of our lovely flat, and was then picked up by the executive coach at 9am. It took two hours to get to Gatwick, as the driver had a couple other pickups in the West End - good thing it was a Sunday and there were no roadworks or traffic. In the end, it didn't matter too much, as my flight was delayed by two hours because of an electricity failure on the luggage carousel (airline staff were taking all the passengers' luggage away on trolleys!).
But by 4pm, I had arrived in Dublin. My friends (and former co-workers) E. and A. kindly picked me up at airport - great to see both of them again! The drive into the city was fascinating - building works have continued apace since I left five years ago, with all kinds of new developments everywhere. Ominously, though, some projects - including a second terminal for Dublin Airport - have ground to a halt due to the credit crunch.
I was even more surprised to arrive in E.'s neighbourhood, near the Grand Canal Docks in Dublin 3. It was an area that was only just beginning to be developed 10 years ago, but it's got lots of impressive offices and apartments now - some newly-built, and others converted from old industrial buildings. E.'s apartment complex includes an old gasworks, which has been converted into smart flats, to quite stunning effect:
On Monday, after breakfast, E. and I headed out so I could undertake an inspection tour of my old haunts. We got the DART from the new station at Grand Canal Docks to Tara Street, then connected to the LUAS (the new light rail service) in Abbey Street. The entire time I lived in Dublin, the lines for the LUAS were being constructed and causing all kinds of traffic disruption. Since I left the city just one month before the service started up in 2004, I was keen to go for a ride and check it out. I was pretty impressed - it's clean, efficient, and seems to work very smoothly. The consensus among Dubliners seems to be that it was well worth all the trouble. We took the Tallaght line across the southwest of the city, intending to get off somewhere along the Long Mile Road so we could walk down to my old digs, but I made the mistake of not looking at a map beforehand. We got off in Drimnagh, but I didn't recognise the neighbourhood at all, so we ended up calling a taxi - we got less than a mile down the road before I figured out where we were! Haha. The cab deposited us at Crumlin Cross and from there we walked down to the old apartment in Perrystown. When A. and I left Dublin, we'd joked that the neighbourhood was going to the dogs and we'd probably find a smoking hole in the ground where the building used to be - but not so! Actually, other than the gardens being a little overgrown, the development looked to be in pretty good shape.
Not wanting to haul ourselves back to the LUAS stop, we hopped the no. 150 bus back into town. The neighbourhoods we passed through are still largely the same, except for some smart new condos in the Liberties (which continues to be gentrified). We got off in the city centre, and E. and I did a little wandering in Kilkenny Design and some of my other favourite shops, before heading for Avoca, where we had arranged to have lunch with our old boss and another work colleague. Lovely to see them - and the lunch was fabulous, as always! Manoman, I love the Avoca cafe. To start, E. and I shared an order of chunky chips, cooked in duck fat and served with horseradish mayo (!!!!!!!!!). Then I had my usual order of yummy soup, served with three chunks of my fave Avoca breads (wholemeal, fruit & seed, and cheese soda). The crowning glory of any Avoca cafe visit is always the pudding, though. I had a slab of lemon curd cake with cream - delish.
After lunch, I did a little pre-emptive Christmas shopping on the lower floors of Avoca, then did some more strolling and shopping in Grafton Street, picking up various gifties. Before we knew it, the afternoon had slipped away, and it was time to head for A.'s house in the Liberties. She lives in a cottage on one of the squares built by Guinness for its brewery workers in years past. A couple years ago, she had the place completely gutted and renovated into a very smart open-plan studio, which ended up being featured in an Irish design mag. She and E. cooked up a fab dinner and we spent another very fun evening drinking wine and chatting.
I made sure to turn in relatively early, though - as it was the last day of my trip. The following morning I was picked up by a taxi at 4am, and whisked to the airport to catch my flight to Gatwick and connection back to Halifax later that morning. I wished I'd spent another couple days in Dublin, but it was nice to get in a quick visit with my friends, and check out my old stomping grounds. All round, it was a great trip - some fantastic sights, good friends, food, and shopping. I will never stay away from Europe for so long again!
15 July 2009
New Driveway
Finally! We've had our driveway repaved - the last of the jobs remaining to be done from the re-landscaping of our property. The driveway was torn up two years ago, when we had structural work done on our shed. It's been a mess of patchy, broken asphalt and gravel ever since.
Here's the driveway (bisected by retaining walls and a new brick path) just before the work started:
Here's how it looks now (photographed while the asphalt was still steaming hot!)
Very good, when guests come over, to have parking for 3-4 cars again (since our street has almost no visitor parking). And it'll be a hell of a lot easier to clear snow now, in the winter. Plus, it just makes everything look nicer. Except the door to the shed - boy, does it look shabby now in comparison. I'll be putting the scraping and repainting of that on my To Do list - it never ends, when you're a homeowner!
Here's the driveway (bisected by retaining walls and a new brick path) just before the work started:
Here's how it looks now (photographed while the asphalt was still steaming hot!)
Very good, when guests come over, to have parking for 3-4 cars again (since our street has almost no visitor parking). And it'll be a hell of a lot easier to clear snow now, in the winter. Plus, it just makes everything look nicer. Except the door to the shed - boy, does it look shabby now in comparison. I'll be putting the scraping and repainting of that on my To Do list - it never ends, when you're a homeowner!
