Weekly Roundup #5

And so I've now completed my fifth full week in London. I'm not counting my first few days, a half week, when I was dazed and confused and ran around doing all sorts of errands. The fifth week was variable, with some full days and others shorter down to weather or exhaustion. 

The wretched weather of the previous weekend -- cold, gray and intermittent downpours -- carried on into the early parts of the week. Monday was the worst of it, so I headed to the City to go to the Museum of London. Although I've been there many times in recent years to see special exhibitions, it was in 1998 when I last did the whole history of London through time. I reckoned it was now or never, as the museum will close at the end of 2022 before reopening in new space in the former Smithfield General Market. The new space is going to be fabulous, without a doubt. Back in 1998, you went to the top of the museum and then followed a circular, downward spiral through the ages, with lots of dioramas showing bronze age, Roman and Medieval times in London. Currently, each age/era has its own gallery, with well-displayed exhibits of objects and artifacts. Other than the Bronze age gallery where there was a hoard of primary school children, the galleries were very quiet. I particularly liked the Roman gallery, where there were examples of Roman houses and shops, with mosaic tile floors and painted walls. I also enjoyed the "street" of Victorian shops, which I think I'd seen before, and the Modern London gallery, which I'd not seen. Here's an elevator car from Selfridges:

Also in the Modern London gallery are objects related to the Windrush generation (1950s), London in the swinging 60s and various manufacturing concerns that shuttered in the 1970s and 80s. 

On my way to and from the Museum of London, I looked at bits of the old London Wall (medieval on top of Roman) and the ruins of some church or another.

Call me crazy, but I thought that, as it was close by, I'd go to the library in the Barbican to see Londoners Underground: Private Worlds in Public Places, a series of small paintings of people on the tube. Many people recoil in horror when you mention the Barbican Estate. I actually like the brutalist architecture of the residential complex, but I get utterly turned around every time I venture in (if I can even find a way in, let alone a way out). They don't call it the Bloody Barbican for nothing. After asking two employees to point me in the right direction, I finally found the library and enjoyed the exhibition. The works are for sale, but alas the ones at my price point had all been sold. In its defense, I must say that the Barbican Centre itself -- where the library, theatres, concert hall, cinema and art gallery are located -- is a splendid facility and has a very nice cafe, where I bought an apple flapjack to eat on my way home. It was dark, windy and rainy by the time I eventually emerged from the Barbican and found my way back to Moorgate station.

Tuesday started with a lot of promise, but it quickly turned pear shaped in mid-afternoon. I began the day by going over to Tufnell Park to have tea with my last AirBnB host. It was so nice to catch up on what we'd been doing for the past three years, when the pandemic shot everything to hell. She's built a cabin in Devon with her own hands; I, on the other hand, have sorted LPs and CDs every week at a charity shop. Seeing Sheila and being back in Celia Road made me so nostalgic for the 16 days I spent there in 2019 -- at that time, my longest and most independent trip to London, in the pre-covid era when life seemed so much simpler and the world less threatening. 

The skies were blue when I left Tufnell Park, so I decided to walk towards Gospel Oak to pick up what I didn't do of the Kentish Town walk that I'd started the previous week. I walked north to Little Green Street, a lovely intact Georgian street that I've visited often in the past, starting when it was under threat of demolition (it has survived and is unchanged, thank goodness).

I then headed southward, mooching around and taking photos.

I got as far as Blustons, the 1930s-era former ladieswear shop in the Kentish Town Road that I wrote about in last week's post. When I'd been there earlier, the charity shop that now occupies the space had been closed. This day it was open and I arrived not a moment too soon as the skies opened and a torrent of rain poured down. While waiting out the downpour, I had a look at the shop interior, displays and fixtures. Some of the original bits remain, including a couple of glass display cases now holding vintage jewelry as well as some clothes racks. The pink and mint green walls give it a distinct vintage vibe. It's small, however, and there's not a whole lot of stock. Also, it's not nearly as well organized as the Cancer Connection Thrift Shop at home where I volunteer. 

