Arrived ... and knackered

Despite my major pre-travel anxiety, the journey went well and I'm here in London. I was a bit nervous because I was flying a different airlines (Delta instead of Virgin Atlantic), from a different terminal at Logan (A instead of E), arriving at a different terminal at Heathrow (4 instead of 3), taking the Heathrow Connect into town instead of the tube, and going to Spooner's new flat in Maida Hill, a part of town I'd only seen briefly from the #31 bus a couple years ago. Some things were better about this scheme (less crowded plane, so I got to spread out over two seats; much shorter line at immigration; far speedier train) and some were worse (inferior in-flight entertainment, jarring bus ride from Paddington to Maida Hill). But I had no trouble finding the flat, no difficulty with the front door lock, and was greeted inside by a trail of post-it notes pointing me to the toilet, computer, power shower switch, and my room -- a bit Alice in Wonderland or Hansel and Gretel.

And despite getting about an hour of sleep on the plane and another hour when I got to Spooner's flat, I boldly ventured forth today and covered a respectable amount of new territory (and a bit of old pavement as well). I left the flat just a few minutes past noon, and headed down the Harrow Road to the Ha'penny Steps, crossed the footbridge, and walked down the towpath past (and a bit through) Meanwhile Gardens. Though I'd never been here before, these spots looked quite familiar -- the blue railings on the bridge, the paths through the gardens, the coots and geese in the canal, the reflections of the buildings in the water -- because I'd seen them so many times in my friend Helen's photostream. London seems empty with her no longer in it. I know I'll think of her often and miss her enormously during this visit.

Continuing on down the towpath, I walked through Little Venice, on the pavement through Lisson Grove (no access to the towpath through some sections here), along the edge of Regent's Park, and up to Camden Town. Weather was kind of variable -- some grey skies and warm, then blue skies and blustery, chilly wind. I took a lot of photos, but haven't reviewed them yet. I'll try to add one or two to this post tomorrow or the next day.

I started out with every intention of walking up Kentish Town Road to Jeffrey's Street to see the new-ish Banksy piece (particularly as his pieces along the canal have been buffed out), but was just too tired by the time I reached Camden Town. So, I decided to do something tried and true. I hopped on the #168 bus, rode down to Euston Station, and went into the Wellcome Collection for a few minutes to see the brand new exhibition -- Miracles and Charms, which is all about Mexican votive paintings, milagros and other amulets of faith and healing. I only had about 20 minutes to spend there, but really liked the exhibition and may try to go back later next week.

Spooner has gone out for the evening to a play. I just took a hot bath and am now making my dinner. I'm going to try to stay awake until about 9 pm, and am hoping to get a good night's sleep and wake up with energy and good spirits for tomorrow's adventures.

Expenses:
$2.40 Mass Pike toll
$22 bus ticket (return) from MassPort lot to Logan
$2.29 bottle of water at the airport
£8.50 Heathrow Connect (single) to Paddington
£20 to top up my Oyster card
£2 for a piece of quiche at Camden Lock Market

21,858 steps
8.62 miles

My Year in Dullsville

Yes, we had an earthquake, but I didn't feel it. We also had a hurricane, but it brought me only a lot of rain and some small branches down in my back yard. The winter was absolutely dismal, and I'm not going to mention it again ... ever.

One of the highpoints of the year was joining up with Riot Prrl, a knitters' league for positive mischief. I've always wanted to be a yarn bomber/yarn stormer/urban knitter, and I added to Riot Prrl's tree project in Northampton, done for International Yarn Bomb Day (June 11). Since then, I've made a few pieces to adorn some of the street furniture around town. Here's a photo that ScribeGirl took of me working on one of my pieces:



I'm hoping to do a lot more of this in the coming year. It sure beats my previous feminist activist endeavor, which shall go unnamed, and which was cause of much frustration. I'm also working on some pieces to take with me to London in October. My plan is to place them in Meanwhile Gardens, in memory of my dear friend Helen, who I think would have enjoyed seeing them. She often visited that stretch of the Grand Union Canal to photograph the birds, buildings and reflections. I miss her company, her humour, and her inspiration as an activist, a feminist, and a photographer.

