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

Weekend the Fifth: Rain and more rain (and a little art)

This will be a short post as there's really not much to report. It alternately drizzled, gently rained and downright poured throughout the weekend. I was too knackered from my day trip to Cambridge on Friday to think of indoor places to go in town where I could get out of the rain and amuse myself, so instead I found a couple of destinations close to home. And between the short dashes out, I did laundry, tidied up and wrote my previous long blog post. The weekend wasn't a total washout, in other words. 

When I got up on Saturday morning, the predicted rain had not yet started. I walked up to the farmers' market on Parliament Hill, bought a few things that didn't weigh me down too much, and walked all the way back. Not knowing if that would be my only walk for the day, I reckoned it would be good to get in as many steps as possible while it was dry. 

In the afternoon, after several hours of rain, there seemed to be a break in the weather. I headed out to walk over to the Camden Art Centre near the Finchley Road. I meandered uphill and westward, along streets I hadn't walked before, until I reached Frognal, which I knew would take me down to Finchley. I walked past what had been the Langorf Hotel B&B. Molly and I stayed there when we visited Roger in 2004, the first academic year he worked in London. We had a self-catering unit with a small kitchen and a washer that leaked water all over the floor due to a ripped gasket. It wasn't fancy, but it was clean, safe and it met our needs. There is now no signage whatsoever to indicate that any of the three adjacent terrace houses are still a hotel. I peeked at one of the entries and saw six doorbells, so I reckon it's been turned into flats. 

This was my first visit to the Camden Art Centre and I was impressed with the facility (and it's free). They do all kinds of arty things under their roof -- exhibitions, classes, talks -- and the cafe looks wonderful (I looked but did not buy). I saw two exhibitions, each in very different spaces, both edgy, weird and by Americans. 

From what I gather, Forrest Bess was something of an outsider, though he was represented by the same gallery as Rothko. He lived in obscurity in Texas, working as a fisherman in the Gulf of Mexico. His paintings are abstract and symbolic, derived from his dreams and visions. The walls of the gallery are painted black, as this is how he had wanted his work to be displayed. Some of the small paintings I liked, others I didn't, and the symbolism of all of them was lost on me.

The second exhibition was of the collaborative work of Dani and Sheilah ReStack, a lesbian couple who draw inspiration from Forrest Bess for their drawings, paintings and videos. A couple of the paintings were interesting, but the use of animal pelts in them was a bit off-putting. I watched about 30 seconds of the video, so I can't really tell you anything about it other than I didn't understand it at all. 

The rain held off, so I took a few snaps along my way to and from the Centre to give you a feel of the area, though I had to stop when the showers started up again. Note the hills. Hampstead is perched on many, many hills and the houses cling to all of them. Some of the houses have a mews behind them where the horses were originally stabled. Now they are very expensive residences. Nearly every street in NW3 (Belsize Park and Hampstead) has fantastic tiled street signs, each letter or character on an individual tile, set either on low brick walls or up high on the side of buildings. 

It was still raining on Sunday morning, so I used the time to do laundry and a Pilates class. When it finally stopped (not for long, alas), I decided to trek 25 minutes up, up, up through Hampstead to Burgh House, another place (free) that I'd never been. Their cafe appears to be a popular Sunday brunch destination, judging from the number of people seated inside and out. But there was hardly anyone in the house itself -- a former residence that dates to the early 1700s and was the home to many families before being acquired and preserved by the local council in the 1970s. It's now used for all sorts of cultural activities, including concerts and exhibitions, and is rented out for private events. The gardens are supposed to be lovely, but it was just too wet for me to look at them this weekend. The docents tell you to feel free to enter any room with an open door. The current exhibition is of the work of Those Remarkable Carlines, a Hampstead family of three generations of artists, whose paintings and drawings capture local residents, visitors and scenes. The rest of the open rooms contained artwork by other residents of Hampstead, local landscapes and portraits across three centuries, as well as objects associated with the area. Apparently their collection contains thousands of such works and objects, so only a tiny fraction is on display at any one time. So, I must plan to revisit Burgh House in the future to see the gardens and whatever else they've brought out of storage and hung on the walls. It really is a charming place. 