30 June 2009
Garden Photo Diary for June
June's garden pics are now posted here at Flickr. I think June is possibly my favourite month in the garden. I get lilacs, lilies of the valley, and lupins - what more could you ask for?
28 June 2009
England/Ireland Trip, Part 3: Chelsea, Baby (Plus an Audience With Sir Graham of Norton)
On Wednesday morning (20 May), I went back to Bloomsbury to meet my other doctoral supervisor, P.T., at the Institute of Historical Research, where she works now. While J. struck out for Covent Garden and some shopping, I had coffee and a chat with P.T., who is now a senior, very highly-regarded professor at the University of London. She told me a bit about her current research on unwed motherhood in the early 20th century, for which she is delving into the archives of a British NGO representing the interests of single mums, but which had its historical foundation as a charitable society for so-called "girls in trouble".
On my way back to the Tube station, I was tickled to be approached in Russell Square by a pair of Japanese tourists, who asked me for directions to the British Museum (which of course I happily gave). Then I went to meet J., took a spin around Covent Garden, and had lunch before heading to Sloane Square for another fab London Walk. This one was through Chelsea - formerly an artists' haunt, now characterised by exclusive, gazillion-pound properties (I believe our guide said the average property price in the area is around £2m). We walked all sorts of little back streets, filled with exquisite homes marked with more Blue Plaques (designating that a significant person had once lived there) than you could shake a stick at. We also bypassed both the Chelsea Physic Garden (ca. 1673) and the Royal Hospital (ca. 1682 and designed by Christopher Wren), where we beheld the queues for the Flower Show being held on its grounds that week. When we saw the big banner indicating that the show was sold out, we felt all pleased with ourselves for having booked tickets months before. There was even a tout outside the gate, flogging show tickets and asking if anyone had tickets to sell! As J. remarked, only in England could this happen for a flower show, of all things!
We had another busy evening planned, so we zoomed back to our flat for a quick pitstop, before heading to Waterloo station and London Studios on the South Bank, where Graham Norton awaited us! We got to the studio and joined the queue about an hour beforehand, and as it turned out, just in the nick of time. We were among the final group admitted, and were seated in the very back row - there were probably at least 100 disappointed people behind us!
Still, we made it. It was pretty neat to see what goes on behind the scenes, when making a show like that. After Graham came out to chat with us before the taping began, we found out that the guests were the actress Isabella Rossellini and Alistair McGowan (a well-known mimic in the UK). Surreptitiously-snapped photo (pics were verboten on set) here!
Rossellini talked quite a lot about her latest "artistic" project, Green Porno (!), in which she directed and starred in a series of short films about the reproductive lives of animals. Seriously. J. thought it must surely be a joke, but it is not!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O6s2HfSHHsQ
You can watch the rest of them, should you be so inclined, on the Sundance Channel or YouTube!
The evening's musical guest was, of all people, the rather loopy actress Juliette Lewis, whose performance was, uh, interesting (she's nowhere near the badass rawk chick she seems to think she is). Still in all, getting to see the show taping was a pretty cool experience - not as funny as some of the episodes I've seen, but still a lot of fun. Given the high culture of our previous evening at the Globe, we had unquestionably gone from the sublime to the ridiculous, in the space of 24 hours. ;-)
We decided to devote the following morning to some shopping in Oxford Street, as we didn't want to battle the weekend crowds. En route, we took a half-hour to visit the wonderful, medieval (and underappreciated) Southwark Cathedral, which is right across the road from London Bridge station and which we'd been walking past all week. Soon, however, we arrived at Oxford Circus, ground zero for all the big UK and European high-street chains. While J. attained fashion nirvana at Karen Millen, I headed for Bravissimo where I had a professional lingerie fitting. As I have been an aficionado of their catalogue for many years, I was rather shocked to discover I am not the size I thought I was! Eeps. So of course I had to buy some new things (haha) including that elusive item, the well-fitting bikini. I do wish they had an equivalent in North America. On that note, I also ended up in H&M (still waiting for one of those in Eastern Canada), where I bought a fantastic peacock-print wrap dress designed by Matthew Williamson. Later, I got another lovely 'origami' dress at Principles, at 70% off. Yah!
All in all, a profitable morning. We skipped home to dump our bags and get changed, then headed back to Piccadilly in the West End, and Browns Hotel. I had booked us in for afternoon tea that day - and what a meal it was. Unquestionably, the finest hotel afternoon tea I've ever had. Other top hotels in London should take note - originally, I'd hoped we could have tea at the legendary Palm Court at the Ritz, but trying to make a reservation there was ridiculous. Even as far back as February, the only times they could offer us were 11am or 7pm! Are they kidding? It's called afternoon tea, after all - obviously, they're just trying to get as many bodies as possible through the door, which is terrible.
At Browns, tea is served as it ought to be, between 3 and 6pm, in their elegant, classic, yet unpretentious English Tea Room.
They had an extensive tea selection (with an in-house "tea sommelier" on hand to advise) and the food was truly excellent - classic, with a few innovative flourishes. Given that we were there the week of the Chelsea Flower Show, we were served a floral-themed tea, which was delightful. The menu was:
Not only was the food wonderful, but the service was faultless. During our meal, we were offered more sarnies and scones if we wanted them (unusual, especially at a high-end hotel). And when the server came round partway through our meal to ask if we'd like our tea refreshed, I assumed he'd just give us more hot water. But no - he took away the pots and refilled them with fresh leaves. And at the end of our meal, we were even given little bags to take away, with samples of the particular tea we'd chosen that afternoon (I went with the Brown's Afternoon blend). So many thoughtful touches - I was extremely impressed. Just goes to show that when it comes to afternoon tea, it's really best to keep it simple, stick to the classics, and do them well. If it were up to me, staff at the Peninsula in Hong Kong would be sent there for training!
