The Groundhogs on the other hand – well – at one point I did turn to Phil and say that I could see the point of tribute bands – McPhee is getting a little past his best and tends to come in early, play too fast, and his singing is unintelligable (although you are listening to a woman who still thinks that Mull of Kyntire sounds like rollicking tyres) but the bassist and the drum player (should that be drummist?)are superb. Again, you must realise, that absolutely none of these pictures were taken at the 100 club.
On Saturday we went for a walk through Holland Park – we got off the tube at Notting Hill and wandered through the back streets. We saw two police vans go past and a little while later there was a huge crowd of middle aged men milling around a pub in the middle of nowhere (obviously not in the middle of nowhere – it was in the middle of a residential area of Kensington but you know what I mean) guarded by more Police than the whole of Kent has on duty on a typical Saturday. I asked one of the Police why the middleaged men were so dangerous and she said that they were football supporters. Phil reckoned that they were probably uberdangerous as they weren’t wearing any football scarves, and were all dressed in black so they could recognise each other as they rampaged through the opposition. We turned around and went down another road, just in case they recognised us as Watford supporters.
It was one of those lovely grey winter days, perfect for wandering around back streets. We got to Holland Park – very picturesque
We were half heartedly following one of the walks from “Walking Dickensian London” – a practical impossibility when you think about it – so once we had left Holland Park were taken past several Blue Plaque houses, including the one where Holman Hunt used to live. It is a lovely part of Kensington, Jill and I had already decided which house we would buy several years ago if the lottery came through.
We went around Lord Leightons house – although Phil wasn’t as impressed with the indoor pool and tiling as I was – I can see his point though!
It is a lot more ‘turquoise’ than this picture, so is quite overwhelming, especially as the tiling is all around you!
Neither of us liked Leightons paintings, but it was satisfying to wander around wondering how on earth he made money from them. We went for a drink afterwards, in a pub where the clientele oozed money, and where Phil decided that the dress code for the rich male was now a pink shirt and jeans which look as if they have come from a charity shop. We couldn’t decide if a man leaning at the bar was a famous actor or not, and then decided that we didn’t care one way or the other anyway.
Nicely mellowed we carried on to the V&A, – only to find that the exhibition that I wanted to see had sold out for the day, and finished on Sunday. Was a bit disappointed but I had bought the catalogue already and saved £10 by not going in! Went around the usual costume exhibition and found that they had changed it around, so it was worth visiting anyway.
We went down to the SouthBank and dithered about where to eat before ending up at Livebait as usual! Although without the tesco vouchers it would have been very expensive, we are going to have to look for somewhere else. Walked from there to the Founders Arms to meet The Boy, who used to play football with Phil. Had a very enjoyable evening drinking draught Leffe, and catching up on gossip, before walking past Tate Modern and over the Millenium Bridge to St Pauls to catch the tube back to Snaresbrook. These are the trees outside Tate Modern – they are absolutely beautiful at night.
St Pauls was breathtaking.
But definitely without the monogrammed bathrobes.
On Sunday we had intended to go and watch My Friend Rosalind perform in the Twelfth Night celebrations on the South Bank – had checked the time on line and had phoned Jill to check that the time I had remembered was right – 2:45 – so we thought we had plenty of time for a wander around the City before we headed South. We set off from St Pauls again, and walked around Smithfield,
Unfortunately when we got to the Globe we found out that the Mummers had been there at 1245, not 245. We got to the George in time to say hello,
It was too crowded, so went to a pub near to Borough Market, where by complete coincidence we met a couple who we hadn’t seen for about 8 years. Isn’t it embarassing when you know a face and can’t put a name to it? Even more embarassing when they can remember you – and everything about you? Hopefully we managed to skirt around the embarassment and left to go and have dinner at a very trendy Greek restaurant called Eat Greek. – to the point. It wasn’t trendy enough to have a one syllable name though – like ‘Eat’ ‘Fish’ or ‘Roast’. We briefly discussed opening our own restaurant called ‘Eat roast fish’ but thought that the menu might be a bit limited.
Headed back over the millenium bridge and went the other way around St Pauls through Temple Arch and past the Elizabeth Frink shepherd to catch the tube back to Snaresbrook and the car.
I love London!