Five Hours of Portraits
Today dawned bright and beautiful and full of hope. The Archives are closed on Sundays and Mondays, so Jor and I decided to hit up central London and give some of these museums a run for their free entry. First stop was the National Portrait Gallery. We spent some time looking for this on the map in order to distinguish it from the National Gallery – only to find that the two are conjoined.
The day was so gorgeous that a nice little walking tour to the Gallery was in order, and so we alighted (yes, this word is used a lot and is now part of my vocabulary. You can make fun later) at Westminster stop and emerged into a spectacular scene: the gold turreted face of Big Ben greeted us at the Tube exit, chiming the quarter hour. I looked up and walked straight into a closed crit race for the Tour of Britain, which was going on all day and which we would continually have to cross. After a brief stop and a chat with some fine English racing fans, Joren and I took a walk over the Westminster Bridge to admire the full scope of Westminster and the Thames.
A left turn along the quay in front of the London Film Museum put us right smack in the middle of a Japanese food expo, attended by, it seemed, every Japanese tourist in London. I squeezed my way through the crowds, pausing every now and then to take in the sights and smells, and then quickly urging myself forward, the lengthy lines and pushy crowds convincingly propelling me towards the end that was nowhere in sight.
Finally we exited, passed the London Eye, and then strolled along a less crowded part of the quay, this section which seemed to be the domain of street entertainers. I saw a lizard man on a lizard bike, a mime, an ugly Buster Keaton, someone playing Caribbean drums, a svelte European setting up for artistry, and many others. I’m not sure how I feel about street entertainers, but for some reason, these ones made me a bit sad. I wonder if they are all failed actors and circus performers.
Anyway. Back to South London via the Embankment pedestrian bridge and then a return up the south quay and alongside the Whitehall Gardens. (Sidenote: Yesterday I kept coming across “Whitehall” in my documents, and I got very excited that I knew it meant a Ministry building. Lots of good can come from a stroll in the park.) Speaking of parks, along our stroll through Central London, destination Nat’l Portrait Gallery, Jor and I took a path through Green Park alongside HM Treasury building and a Cavalry Museum. We did not stop at either of those places, but I hope maybe to come back. The Park was very nice, although I was horrified at the tame squirrels which would beg for food on the sidewalk. One even crawled up the pant leg of a man offering it some bread. Another ate a peanut out of the fingers of a girl crouched on the walk. Shudder.
Once out of the park, we walked down The Mall to Trafalgar Square and to the National Galleries. I entered the Gallery expecting to be impressed by the grandeur of the building, but I was not expecting how beautiful it was. Notwithstanding the actual Collection (over 2,300 paintings) each room and the great halls were lavish celebrations to an older aristocratic order. Papered walls in purple, red, green and gold, the Portrait Collection introduced me to Princes and priests, Ladies and Mistresses and overly adorned children. After a short break for a late lunch, we returned to the Gallery to view the two Leonardos and the various Michaelangelos they had displayed. It was an exhausting, overwhelming and completely stunning tour of beauty.
We left the Gallery as it was closing for the evening. Luckily, we had just missed the brief shower that wetted down the London streets and cleared out the crowds from Trafalgar Square. Since it was empty, Joren took a few photos of the iconic Lions at Trafalgar and the statue of Lord Nelson atop his perch. I climbed up on a Lion, but experienced a sudden rushing fear of falling and decided not to climb out onto his paws. Joren did.
The sun lowered, and Jor and I took a final meandering walk towards our Tube stop. We passed by the Sherlock Holmes pub (sadly, closed for renovations) and under the Craven Street Tunnel to find Benjamin Franklin’s house. Then, we turned around to go back again under the Craven Street Tunnel since we had missed Benjamin Franklin’s House. We found it and I had a picture made. Onward to the Tube (I didn’t stop as we passed a Herman Melville house sign) and finally we were home again in Kew.
The night had turned chilly, so the walk to Rara the Nepalese/Indian restaurant was hurried and without fanfare. After a perfectly yum dinner (perhaps a tad too spicy on the lamb curry) I fell asleep easily and happily. London is a great city, and I’m amazed it took me this long to come back.
Tomorrow we hit up the Museums again, natural history and science. Let's hope the weather holds.
See you tomorrow!
The day was so gorgeous that a nice little walking tour to the Gallery was in order, and so we alighted (yes, this word is used a lot and is now part of my vocabulary. You can make fun later) at Westminster stop and emerged into a spectacular scene: the gold turreted face of Big Ben greeted us at the Tube exit, chiming the quarter hour. I looked up and walked straight into a closed crit race for the Tour of Britain, which was going on all day and which we would continually have to cross. After a brief stop and a chat with some fine English racing fans, Joren and I took a walk over the Westminster Bridge to admire the full scope of Westminster and the Thames.
Finally we exited, passed the London Eye, and then strolled along a less crowded part of the quay, this section which seemed to be the domain of street entertainers. I saw a lizard man on a lizard bike, a mime, an ugly Buster Keaton, someone playing Caribbean drums, a svelte European setting up for artistry, and many others. I’m not sure how I feel about street entertainers, but for some reason, these ones made me a bit sad. I wonder if they are all failed actors and circus performers.
Once out of the park, we walked down The Mall to Trafalgar Square and to the National Galleries. I entered the Gallery expecting to be impressed by the grandeur of the building, but I was not expecting how beautiful it was. Notwithstanding the actual Collection (over 2,300 paintings) each room and the great halls were lavish celebrations to an older aristocratic order. Papered walls in purple, red, green and gold, the Portrait Collection introduced me to Princes and priests, Ladies and Mistresses and overly adorned children. After a short break for a late lunch, we returned to the Gallery to view the two Leonardos and the various Michaelangelos they had displayed. It was an exhausting, overwhelming and completely stunning tour of beauty.
We left the Gallery as it was closing for the evening. Luckily, we had just missed the brief shower that wetted down the London streets and cleared out the crowds from Trafalgar Square. Since it was empty, Joren took a few photos of the iconic Lions at Trafalgar and the statue of Lord Nelson atop his perch. I climbed up on a Lion, but experienced a sudden rushing fear of falling and decided not to climb out onto his paws. Joren did.
The sun lowered, and Jor and I took a final meandering walk towards our Tube stop. We passed by the Sherlock Holmes pub (sadly, closed for renovations) and under the Craven Street Tunnel to find Benjamin Franklin’s house. Then, we turned around to go back again under the Craven Street Tunnel since we had missed Benjamin Franklin’s House. We found it and I had a picture made. Onward to the Tube (I didn’t stop as we passed a Herman Melville house sign) and finally we were home again in Kew. 
The night had turned chilly, so the walk to Rara the Nepalese/Indian restaurant was hurried and without fanfare. After a perfectly yum dinner (perhaps a tad too spicy on the lamb curry) I fell asleep easily and happily. London is a great city, and I’m amazed it took me this long to come back. Tomorrow we hit up the Museums again, natural history and science. Let's hope the weather holds.
See you tomorrow!
Comments
Post a Comment