Well-stuffed with this fine repast, we gathered ourselves together and got ready to head off to our next stop - the Chelsea Flower Show itself. (While waiting for J. to return from the ladies, I watched an archetypal fat-cat Russian oligarch roll in for tea, accompanied by his modelesque girlfriend dressed head-to-toe in designer gear and carrying a massive status handbag. Pretty funny.)
We thought we'd walk to the Flower Show, so that we could cut through Green Park and so J. could have a gawp at Bucks Palace. But by the time we'd done that, it was getting late and we wanted to maximize our time, so we hopped into a black taxicab which deposited us near the entrance to the show. I was excited about attending, since it's such a big deal (and strangely, a major fixture on the British social calendar, as well). I had never attended before, as it's a bit expensive if you're not a member of the Royal Horticultural Society - we had evening tickets, for admittance between 5.30 and 8pm, and they were the cheapest at £18. It turned out to be quite the event! The site itself is absolutely enormous, and a bit overwhelming - you would probably need 1-2 days to see absolutely everything. So we concentrated on seeing the main exhibition hall (where all the prize specimens were on display, from growers around the British Isles), as well as the 'show gardens' which are designed by famous gardeners, by invitation.
I took pictures feverishly, until my camera battery died!
Of course, we saved time for shopping - probably half the show is taken up by vendors, selling every kind of garden-related paraphenalia you can think of. It was all simply gorgeous, and we were lucky also that the weather cooperated and it was mild and sunny. A fantastic day, all round - hard to imagine how it could have been better!
________________________________
Next: Bermondsey, Brixton, Brick Lane. And wonderful Westminster.
On my way back to the Tube station, I was tickled to be approached in Russell Square by a pair of Japanese tourists, who asked me for directions to the British Museum (which of course I happily gave). Then I went to meet J., took a spin around Covent Garden, and had lunch before heading to Sloane Square for another fab London Walk. This one was through Chelsea - formerly an artists' haunt, now characterised by exclusive, gazillion-pound properties (I believe our guide said the average property price in the area is around £2m). We walked all sorts of little back streets, filled with exquisite homes marked with more Blue Plaques (designating that a significant person had once lived there) than you could shake a stick at. We also bypassed both the Chelsea Physic Garden (ca. 1673) and the Royal Hospital (ca. 1682 and designed by Christopher Wren), where we beheld the queues for the Flower Show being held on its grounds that week. When we saw the big banner indicating that the show was sold out, we felt all pleased with ourselves for having booked tickets months before. There was even a tout outside the gate, flogging show tickets and asking if anyone had tickets to sell! As J. remarked, only in England could this happen for a flower show, of all things!
We had another busy evening planned, so we zoomed back to our flat for a quick pitstop, before heading to Waterloo station and London Studios on the South Bank, where Graham Norton awaited us! We got to the studio and joined the queue about an hour beforehand, and as it turned out, just in the nick of time. We were among the final group admitted, and were seated in the very back row - there were probably at least 100 disappointed people behind us!
Still, we made it. It was pretty neat to see what goes on behind the scenes, when making a show like that. After Graham came out to chat with us before the taping began, we found out that the guests were the actress Isabella Rossellini and Alistair McGowan (a well-known mimic in the UK). Surreptitiously-snapped photo (pics were verboten on set) here!
Rossellini talked quite a lot about her latest "artistic" project, Green Porno (!), in which she directed and starred in a series of short films about the reproductive lives of animals. Seriously. J. thought it must surely be a joke, but it is not!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O6s2HfSHHsQ
You can watch the rest of them, should you be so inclined, on the Sundance Channel or YouTube!
The evening's musical guest was, of all people, the rather loopy actress Juliette Lewis, whose performance was, uh, interesting (she's nowhere near the badass rawk chick she seems to think she is). Still in all, getting to see the show taping was a pretty cool experience - not as funny as some of the episodes I've seen, but still a lot of fun. Given the high culture of our previous evening at the Globe, we had unquestionably gone from the sublime to the ridiculous, in the space of 24 hours. ;-)
We decided to devote the following morning to some shopping in Oxford Street, as we didn't want to battle the weekend crowds. En route, we took a half-hour to visit the wonderful, medieval (and underappreciated) Southwark Cathedral, which is right across the road from London Bridge station and which we'd been walking past all week. Soon, however, we arrived at Oxford Circus, ground zero for all the big UK and European high-street chains. While J. attained fashion nirvana at Karen Millen, I headed for Bravissimo where I had a professional lingerie fitting. As I have been an aficionado of their catalogue for many years, I was rather shocked to discover I am not the size I thought I was! Eeps. So of course I had to buy some new things (haha) including that elusive item, the well-fitting bikini. I do wish they had an equivalent in North America. On that note, I also ended up in H&M (still waiting for one of those in Eastern Canada), where I bought a fantastic peacock-print wrap dress designed by Matthew Williamson. Later, I got another lovely 'origami' dress at Principles, at 70% off. Yah!
