Friday, March 06, 2009
One day
Yesterday, to London, to chase haunts old and new.
Started off well, climbing aboard a train from Southwest trains which had not been cleaned since the morning rush-hour and so found a complete copy of the 'Financial Times'. Quite a treat to get a proper newspaper free these days of improper newspapers free. I remember that many years ago I used to get a nearly new copy of the DT from the same rubbish bin along the Strand (attached to a lamp-post), more or less every day, the only damage being that the owner had done the crossword. Not a problem for me as I can't do crosswords other than the quizword in the 'Sun', either then or now. Off at Waterloo to take refreshment at the Archduke. Excellent lager at a strong price. Reminded that the staff there are trained to fill the glass a centimetre from the top, adding perhaps 10% to the price of a pint. Didn't challenge on this occasion.
Thus fortified, up the steps onto the new Hungerford foot bridge. Reminded that whoever designed this otherwise decent bridge did not manage the steps onto it very well. A common problem with such things, this transition from the mud on the ground to the gold on the artwork. Entertained on the bridge by the passage of a small herd of young ladies, scantily dressed for what looked like tennis. Whatever were they up to?
Pushed on through Charing Cross station up to the empty plinth at Trafalgar Square, in the vain hope of inspiration against my being one the lucky 2,500 punters selected to do his or her bit for one hour sometime later this year. Failing there, on into the National Gallery to take another gander at the early Italians in the extension, following last year's trip to Florence (October, reported in various ways at the time). Good stuff. While one misses the special buzz of seeing the things (often in the dark) in their original homes, in their original setting, and one does not get the star attractions that the Florentines have hung onto, one does get a good selection, well hung and well lit in one place. See a lot of development in a small compass. Intrigued on this occasion by the passage, of the supporting cast in the paintings, from adoration of the subject to a passer-by, possibly having a chat with their neighbour about the weather or posing for the painter with an elegant crook of a nicely shaped hosiered knee. By the special place of cucumbers in the iconography of the day. Must investigate what all that was about. Must go more often.
Then time for refreshment again so repaired to a Chinese buffet in the passage between the southwest corner of Leicester Square and the National Portrait Gallery. As much as you want to eat for £4.95, tea extra. The buffet included a reasonable selection, including an interesting cabbage dish I had never had before. Large chunks of bright green cabbage, lightly cooked so one still got the tang that one gets from raw Brussells sprouts, cooked with slices of garlic, some bean sprouts and no doubt other bits and peices. Very good it was to.
Solid needs attended to, time for Wetherspoons in the square where a drink and a half cost a good deal less than one drink at the Archduke. Served to a centimetre from the top again, by an entirely new barmaid (so new that she needed the support of two assistant (male) managers). Moved to challenge this time whereupon one of the assistant managers filled to the brim without a murmur. Luck clearly in as I was able to scrounge a copy of 'El Mundo' here, from which I wa able to extract some news. It seems, in particular that the Princess Royal opened a hospital in Gibralter the day before yesterday, having been greeted by a marine band playing selections from Indiana Jones. Odd that the Spanish, the French and the Germans (to name but three which I know of) all have world newspapers while we do not. I think there is a Boston Globe but that is over the water, even if in a rather English part of the US. I learn from today's DT that the Spanish foreign ministry has protested the visit as being an insult to the sovereignty, integrity and honesty of the Spanish people.
Back through Horse Guards into Whitehall to inspect the castle wall being erected by Murphy's men (the Murphy who once went to jail for massive tax evasion) along the western side of Whitehall, the rustication of the ground floor of these solid, classical revival buildings notwithstanding. Must be costing a fortune. Not impressed to find the thoroughfare emcumbered with yet another second world war memorial - there must have been a dozen or more new ones in the last dozen or so years - this time to wimmen at war. An ugly black affair got up to look like a full coatrack. I wonder who was on the selection committee that commissioned the thing? Not the sort of thing that the previous Mayor of London would go in for. Perhaps the new one likes it.
Strolled west down the south embankment to the Black Dog in Vauxhall Walk. Past Millbank Tower looking as handsome as ever, a building the designer of which managed to get the transition from the ground to the artwork right. It sort of floats on a cloud of trees and the pillars of a seeemingly open plan but dark and mysterious ground floor. Only slightly let down by the downstream mid rise block which is not quite right. Somewhere along the way came across a young lady jogger with a racing baby buggy that she could push while jogging. Wheels much like those of a regular bicycle but not quite so big.
On arrival find that the Black Dog is now The Lavender, a gastro-pub with an open plan stainless steel kitchen taking up a good proportion of what used to be the bar. A couple of quite decent jars there and then off home to the home comforts of TB. No changes there, I am pleased to record.
