Day 21: to Hampton Court

Last night Eddie and Mark stayed up late to watch their golfer play - and win in a playoff. Our breakfast this morning was therefore a slow and mellow affair. I was up, packed and breakfasting by about 9. We had about an hour of conversation and companionship before Paul, my driver, arrived around 10.20 am and I was off. We'd had a lovely time - so impossible to be sad on parting.

It was a miserable day- steady rain all the way.

Traffic was pretty good, considering. I was impressed with Paul's SatNav, which gave him timely and accurate information about breakdowns, road-works and blockages.

Paul had watched the last few holes of the golf last night and had also been to Cardiff to watch the Joshua-Parker boxing match that Eddie and Mark watched on Saturday night. Thanks to them, I could keep up a conversation with no knowledge whatever!


It was only in the last mile and a half that we were reduced to a bumper-to-bumper crawl because of road works near Hampton Court. That mile and a half took about 20 minutes, delivering us to The Mitre about 12.40pm.

It took a few minutes for the hotel to sort out my booking and ascertain that my room had, in fact, been serviced and I could move in. The recently-appointed Manager, a Scot, generously carried my luggage up the 4 steps and took me to my room, which is next to the first room I had in this hotel, opening on to the internal courtyard.


It's a pleasant outlook, even if it is hardly the weather for sitting outside!

The room is large, light and comfortable.















I repaired to the Bar for soup - and a couple of accompaniments, before checking out the Gardinarium a couple of doors down the road. There are couple of things worth returning to check out.

I had a bit of trouble remaining awake for the remainder of the afternoon but had a shower, washed my hair and made a coffee with the room's Nespresso machine.

I was keen to eat in the hotel tonight and check out the river. It was running high.










The restaurant that had been busy at lunch was deserted.

The waiter was apologetic. I had, it seems, had the last glass of Pinot Grigio in the hotel with my lunch.  The wild mushroom tortellini I chose was now ravioli. A combination of new management and a wedding over the weekend made for disruption. Both the Petit Ballon Blanc and the ravioli were good.

The swans appeared and made their way, seemingly effortlessly, against the swift current.

Even in the grey sky, the sunset was worth seeing.



 

Back in my room, I have been writing this to the accompaniment of  Painting the Holy Land with Lachlan Goudie on BBC4. There are lovely detailed shots of art works.







I have, over the last few days, made a bit of progress on my zenbroidery.  Tomorrow I need to be up and over at Hampton Court by 9.30am for the first day of my class at the RSN.

Day 3 To Windermere

I slept a bit better last night - a couple of wake-ups, but little trouble returning to sleep. I woke finally around 6.30am.                             
I was able, therefore, to shower, pack and breakfast in a leisurely fashion - even following my friend  Christine’s advice to have a Full English Breakfast.

I had plenty of time to ensure all my various devices were fully charged for the journey. My phone, of course, had been charging all night,






It had rained during the night. The streets were wet and there was still a light drizzle. It is an easy walk to Euston to catch my train to Oxenholme in the Lakes District. There was no platform information so I settled into the Virgin lounge to stitch.


 We were off on time - a fairly full train.

I thought of Christine as we whizzed through Watford.











Our first stop was what I had assumed, from announcements, was Warrington. Banky!

Then Wigan.
Then Wigan


and lovely Preston station where our train passes under the panelled glass ceiling.

At Lancaster I couldn’t help wondering if the brick retaining wall kept the bears at bay. My maternal grandmother was a Bearcraft - a name given by the Duke of Lancaster to the keepers of the bears he imported and kept in his bear park.

Andre, the same taxi driver who picked me up last year, was waiting at Oxenholme and filled me in on his friends, family and business on the scenic drive to Windermere.

The Ryebeck has changed little. I accepted the first floor room they had allocated me. I had requested a ground floor room, but my knee is no longer preventing me mounting stairs . Ground floor rooms are smaller, and the young women on duty carried my luggage, so here I am, in comfort with a view!  My only disappointment is a shower over the bath.







It is peaceful - although even here there is the occasional beeping of reversing vehicles!

The wifi hasn’t improved - only effective in the bar and lounge, but they are working on it! The good news is that I have quite good phone reception - not the case last year- and, as my room is above the lounge, the wifi has intermitent reach here.