All in all, a profitable morning. We skipped home to dump our bags and get changed, then headed back to Piccadilly in the West End, and Browns Hotel. I had booked us in for afternoon tea that day - and what a meal it was. Unquestionably, the finest hotel afternoon tea I've ever had. Other top hotels in London should take note - originally, I'd hoped we could have tea at the legendary Palm Court at the Ritz, but trying to make a reservation there was ridiculous. Even as far back as February, the only times they could offer us were 11am or 7pm! Are they kidding? It's called afternoon tea, after all - obviously, they're just trying to get as many bodies as possible through the door, which is terrible.
At Browns, tea is served as it ought to be, between 3 and 6pm, in their elegant, classic, yet unpretentious English Tea Room.
They had an extensive tea selection (with an in-house "tea sommelier" on hand to advise) and the food was truly excellent - classic, with a few innovative flourishes. Given that we were there the week of the Chelsea Flower Show, we were served a floral-themed tea, which was delightful. The menu was:
Sandwiches (roast beef, smoked salmon, turkey, egg)
Scones with rose and strawberry jam, and clotted cream
Violet blueberry macaroons
Orange-blossom cake
Victoria sponge
Strawberries and elderflower cream
Scones with rose and strawberry jam, and clotted cream
Violet blueberry macaroons
Orange-blossom cake
Victoria sponge
Strawberries and elderflower cream
Not only was the food wonderful, but the service was faultless. During our meal, we were offered more sarnies and scones if we wanted them (unusual, especially at a high-end hotel). And when the server came round partway through our meal to ask if we'd like our tea refreshed, I assumed he'd just give us more hot water. But no - he took away the pots and refilled them with fresh leaves. And at the end of our meal, we were even given little bags to take away, with samples of the particular tea we'd chosen that afternoon (I went with the Brown's Afternoon blend). So many thoughtful touches - I was extremely impressed. Just goes to show that when it comes to afternoon tea, it's really best to keep it simple, stick to the classics, and do them well. If it were up to me, staff at the Peninsula in Hong Kong would be sent there for training!
Well-stuffed with this fine repast, we gathered ourselves together and got ready to head off to our next stop - the Chelsea Flower Show itself. (While waiting for J. to return from the ladies, I watched an archetypal fat-cat Russian oligarch roll in for tea, accompanied by his modelesque girlfriend dressed head-to-toe in designer gear and carrying a massive status handbag. Pretty funny.)
We thought we'd walk to the Flower Show, so that we could cut through Green Park and so J. could have a gawp at Bucks Palace. But by the time we'd done that, it was getting late and we wanted to maximize our time, so we hopped into a black taxicab which deposited us near the entrance to the show. I was excited about attending, since it's such a big deal (and strangely, a major fixture on the British social calendar, as well). I had never attended before, as it's a bit expensive if you're not a member of the Royal Horticultural Society - we had evening tickets, for admittance between 5.30 and 8pm, and they were the cheapest at £18. It turned out to be quite the event! The site itself is absolutely enormous, and a bit overwhelming - you would probably need 1-2 days to see absolutely everything. So we concentrated on seeing the main exhibition hall (where all the prize specimens were on display, from growers around the British Isles), as well as the 'show gardens' which are designed by famous gardeners, by invitation.
I took pictures feverishly, until my camera battery died!
Of course, we saved time for shopping - probably half the show is taken up by vendors, selling every kind of garden-related paraphenalia you can think of. It was all simply gorgeous, and we were lucky also that the weather cooperated and it was mild and sunny. A fantastic day, all round - hard to imagine how it could have been better!
________________________________
Next: Bermondsey, Brixton, Brick Lane. And wonderful Westminster.
27 June 2009
New Curtains
Four years ago, I made Roman blinds for both our living room and the French doors in the dining room. While I was really happy with how the dining room ones turned out, I thought the ones in the living room were just OK. They looked like this:
The central one is a little too wide to be practical - plus, they don't do much to keep out cold draughts during winter. So last year, I started thinking about hanging proper lined curtains there instead.
Over the winter, I bought some fabric I really liked, on sale. And then I decided to hire a professional to do the actual work. ;-) Not only would it take loads of time and patience for me to learn how to make lined curtains, but I had no physical space to do so over the past few months. So based on the recommendation of some friends, I got them made up at the local fabric store. It cost a lot less than I thought it would, and I think they look great!
(http://www.flickr.com/photos/panopticon2/3665601671/)
The central one is a little too wide to be practical - plus, they don't do much to keep out cold draughts during winter. So last year, I started thinking about hanging proper lined curtains there instead.
Over the winter, I bought some fabric I really liked, on sale. And then I decided to hire a professional to do the actual work. ;-) Not only would it take loads of time and patience for me to learn how to make lined curtains, but I had no physical space to do so over the past few months. So based on the recommendation of some friends, I got them made up at the local fabric store. It cost a lot less than I thought it would, and I think they look great!
(http://www.flickr.com/photos/panopticon2/3665601671/)
18 June 2009
England/Ireland Trip, Part 2: Brighton, Bloomsbury and the South Bank
On Monday (this would be 18 May), we took a day trip down to Brighton. Other than a one-day visit in 2000 to attend a ceremony for my graduation from the University of Sussex, I hadn't been back for nearly 11 years - and J. had last visited me there in 1997. The drive down was lovely and it was wonderful to see the South Downs coming into view as we drove towards the coast.