Planning for my upcoming trip to London is well under way. I'm hoping to make some new discoveries and to revisit some favorite haunts. I'll be staying in Maida Hill rather than Belsize Park, as Spooner has moved flats. I'm looking forward to walking the towpath along the canal to Camden Town, and to getting to know W9/W10. I promise to post regularly while I'm there.

Art on walls, in the park and on the street

My last day in London was just as full of adventures as the first. I'm now rushing around to pack and leave for Heathrow, so this post will be a short one. Here's a recap of what Spooner and I did on Saturday:

• Saw Shadow Catchers at the V&A. Really fascinating stuff -- beautiful, mysterious and haunting photographs made without the use of cameras.
• Met up with Malcolm in the Madejski Garden, walked up Exhibition Road and into Kensington Gardens to see the Serpentine Pavilion and the four reflective sculptures by Anish Kapoor that are sited on the lawns and in the water.
• Took the tube to Liverpool Street, walked up to Great Eastern Street, and saw the Moniker International Art Fair at Village Underground. My favorite piece in the show is by a streetartist named Boxi, who I'd never seen before. Spooner heard from one of the gallery staff that Boxi was working on something out on the street, and, as luck would have it, we walked right past it on our way to Old Street. Boxi was putting the final touches on the work (photo above), which is quite stunning.
  

So, this brings me to the end of my 2010 trip to London and Liverpool. It's been utterly fab, filled as always with new adventures and wonderful mates with whom to explore the city streets, art and history.

It's been good to have my netbook with me, as it's made my blogging easier and I've had access to all my stuff in Google docs, etc. Each night, I've dumped the day's photos from my memory card onto the netbook to take a look at them. I've realized that this computer doesn't have good resolution for editing photos, however. They seem a bit blurry and pixely to me, so I'll wait to get home and put them on my desktop computer before fine tuning them. I think there's a metaphor in there somewhere. Right now, my whole trip is a bit of a blur, with images and recollections running around in my head in a disjointed way. When I get home, I think that things will come into better focus as I really examine the photos from each day and the memories of my friends and my adventures.

Distance: 16,341 steps (6.7 miles)

Expenses:

• £5 for Shadow Catchers exhibition at the V&A
• £3 for chicken and veg pasty at Liverpool Street Station
• £1.23 for Hobnobs to take home
• £15 to Spooner for food and booze
  

A Tale of Two Tates

It was another day of great mates, interesting art and no rain (although no sun, either). And it was another day in which I neither got lost nor lost any of my possessions.

I visited both Tates with Helen and Judy -- first the Tate Britain in Pimlico, followed by a boat ride to the Tate Modern on the Southbank. The major exhibition at Tate Britain now -- other than the Turner Prize, which I didn't see --is the photography of Eadweard Muybridge. I always thought Muybridge was American, but he was born and buried in England, which qualifies him for an exhibition at the Tate Britain. And I'd always associated him only with stop motion photos of horses trotting and athletes running, but he also did some extremely impressive landscapes and cityscapes as well. The latter were very large format photos, shot on glass plates using a huge wooden camera that he lugged around to capture vistas in Yosemite and panoramas of San Francisco in the 1870s. No sacrifice was too much for his art -- he even chopped down trees if they were blocking the perfect view. The photos are incredibly detailed and beautifully composed, regardless of the era but more remarkably so when you consider the time and the technology.

The next exhibition we saw transported us to an entirely different reality. Or unreality. Coral Reef is a series of small rooms, connected by dirty, narrow corridors, each of which contains the objects of real or imagined scenarios. One room was something like a mini-cab dispatch office, one like an evangelist's reception room, one that reminded me of my car mechanic's shop, which still has the grease and grime of 1975. The rooms were alternately perplexing, disturbing and amusing. Helen, Judy and I chuckled our way through the whole labyrinth.

The boat took us to the Tate Modern in Southwark, where we had planned to see -- and touch -- the new installation in the Turbine Hall. The installation, which opened just three days ago, is by Ai Weiwei, who has filled the hall with 100 million ceramic sunflower seeds. Apparently, it's been wildly popular, with scores of people walking through the seeds, playings in them, touching them, moving them about and -- here's the significant part -- stirring up clouds of ceramic dust. The clouds have been so intense that Health and Safety has closed down access to the exhibition. When we got there, we met up with Ray, another of our Flickr mates, and were only able to view the installation from the balcony above or from behind a rope on the main floor of the Turbine Hall. A member of staff was beside the rope, explaining that they are investigating different means of controlling the dust and hope to have the problem solved soon. Other Turbine Hall exhibitions have also run into H&S difficulties, so they should be used to it at this point. I guess we have to put it down to witnessing a piece of Tate Modern history.