There were 6 of us here tonight at the beginning of dinner. Genevieve arrived soon after. We had a lot to catch up on - and a lot of laughter. I won't post a photo of dinner until I have sought permission from those present.

The Retreat begins tomorrow afternoon.

Day 2: a little bit of Museum Mile

Although I had no trouble getting to sleep last night, I woke around 4 am and did not get back to sleep. I happily read, but was not full of beans during the day.


I had intended to visit a couple of the Museums in the Museum Mile. Yesterday Christine had supplied  me with a map and information.

My intention was to walk to the Foundling Museum, spend a couple of hours there, have a look at Lamb's Conduit Street, walk back to the British Library, then investigate both St Pancras International Train Terminal and the Granary.







It didn't quite work out like that. Before I reached my first destination, my sciatica had kicked in quite strongly so I made a stop at the British Library.


I was fascinated by the plaques in the courtyard floor. I hadn't noticed them before, although I'm sure they were there - dozens of them. I am presuming they are literally vents in case of fire in the basements


I made for the Treasures Room to revisit the Lindisfarne Gospels, the Magna Carta and a host of other manuscripts. Unfortunately, photography is not allowed. I do, however, enjoy visiting them - like old friends.

There was filming going on and a lot of internal construction in preparation for the next big Exhibition - on the voyages of Captain Cook. It doesn't open util 27 April.

I was rather keen to visit the Foundling Museum - having seen Tim Wanacott do a segment on it's history and treasures on an old Antiques Roadshow. However, I I was experiencing pain and numbness in my left leg so decided to curtail my walk. I walked past the St Pancras Hotel











and around the corner - to capture the odd assortment of buildings surrounding the St Pancras International Terminal.














I'm sure Michael Portillo must have, at some time, have waxed lyrical about the scale and beauty of the buildings.

Although I wandered around amongst the cafes, shops and flower sellers, I decided against the Selfie Trail.  I am, after all, not much of a fan of selfies!  It is a much used and accommodating building.

I walked back around the back streets, having abandoned all thought of walking either to Granary Square or the Foundling Museum. There are some noteworthy buildings along the way as well as memorials.

I returned to the hotel in time to have a late lunch of green pea soup.




For dinner I once again indulged in duck. Again, delicious.






The Wesley Hotel restaurant is very much a city hangout. As I still notice with business travel, the players are mostly male. Last night there were 31 diners when I was having dinner, of whom 5 were female. Most appear to be local workers - in sales or banking, eating together after work, or friends catching up.

I also noted the preferred footwear of young workers - white being male, women in short, smart boots..


I am now tired but have managed to stay awake until 10pm. Tomorrow I have an 11.30 train to Oxenholme. I'm hoping to sleep well and pack in  the morning. Very much looking forward to this next stage - the main reason for coming.

Day 1 London: Christine and the Wellcome Museum

Last night I slept remarkably well. Asleep by 8.30pm, I woke several times during the night, but managed to get myself back to sleep, and woke refreshed about 6.30 am. Couldn't ask for better than that!

I had arranged to meet my friend Christine, from Watford,  at my hotel at around 11.15am. As considerate as ever, Christine was concerned I would be jetlagged, so the hotel was easy for me, and not too hard for her. She arrived with the current What's On booklet for the Wellcome Collection, around the corner on Euston Road, and an information brochure on the Museum Mile.  After we'd chatted and laughed our way through coffee, and she had satisfied herself that I was not jetlagged, on her suggestion we walked around to the Wellcome Collection.

I had visited this marvellous museum last year.

We worked our way around some of the permanent Medicine Man collection. Here photography, and posting of photographs taken, is permitted.


It is a hugely varied collection, from demonstration models,













to sculptures about body image
















and icons.





We spent some time in the current special exhibition Ayurvedic Man: Encounters with Indian Medicine. Unfortunately photography is not permitted. It had some very interesting pieces, some of which can be seen on the Collection's website, which describes the exhibition in these terms:

Taking its name from the 18th-century Nepali painting, the ‘Ayurvedic Man’, this exhibition showcases an exquisite range of material from Wellcome’s historical collections, including Sanskrit, Persian and Tibetan manuscripts, vibrant gouache paintings, erotic manuals and animal-shaped surgical tools.

Ayurveda, translating as ‘the knowledge of long life’, is a centuries old but ever-evolving set of medical practices from South Asia. Today it continues to be transformed by biomedical and cultural exchanges. However, several questions remain: Who owns medical heritage? And what is the contemporary relevance of collections built from colonial encounters?