On arrival, in need of sustenance, we headed for the Mock Turtle, a landmark teahouse just off the seafront of which I have fond, fond memories from my student days. We were gutted, however, to find that it is closed on Mondays! Argh! And I had so been looking forward to some hot buttered toast, a morsel of cake, and a lovely cuppa, served on their wonderful collection of faded, chipped, mismatched china. Ah well. We had to make do with coffee in Bartholomew Square instead, before setting off for an hour's wander around the wonderful Lanes. They are unchanged (except for many of the shops, of course) and as atmospheric as ever. I was impressed with the whole town, actually - it's smartened up a good bit over the past decade, while keeping its distinctive, rather hippyish and bohemian air.
While J. contented herself with lunch at the Hotel du Vin, I hopped on the no. 25 bus (just for old time's sake) and headed out to the Sussex university campus in Falmer village, about 20 minutes away. I walked up to the far end of campus, to the Brighthelm residences where I lived for the first few months after I arrived in England in the autumn of 1995. I headed straight up the hill behind the house where I lived, but was surprised to see that the hillside was under cultivation and there were wire fences everywhere. Eventually I found a way through and was able to climb to the top of the hill, and look down at the wonderful view across the campus and away over the South Downs. I will never forget waking up my first morning there, and looking out my bedroom window at that view. The "green and pleasant land", indeed.
After I took a bunch of pictures, I headed for the Arts block and went to the office of one of my old supervisors, C.D. It was lovely catching up with her again - she's a great person and quite inspirational in many ways. She showed me the manuscript she has just submitted for a fabulous-looking book on the social history of glamour! I can't wait to read that - hell, I wish I was the one who'd written it!
After our lunch, I got the bus back into town, then walked up North Street and Western Road, popping into the shops and noticing all the changes that have taken place over the past decade. Eventually I turned right and walked up to York Avenue, and the house where I lived during most of 1998. I knew that the former owners had sold up and moved on a few years ago; as a result, the place has really changed, and sadly not for the better. The beautiful garden at the back of the house, which my studio overlooked and which the owners kept so meticulously, has been torn up and gravelled over to create tenant parking spaces. And the whole house had a whiff of neglect about it, which was sad. Feeling a bit melancholy, I went two blocks further along the road to Brunswick Place, and checked out no. 66, where I lived during 1996-97 - unlike York Avenue, it is still much the same as I remember it and retains an air of genteel shabbiness. ;-)
By then it was time to catch up with J. again, so I headed back to The Lanes and a "bar du chocolat" called Choccywoccydoodah. Silly name, oh-so-serious gourmet chocolatier. We rolled out the boat and ordered the "Decadent Chocolate Lovers' Banquet" which was so, so delicious...ooh. By rights, we should have walked back to London that evening, just to burn off the calories!
It was so nice to see Brighton again, though it also felt a little strange. My years there seem like they were a whole lifetime ago, and so much has changed. (Weirdly, over the past year I've had several vivid dreams about re-visiting the town and going to see the places where I used to live - only to find that, instead of the familiar streets I remembered, the area was all open fields. Very odd.) At the same time though, by the end of the day, I was definitely getting my bearings again, and remembering why it's such a popular and attractive place to live. I'd like to visit again sometime!
The following day, Tuesday, was the first full day in London together for J. and I. In the morning, we stayed in the neighbourhood and visited the Old Operating Theatre, about a ten-minute walk from our flat. With J. being a doctor and my interest in medical history, it made for a very interesting visit. The theatre is located away up under the rafters of what used to be the women's wards of St. Thomas' Hospital, and dates from the early nineteenth century. This was the pre-anaesthetic era, when medical students would have crowded in to watch as surgeons dosed some poor soul with alcohol or opiates, before commencing surgery. It's remarkable that it survived at all.
Afterwards, we hit the local Sainsbury's for some groceries (so nice to have our own kitchen!) before heading for Holborn tube station and the first of several wonderful London Walks we took during the week. This particular walk was "Literary Bloomsbury and the Old Museum Quarter" and it was excellent, taking us to see sights we'd never have found on our own. I love Bloomsbury, especially its wonderful squares (Red Lion, Russell, Gordon). It doesn't require much of an imaginative leap to picture Virginia Woolf, TS Eliot, and Ted and Sylvia living there...not to mention great artists like Rossetti, Morris and Burne-Jones, among others. We finished the walk with a stroll past Senate House at the University of London (inspiration for the Ministry of Truth in Orwell's 1984!) and then the forecourt of the British Museum - both places I know so well and spent a great deal of time in, as a student.
But the day was not over yet! We raced home to our apartment, made some supper, then headed out again, walking along the riverside to the Globe Theatre, about a mile away from our flat. I had never been, but after learning about it on my last trip to London and being intrigued, I suggested to J. that we give it a go, and got tickets for a performance of "Romeo & Juliet". I knew the Globe was a pretty faithful reconstruction of a theatre that had stood on the site in Shakespeare's day, but thought that it might be a bit twee and touristy. I was very happy to be wrong about that! I knew from the moment we entered that it would be something very special - members of the cast were on stage as the audience filed in, in costume, playing music and generally clowning around.
