The Big City 2

Day 3: old friends and food

In the morning, we headed off to the National Portrait Gallery, somewhere we hadn't been for a while. We arrived in Trafalgar Square which was filled with the usual sea of tourists but also, a lot of equipment and barriers and portakabins. You would have been sorely out of luck if you had travelled from the other side of the world to get a photo of you standing next to one of the lions at the base of the column as they were completely swallowed up and cordoned off in the 'backstage' area that had been created behind a temporary stage erected, seemingly, for Chinese New Year celebrations. We have grown quite used to travelling abroad only to find a monument or building shrouded in scaffold. For once, I didn't care as I have every shot of the Square I need.

As we made our way across the square towards the National Gallery, I could hear there was a street performer warming up the crowd with some patter. At that very moment, we emerged right at the front of the crowd gathered to watch his performance. Now, my hair is a bit long at the moment and it had been a bit blown around. but was there really a need for him to remark "Wow! Worzel Gummage is back from the dead!"? Well, it got him a laugh or two and, truthfully, I also had a smile on my face. British self-deprecation: we just take it on the chin.

The NPG is great: the paintings are good, to be sure, but the really brilliant bit is the quality of the history lesson you get as you go round. The info tiles beside each painting not only provides details of the painter but also some context for us to better understand what we are seeing in the paintings beyond representations of people. Elaine was especially happy with that element. Afterwards, we had a quick look round Covent Garden, somewhere that we had often gone when we first got together in London. The shops that were once supplied craft-y, quirky and artisan/handmade goods are now all occupied by purveyors of luxury goods from well-known brands. The bric-a-brac market that was filled with tat (£5 for an empty Avon fragrance bottle in the shape of a train anyone?) as well as proper antiques has been replaced by more organised stalls, the majority of which sell souvenirs decorated with the word 'London' and pictures of double decker buses, Nelson's Column and Buckingham Palace. What felt co-operative is now completely corporate.

That evening, we had planned to meet up with friends Howard and Lesley-Ann at the George in Borough before going on for something to eat. On reflection, I had realised that the George, although a unique and interesting pub (one-time coaching inn, still has a gallery facing onto the courtyard, contains a clock with a payment slot from times when apprentices from local firms would be sent to the pub to find out the time and have to pay for the privilege, plus its general air of authentic age as opposed to "made-to-look-olde-worlde'), is actually a little out of the way and not greatly convenient in terms of tube stations. So I hit on a great idea: we'll meet at Cask, the bar we had visited last night! After all, it was important that I try a few more of their ales for research purposes...

When Howie and Les came into the bar, it was as if it had only been weeks since we'd seen them rather than the actual three and a half years. Yes, we had lots of stories to swap, but there was no awkwardness around having to re-establish our friendship: it was just natural and made Elaine and I very happy to be with them again. We went on to a rather nice Mediterranean restaurant called 'AboutThyme' where the food and wine was fabulous. After such a good evening, it was sad to wave goodbye to them at Victoria Station. We all vowed that it will not be three years to our next meet-up. Anyway, Howie has intrigued me by saying that Dark Star Brewing Co has taken on a pub near Cuckfield where they live, so I shall need to sample some of that!

Day 4: faulty sat-nav (user) part 2 and retail therapy

We decided that, having parted with no money in Covent Garden, we'd have another try somewhere else so off we headed to Old Spitalfields Market in Shoreditch. We checked the nearest tube station (Liverpool Street) and, having alighted there, I checked our direction of travel with Google Maps on my phone. "This way" quoth I, confidently and set off at a brisk pace. When we found ourselves briskly pacing past Aldgate East tube station, Elaine asked, not unreasonably, "Why would they say Liverpool Street is the nearest tube if we are passing Algate East on the way to the market?" I rechecked the phone. "Yes, it's just down this road" I reassured her only to find, a quarter of a mile later, that we were heading in the opposite direction to where we should have been going. I found that "Oh well, it's all good exercise" is not a helpful thing to say in these circumstances.

Old Spitalfields Market is definitely recommended. I was expecting hipster hell but it turned out to be a great mix of all sorts (Saturdays and Sundays are 'general' markets whereas Thursdays and Fridays are more themed with antiques and clothes/art respectively). There were also loads of good food stalls which looked really good but, being so soon after our breakfast, we sadly didn't sample. My other regret was not checking the fit of the trousers of a Harris Tweed suit. Having tried the jacket which was slightly small across the chest but really long in the arms, I didn't bother checking the fit of the trousers. I realised later that it was probably made for someone tall (the long arms were a clue) and might have been one of those rare finds: a vintage suit that a) I like the look of and b) was long enough in the legs for me. Anyhow, we both decided that OSM has to be revisited and this time, it would be with empty stomachs!

So that was our trip to London. I still love to visit whilst being even more sure that I could not live there. The pace is noticeably faster than here in Rammy, something that only hits you when you have been away a long time. In places it's dirty as anything (surviving telephone boxes are places that you just wouldn't want to stand in), parts look a bit shabby and run-down. In contract, there are yet more new buildings on the skyline such as the Shard (incomplete the last time we were in London) and a few others. But even a street level, so much has changed. The streets around Victoria Station that I used to know really well through walking from station to college and back every weekend, are now completely alien to me. I just could not get my bearings as there was virtually nothing I recognised in the area. All around the station, new glass-fronted buildings rise up and tower over the one or two things that I could still cling to such as the Victoria Palace Theatre. Perhaps, for future visits, it will be best to treat it as a completely foreign land, one I am visiting for the first time and just accept the fact that the world we knew then is no more and everything has been remade anew. Buildings matter less than the friendships from that time that still endure.