The rain let up and I continued onward, buying a cheap sandwich and heading for a park where I could sit on a bench to eat my lunch. I was half way through my sandwich when the rain resumed with a vengeance and so I pushed on, dashing to Camden Town, where I ducked into the new Camden Market Hawley Wharf to find a toilet and dry off a bit. I'm not sure how viable this place is as a shopping destination. The toilets were clean and the food vendors seemed to be doing a decent trade, but I saw next to no one in the shops. The whole thing was so depressing that, once the rain let up a bit, I scarpered to the nearest bus stop and back to my gaff in Belsize Park. That evening I saw a preview performance of Blackout Songs at the Hampstead Theatre (the ticket was only a fiver). 

Wednesday turned out to be a far, far better day in terms of weather, interesting activities and good company in the person of my friend Malcolm, one of my longest-term mates in London. I set out early to catch the number 31 bus from Primrose Hill to Chepstow Crescent, near to where Malcolm lives in Notting Hill. The bus was full of the very old and the very young -- quite a few OAPs, mums and nannys lugging prams and push chairs onboard, and various babies and toddlers. The route took me through the area between Kilburn and Westbourne Park, where Roger used to live and which estate agents call Maida Hill. Essentially, it's Shirland, Chippenham, Elgin Avenue and the Harrow Road. Roger lived just off Fernhead, a wee bit west of the bus route, and I stayed with him there on six or seven visits to London. This patch, which was never upscale to my knowledge, is looking even more down at the heels. Houses and shops seemed shabbier and it felt like the past few years haven't been kind to the area. Malcolm confirmed my sense of things, saying that, for better or worse, the push of gentrification that has swept over much of London seems to have overlooked this corner. 

We took a scenic walk southwards, around Camden Hill (which isn't in Camden), into Holland Park down to the Design Museum where we spent a good chunk of time in the exhibition Objects of Desire: Surrealism and Design 1924 - Today. There was so much to see, and interesting wall text to read, that I entirely forgot to take photos to show you, but for one of a glass-topped table with bicycle wheels instead of legs.

The weather was warm, the sun was shining, and our lunch from Waitrose that we ate while sat on a bench in Holland Park was the perfect fortification after our time at the museum. We next walked along Kensington High Street to the Japan House, a centre that showcases Japanese design and culture through exhibits, events, etc. The current exhibition is The Carpenters' Line, highlighting the incredible woodcarving that for centuries has come from the Hida region. We looked at various hand carving tools and marveled at the intricate and beautiful wooden products made by these highly skilled craftspeople. 

A ramble northward through St Mary Abbot's churchyard (the church, designed by George Gilbert Scott, has the highest spire in London) and up Kensington Church Street brought us to The Churchill Arms. I'd seen this Victorian boozer, with its exterior festooned with flowers, many times from the window of a bus, but had never been inside. As you can imagine, the interior is filled with images and memorabilia associated with Winston Churchill, with bunting crisscrossing from wall to wall. It was so lovely to sit in comfy chairs in the wood-paneled pub, chatting away with a good mate. 

There was a tube strike all across London on Thursday, so I knew it would be a day of walking, but I wasn't fully prepared for what would transpire. Although the day started out just fine, it ended with what was without a doubt the biggest misadventure of my entire trip. Read on.

In the morning, I joined the Primrose Hill Community Association walking group for their weekly Thursday ramble, this time a social walk down to Regent's Park, across the top of the lakes and back up the Broad Walk. I've thoroughly enjoyed doing these walks and have found the other walkers to be great company, all with lots of things to talk about, recommendations to give me, and interesting things about their lives to share. They've been warm and welcoming, which I've much appreciated.

After lunch back at my gaff, I got the 168 bus down to the Euston Road as I was booked for a 2:30 pm guided walk about the Hidden River Fleet, the meeting point for which was King's Cross Station. Despite the tube strike, the bus wasn't crowded, I easily got a seat and we made good time. I was early enough to go into the station to use the loo and buy batteries at Boots. All good so far.

The walk itself took us into Islington, Clerkenwell, Hatton Garden and down Farringdon Road, ultimately reaching the outflow of the Fleet River (which has been contained in a pipe underground for over 100 years) at Blackfriars. 