And once the performance started - well, it was unlike anything I've ever seen before. The atmosphere was magical, and the production itself very, uh, earthy (hehe...Shakespeare really did write for the common folk). We really got a sense of what it must have been like, to see these plays performed as Shakespeare himself would probably have intended. Truly, a fantastic evening!
______________________________________
In the next installment, flowers, fairies, shopping and sipping (tea, that is).
On arrival, in need of sustenance, we headed for the Mock Turtle, a landmark teahouse just off the seafront of which I have fond, fond memories from my student days. We were gutted, however, to find that it is closed on Mondays! Argh! And I had so been looking forward to some hot buttered toast, a morsel of cake, and a lovely cuppa, served on their wonderful collection of faded, chipped, mismatched china. Ah well. We had to make do with coffee in Bartholomew Square instead, before setting off for an hour's wander around the wonderful Lanes. They are unchanged (except for many of the shops, of course) and as atmospheric as ever. I was impressed with the whole town, actually - it's smartened up a good bit over the past decade, while keeping its distinctive, rather hippyish and bohemian air.
While J. contented herself with lunch at the Hotel du Vin, I hopped on the no. 25 bus (just for old time's sake) and headed out to the Sussex university campus in Falmer village, about 20 minutes away. I walked up to the far end of campus, to the Brighthelm residences where I lived for the first few months after I arrived in England in the autumn of 1995. I headed straight up the hill behind the house where I lived, but was surprised to see that the hillside was under cultivation and there were wire fences everywhere. Eventually I found a way through and was able to climb to the top of the hill, and look down at the wonderful view across the campus and away over the South Downs. I will never forget waking up my first morning there, and looking out my bedroom window at that view. The "green and pleasant land", indeed.
After I took a bunch of pictures, I headed for the Arts block and went to the office of one of my old supervisors, C.D. It was lovely catching up with her again - she's a great person and quite inspirational in many ways. She showed me the manuscript she has just submitted for a fabulous-looking book on the social history of glamour! I can't wait to read that - hell, I wish I was the one who'd written it!
After our lunch, I got the bus back into town, then walked up North Street and Western Road, popping into the shops and noticing all the changes that have taken place over the past decade. Eventually I turned right and walked up to York Avenue, and the house where I lived during most of 1998. I knew that the former owners had sold up and moved on a few years ago; as a result, the place has really changed, and sadly not for the better. The beautiful garden at the back of the house, which my studio overlooked and which the owners kept so meticulously, has been torn up and gravelled over to create tenant parking spaces. And the whole house had a whiff of neglect about it, which was sad. Feeling a bit melancholy, I went two blocks further along the road to Brunswick Place, and checked out no. 66, where I lived during 1996-97 - unlike York Avenue, it is still much the same as I remember it and retains an air of genteel shabbiness. ;-)
By then it was time to catch up with J. again, so I headed back to The Lanes and a "bar du chocolat" called Choccywoccydoodah. Silly name, oh-so-serious gourmet chocolatier. We rolled out the boat and ordered the "Decadent Chocolate Lovers' Banquet" which was so, so delicious...ooh. By rights, we should have walked back to London that evening, just to burn off the calories!
It was so nice to see Brighton again, though it also felt a little strange. My years there seem like they were a whole lifetime ago, and so much has changed. (Weirdly, over the past year I've had several vivid dreams about re-visiting the town and going to see the places where I used to live - only to find that, instead of the familiar streets I remembered, the area was all open fields. Very odd.) At the same time though, by the end of the day, I was definitely getting my bearings again, and remembering why it's such a popular and attractive place to live. I'd like to visit again sometime!
The following day, Tuesday, was the first full day in London together for J. and I. In the morning, we stayed in the neighbourhood and visited the Old Operating Theatre, about a ten-minute walk from our flat. With J. being a doctor and my interest in medical history, it made for a very interesting visit. The theatre is located away up under the rafters of what used to be the women's wards of St. Thomas' Hospital, and dates from the early nineteenth century. This was the pre-anaesthetic era, when medical students would have crowded in to watch as surgeons dosed some poor soul with alcohol or opiates, before commencing surgery. It's remarkable that it survived at all.
Afterwards, we hit the local Sainsbury's for some groceries (so nice to have our own kitchen!) before heading for Holborn tube station and the first of several wonderful London Walks we took during the week. This particular walk was "Literary Bloomsbury and the Old Museum Quarter" and it was excellent, taking us to see sights we'd never have found on our own. I love Bloomsbury, especially its wonderful squares (Red Lion, Russell, Gordon). It doesn't require much of an imaginative leap to picture Virginia Woolf, TS Eliot, and Ted and Sylvia living there...not to mention great artists like Rossetti, Morris and Burne-Jones, among others. We finished the walk with a stroll past Senate House at the University of London (inspiration for the Ministry of Truth in Orwell's 1984!) and then the forecourt of the British Museum - both places I know so well and spent a great deal of time in, as a student.
But the day was not over yet! We raced home to our apartment, made some supper, then headed out again, walking along the riverside to the Globe Theatre, about a mile away from our flat. I had never been, but after learning about it on my last trip to London and being intrigued, I suggested to J. that we give it a go, and got tickets for a performance of "Romeo & Juliet". I knew the Globe was a pretty faithful reconstruction of a theatre that had stood on the site in Shakespeare's day, but thought that it might be a bit twee and touristy. I was very happy to be wrong about that! I knew from the moment we entered that it would be something very special - members of the cast were on stage as the audience filed in, in costume, playing music and generally clowning around.