I spent another hour puttering around in two different antiques and collectibles markets before the rain started chucking down again and I made a mad dash all the way back to my gaff. Before it got too bad, I managed two snaps:

Stats:

Saturday, Nov 5

£14 farmers' market purchases

18,393 steps

7.83 miles

Sunday, Nov 6

I spent no money!

12,593 steps

5.24 miles

Weekly Roundup #4

The days are shorter, colder and damper. I've now zipped the quilted liner into my raincoat and am wearing my somewhat itchy charity shop scarf. Soon I'll don my fleece gloves and hat. I'm slowing down. I'm still getting a lot of steps in and covering a fair amount of territory, but I'm no longer dashing from place to place in order to cram as much as possible into each day. Also, I'm trying to be better about doing a Pilates class (video replays from my home studio) a couple of mornings per week, and that means I'm out the door a bit later. And so, this week began at a more leisurely pace. Good thing, however, because I knocked it out of the park on Friday with a day trip to Cambridge (read on, mates).

I was again a bit at loose ends on Monday, as so many of the cultural institutions are closed that day or I've already been to the ones that are open or there's nothing on that particularly interests me at the other open venues. I decided to do another ramble from Stephen Millar's Hidden London Walks v. 4, this time Kentish Town. I've so appreciated that the publisher has provided downloadable maps of each of the walks, though you do need to read the books to get the intel about each of the spots. This particular walk takes in bits of Camden Town at the southern end, Kentish Town in the middle, and Gospel Oak at the north. I opted for the southern and middle bits. 

My ramble began by walking eastward along Prince of Wales Road until I reached the former St Pancras Public Baths building (now the Kentish Town Sports Center as well as residential flats), which is Grade II listed. At the time it was constructed, there were four baths (pools) inside -- men's and women's, first and second class. The exterior clearly marks the first and second class men's entrances. Try as I might, I could not locate the doors that women used to access the baths. 

Next, I took a little detour to see a plaque to Boris the Cat in Anglers Lane.

 

I then nipped down Kelly Street, with its charming pastel houses, some decked out for Halloween.

I headed south from there, in the direction of Camden Town along Kentish Town Road, stopping to look at what was the South Kentish Town tube station. Designed by Leslie Green in his signature oxblood red tiling, it was in use on what later became the Northern Line of the tube from 1907 to 1924. It's now a pawn broker. 

Across the road is a former public toilet, now Creation Studios. 

Reversing direction and continuing northward along Kentish Town Road, I came to the former storefront of Blustons ladieswear shop. I'd seen it from the number 134 bus three years ago and had wanted to get a better look. The family business operated for 84 years at this location before closing in 2015. (There was a brief attempt to reopen it under new management, but that only lasted two years.) Since 2018, the shop with its Grade II listed facade has been the home of a charity shop. The display windows are now full of vintage items. Unfortunately, the shop was closed for lunch when I came by, but I'll try to go back another day when they are open. Readers, do click on the three links to see some fantastic photos of the shop interior and exterior. 

I continued north as far as Kentish Town national rail station before bailing on the walk route, which would have taken me to Gospel Oak, and just ambled around instead. I bought a sandwich and went in search of some green space for a sit-down. This was not an easy quest. Kentish Town was booming in the 19th century as a residential area for working-class people -- primarily, I think, the families of Irish men who had come to London to work on the nearby canal and railroad -- and there aren't any squares, parks or even churchyards. I ended up doubling back to Talacre Gardens near Prince of Wales Road where I found a bench. After my late lunch, I zig-zagged my way back to Haverstock Hill and reached home just as the rain was starting. Along the way, I passed some interesting-looking businesses including Leverton & Sons funeral director that had been, according to its signage, owned and managed by the same family for eight generations and the Gipsy Queen, which looks like a great boozer.

In the evening, I hopped the tube to High Street Kensington to attend yet another free book launch at the Kensington and Chelsea Library. The book was Death Lines: Walking London's Horror History. The American author, Lauren Barnett, has a long-standing fascination with both horror films and London, living here now (I gather she married a Brit). She had looked for guided (or self-guided) walks featuring horror film locations and, having found none, wrote the book. I've never been that keen on horror films, but her book sounds so fun that I might just put a few in my Netflix queue for winter viewing. 

