Tag: uk

Secret maps

Amy O1 Comment

We woke very early in Cambridge and had breakfast at a Pret a Manger in probably the fanciest building we’d ever encountered for this establishment. A man was seated nearby waiting for his friend, while a man at another table drolly asked him if he intended to attend the parade to celebrate the Battler of Agincourt’s 575th anniversary. The Battle of Agincourt was one of few battles won by the British in the 100 Years’ War with France. The man waiting for his friend responded he would not attend the fictional parade; rather he would celebrate later with a bottle of wine. “Not French wine, I hope,” quipped the historical savant.

My husband had won the aBode shower lottery for the second day running. Warm for him, lukewarm for me. We headed for hopefully greener pastures with a fairly uneventful trip from Canterbury West to Charing Cross. The train had been nearly empty leaving Canterbury but became jam-packed, stop by stop, by the time we reached London. We had been wondering how on earth the Southeastern train system is able to run with any form of profitability considering how empty almost every train we’d been on over four days had been. It appears to work similar to Christmas for retailers. All the money must be made on trains as they approach stops close to London.

By the time we arrived in London, it was raining again, but our hotel was reasonably close by way of a funny alley. Our new hotel in London, The Grand at Trafalgar Square, met the new financial criteria to which my husband and I agreed before the trip. They weren’t ready to check us in, but checked our luggage and showed us to a nice lounge where we could regroup and make a latte. The hotel seemed pretty fancy for our new price point.

We were intending to meet a friend later in the day who was coming into London from California with her adult children. Their original flight had been cancelled and their new flight would be later. So we bought tickets for the Secret Maps exhibit at the British Library to stay occupied. We’ve been to the British Library twice in the past, once for the Treasures exhibit, years ago, and once for the Medieval Women exhibit earlier this year. The British Library has super interesting documents to start with, and they pull together such interesting narrative and themes for their exhibits.

This exhibit about secret maps was the best I’ve seen there. It just never occurred to me how interesting the history of maps is and how they were used–to share information as well as to obscure, deflect, and mislead to maintain an upper hand–commercially, politically, in warfare. Also, how many different kinds of maps there have been to be used for these purposes, including maps of land masses, trade routes, the heavens, escape routes, war equipment and assets. And how maps were shared with the right people.

After viewing the exhibit, we checked into our hotel, learning that The Grand is part of the Club Quarters chain. We’ve only stayed at this chain once on one of our trips many years ago. There’s a lot of work and lounge space in the hotel and it’s quite fancy. I noted that this would have been a good hotel for the times I worked from London last year. In contrast, the rooms are pretty basic and small. But, hey, hot water both days we need it. A win.

Speaking of maps used for deception, it’s long been a thing that Mikel Arteta keeps things close to the vest in his press conferences before a match. He tells the truth and nothing but the truth, but with regard to injuries, it’s often not the whole truth. There is often someone who came off the last match limping, of whom Arteta will truthfully say in his next press conference before a match whether the player has been in practice that week. But often he’ll say they’ll evaluate them on match day and see how things stand. Then that player may show up as a starter, or as a sub, or we’ll find out after the match he’ll have surgery tomorrow and will be out for at least three months.

Gabriel Magalhaes, big Gabi, came off in the match against Atletico Madrid with about 20 minutes left to play and it looked like something was not quite right with him. Arteta had said in his pre-match press conference for Crystal Palace that he was unsure whether Gabi would play against Crystal Palace. “Let’s see how he evolves,” he said. Arsenal is having a wonderful defensive season and a lot of the reason has been the play of Big Gabi. His partnership with William Saliba is considered among the best in the Premier League. And obviously, he’s been important for delivering goals from set plays. Either he heads it in himself or places where someone else can finish up the job.

But Arsenal’s defense is not only good because of Gabriel and Saliba; the whole team contributes to Arsenal’s overall stability. Arsenal has held every team goalless since September 28, yes, but teams hadn’t even been able to register a shot on target. And we’ve seen some great play from the person who can deputize Big Gabi, Christhian Mosquera. So losing Big Gabi would not be ideal, but it’s not a horrible situation either.

Arteta also used his press conference to encourage fans to bring the noise and spirit. “Play the game with us,” he requested. “If we’re going to win the league, everybody has to turn up.”

On that backdrop we arrived at the stadium the next day having spent a morning walking in the Tower Hill area and having had a nice lunch. We got to the stadium a bit late but still made time to walk through the Armoury and, as has lately been our habit, buying nothing. My husband and I were sitting apart from each other but both in the west stands. He was high up near the half way line; I was in Club near the North end. My seats were just about even with the D at the top of the penalty box. We had had a pretty easy time getting tickets for this match, none of the usual drama and not very many clicks.

I arrived at my seat with very little time to spare before the teams came out of the tunnel. There was something odd about my section that made it a little less straightforward to access from any direction and it took me some time to find the right passages. My section had quite a few human season ticket holders in it, and I’ve found that those areas of Club are almost as much fun as being in other parts of the stadium. Lots of spirit.

The whole stadium seemed to be taking Arteta’s request to heart. A lively atmosphere considering the opponent was Crystal Palace. Technically a derby, but usually one without as much of the usual rancor. This even though Crystal Palace managed to produce a tie in our last match at The Emirates.