And once the performance started - well, it was unlike anything I've ever seen before. The atmosphere was magical, and the production itself very, uh, earthy (hehe...Shakespeare really did write for the common folk). We really got a sense of what it must have been like, to see these plays performed as Shakespeare himself would probably have intended. Truly, a fantastic evening!
______________________________________
In the next installment, flowers, fairies, shopping and sipping (tea, that is).
15 June 2009
England/Ireland Trip, Part 1: London, Bexleyheath and...er...Watford
N.B. I've decided to work on the travelogue from my recent trip in sections, just to try to make it more manageable. I'm working on creating an album of pics over on Flickr, but in the interim, I'll post a few to this here blog, as we go.
_________________________
Arrived at Gatwick Airport at the crack of dawn on Friday 15 May, after an overnight direct charter flight from Halifax. I went straight to the flat of our friends C. and P. (the couple whose wedding we attended in Venezuela two years ago), as they kindly offered to put me up for that evening. Their building, The Circle, is located very close to Tower Bridge, on the south bank of the Thames, and is very cool - the neighbouring buildings are old riverside warehouses, now converted into flats.
Shortly after my arrival, C. and P. headed off to work, and I dispatched myself to London Bridge train station, about a ten-minute walk away. I had plans to spend the afternoon doing one of my favourite things - visiting a National Trust property. I jumped on a train and headed east, out of the city to the town of Bexleyheath, in Kent. From there, I walked to Red House, the former home of the Arts & Crafts designer William Morris.
I have always been a great fan of Morris, and was excited to visit this remarkable property, which he designed along with some of his Pre-Raphaelite brethren. I spent some time exploring the small but lovely garden (where I had a staring contest with a red fox in the underbrush) before being taken on a guided tour of the house by a rather doddery old man who was a font of information. I took lots of photos and came away feeling quite inspired by Morris's vision.
I got back into the city around 3pm, and since I had time to kill and an all-day Travelcard to use, I took the Tube up to King's Cross-St. Pancras, to have a look at St. Pancras Station. St. Pancras has always been one of my favourite buildings in London - it's a masterpiece of Victorian Gothic architecture. During the years I lived in England, it was in a very sad state, with no regular train services; I used to pass by regularly on the way to the British Library and always wished something could be done to revive it. Fortunately, over the past decade, it has risen from the ashes, and has been completely refitted as the new home of the Eurostar service to Europe. I was absolutely gobsmacked when I walked inside, and saw the wonderful iron girders of the station's enormous glass-roofed train shed, which stretched away endlessly into the distance (my photos don't do it justice!).
The scale of the place is awesome - and the restoration of the wonderful red-brick Victorian Gothic architecture is a joy to see. Beyond the train platforms, St. Pancras is also now home to smart shops, cafes and public art, including a statue of the poet John Betjeman, who led a campaign to prevent the station being demolished in the 1960s. His pose is the very one I found myself adopting as I caught my first glimpses of the station's interior:
At the end of the Eurostar platform, this colossal sculpture can be found. It's called "The Meeting Place" and I think it's wonderful - though apparently lots of snooty art types hate it. Go figure.
Friday evening, I went for dinner with C. and P. (and baby J!) to the Butler's Wharf Chop House, on the river, in a block of buildings recently renovated by Terence Conran. We had an excellent meal - actually, throughout the trip I was really happy to discover how much easier it has become to get good food at reasonable prices in London. It used to be a nearly-impossible task!
The following morning, I was up early and off, via Tube and train, to the town of Watford, northwest of London. Not on anyone's list of touristic must-sees, is Watford - but on arrival, I got a cab to that evening's accommodation, a wonderful country-house hotel outside town called The Grove, where I met up with J. who had just arrived that morning from Montreal. We spent some time exploring the public rooms (including a suite of lounges on the ground floor, located in the original reception rooms of the old house), before hitting the spa for a swim and a steam. We had the afternoon at our leisure in Watford itself, before an early dinner. We spent the evening at a small show nearby - which, in true British style, was held outdoors in very chilly weather, with hundreds of people standing around, listening to the band, drinking and steadfastly trying to make the best of things. ;-)
On Sunday we slept late, enjoyed a fine breakfast, and crashed in the lounge with the Sunday papers before being picked up by friend and driven into central London. We spent the afternoon at Dennis Severs' House, in Folgate Street in the East End. It was my second time being there and it was every bit as incredible as I remembered. I resolved to visit every time I am in London. It is quite simply one of the most magical places I have ever been - part historic house, part art installation, part time machine. It's a bit of a well-kept secret, and an utter privilege to visit.
By the time we finished with seeing the house, it was time to check into our accommodation. We booked a one-bedroom flat for the week, in a new building in Bermondsey (about a ten-minute walk south of C. and P.'s apartment near Tower Bridge). The neighbourhood is one I would not have considered ten years ago, but it's been heavily gentrified since, and Bermondsey Street is now home to trendy boutiques and plenty of good bars and restos, as well as the famous antiques market on Fridays. Our apartment was small, but quite comfortable, with everything we needed for the week, and was only a ten-minute walk from London Bridge underground station.
