Saturday
Getting ready for 8-30 on Saturday morning was quite impressive, we thought, as it seemed there was much to sort out after finishing the half term on Friday afternoon. Jude and Martin, despite having to prepare for Wilfred and Kitty too, arrived five minutes early. Incredible. Soon on our way, a monotonous chug down the A1 to Jude's sister, Ruth, in Peterborough, where the bairns are spending the next few days. Half an hour gave time for a drink, pile of biscuits, and sort out her central heating before sad farewells and back to the road.
We diverted from the A11 to seek out a village pub lunch - but were amazed to find very few pubs, and the first we did eventually find was closed, on a Saturday lunchtime for goodness sake! On we drove, and finally enjoyed a good lunch in a very friendly bar.
Directions to the hotel were inadequate, and combined with out of date mini A to Z, I suppose our diversion through the Blackwall Tunnel was unsurprising. Tonight we are off to the Albert Hall for a concert - hope I manage to stay awake.
We're on the north side of the Thames, at the top of the Isle of Dogs. Very convenient for the Docklands Light Railway, which connected us to the tube and South Kensington, leaving a short walk past various museums to the RAH. First impressions were mixed, very grand exterior, but the only open entrance was a bit grotty and the brasserie we were relying on for supper had a queue which suggested we would not be served in the 50 minutes left! Jude had a wander to the bar and discovered a source of baguettes... But by the time she was served they'd run out. Half time drinks and ice creams were similarly chaotic. The auditorium, though, is stunning, and our seats one layer from the top was great. The concert was wonderful. The best orchestra I recall hearing, Royal Philharmonic, played three pieces, two of which I knew quite well (Saint Saens "Organ" and Orff's "Carmina Burana") and was treated to a wonderful new look at old friends.
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Albert Hall Stage
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On the way back to the tube we had drinks and food in a little Italian café. Wonderful atmosphere and pizza! Back to hotel, clocks altered, Radio 4 found and diary updated. Goodnight.
Sunday
Typically, I awoke in good time on Sunday morning, helped by the extra hour summer time ending offered me. Wandering towards town was a good experience, and Tower Hamlets seems an interesting blend of lovely terraced houses, good and bad blocks of flats, public spaces and larger buildings. The maritime connections are apparent with an anchor placed in one park and the Methodist Mission to Seamen. I bought a couple of papers and sat in a busy café to read.
Most of the customers wore blue logoed sweatshirts, and one of them turned and offered me a bacon butty as they'd over ordered. We had a bit of chat, and I learned they were a gang of commercial movers who had an office to strip, move and relocate. I was even offered a day's work, 200 pounds cash... Almost tempted, but too much planned.
We all met up at 11.00 and walked down the Isle of Dogs to go through the Greenwich Tunnel. There were many signs helping us to the "Riverside Walk", which we tried. Unfortunately, these seemed to mostly be very short sections meaning we had to return to the road each time. We enjoyed our castlated walk and the views of Greenwich across the river were beautiful. Through the tunnel, then found a café for brunch. After a stroll through Greenwich Market we found ourselves outside the old Naval College where a recorder competition was advertised. We heard the first competitor, very mixed programme but universally excellent.
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Walk to Greenwich
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I was struggling to stay awake so headed back to our hotel planning a nap before heading out to look at a boat trailer. Unfortunately, my route didn't turn out to be the most efficient, and a long walk was the alternative reality!
Martin and I had a most interesting trip to view the trailer in Essex. It took about 50 minutes before we were driving up a track somewhere south of Chelmsford. Trailer seems excellent, if enormously heavy, and it took John, the owner, a long while to show us all the features. John is really quite a character and has a farmyard and outbuildings I could spend days exploring. In addition to a boat, a couple of trailers and associated chandlery (enough to fill a barn alone), there is a steam traction engine or two (and, outside, the low loader and Scammell tractor to take it around), any amount of metal stock (which a person with less imagination might call "scrap", and less still might remove the "s"), the machinery and tools to turn this stock into new things (such as parts for traction engines and trailers....) and all manner of wonderful bits and pieces. John and Audrey are a lovely couple who clearly have an enthusiasm for life and we enjoyed hearing of their boating exploits. They have used the trailer to sail all over, including Brittany last year.
Having arranged to buy the trailer on condition that John has it ready to tow away on Wednesday, Martin and I set off back to Docklands. Taking a slightly more northerly route turned out not such a great idea as we crawled slowly down many high streets. As we eventually closed on our hotel we took an early exit from a roundabout and spent a second age trying to find a way in, despite seeing the hotel from every angle. No news from the girls, so we took a few minutes relaxation.
The call came eventually, and much later than it should have as I'd put my SIM card in Jenny's phone. The girls had been to church at All Souls, in the centre of London, and (via a few calls and messages) we agreed to meet up at a Vietnamese restaurant just down the road from the hotel in Poplar. Excellent food, good atmosphere and lovely staff. Much debate about plans for Monday, so I just picked up on breakfast at eight! Sleep was incredibly welcome.
Monday
Monday morning and Jen was feeling pretty ill, ill enough to want to visit a doctor. While I met up with Martin and Jude in the hotel restaurant, Jen received advice from reception. No local surgery would see anyone other than their own patients, so an ambulance would take her to casualty! In the end, and after Jen had her day sorted, a much better solution was suggested, that she make her own way to a walk in clinic at London City Hospital in Whitechapel. While Martin and Jude took the tube into town, we bused and walked to hospital. The clinic was nurse led and excellent. Although the nurse could not prescribe, Jenny was convinced by her that she needed nothing more than a little more time to improve.