One possible point of drama was that Eberechi Eze came to us from Crystal Palace. As I recall, he scored one of the goals in the match at the Emirates last year. The woman to the left of me wondered aloud whether Eze would celebrate if he scored a goal against Crystal Palace. There is some nonsense where players who score against their former team will not celebrate so as to be kind to their former club. To date, the Crystal Place fans have been notably classy about losing Eze to Arsenal. He did a lot for them. They appreciate that. Eze has played pretty well for Arsenal but has only scored one goal this season, in the Carabou cup. It seemed we probably would not find out the answer to that question on the day.

In contrast, Declan Rice came to Arsenal from West Ham under similar circumstances but while producing £105 million in revenue for his former club. Money that could be used to strengthen the West Ham team beyond replacing this one player. But Declan Rice gets tortured when he plays against West Ham. They do not forgive him at all. Rice didn’t score against West Ham in his first season with Arsenal. He did manage to score against them in early October at the Emirates. And while he did not celebrate the goal he scored right in front of the visiting fans, he appeared to make eye contact. A bit of a glare, I felt.

An example of a player who did celebrate against his former team: Arsenal had a player named Emmanuel Adebayor from 2006 to 2009, when he was sold to Manchester City. The first time Arsenal faced Man City at Man City’s stadium, Adebayor scored a goal against Arsenal and then ran the whole length of the pitch to celebrate in front of the Arsenal fans, who rioted. I’m sure he was receiving a ton of schtick from the Arsenal fans before that decision. The process of losing players was so painful at that time. You felt so insulted when someone chose to leave.

I was so late to my seat I didn’t have time to check out the line-up. As soon as the players came out of the tunnel, there was Big Gabi, clearly in the starting line-up. Quite a relief. And Eze, of course.

All the usual ceremony took place. Good old Arsenal (blah), North London forever (yay) and finally the kick-off.

Many times I’ve been asked why I fell in love with Arsenal. Although I fell in love well in advance of the Premier League being picked up by NBC sports in 2013, I remember a great article in the sporting press in conjunction with the rollout campaign for NBC about how, now that everyone would be able to watch every match, someone could go about selecting a team to support. It was described as being akin to the sorting hat in Harry Potter. Just watch the soccer and a team will be magically chosen for you.

I was watching soccer with my kids and husband on Fox soccer channel well before that and had that sorting hat experience after watching Arsenal a few times. When I try to verbalize why Arsenal was chosen, I say I’m a sucker for beautiful, flowing soccer. Arsene Wenger, Arsenal’s manager at the time, also appeared to have a weakness for that beauty. His teams were stacked with players with technical ability. People who could complete the beautiful pass, deception with the ball, a tricky dribble, a back heal, a lovely, arcing shot. But Arsenal was also naive in spirit and porous in defense. The Arsenal of old could also not break down a low block, but it was very susceptible to counterattacks.

But now, Arsenal is not that. This is not really a pretty team. So why has the sorting hat not rethought my options?

I’ve heard it said that the reason is Arsenal fans are hypocritical. Speaking only for me, I think I’ve become more mature as an appreciator of the sport. Not just the overtly pretty things, but things that are less obvious. I have learned that what I want and what Mikel Arteta wants are often two different things. And when someone knows more than you and sees things you never could and whose job hangs in the balance, it may make sense to try to respect that. And try to learn what that person is attempting to achieve. What is the objective when working from the back? What is the objective of the horseshoe of death (as we call it when Arsenal’s defenders are passing from right to left and back to right)? Why has Arteta selected this player in this situation and a different player in another situation? What are the different ways Arsenal attacks a set piece? I’ve learned to appreciate winning a duel, laying down a great tackle, working in concert to ensure our defensive team is the last line of defense and not the first line. And, of course, all the different ways to produce a deceptive set piece.

And when I approach a match with not just excitement, but also curiosity, a match that might have felt tedious to me feels interesting and like a learning experience. The Crystal Palace match, especially in the first half, was probably the poster child for a match I would have formerly found tedious, but at this time found fascinating. And with regard to my fellow fans at the stadium, I would say almost every time they might be starting to feel frustrated, they reacted by trying to lift up the team with chanting. Arteta’s request had clearly been heard.

Crystal Palace of course deployed a low block and Arsenal of course struggled to unlock it. I can only remember one shot on goal. And when Arsenal did unlock it, guess how?

Set piece again, olé olé. One of the Crystal Palace’s players briefly lost the plot near the end of the first half and fouled Saka, giving up a free kick, which Declan Rice took. At least 20,000 fans in the stadium picked up their phones and started taking video, including the man to my right. The ball Declan kicked naturally came to Big Gabi, who was facing Declan and away from the goal and who headed it back toward the edge of the penalty area. Eze came running in and struck the ball in a very odd way. Since the match, I’ve heard the kick he made referred to as a karate kick, a scissor kick, a hitch kick, a forward bicycle kick, and probably a few other things.

Whatever. It rocketed into the net.

Answer to the question posed at the top of the match by my seat mate: Eze did not really celebrate. He kind of also did not not celebrate.

We celebrated enough to make up for whatever it was he was doing.

At halftime I went to concessions and stood in a long line of people getting beer and ultimately picked up a cup of tea. One of the beers Arsenal is now serving at the stadium is Guinness. It takes a long time to pour a Guinness–I wonder if they regret that? The lady next to me complained fiercely to me about the inefficiency of the process of serving beer. Beer is available at no added charge to those in Club. Ergo, a lot of people want one. I appreciated her decision to read me into her frustration and nodded sympathetically, even though my empathy was not really piqued.