Started off well, climbing aboard a train from Southwest trains which had not been cleaned since the morning rush-hour and so found a complete copy of the 'Financial Times'. Quite a treat to get a proper newspaper free these days of improper newspapers free. I remember that many years ago I used to get a nearly new copy of the DT from the same rubbish bin along the Strand (attached to a lamp-post), more or less every day, the only damage being that the owner had done the crossword. Not a problem for me as I can't do crosswords other than the quizword in the 'Sun', either then or now. Off at Waterloo to take refreshment at the Archduke. Excellent lager at a strong price. Reminded that the staff there are trained to fill the glass a centimetre from the top, adding perhaps 10% to the price of a pint. Didn't challenge on this occasion.
Thus fortified, up the steps onto the new Hungerford foot bridge. Reminded that whoever designed this otherwise decent bridge did not manage the steps onto it very well. A common problem with such things, this transition from the mud on the ground to the gold on the artwork. Entertained on the bridge by the passage of a small herd of young ladies, scantily dressed for what looked like tennis. Whatever were they up to?
Pushed on through Charing Cross station up to the empty plinth at Trafalgar Square, in the vain hope of inspiration against my being one the lucky 2,500 punters selected to do his or her bit for one hour sometime later this year. Failing there, on into the National Gallery to take another gander at the early Italians in the extension, following last year's trip to Florence (October, reported in various ways at the time). Good stuff. While one misses the special buzz of seeing the things (often in the dark) in their original homes, in their original setting, and one does not get the star attractions that the Florentines have hung onto, one does get a good selection, well hung and well lit in one place. See a lot of development in a small compass. Intrigued on this occasion by the passage, of the supporting cast in the paintings, from adoration of the subject to a passer-by, possibly having a chat with their neighbour about the weather or posing for the painter with an elegant crook of a nicely shaped hosiered knee. By the special place of cucumbers in the iconography of the day. Must investigate what all that was about. Must go more often.
Then time for refreshment again so repaired to a Chinese buffet in the passage between the southwest corner of Leicester Square and the National Portrait Gallery. As much as you want to eat for £4.95, tea extra. The buffet included a reasonable selection, including an interesting cabbage dish I had never had before. Large chunks of bright green cabbage, lightly cooked so one still got the tang that one gets from raw Brussells sprouts, cooked with slices of garlic, some bean sprouts and no doubt other bits and peices. Very good it was to.
Solid needs attended to, time for Wetherspoons in the square where a drink and a half cost a good deal less than one drink at the Archduke. Served to a centimetre from the top again, by an entirely new barmaid (so new that she needed the support of two assistant (male) managers). Moved to challenge this time whereupon one of the assistant managers filled to the brim without a murmur. Luck clearly in as I was able to scrounge a copy of 'El Mundo' here, from which I wa able to extract some news. It seems, in particular that the Princess Royal opened a hospital in Gibralter the day before yesterday, having been greeted by a marine band playing selections from Indiana Jones. Odd that the Spanish, the French and the Germans (to name but three which I know of) all have world newspapers while we do not. I think there is a Boston Globe but that is over the water, even if in a rather English part of the US. I learn from today's DT that the Spanish foreign ministry has protested the visit as being an insult to the sovereignty, integrity and honesty of the Spanish people.
Back through Horse Guards into Whitehall to inspect the castle wall being erected by Murphy's men (the Murphy who once went to jail for massive tax evasion) along the western side of Whitehall, the rustication of the ground floor of these solid, classical revival buildings notwithstanding. Must be costing a fortune. Not impressed to find the thoroughfare emcumbered with yet another second world war memorial - there must have been a dozen or more new ones in the last dozen or so years - this time to wimmen at war. An ugly black affair got up to look like a full coatrack. I wonder who was on the selection committee that commissioned the thing? Not the sort of thing that the previous Mayor of London would go in for. Perhaps the new one likes it.
Strolled west down the south embankment to the Black Dog in Vauxhall Walk. Past Millbank Tower looking as handsome as ever, a building the designer of which managed to get the transition from the ground to the artwork right. It sort of floats on a cloud of trees and the pillars of a seeemingly open plan but dark and mysterious ground floor. Only slightly let down by the downstream mid rise block which is not quite right. Somewhere along the way came across a young lady jogger with a racing baby buggy that she could push while jogging. Wheels much like those of a regular bicycle but not quite so big.
On arrival find that the Black Dog is now The Lavender, a gastro-pub with an open plan stainless steel kitchen taking up a good proportion of what used to be the bar. A couple of quite decent jars there and then off home to the home comforts of TB. No changes there, I am pleased to record.
# posted by Jim @ 8:34 AM 