It is such an intelligent use of a collection. I especially liked the four wooden votives from 1898...an offering in votive form to Sitala, the Hindu Goddess of the Smallpox.     the exploration of karma as a medical phenomenon and a wonderful watercolour of a woman swinging below an aubergine plant. The last is reproduced on the Restaurant menu. The aubergine (for my friends who grow them) is used in traditional Indian medicine to treat conditions such as inflammation, neuralgia, cardiac debility, ulcers, bronchitis, cholera, asthma. fever and general weakness.(pdf text file at https://wellcomecollection.org/exhibitions/WduTricAAN7Mt8yY) 

Christine generously treated me to lunch at the Restaurant. I had  the Moroccan Carrot Soup, sourdough and butter. Delicious. Christine's Roasted fennel, salmon and quail egg salad does not show to advantage in my photo!



I don't have a bucket list of places to which I want to travel. My recent travel has been to extend my knowledge, skills and relationships in embroidery and family history. That has led to the blessing of friendships with like-minded people- and the joy of catching up with them when I can. In that I feel rich.

The world looks so much better after a good sleep and the company of a friend! It really was a Welcome!

Christine was also able to tell me that yesterday's blog post did not load properly in the email version. Apologies to those affected. I have consequently removed the video and replaced it with still photos. I won't try that again!

In London

The flight to London via Dubai was uneventful. I refused supper, slept soundly for about 6 hours, dozed a little more, read and stitched. ate breakfast. In Dubai I caught up with email. The Women's toilet had an interesting tiled mural - would adapt easily to embroidery!


For lunch between Dubai and London I have pumpkin soup, sea-bass and ice-cream.  Someone forgets to bring my sea-bass course. When it eventually arrives it is very good.

London is grey and wet but not especially cold. 10C is a lot better than it was a week ago! The immigration official asks why I am here. I say "For an Embroidery Retreat". He asks what that is, what I will do when it is over, if I am being paid. He decides it is 'leisure', stamps my passport, smiles, hopes I have a good time. I'm pleased I bought the carry-on with wheels. I walk about a kilometre inside Heathrow.
The drive from the airport takes me over the Hammersmith Flyover then through quiet streets of Kensington and Chelsea.

I am struck again by the layers of apartment buildings - from at least Victorian times, successive efforts to fit people in, to improve services - but to pack them in.






It is the story of all big cities but really obvious in London. I've always been a city dweller - but this is not attractive. I'm a bit overwhelmed by the proximity of living, the scale, the question "Is this enough for people?". Maybe I'm brainwashed by Escape to the Country. Or maybe it's part of what my father rejected by staying in Australia after WWII.

My objection to the proposed nine-storey apartment block next to mine in Adelaide seems overblown. Then again, Adelaide seems very precious and  special in the light of this speeding snapshot of  London.


I wonder if these are apartments.









33 hours after leaving home, I checked into the Wesley Hotel, 200 yards from Euston Station. Yes, I have been here before. I'm a creature of habit. I want a clean, quiet place to recover from the flight, within walking distance of my train to the Lakes District.  The Wesley more or less fits the bill.

As I explained when I stayed here last year, this was once a Methodist International Hostel, later converted to a hotel and operating on sustainable, ethical principals.The rooms are small, but clean and compact. I liked the food in the bar.

I say more or less, because there are extensive road works going on around Euston, traffic is diverted and I can hear various tapping and rumbling noises. Nothing that would keep me awake should I succumb to sleep. It seems to be a universal condition. Reminds me of home!

I am now feeling really tired - and trying to stay awake until at least 8 pm. Tomorrow I'm catching up with Christine, a friend from the Crewel Work Company Scottish Embroidery Tour in 2015 - the best possible use of a day in London. We will have so much to share.

The book I read on the plane was Murder on the Lake by Bruce Beckham - set in Cumbria with the action on Derwentwater. It was a good choice - a good read and lots of local lore to get me in the mood for Windermere (discounting, of course, the murders!). Maybe I'll read the rest of the series on this trip.

I also progressed my Estense Embroidery experiment  on the flight- learned a lot from it - but that's a story for my embroidery blog!


Artichoke soup (delicious) for dinner + icecream and a glass of wine.
trying to stay awake just a little bit longer.