In the second half, Arsenal had a lot of chances right in front of me, just no success scoring. Hitting the bar, goal keeper saves, a lot of excitement, not much payout. Some set pieces that did not produce a goal.

Arsenal’s former player Eddie Nketiah was introduced late in the match to the applause of both home and away fans. Eze was withdrawn about 5 minutes from the end of normal time to the applause both home and away fans.

Toward the end, everyone seemed so tired and Crystal Palace did make some progress challenging toward the goal. I think Arteta was very willing to trust our defensive stability and not worry so much about scoring again. As much as Arteta does not worry. Whatever we are seeing on the field and however we might try to understand and appreciate it, there appears to always be something more he is looking for. I guess we are all growing up together but he’s working on it well ahead of most of us.

The match ended 1-0. The only shot registered by statisticians as being “on target” against Arsenal was this weird thing from Eddie Nketiah that David Raya easily caught. Arsenal’s six matches in October ended with no goals scored against it and only one shot taken by an opponent–Eddie Nketiah’s–being ruled “on target.”

My husband and I normally meet after the match at the Arsene Wenger statue. I got confused with the unusual set-up of my section and headed the wrong way out of the stadium. It took me forever to figure out my mistake. So long, and with crowds so thick. it just made sense to keep walking. It was raining again and when I arrived my husband was waiting under building near the statue.

We walked in the rain back to Arsenal station, 3 points in our raincoat pockets and plans for a nice dinner with our California friends.

On a clear day

Amy O3 Comments

With the rain in the rear view window, we woke early and visited Cafe St. Pierre for breakfast. I had the “French breakfast” which was the croissant of your choice, a baguette with butter and jam, and a “bowl” of coffee. I thought maybe they just meant a large cup, but they really did mean a bowl. I had to lift it up and slurp it like a cat. (I hope that is what I was meant to do.) Lot of carbs in that breakfast but we had an active day planned.

Shower Report for the day: After the hotel invested a bit of time evaluating and fixing the prior day, water heat was by now a bit of a lottery. My husband won the warm shower and I won the lukewarm one. Steps in the right direction.

We took the train from Canterbury’s other station, Canterbury East, to Dover. It was quite a beautiful ride through cute towns and forests on a nearly empty train.

You should probably never judge a town by the appearance around its train station, but Dover seemed surprisingly gritty. We searched out a Welcome Center, which turned out to be associated with the Dover Museum and Bronze Age Boat Gallery. My husband was familiar with the bronze-age boat on display and asked about it in the Welcome area. They invited us to head up and see it on the top floor of the museum.

The boat was found near Dover in some sludge in 1992 during a construction project. Later evaluation determined it to be about 3,500 years old, the oldest boat ever found in the world. The original boat is displayed in a giant glass case. It’s in unbelievably good condition. As with many archeological finds, the discovery of this boat adds to our understanding of how humans lived many years ago and what they were capable of.

The exhibit included displays of bronze-age tools such as may have been used to build the boat. Because the boat was missing the back end, it also included an exhibit on how archeologists have built theories for what the back of the boat may have been like. I thought that was super interesting. Interesting to experience the thought process of curious and knowledgeable people.

My favorite exhibit walked through an exercise that had been completed after the boat was found. A modern team attempted to replicate how the boat was built using bronze-age tools. They were able to build a replica of the boat (part of which is in the museum) in 6 weeks. In theory, the original builders probably were more familiar with the tools and boat building and could have completed it more quickly. But, in a bit of shade thrown by the people replicating the process, they concluded that, in part, it took them the long 6 weeks also because they also tried to provide beautiful finishes which the original team had not. That also provided clues as to the use of the boat. It was utilitarian and probably not ceremonial. But it certainly stood the test of time.

From the Welcome Center we walked over to the harbor and up the shore until we reached where the path is accessed to go up on the famous cliffs. The harbor is a functional harbor from which a number of huge ferries left or returned from trips over to France. It is not a beautiful stretch and sits right next to an extremely busy road. There are some cute cottages as you seek the path but they do not have a pretty view.

We climbed up and up the path. The wind was whipping but with the steepness of the path I became overheated pretty quickly. I stopped to remove my raincoat to finish the rest of the climb. On a clear day it’s possible to see France across the channel and we could make out the outline in the distance. In fact, we were close enough to France from the cliffs of Dover that T-Mobile sent me a text welcoming me to France and explaining the rates for texts and calls.

We were starting to be in a space that was far more beautiful than gritty. We could see the beautiful white cliffs, rolling hills, grazing sheep, the Dover castle. Even the harbor, which had seemed so industrial near the bottom, was pretty as we got higher on the cliffs.

At some point we had to make a decision about taking the high road or the low road. Our choice lead us very close to the edge of the cliffs. Although I’ve done a lot of Colorado hiking and skiing in my life, I’m not super comfortable with heights and I sensed my husband was also not so comfortable near the edge. We did all right and ultimately came to the part of the path that’s not so “out there.”

Our destination on the trail was the South Foreland Lighthouse. To reach it you go through a field of giant cattle. On the first floor of the lighthouse there is a cute little tea shop called Mrs. Knott’s Tearoom. It has a limited selection of items but who cares? It has cream team, which as we know means scones and clotted cream. It was served in lovely china in a beautiful room. It was a delicious way to celebrate the mid point of our hike.