Had a fantastic dinner that night at a place across the road called Village East -a classic Sunday roast with all the trimmings, and some excellent red wine. By the time we got back to our flat, unpacked, and checked our mail, I discovered we'd finally been allocated some tickets for a live taping of The Graham Norton Show on Wednesday night! Very excited about this, as we'd figured they weren't going to come through - J. and I both love Graham Norton and I'd applied online for show tickets back in February. With this piece of unexpected good luck, we knew we were in store for a fabulous week!
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Next installment: a day trip to Brighton, and more literary landmarks than we could shake a stick at...
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Arrived at Gatwick Airport at the crack of dawn on Friday 15 May, after an overnight direct charter flight from Halifax. I went straight to the flat of our friends C. and P. (the couple whose wedding we attended in Venezuela two years ago), as they kindly offered to put me up for that evening. Their building, The Circle, is located very close to Tower Bridge, on the south bank of the Thames, and is very cool - the neighbouring buildings are old riverside warehouses, now converted into flats.
Shortly after my arrival, C. and P. headed off to work, and I dispatched myself to London Bridge train station, about a ten-minute walk away. I had plans to spend the afternoon doing one of my favourite things - visiting a National Trust property. I jumped on a train and headed east, out of the city to the town of Bexleyheath, in Kent. From there, I walked to Red House, the former home of the Arts & Crafts designer William Morris.
I have always been a great fan of Morris, and was excited to visit this remarkable property, which he designed along with some of his Pre-Raphaelite brethren. I spent some time exploring the small but lovely garden (where I had a staring contest with a red fox in the underbrush) before being taken on a guided tour of the house by a rather doddery old man who was a font of information. I took lots of photos and came away feeling quite inspired by Morris's vision.
I got back into the city around 3pm, and since I had time to kill and an all-day Travelcard to use, I took the Tube up to King's Cross-St. Pancras, to have a look at St. Pancras Station. St. Pancras has always been one of my favourite buildings in London - it's a masterpiece of Victorian Gothic architecture. During the years I lived in England, it was in a very sad state, with no regular train services; I used to pass by regularly on the way to the British Library and always wished something could be done to revive it. Fortunately, over the past decade, it has risen from the ashes, and has been completely refitted as the new home of the Eurostar service to Europe. I was absolutely gobsmacked when I walked inside, and saw the wonderful iron girders of the station's enormous glass-roofed train shed, which stretched away endlessly into the distance (my photos don't do it justice!).
The scale of the place is awesome - and the restoration of the wonderful red-brick Victorian Gothic architecture is a joy to see. Beyond the train platforms, St. Pancras is also now home to smart shops, cafes and public art, including a statue of the poet John Betjeman, who led a campaign to prevent the station being demolished in the 1960s. His pose is the very one I found myself adopting as I caught my first glimpses of the station's interior:
At the end of the Eurostar platform, this colossal sculpture can be found. It's called "The Meeting Place" and I think it's wonderful - though apparently lots of snooty art types hate it. Go figure.
Friday evening, I went for dinner with C. and P. (and baby J!) to the Butler's Wharf Chop House, on the river, in a block of buildings recently renovated by Terence Conran. We had an excellent meal - actually, throughout the trip I was really happy to discover how much easier it has become to get good food at reasonable prices in London. It used to be a nearly-impossible task!
The following morning, I was up early and off, via Tube and train, to the town of Watford, northwest of London. Not on anyone's list of touristic must-sees, is Watford - but on arrival, I got a cab to that evening's accommodation, a wonderful country-house hotel outside town called The Grove, where I met up with J. who had just arrived that morning from Montreal. We spent some time exploring the public rooms (including a suite of lounges on the ground floor, located in the original reception rooms of the old house), before hitting the spa for a swim and a steam. We had the afternoon at our leisure in Watford itself, before an early dinner. We spent the evening at a small show nearby - which, in true British style, was held outdoors in very chilly weather, with hundreds of people standing around, listening to the band, drinking and steadfastly trying to make the best of things. ;-)
On Sunday we slept late, enjoyed a fine breakfast, and crashed in the lounge with the Sunday papers before being picked up by friend and driven into central London. We spent the afternoon at Dennis Severs' House, in Folgate Street in the East End. It was my second time being there and it was every bit as incredible as I remembered. I resolved to visit every time I am in London. It is quite simply one of the most magical places I have ever been - part historic house, part art installation, part time machine. It's a bit of a well-kept secret, and an utter privilege to visit.
By the time we finished with seeing the house, it was time to check into our accommodation. We booked a one-bedroom flat for the week, in a new building in Bermondsey (about a ten-minute walk south of C. and P.'s apartment near Tower Bridge). The neighbourhood is one I would not have considered ten years ago, but it's been heavily gentrified since, and Bermondsey Street is now home to trendy boutiques and plenty of good bars and restos, as well as the famous antiques market on Fridays. Our apartment was small, but quite comfortable, with everything we needed for the week, and was only a ten-minute walk from London Bridge underground station.
Had a fantastic dinner that night at a place across the road called Village East -a classic Sunday roast with all the trimmings, and some excellent red wine. By the time we got back to our flat, unpacked, and checked our mail, I discovered we'd finally been allocated some tickets for a live taping of The Graham Norton Show on Wednesday night! Very excited about this, as we'd figured they weren't going to come through - J. and I both love Graham Norton and I'd applied online for show tickets back in February. With this piece of unexpected good luck, we knew we were in store for a fabulous week!
___________________________________
Next installment: a day trip to Brighton, and more literary landmarks than we could shake a stick at...
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