It was 4:30 when the walk ended and I thought that I'd have plenty of time to catch a bus up to Marylebone to see the lighting of the Christmas lights in Marylebone Village at 6 pm. I had no idea how difficult this would be. I walked over to Somerset House where I waited, and waited, and waited for a number 139 bus. This is a busy bus stop and many buses arrived, took on passengers and headed onwards. Some of them looked really crowded, but others didn't. It took over a half hour for a 139 to arrive, but when it did, it just kept going past the stop. As did the next one. It got to the point when I thought I'd get whichever came first -- a 139 or 168. Finally it was a 139, rammed with people but I did manage a seat for most of the journey. Sadly though, by the time I reached Marylebone High Street, it was 6:30 and I'd missed seeing Jo Good throw the switch to light the lights. The street (pedestrianised for this event) looked festive and lovely, so I enjoyed walking past the various booths, shops, fairground rides, etc.

Tiring of it pretty quickly, however, I made my way back to a bus stop on Baker Street to catch a 13 or 113 to Swiss Cottage. It was 7 at this point, well past the time when commuters should have been leaving work and heading home, but every bus that went by was absolutely stuffed with people. Again, several of the 13 and 113 buses whizzed through the stop without letting people off or on. It was dark and cold and I was miserable. When a bus finally did stop and opened the side doors, people started pushing inside and I did, too. I was the last person on board, with the doors up against my back, and rode standing up all the way to Swiss Cottage. At least my place on the bus made getting off easy. By the time I opened the door to the flat it was 8:30 and I was so tired I ate out of the fridge and collapsed into bed. Next time I'm here during a tube strike, I'm going to stay within a one mile radius and not think about going anywhere involving public transport.

All week, I'd been asking various people for suggestions for a final day trip out of London. St Albans, which had been on my list of possibilities, kept coming up in their recommendations as a place that would be (1) easy to get to, (2) full of Roman and medieval history, and (3) an enjoyable place to walk around. So that became my destination for Friday. 

It is indeed easy to reach St Albans. I walked to the West Hampstead Thameslink station and bought a return ticket. Twenty-five minutes later, I was getting off the train and making the short walk into St Albans center, where they have an impressive clock tower and charming shops. The town is full of stores selling sporting apparel and outdoor gear. And pubs. I've never seen a place with so many pubs. 

I went to the St Albans Museum and Gallery, where I learned a bit about the history of the town. The museum is housed in what was the town hall, containing municipal offices, an assembly room and a court room. There are cells in the basement where prisoners would be held on the day of trial, being brought up a narrow staircase directly into the dock. You can go into the basement, see the cells (several are now the toilets) and climb the stairs to the dock yourself. When you do, you emerge into what is now the cafe, probably the most unusual eating place I've ever seen. 

I mooched around town for a while, stopping for lunch and taking a lot of photos. Next up was a look at the Cathedral, which has the longest nave in the UK (or is it in Europe?). The structure, with some bits going back to Norman times, is massive. It looks like a brick ocean liner on a hill. The inside is one of the best church interiors I've seen, with medieval wall paintings and a stunning tower ceiling. 

From there, I pushed on to the Verulamium Museum of Roman history and everyday life. The warm, sunny day made the long-ish walk a pleasure and it took me down streets full of quaint and cosy cottages. 

When I reached the museum, I bought a combined ticket for it and the Roman theatre nearby. Given the shortness of the days now, and that the theatre closes before the museum, the staff suggested I walk to the theatre first, then come back to see the museum itself. And so I did. 

The Roman theatre:

Two of the amazing Roman mosaic floors in the museum:

The train back to West Hampstead was nearly empty.

See what I said? This was indeed a variable week -- weather alternating between crap and beautiful, full of adventure and misadventure -- punctuated with time spent with friends. 

Stats: 

Monday, Nov 7

£13 top up EE phone

£20 top up Oyster card

£2.95 cake

£1.95 groceries

14,673 steps

6.02 miles

Tuesday, Nov 8

£2.65 sandwich

£1.45 ginger nuts

£3.35 Too Good to Go order from local caff

£5 Hampstead Theatre ticket

18,771 steps

7.93 miles

Wednesday, Nov 9

£8.25 Design Museum (half price with Art Pass)

£4.55 lunch

15,726 steps

6.44 miles

Thursday, Nov 10

£9 Fleet River walking tour

£2.50 batteries

£6 falaffel box 

£10 groceries

31,502 steps (yes, that's correct)

13.28 miles

Friday, Nov 11

£12.80 train ticket to St Albans

£2 apple streudle

£5.50 Roman museum and theatre

£10.13 groceries

23,499 steps

9.66 miles