We intended to go to Dover castle after our hike and, while we could see the castle from the cliffs, there is really no way to get to it without leaving the cliffs. So we hiked back down and then walked up a different hill, more or less in town, to get up to the castle.

If you may remember, my husband hurt his back on our last trip to England and it was not healed for this trip. He was able to do most things, but I tried to help with his luggage on stairs from airport to tube to hotel and carrying our shared backpack on our trips around Kent to try to preserve his ability to tour. He was still using heating belts to keep his back limber.

We had already walked more than 16,000 steps and 111 floors (so says Apple) and I felt maybe we could admit a small defeat and take a cab up to Dover castle. My husband would not hear of it. I’ll admit I was cursing his not-good-at-that-moment name as we climbed up the new hill. The fact is, we won’t always be able to do what we used to be able to do in the way we could do it. I hope over time we’ll be able to adjust our travel to fit our bodily realities and not have to stop travelling just because we can’t do it the way we used to. i.e., we may not always be able to hoist our luggage up and down stairs of stations on the Piccadilly line. Admittedly the cab in this case was for me as much as it was for him. I was pretty tired.

Now I’ve exposed you to the key conflicts in our household at the start of my retirement. My husband worries about spending too much money and I worry about losing our health while pushing to do things our bodies may be on the verge of no longer being able to do. My husband, the one with the sore back, seems to feel that he is not getting any older physically. In fact, this morning (a few weeks after this trip) he told me my feelings about aging are “a self-fulfilling prophesy.” I’m pretty sure our bodies will themselves fulfill my prophesy and, you know, “My Body, My Self,” so I can’t argue with his statement even though I suspect it will go down a bit differently than he intended with that turn of phrase.

But–this time–we made it to the top and made some quick calculations of what we’d be able to do at the castle. We were running out of time and it turned out there was a lot more to see and do at the castle than I had realized. This was not just another medieval castle (although it also was that), this area was used to protect England during modern wars also. Assuming it is ok to consider the World Wars as “modern.” There was also an very old church on the site. I think it would be easy to spend a full day at Dover castle.

We decided to hit the church and the medieval castle and skip the “modern” wartime tunnels, fire command post, underground hospital, etc. It was a tough call because those things looked very interesting.

The St. Mary in Castro church was built around 1500 years ago, probably on the site of a much earlier church. It apparently was a building that was not affected like other churches by the boring people coming in and demanding that color be removed. It had beautiful, colorful tiles in walls and ceilings, in addition to lovely windows. It’s a functional church. We had very little information about it as we toured, but it was lovely to be in. Next to the church sits a Roman lighthouse that’s been converted into a bell tower. Pretty cool.

We explored the castle proper. Although a building of some sort was in place during the Roman occupation and was damaged and rebuilt following the Norman invasion, the medieval castle as it exists now formed under Henry II, who we met yesterday as the person responsible–accidentally or intentionally– for Thomas Becket’s death. We walked through the external walls and the grassy enclosure and then through the keep. It was quite large with several floors to explore.

The way the castle was exhibited with representative but somewhat cartoonish furnishings was quite a lot like the castle at Norwich we toured last month. Similar set-up geared well for kids to explore. This castle was in much better shape, though. Because it was before Halloween, what the kids seemed most interested in in the castle was a worker dressed up for Halloween like a witch.

My favorite part of the castle was he views from the roof. It was unbelievably windy up there but you could see all over town, out on the country side, over to the cliffs. Beautiful.

We made our way down the hill again with sheep visible grazing in the moat of the castle. Our next destination was the rail station. We had decided to take the train to Deal, which we had not been able to visit as planned on our recent trip to Sandwich. The plan was to see Deal and have dinner before heading back to Canterbury where my husband was hoping to join his Italian language class online.

However, by the time we arrived in Deal we had new learnings about the train schedule and our time was going to be much shorter than we had originally understood. I had found a restaurant close to the station with acceptable ratings that also looked like it might make for a quick dinner, The Lane. It was early for dinner and there were very few people in the restaurant. Upstairs there was a Wicked-themed birthday party going on and the sound system in the restaurant was playing “For good.”

You may have noticed from my recent reports of what I’ve eaten in various places, except for breakfast, I’ve been leaning toward soups and salads. It was that point of traveling when your body demands vegetables. But when I sat down at the table at The Lane and reviewed the menu, my body demanded, of all things, a hot dog. And chips.

As you know, I live in the suburbs of Chicago, and what Chicago is known for, in addition to deep-dish pizza, is hot dogs. And I love a hot dog with everything that a Chicago dog normally comes with, except sport peppers. Tomatoes, relish, celery salt, a dill pickle spear, onions, mustard. Never ketchup. If you ask for ketchup in Chicago you will be abused. Sport peppers are a little too spicy for me and I’m in danger of having a sneezing fit when I eat them. Then it just becomes a Whole Thing. I remember ordering hot dogs in the Chicago Loop at lunchtime when I was working downtown. I would always say “Dog with everything except sport peppers.” And the worker would always repeat back my order, “Dog with everything, extra sport peppers.”