Tuesday started with a Pilates class and a bus ride down to Bloomsbury again. I didn't need to be anywhere until 2 pm, so I used the time to pop into some places I'd missed on my previous Bloomsbury junkets. I saw two gallery shows -- Stars at the Brunswick Art Gallery (mostly photos and prints of pop/rock stars) and masks by Romuald Hazoumè at the October Gallery. I wasn't so keen on the former, but enjoyed the latter and took a lot of rubbish snaps for a mate who loves masks. Here are two, but do click the gallery link above for much better photos. 

I then went back to the Wellcome Collection to see their new exhibition, In Plain Sight, which is all about vision and perception. It turned out to be a bigger exhibition than I'd expected, so I saw only about 3/4 of it but found it very interesting. Maybe that's because I've had rubbish vision almost my entire life and have had cataract surgery in both eyes. I grabbed a sandwich from the caff, shoved it down my gob and headed on.

I was due to meet my new friend Lesley at 2 pm in front of King's Cross Station. I seem to never learn how long it takes to get from one place to another along the Euston Road, so I was hustling all the way but made it only a few minutes late. Lesley is a walking tour guide who is currently doing the Camden guiding course. She needed to explore a few locations around King's X and Somers Town. I also wanted to check out a few places, and was happy to have good company. And Lesley was wanting to time some bits for one of her test walks and get feedback. After our ramble, we stopped for tea in the caff at the British Library. I'm really happy to have made a new acquaintance in London and look forward to staying in touch.

Wednesday took me to the National Gallery for the Winslow Homer exhibition and then to mooch around Lincoln's Inn and the Sir John Soane Museum. 

I LOVED the Homer exhibition. I'd originally thought it would be a bunch of seascapes that I'd already seen (the Clark Art Institute near home has a ton of his paintings), but was I ever wrong. I learned so much about him -- his work doing illustrations for Harper's Weekly during the Civil War, paintings in the south of African Americans during Reconstruction, and his lovely watercolours painted in Florida and the Caribbean. 

After gobbling down my packed lunch, along with a pastel de nata from Santa Nata in New Row (probably the best I've had -- warm, gooey custard and lovely flakey crust) while sat on a bench in the churchyard of St Paul's Covent Garden, I walked eastward across Covent Garden to Holborn. 

This was the first time I'd found myself near Lincoln's Inn when it wasn't the weekend (when the gates are closed to the public) so I took advantage and had a butcher's at the buildings, including the chapel and undercroft. 

I hadn't been inside Sir John Soane's house since 2004. It's as bonkers as I remember, with artifacts, sculpture, architectural bits, paintings, etc. filling every nook and cranny. The house is just as it was when he lived there, so the objects have no labels or text to explain them. I could have used the Bloomberg Connects app to access more info about each room and its contents, but the app drives me nuts so I just wandered around. There's so much stuff to look at that you can't properly take any of it in, but as it's a free venue and utterly unique it really is a must-see. Maybe once is enough. 

Thursday was another grey, gloomy, damp day. I went to the City for a few hours and took in the London Mithraeum (a temple that dates to Roman times, under the Bloomberg building in Walbrook). Tickets are free but you must prebook as it's a popular venue and they don't allow many people in at a time. It's one of those immersive experiences that I sometimes balk at, but this is very, very well done. I learned more in a half hour there than I did in two hours touring the crowded Roman site in Bath. 

I dodged the raindrops and walked west along Upper Thames Street to look at the Queenhithe mosaic mural, which shows the history of the Queen's Wharf in tiled panels. It's lovely, but in need of a good cleaning.

Next, I popped into the Bank of England Museum (also free) to see their exhibit on the Bank's connection to the slave trade. An interesting and informative installation, but far too many panels with a lot of text. I stumbled upon a room near the toilets that dealt with modern currency and included a short film about the polymer notes. At last I understood what this plastic money is all about and how they make it. (See my previous post about trekking up to Golders Green to exchange my now-worthless 20 pound paper notes). 