Back in Belsize Park, Spooner and I went down to his local, The George Washington, for birthday drinks with one of his mates. It's now raining -- the first real rain of my visit, which is truly remarkable ... and most fortunate.

Distance: 9,959 steps (4.08 miles)
Expenses:

• £1.75 for tea at the Tate Britain
• £11 for lunch at Pizza Express
• £3.75 for Tate-to-Tate boat
  

More art, foundlings and a medicine man

Today's ramble lacked a coherent theme or geography, other than being more or less along the Number 24 bus line. I'm happy to report that, for several days now, I've returned in the evening with all of the items that were in my possession when I walked out the door. Whew!

The day started and ended in the noise and traffic of the Euston Road. I took the tube to King's X/St Pancras and walked down to the Gagosian Gallery, which I'd never been to before. As I approached it, I saw one black cab after another as people arrived or left the gallery. Inside, there were hordes of people -- trendy, arty types -- milling around with champagne flutes or cups of tea. The exhibition was incomprehensible -- something to do with form and light. The trendies were queuing up to put on funny booties, climb some steps and enter a box of colored light. I left in a hurry.

I then meandered down Gray's Inn Road and made my way to the Foundling Museum, getting there just as mist was turning to rain. There, I learned about how Thomas Coram established the first institution in Britain to care for abandoned children in the mid 18th century. In addition to exhibitions about the history of the Foundling Hospital, and about Hogarth and Handel's philanthropy on behalf of the institution, there was a special exhibition called "Threads of Feeling" that had to do with bits of cloth, ribbon or trinkets that the moms had tucked in with their babies when they left them for admission to the institution. The staff always attached the bits to the child's admission form, thus building the country's largest collection of textile fragments from the 1700s and 1800s.

Fortified by another lunch of tuna and sweet corn sandwich and bevvie, eaten in Tavistock Square, I grabbed the #24 bus to Trafalgar Square and went to the National Portrait Gallery to see the 19th century photographs of Camille Silvy. Afterwards, I checked out some of the recent portraits, including photos by Mary McCartney (Linda McCartney's daughter, and a talented photographer just like her mum).

Next stop was St Martin-in-the-Fields, across the street from the NPG. I hadn't been in the crypt since the major renovations that were completed a year ago. They've currently got small models of the six sculptures that are on the short list for the next installation on the Fourth Plinth. There's a golden boy on a rocking horse, a bright blue chicken, an ATM/pipe organ combo that is supposed to make sounds, a cake made of bricks, a war hero guy on horseback who is all decked out in beads and bobbles, and a mountainous island that's actually Britain upside down. I was thinking about going into the crypt cafe for tea and a little snack, but it was really crowded and noisy so I beat a hasty retreat upstairs to the church, where I listened for a while to a choir rehearsal. They weren't doing a classical or religious piece or anything that I recognized, but I worked out that it was something to do with the first scene of Macbeth. It was hard to understand, but I distinctly heard "weird sisters" and "boiling, boiling" and "cauldron."

Back into the grey mist, I took a quick look at the current Fourth Plinth sculpture (photo above) before jumping on the #24 going north, getting off at the Euston Road, and walking down to the Wellcome Collection where I got to have my tea and a lovely apple flapjack pastry. I looked at most of the "Medicine Man" exhibition of Mr Wellcome's collected stuff from around the world, mostly medical or dealing with birth and death. The Collection is currently asking people to donate an object, no bigger than their head, to expand the collection of unique and/or mundane objects. That stuff will be shown starting next week in an exhibition called "Things" that I think could be quite amusing. I'm encouraging Spooner to donate one of his kitschy objects.

Distance: 14,443 steps (5.92 miles)

Expenses:

• £4.28 tuna & sweet corn sandwich, apple and bevvie
• £5 for Silvy exhibition at NPG
• £3.50 tea and pastry at Wellcome Collection
• £10 to top up Oyster card