I digress, big time. The “classic” hot dog I ordered at The Lane was not a Chicago hot dog, but instead had on it ketchup, mustard, pickles, and “crispy onions.” As it arrived at my table I noticed it was HUGE. I figured I could manage about half that. I didn’t take a picture of it because it was just a hot dog. Then I took a bite. It was messy but the most amazing and yummy thing I’ve eaten for a while (this on a day I had scones and clotted cream). Maybe it was the crispy onions that made it so good? Maybe it was just a better quality hot dog? Maybe I was just really hungry after so much walking? I changed my mind and took a picture of part of it. My husband seemed to enjoy his tacos as much as I did the hot dog. And I did eat the whole thing.

As we were leaving, we asked the server if she had suggestions about what we should do if we had only 20 minutes in Deal. The thing she could think of was a local bar with a two-for-one drink special. I know she had just witnessed us eating our meal in a hurry and that may have made an impression, but I don’t think I could do two drinks in 20 minutes. In any case, we were not up for the challenge.

We thanked her and walked 5 minutes to the shore, took in the shops along the street next to the shore and the pier.

Deal is a cute little town, worthy of more than a 20-minute tour some day. But we had a train to catch and an Italian class to attend back at our temporary home in Canterbury.

Canterbury Tales

Amy O2 Comments

We woke to a raw, wet day, endured the cold showers I mentioned in my last post, and then walked several blocks to the highly recommended Refectory Kitchen for breakfast. We made a point to sit far from the door and were quickly served a much-needed warm drink. My husband had a dish called “Green eggs and ham” (green because of pesto) and I had a French toast with blueberry compote. Great way to start the day.

We steeled ourselves and walked through the rain in our practical footwear over to the Canterbury Cathedral. We’ve seen a lot of Cathedrals lately and I know that, to some people, they start to be all alike. While it may be true that many parts of the physical cathedral are similar to others, what I usually find so interesting is the unique history of the people connected with the Cathedral. The Cathedral at Canterbury has a notably colorful history. We used the audio tour available and found it interesting and useful.

Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer includes imagined stories of pilgrims who traveled to Canterbury Cathedral. I read parts of it either in high school or college and, although I’ve forgotten so much from many books I’ve read, the details in some of those stories are still fresh in my mind.

People made the pilgrimage to Canterbury in homage to Thomas Becket. Thomas Becket had been a nobleman and friend of King Henry II who was made Archbishop Of Canterbury. Kings and archbishops had great power over the subjects and King Henry II had reason to believe that by installing the like-minded Becket he would be able to exert more influence on the church. But as soon as Becket was made Archbishop, he began to go his own way to the great frustration of the king.

What happened ultimately is in dispute. Henry II either A) sent soldiers to kill Becket or B) said something innocuous that made the soldiers incorrectly believe they were being sent to kill Becket. Regardless of Henry II’s actual intent, the soldiers went to Canterbury and killed Becket inside the Cathedral.

Now martyred, he was named a saint by the Pope. And although pilgrims previously trickled to Canterbury Cathedral, Becket’s martyrdom and subsequent canonization turned that trickle into a deluge. Becket’s remains are buried in the cathedral and formerly could be viewed by visitors who were willing to pay for the privilege. I believe that is not possible today. (Maybe I should have displayed my crypto.)

The site where Becket was murdered is commemorated with some art that includes representations of the swords of the soldiers.

I’m a sucker for the cloisters in a Cathedral. It was still dark and rainy when I stepped out and took these photos which I think made them feel even more alive. You can just picture hundreds of years of monks coming and going.

My husband and I also loved the area called the Chapter House, which served as a place where monks learned the rules of the order. The carvings in the ceiling are gorgeous.

In the crypts, the sculpture called Transport is especially interesting. Created by British artist Antony Gormley, it’s made of nails from the Cathedral formed in the shape and size of a typical human body. It hangs from the ceiling using wires or strings. Photos aren’t allowed in the crypt but I found a picture of the sculpture online here. My husband enjoyed the display in the Water Tower that described how ink was made back in the day and also included a pocket sundial.

There is only one monarch entombed in the Cathedral, Henry IV. His uncle Edward, referred to as the Black Prince, is entombed close by. The Black Prince has an inscription on his tomb: “Such as thou art, sometimes was I, Such as I am such thou shalt be.” There is a lot more gory detail in the inscription, but that’s a good summary. You’re no different from me. The end is coming and you can’t avoid it.

As with all Cathedrals, there are some beautiful stained glass windows as well as some very plain windows that were forced into place during periods in history in which the powers that be disliked color in church and got rid of it. Or that had been removed to protect them from bombing in World War II and then had to be painstakingly reinstalled. Or that had not been removed and had been bombed and replaced. I particularly enjoyed the windows created by the Hungarian artist Ervin Bossanyi that were installed in 1960 and commemorate themes around World War II, salvation and peace.

We took a lunch break at a cute Mexican restaurant called Cafe des Amis du Mexique. I had a salad that was so yummy I’ve tried to recreate it at home. Don’t quite have it right as of this writing. I really enjoyed the papier mache art on the walls by Total Pap, which was available for sale.

With the rain now stopped, we took a short walk along the River Stour.

Our final serious destination for the afternoon was the Canterbury Roman museum.

This museum is built on the site where a Roman floor mosaic was unearthed by a public works drainage modernization project. Later, work to excavate rubble from World War II bombings exposed further elements of a Roman home on the same site. These elements are encased and visible for viewing in the museum. Prior to the section of the museum that contains the Roman house, there are interesting exhibits about Roman history in England and Roman life. By the time you get to the excavation site, you feel awfully darned smart about the Romans.

