Man walking five dogs!

April 10, National Gallery

Walking shoes on I set off for the National Gallery and as usual Trafalgar Square was alive with activity. People were enjoying sitting on the seats watching the buskers: two were statues, one silver the other gold. The silver one was happy to stop and be photographed with bystanders, striking poses with his sword, generally the sword across a hapless victim's neck.
<><> <><> <><>

Singer Dolores Divine, dressed up in black stilettos and flamboyant red polka dot dress, entertained the crowd. She finished her routine and was approached by some little girls who had been enjoying the performance. They were delighted to be chatting with her, and in turn, Dolores enjoyed their attention.

In the gallery there was much to see, favourites being by Rubens, Van Gogh and Monet. Again there were people everywhere, speaking many language, couples, families, all enjoying the work. Guides speaking different language ushered through huge groups, pointing out pertinent information about particular paintings...Not only is there an impressive array of paintings the gallery itself is splendid, with grand ceilings ornately finished in gold.

April 12, The Tate Modern

Following a rest day it was time for my training regime again, this time the usual walk into town, with a rest at Temple Garden, overlooking the Thames, which, from that angle, is quite reminiscent of the Yarra! Crossing the road onto the path running next to the Thames I was confronted by a veritable stream of athletes, jogging furiously along. It started to drizzle but this did not deter them, as they soldiered on regardless. The walk bridge took us over the Thames to the Tate, not before stopping to admire the vista, including the Tower Bridge.

In the courtyard was an immense sculpture by Damien Hirsh, an anatomical sculpture with a mechanical eyepiece. This proved to be a favourite spot for photos, particularly of young children.

Inside there was lots to see, though I confess that the most modern art didn't appeal: the painted blob on the wall, the red chiffon ceiling with staircase, the mirror, the long white cloth draped around a glass vase, the white circles of pebbles carefully placed...interesting but lax in execution, short on skill, passion and creativity...or so it seemed to me...The more permanent exhibition space was more to my liking: the vivid work of Kandinsky, and Monet's gentle Water lilies.

I was also taken by a neon installation which had bands of neon, all projecting the same sentence which fell like a waterfall. I sat there for ages, expecting there to be a loop, eventually coming back to the same sentence, but it seemed

to have an endless stream of sentences.

On exiting the Tate the weather too had changed, the sun streaming. I took myself over to St Paul's Cathedral,

then navigated back, finding secret manicured gardens in the most unusual places...and finally finding myself at the vast Smithfield Market, now deserted. My legs wearily dragged themselves back to my good friend, the number 29 bus, a happy sight.

The evening was spent trawling the Internet, wondering where to go in England and how best to get there. A hire car seemed a good option, and somehow I chanced upon a site that had a campervan on offer from London to Amsterdam for 7 days. The deal: they would provide the car so long as we'd get it to the destination by the due date and time and, in the meantime, we could enjoy the English countryside and see some parts of France, as well as Amsterdam, which we'd already been intending to do.

April 13, Planning and Bookings

In the morning I emailed the company about the van. They replied promptly- it was still a possibility and a number of emails later we were committed to the new adventure. We would pay £1 plus insurance, petrol, ferry expenses and our flights back...So all this was organised.

April 14, Oxford St

No matter how much I tried I could not convince myself to look at another painting, nor museum exhibit, so I headed into town, to see the shops, hoping to see the more well known shops like Marks and Spencer's, Fortnum and Mason and Harrods.

I wandered around the streets along with the throng. Top Shop was an interesting experience, loud music and full of excited young people, enjoying all it had to offer. Quickly I tired of this pursuit, and eagerly sought the number 19, taking a quick detour to Carnaby St, which didn't hold much interest, a street like most others, now living on its past reputation.

April 15, The Thames Ferry and Greenwich

Contrary to my usual routine (walking into town) I took the Tube into town with George, who readily negotiated all the lines, finally ending up at Embankment station. It's so far underground that my ears blocked, so it was good to get back to street level. We emerged into the sunlight and found ourselves in a very pretty park, Victoria Embankment.

Opposite the road is Cleopatra's needle, a massive obelisk donated by the Viceroy of Egypt to Britain, made of red granite and inscribed with hieroglyphs, watched over by two sphinx-like statues.

From here we caught the ferry down the Thames, a delightful trip, with a feast to look at all around.

It was also freezing, felt like there was an Arctic wind.

 

We alighted at Greenwich, walked past the Cutty Sark and wandered around a market then followed this with a huge bowl of Vietnamese duck and noodle soup. Delicious!

Once thawed out, we headed around Greenwich where there are many museums and historic buildings, and a vast park with a very steep hill, rewarding us with a panoramic view.

 Thoroughly frozen we found the Russell Square bus which seemed to take a lifetime to get us to the museum and our 19 bus.

It was a joy to walk into the warmth of the apartment, to shelter from the blizzard.