Our arrangement to meet up for lunch on the edge of Covent Garden allowed us plenty of time to walk the three or so miles. It was particularly noticeable how suddenly a culture would change. When we crossed the road from Whitechapel to City, the contrast was most stark, as the population suddenly changed from Asian to white and we were totally under dressed without suits! Also on the way was St. Botolph's church, and we enjoyed a half hour pause. It stands on the site of a saxon church, and has the oldest organ in London.
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Covent Garden
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Lunch at Sarastro was a unique experience. Bizarre but comfortable surroundings, exceptional Turkish food, brilliant staff and amazing toilet art. Afterwards Jude took us to a small museum in Lincoln's Inn Fields, but we discovered it was closed on Monday. I headed up Tottenham Court Road, while the other three visited Somerset House.
My wander ended in a dash to the Tate Modern, an incredible space whatever the exhibition. The top floor café has views which kept me fascinated as the sun set and fireworks sporadically lit the city sky. Next door, the Globe was a less successful visit as it was effectively closed for winter.
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Incredible exhibition in Tate Modern
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We'd planned supper at another Covent Garden café, and as Martin and Jude had a day's tube pass and we hadn't, a race seemed appropriate. We bused and walked, and all arrived together. Of course, we would have won if only building works hadn't closed the most convenient bus stop... A lovely meal in a veggie café (but rather cramped - maybe most vegetarians are thinner than me!) then bus back to hotel. If only we'd walked in the right direction from the bus stop... Goodnight
Tuesday
It seemed a long walk to Billingsgate fish market this morning, but, as I am getting used to, I could have used a much shorter route. The walk was worthwhile, as the quantity, quality and range of fish for sale was stunning. The entire atmosphere was wonderful, with wholesalers, dealers, fishmongers, big shop buyers, chefs of all nationalities and browsers like me all avoiding the porters running back and forth with enormous sack barrows piled high.
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Billingsgate
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Jen slept a little longer when I returned, but after breakfast we took the bus towards town, alighting at Whitechapel for Brick Lane. Although we'd gone to find an exhibition about the surveying of India, it had not occurred to us that Brick Lane is so Indian. Suppose we should have guessed when we saw it labelled "Banglatown". The exhibition was good, but the project it described is mind-boggling. The survey of India using chain and theodolite...
Meanwhile, Jude and Martin were spending a long morning at the Tower, and we had vague plans to meet up for a lunchtime concert at St Martin's in the Fields, just off Trafalgar Square (both monarch and PM live within the parish). They were enjoying the visual history too much, and we finally met at about 2.00 on the steps of the church. For a "pop in off the streets" concert the programme was very uncompromising - no Classic FM stuff here!
We walked to Lincoln's Inn Fields via enormous baked potatoes in Covent Garden, and, after queuing a short while, spent an hour in John Soane's house. Jude had described the house (now a museum) as the only place she really wanted us to see, so expectations were high... Soane was an architect and designer, who over many years owned a couple of houses next door to each other and rebuilt them to his designs. He then filled them with art, curios and artefacts collected (with, seemingly, some degree of randomness) from around the world. Today's equivalent would deserve descriptions such as "more money than sense" and "money can't buy good taste", but the fact that he did it all himself is amazing. Among the collection there are some real gems and we were so pleased with Jude's insistence.
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Martin after baked potato!
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A couple of tube rides later we stood outside the House of Commons for another vital task - the transmission of Big Ben's six o clock bell to Wilfred by mobile phone! First, Jen had to lie on the pavement to take a photo of the Hamiltons with Big Ben in the background. As the clock edged towards 6, Jude dialled her sister (who is minding the bairns) and as the clock struck the hour let Wilfred hear the chimes. We walked past the Commons (but could see no chance of entry), and eventually jumped on a bus (joys of day tickets!) which took us back to Aldwych where we took another (number 5, our favourite) back to Brick Lane, for our planned evening meal.
Walking down the street felt like being overseas, more similar to Turkey than India. Outside every restaurant there was a tout imploring us to come and eat. It does get a bit tiring, but Jenny and I are used to being polite but saying no. Jude did not enjoy this experience, and eventually we settled on a restaurant just off the main Lane where no tout offered us anything (such as 25% off etc). Excellent meal – but mine was seriously hot despite fishing the chillies out.
Wednesday
Wednesday morning Jude and I had another trip to the fish market… But again just observed. Breakfast and packing, then off to John and Audry to collect the trailer. Obviously it was in perfect condition to tow away, so we did. Next stop was Peterborough to collect the children and met up with Jude’s parents as well as her sister. Kids have had a great time, but tiring for all the minders! Long drive home, not helped by serious hold ups south of the A19 junction – the A1 was closed, and all northbound traffic was diverted to the A19 after an almost two hour hold up. We knew where we were, but the information for strangers was staggeringly poor – no follow up information once the A19 was reached, so where people ended up I’ve no idea. The trailer towed perfectly, and is now parked outside the house (with better security measures taken!).
Most of this was written as we went along on my PDA, and I’m going to post it with no editing, so you may find quirky tense uses etc. I hope it gives an indication, though, of the wonderful time we enjoyed, and the gratitude we owe to Martin and Jude. More photos will follow when Martin has looked at his….
Steve Bunning
October 2003
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