London #3

Another cloudless day in Olympic city. Yesterday I understand the temperature hit 32C. Locals can’t believe it - they have had nothing but rain since March. Every time I hear an ambulance (of which there are many) I think it must be another person with heatstroke!!

My plans changed slightly yesterday when I heard at breakfast, from the very nice catholic priest who is staying at Allen Hall to do some PhD writing, that the Olympic torch was to be coming down the King’s Road about 1.30pm. I thought I should be part of the spirit of it all and join the crowd. So after my library internet stint and a phone call to Jenny to arrange a catch-up on Saturday,  I caught a bus to South Kensington, not far away, and had a wee nosy round the Victoria and Albert shop – there wasn’t time for more. Then back to join the jostling throng along the King’s Road. I found a good position on the steps of the Chelsea Old Town Hall (right next to the library). Sat and chatted to a very nice local lady (who had 2 litres of icecream melting in her shopping bags but was determined to see the torch). At some point the traffic was cordoned off; then the crowd gave rousing cheers to every random police motorcycle that passed by. Such good humour and excited anticipation. Finally the advance brigade of parade vans – before, just above the heads of the crowd, I briefly saw two torches flaming as one runner passed the flame to another. Then a young woman (I don’t know who) ran, flanked by supporting runners and almost engulfed by the crowd. It was quite a moving moment – just a hint of tears. I think because people were enjoying it so much and because the logistics of organizing the torch relay to bring it within reach of 95% of the UK population (as I understood from a breakfast conversation) are quite mind-boggling and humbling. My companion gave me her plastic, made-in-China flag to keep as a souvenir and we took each other’s photos waving the flag!

Yours truly waving the flag on the steps of Chelsea Old Town Hall

In the middle of the crowd you can just see the Olympic torch...

Given the shorter afternoon I decided to go in to the National Gallery. Despite all my visits there I had forgotten how HUGE it is. So I concentrated on Titian, Rembrandt, Da Vinci, Van Dyck, Holbein…  Was particularly taken by Holbein’s portrait of Erasmus. And my all-time favourite at the National Gallery – Titian’s A man with a quilted sleeve (c1510). Then, although I was weary from accumulated days of trudging and sniffing with a return of the New Zealand cold that has never entirely disappeared, I decided to walk through Haymarket and up Regent Street – as much for sentimental reasons as anything because Regent St used to be my regular haunt when I worked in Cavendish Square. Again, I had forgotten how monumental it is – the word ‘street’ doesn’t begin to describe it. Along the full curve of Regent St there were flags – looked just stunning. 

Not so stunning the crowds who were gathering for yet another torch-relay by-pass. I decided to give this one a miss and fought my way (literally) through the bodies to get to and down the Oxford St underground and back to Allen Hall. Succumbed to a ready-made bought salad from Marks and Spencers and then glutton for punishment, I decided to 9.30pm to catch the No. 11 bus which goes from the King’s Rd across the city centre. I sat in the top font seat of the double decker and watched the night-time city passing by. Got as far as the Bank of England and then caught the tube back to Sloane Sq and bus to Beaufort St. 11.00pm before I got in, utterly exhausted.