The Guildhall Art Gallery was my final stop in the City to see the exhibition Inspired. They've pulled a number of paintings and sculptures from their vast collection (owned by the City of London) and grouped them according to the artists' inspiration for the work -- poetry, music, literature and theatre. A lot of what the gallery has in it's permanent collection is Victorian allegorical paintings, so much of the exhibition featured these. Not my usual cup of tea, but there were also some more modern works that I liked. I also popped into their new (to me) undercroft gallery where they rotate a small number of works from the collection that depict London itself. I thought this was the best bit. 

In the evening, I met my friend Simon at King's X for a quick dinner and then over to King's Place to see Jerron "Blind Boy" Paxton, an African American blues, roots, ragtime, jazz performer. I love this music from the early 1900s and listen to it a lot on the radio but I'd never heard of Paxton. Here's his bio. An incredibly versatile and accomplished musician, he played guitar, fiddle, banjo, harmonica and piano during this performance. One his banjos, which has a lovely tone to it, was made in 1848 and belonged to his great-grandfather. In addition to the fantastic music, he entertained us with stories of his family, jokes and off-colour puns. He's in his early 30s, so here's hoping he has a long and celebrated career ahead of him. I'll be on the lookout for him passing through western Massachusetts. 

And that brings me to Friday, my day out of London to go to Cambridge. Greater Anglia was offering special 10 and 15 quid fares to select destinations if booked by midnight on 30 October. I've never been to Cambridge, and as it was on the list for a tenner, I booked for a day that looked like the weather would cooperate (it did) and the railway workers wouldn't strike (they didn't). Roger had sent me a link to the Defaced exhibition at the Fitzwilliam Museum (free with timed entry) about money, conflict and protest, so I booked for that as well. Other than that, I had no specific plan for the day other than rambling around, peering into the colleges (you can't actually enter them during term time), gawping at the architecture, seeing the punts on the River Cam, and possibly making it to Murray Edwards College to see their collection of works by women artists, allegedly the largest such collection in Europe. To recap: the Defaced exhibition was great, mooching around the colleges and lanes was lovely, and I'm SO glad I schlepped all the way up to Murray Edwards College (one of two women's colleges at Cambridge). Their art collection is displayed along various corridors of a multi-purpose brutalist building, interesting in it's own right. After all the medieval halls and gothic spires -- which I can relate to about as much as I can to Hogwarts -- it felt so nice to be where art occupies a space bustling with women, students and faculty going to and fro, rooms for study and dining, various offices and student services, and all that I know and love about a women's college. 

Here are some photos of the Fitzwilliam, the town streets and the university:

The Corpus Clock outside Corpus Christi College (sadly, I didn't see it strike the hour):

Murray Edwards College New Hall:

I was thrilled that the first art work I saw at Murray Edwards was by Faith Ringgold:

And so that's a wrap on this past week. It's been an odd week, a bit of a transition. I'm no longer feeling compelled to go, go, go, see, see, see. As a result, I have less of a sense of accomplishment at the end of each week. But on the other hand, I've been liberated from the tourist schedule and am feeling more and more like a Londoner. I've been very disconnected from what's going on with the mid-term elections at home, only hearing bits of news on the World Service. I'll need to pay more attention come Tuesday. To say I'm worried puts it mildly. 

One more full week and then a few days more before I head back home with very mixed emotions.

Stats: 

Monday, Oct 31

£3.25 sandwich from Pret

£4.79 groceries

22,387 steps

9.27 miles

Tuesday, Nov 1

99p Boots (throat lozenges)

£4.25 sandwich

£10 hummus and wine

21,293 steps

8.85 miles

Wednesday, Nov 2

£6 Homer exhibition (half price with Art Pass)

£2.10 pastel de nata

£3 groceries

15,945 steps

6.56 miles

Thursday, Nov 3

£3 Guildhall Art Gallery (half price with Art Pass)

£2.15 groceries

£4.50 dinner at Leon 

£24.75 performance at King's Place 

20,278 steps

8.32 miles

Friday, Nov 4

£10 train ticket to Cambridge

£1.80 pastel de nata

£13 groceries and wine

27,484 steps

11.47 miles