We ended the day with a nice walk through town and along the river and dinner at the oldest pub in Canterbury, the Parrot, dating back to the 1400s. Pretty cool place for a pint.

Charing Cross to Royal St. George’s

Amy O1 Comment

We had such a wonderful time in East Anglia on our last trip that, with four days between matches on this trip, we decided to spend some time in Kent. The regional train system is a bit different there from East Anglia. Instead of a pass you can use any three days over a seven-day period, you can buy a three-day pass. That worked well for us given the relatively shorter time we would have in Kent versus East Anglia.

On Wednesday morning we got up relatively early to get on a train from Charing Cross. As we waited for the track the train would be on to be announced at Charing Cross, some workers were handing out samples for an immunity drink called Moju. In contrast with other samples I’ve seen handed out around London, this one seemed very popular with the arriving passengers. I saw very few decline the small bottle. My husband decided to give it a try. He was unimpressed. “Unimpressed” is the wrong word. He seems to think that rather than being given this spicy mango juice for free at the train station, people should be paid to drink it. Hopefully, he is now immune to whatever it is that Moju will guard against. After his critique, I decided to take my chances with the germs that be.

We ultimately boarded the train and rode to Swanly, changing again at Sevenoaks to ride the rest of the way to the Canterbury West station. The weather was brisk as we waited for the train changes and I was glad I had my hat and gloves.

We were expecting rain the next day, Thursday, so we designated Thursday as the day we would spend time in Canterbury. After arriving in Canterbury on Wednesday, it was our plan to drop our luggage off at our hotel, aBode Canterbury, grab a quick lunch, and then take the train to Sandwich.

Canterbury city center is roughly in a circle, like Chicago’s Loop but a thousand times smaller. (That may not be a factual representation of scale.) aBode is on High street, which cuts the circle in half, quite well located. One of the things we noticed right away on our way to the hotel was signs for punt boat operators in Canterbury. Since we had just done that in Cambridge, it was not in our plans for this trip.

We completed all the steps of our actual plan, returning to the train station to get the next train to Sandwich. What he had planned to do in Sandwich was find the Saxon Shoreway trail that allows you to walk South along the coast for seven miles to a town called Deal.

We successfully found the trail but took what I perceived as a detour on the part of the path that went through The Royal St. George’s Golf Club. I’m not a golfer, have golfed maybe three times in my life excluding the decidedly not-real golf activity of mini golf. My husband, on the other hand, is a prolific golfer and also loves to watch the sport. As an insomniac, I watch the sport when I desperately need to catch up on sleep. In retrospect, my husband was doing the navigating at this point, so I suspect the “detour” to the golf course was not quite as unplanned as I may have initially believed.

I think golfers and non-golfers can all agree that most golf courses are quite lovely places to be. As we arrived on the public foot path at the edge of the course, I could see that the Royal St. George’s was something special. Undulating hills, amazing shadowy bunkers, grassy roughs and the sun shining just so on all of it. The pubic foot path goes right through the course on its way to the Sandwich Bay. At the edge of the course we stopped in the Pro shop which was open to the public and my husband reviewed some gaudy shirts, which he appeared not to be tempted to buy. Then we followed the path over the course and across the street to the Bay.

I gave my husband a chance to review this before I published it and it was very important to him that I make sure you understand that this course was the host of 15 British Opens and that he merely hoped to be able to see it from the path. The fact that he got to walk across this hallowed ground was both a surprise and a life experience he treasures.

By the time we reached the bay we had hiked quite a long way and I was ready to find a bathroom. We had seen no bathroom options since leaving the train and there clearly were none along the path to Deal. It was also getting to be a bit late to start a big hike and we suspected it might be dark before we arrived in Deal. So we made a decision to turn back toward town and see what there was to see in Sandwich.

As we left the golf course we saw two golfers starting a round with their dogs. What a place to walk your dog.

In Sandwich we stopped at the lovely Bell Hotel near the water and had a drink and an early dinner on the porch. I had wild mushrooms on toast and a tomato pepper soup along with a gin & tonic.

While the patio was bathed in sun, it was lovely. As the sun went down, a cloud of mosquitoes emerged so we closed shop and headed to the train station. Even the train station, which was pretty far from the water, had a lot of mosquitoes. We kept moving up and down the platform until the train came to avoid them.

Upon arriving back in Canterbury we were able to check into our room. The backstory of our hotel selection in Canterbury was that after we returned from our last London trip, the one in which we traveled through East Anglia, my husband did something he had never done following a trip to London. He counted up every expenditure we had made and worried about it. Not having a paycheck coming in has been a real mental challenge for him and, in a life that did not include me, I think he’d be tempted to live on his Social Security check.

As I mentioned before, my job before I was retired was helping my employer create financial planning software for planners employed by our firm. The software could complete a monte carlo analysis to understand, based on assets and likely expenditures, what is the probability you’ll have enough money to live on for the rest of your life. I used software many times to run our own projections. To be clear, I have some guilt about using money in this way in a world that has so many needs, but I know we can afford these trips for a while. It would be ideal and better for our financial future if Arsenal could just go ahead and win the Premier League this year.

