London #2

It is 6.00am. Through the open window I can hear the heavy drone of traffic, a helicopter, intermittent sirens, a church bell, the odd bird. The sounds of the city are ever-present. It is both stimulating and wearying at the same time.

Yesterday, after my session at the Chelsea Library, I got bus and tube to the Old Street station in Shoreditch. On the tube I sat next to a lovely big dog and his man. Such a well-behaved dog in the stiflingly hot, busy underground carriage. I fondled his ears and he lay on my feet. His owner was lovely too.  (The helicopter is now directly overhead). Shoreditch was a completely new area to me and I navigated my way with a little difficulty, and by dint of asking when I was unsure, from Old Street to the Geffrye Museum. By the time I got there I was dripping – so hot.

The Geffrye Museum is housed in what were the almshouses of the Ironmongers’ Company (18^th century). A most unexpected oasis of calm and beauty in an exceptionally chaotic part of London.

The museum explores the evolution of the English home over the past 400 years, showing how ‘homes have been used and furnished, reflecting changes in society and patterns of behavior as well as style, fashion and taste’. It is set up as a series of rooms, reflecting changes over time. Very well done.  Especially well set up for children and educational purposes. Thought-provoking too.

From the Geffrye I found a bus back to Old Street and then tube to St Pancras – my stop for the British Library and specifically to see a special exhibition called Writing Britain: Wastelands to Wonderlands – an exploration of literature and place. Oh, this was amazing! Could have spent days there. Set up thematically – rural dreams, dark satanic mills, wild places, beyond the city, cockney visions and waterlands. Original manuscripts, letters, sketches, diaries from an array of British writers. From Chaucer to JK Rowling. One of the incidental things that struck me was how small the writing of many of the earlier authors was. Magnifying-glass small. I guess paper was valuable; but I also wonder whether there was a subconscious desire to ‘hide’ what was in the making. Heavens knows how publishers/printers deciphered these works. Love for the land and fear for its future were consistent threads.

Back outside the British Library and round the corner, heading for the tube station, there was a noisy demonstration on the other side of the road outside the monumental St Pancras Hotel. Always interested in demonstrations and wanting to find out more about this one, I loitered along with many others on what must have been one of the busiest roads, right next to a national and international train terminal. Police were arriving in vans all the time and we (the spectators, mostly Indian) kept being moved along the pavement (from where we would gradually edge back to the entrance to the hotel). I got talking to an Indian lass who had recently come to London from Dubai and she explained that it was a protest aimed at the Bangladeshi Prime Minister who was staying at the hotel for the opening of the Olympics. Very interesting and reminded me of arriving in Berlin years ago and walking down Unter Den Linden right into a great big, noisy demonstration. Something very satisfying about the contrast between the calm of the British Library and the chaos of democracy in action on the streets! I was probably there for a good hour, watching.

Finally back briefly to Allen Hall before going out again, along the Chelsea embankment to see the Chelsea Physic Garden which was open late. I have always been interested in the healing properties of herbs and so to wander round this garden, established in 1673 by the Society of Apothecaries, was a delight. Again it is one of those peaceful enclaves that abound in an otherwise hectic and relentless city. By the time I finally returned to my room, about 9.30pm I was exhausted. Literally on the streets (!) for 12 hours.

So far I have been unable to make contact with Jenny. Lily I had a long chat with on the phone. She and Les are both unwell and I got the sense that a phone conversation might be better than a visit. We’ll see.


A paucity of photos but they just take too long to upload at the Chelsea Public Library!!