In any case, I realized that the hotel price point we originally set when we started this going-to-London-to-watch-Arsenal thing had slid upward a bit over time, maybe more than inflation would suggest, and it’s been a long time since we had anything but a great hotel experience. To give my husband greater peace of mind, I suggested that we could downgrade our preferred price point and save a bit there and take a bit more risk that maybe every place we stay is not delightful. So this trip, that’s what we tried to do. We could not do it for the first weekend in London–hotels were just too tight due to what seemed to be Diwali celebrations and a literature convention–but we did it for our hotel in Canterbury and for our hotel after our return to London.

And on this backdrop, I can tell you our hotel in Canterbury was maybe not the luxe experience that you long to reach at the end of the day but was just fine. Our room was spacious, had wooden floors which I like, and nice lighting that made it appear to have more character than maybe it actually had. The bathroom was fine and had a combined shower/tub combo. It had a very functional towel warmer that like all towel warmers, it seems, was not quite close enough for you to be able to reach from the tub. You have to either remove it first and place it closer (no longer warm) or not remove it before your shower and stand dripping on the floor to retrieve it (beautifully warm). Or, what I did at the aBode, call my husband to deliver it. This warm towel became especially important, as I’ll explain.

But first, some context. On the train ride to Canterbury we had been reading in sports news that on the day before the match we had just seen, Atletico Madrid had held a practice at the Emirates. Upon arriving they noticed that the hot water was not functional in the visitors’ locker rooms and had complained to the club. They ended up having to shower back at their hotel and made an official complaint against Arsenal. Arsenal was ultimately forced to apologize. Arsenal’s side of the story was that upon learning the hot water was not working they managed to restore it before the end of the scheduled practice, but Atletico had ended their practice early. Both an excuse and maybe a bit of shade against the team Arsenal just beat. Maybe practice a bit longer and you’ll have both hot water and a win.

In any case, when I woke up on Thursday my husband informed me I was about to get a lesson in empathy. Our room, which had very warm towels available assuming appropriate steps were taken, had no hot water.

London autumn

Amy OLeave a comment

Fall has always been my favorite season. Cool, crisp days. Red and yellow leaves. Apple pie. I feel melancholy in Fall–an end is near–but for some reason I like that.

This Fall hasn’t much happened in Chicago. It’s been warm, sunny and while some leaves have dropped, they’ve mostly just dropped brown. While I hoped that was an anomaly, it seems Fall is delayed in London as well. Not much going on in the Fall leaves department although I can confirm that the days are cool. Wet and rainy as well. Not that that is necessarily a Fall thing. It’s kind of a London thing.

Hotels were in short supply for this trip and we ended up getting one in the Kensington area. My husband has never loved that area. In his mind, there are more interesting neighborhoods. After staying there once many years ago, we’ve never been back. A very nice thing about Kensington is that it’s closer to Heathrow than some of the other places we’ve stayed so a very quick trip in and out. It’s on the Piccadilly tube line so you can go straight to The Emirates without the crazy switch at Kings Cross St. Pancras where hundreds of Arsenal supporters are stacked up trying to change trains. It’s also kind of quiet and relaxing. There are many restaurant options without the hustle and bustle. In short, perhaps worthy of reconsideration for hotel selection.

Anyway, we found ourselves back in London on Monday for a Tuesday match. Our flight arrived after noon on and a driving rain was visible out the windows at Heathrow.

A big advantage of the hotel we chose this time, The Bailey’s, is that it’s across the street from the Gloucester Road tube station. I really appreciated not being out in that rain for more than a street crossing, even with my knee-length rain coat. It’s also kind of a quintessential charming, old London hotel. Small, pretty rooms with character. This hilarious stuffed cat decor in the lobby.

We got settled in our room and went out to get lunch at the Hereford Arms. We’ve been to this pub before. It’s always good. And, for my husband, they have the London Pride beer he enjoys. I enjoyed one, too, this time.

After that we went to Banksy Limitless, an exhibit of Banksy art and history. I enjoy street art and Banksy is interesting given his anonymity–for a famous guy. He is also quite prolific. This exhibit, clearly put together by Banksy or with his blessing, includes a timeline of his art and themes and images of the art he’s created over the years. In most cases, reproductions of the art. In reality, a lot of his art has been covered over across time. He uses stencils that he’s created so it’s possible to do a reasonable reproduction.

It’s unusual to view art at the same time as seeing the artist’s narrative interpretation of what he wanted to communicate. In most cases we view art long after the artist has passed. My husband observed that he likes to decide for himself what the art is about and found it distracting to always be told in this exhibit the artist’s meaning. I suspect the interpretation was necessary because the art is itself commentary on some recent occurrence or social norm. Does the art have meaning if you don’t know to what it refers? In that respect, I guess Banksy’s form of art is like comedy. It’s funny in the moment but does every moment have long-term significance such that it would be funny a few years later when you’ve forgotten what inspired it? And maybe in that sense, when we don’t yet know until much later if the moments were significant, we can’t yet tell if the art is significant. On the other hand, maybe we don’t have to care. Meaning in the moment can also be art.

My favorite exhibit was the film in which they captured the moment Banksy’s picture of the girl with a ballon was sold in auction. As soon as it was announced sold, a shredder built inside the frame activated and the picture was partially destroyed. The people in the auction looked sickened. (I saw some reporting that the buyer was offered to be allowed to void the sale but did not. Later, it was even more valuable after it was destroyed.)

Although one of Banksy’s themes is the peril of commercialism, Banksy himself did not fail to capitalize on this exhibit. In addition to the entrance fee, the final step of the exhibit was a big gift shop. Although we participated in the entrance fee we did not buy the t-shirts or mugs.

We are very slow learners because after a flight in which I barely slept we decided to attend a lecture on how chemistry is used in forensic science at the Royal Institution. The speaker, Kingston Associate Professor Baljit Thatti, brought in a full auditorium and she must have been amazing, because the presentation was followed by one of the most energetic question and answer sessions I’ve ever witnessed. But I can tell you very little about her obviously excellent presentation. It was a good amuse-bouche for a great night of sleep back at The Bailey’s.

In the morning, we took an hour-long bus ride to Richmond Park. Before coming to London I had googled all the events in London and what kept coming up instead of events was ways to enjoy Autumn in London. Richmond Park is part of the Royal Parks and was highly recommended as a way to take in Fall colors.

It’s possible to rent bikes and ride the 7-mile loop around the park but unfortunately bike rental is only on weekends this time of year. Instead we made our way across a huge, golden meadow on a grass path on our way to a garden called Isabella Plantation. As we walked we could see grazing animals in the distance that almost appeared to be sheep. Upon closer inspection, they were the famous wild red deer herd that had been introduced in the park by King Charles I in the 1600s.

As we were walking toward the red deer in the field to get a closer look we happened upon a much larger deer laying in the field, one of the fallow deer. We almost didn’t spot the huge buck in vegetation very close to our path.

Leaving the meadow and heading into the forest, the birds were unbelievably loud. I use an app called Merlin to identify bird calls I don’t know. Admittedly “calls I don’t know” is almost all bird calls. The app is produced by Cornell Lab of Ornithology in NY. It can be a bit spotty about identifying birds in England, but on this day it detected Eurasian Jackdaws and Rose-ringed Parakeets.

We got lost several times but ultimately found Isabella Plantation, a lovely, lush garden.

Even without colorful fall leaves, Richmond Park was, as the internet promised us, a great way to experience the beauty of Fall in London.

We took a bus into Fulham, had a nice, late lunch at an Italian pizza chain, took the train back to Central London to work out logistics for travels the next day, pre-gamed at the Admiralty, and then headed off to The Emirates for the Champion’s League match against Atletico Madrid. Despite a lovely, calm day in nature I felt very, very nervous.

A little work, a little play

Amy OLeave a comment

So we were back in London for the week and, as has been the case the last few times, I worked from London. But this time is different because I am retiring at the end of May. My replacement has already been hired and she is a good one, rapidly coming up to speed. So while I did work every day and almost put in a full week, it was also pretty chill. Every day I got up and put in an hour or two of work and then my husband and I had a planned activity. We’d enjoy that, have lunch, and then I’d go back to our room to work until dinner time.

There are a series of “Pub & rooms” in London where a small “hotel” stands above a historic pub. We’ve stayed at one before, The Bull and Hide. This time we tried The One Tun Pub & Rooms near Farringdon station, a pub supposedly patronized, in some earlier version, by Charles Dickens. From the outside, the pub didn’t seem like much and it wasn’t as thronged as other pubs nearby. When I finally saw the inside of it on–I’m ashamed to admit–the last day, it was so awesome. Cozy, fun, with delicious Asian food.

The rooms had a separate door, up some steep stairs. There were 3-4 rooms on our floor and more up a level. Cute and large room with lots of character. We were just above the pub. About 3:30 each day the noise from people gathering both downstairs and in the street outside and music playing would ramp up until about 9 p.m. By 10:30 each night it was pretty quiet.

The location was great. Farringdon station was a block away, so it was easy to get where we wanted to go, and there was a good selection of coffee shops, restaurants, and pubs nearby. This was the first time we visited London where it was more convenient to take the Elizabeth line than the Piccadilly line to and from the airport. Have to say the Elizabeth line is an easy way to travel. New, spacious cars, and there was never a time when we had to schlep our stuff up a bunch of stairs. Hotel excepting. I only packed a carry-on, but a week’s worth of crammed-in stuff is still kind of heavy for a near-retiree.

In the daily “fun hour” we managed the following attractions:

Siena: The rise of painting 1300-1350 at the National Gallery. This exhibit explores the art movement in 14th century Siena, dominated by Christian themes, drama, bright colors, and metallic finishes. That is a big oversimplification from an unsophisticated viewer of art. We sprung for the added mobile audio tour, which I highly recommend especially if you are an occasional art dabbler like me. It helped set the stage and provide details around what to look for, what was unique about the pieces it focused on. We’ve visited the National Gallery before and it has some great works with free admission. We only did a speed walk through the gallery on our way out of the exhibit this time. It felt a bit sinful to walk past Van Gogh’s sunflowers with only a sidelong glance.

War and the mind exhibit at the Imperial War Museum. The Imperial War museum is a great little attraction and it often has interesting exhibits. They are always thoughtfully done and thought-provoking, and this exhibit on “War and the Mind” was no exception. It covered how people become motivated to start and accept (even support) war, the impact war has on the psyche (and the reverse), both for soldiers and civilians, and then how we are motivated to bring war to conclusion, and think about it in the aftermath. There have been no wars on the mainland of America in the lifetime of anyone I’ve known, but things are different in England. Although the exhibit was not just about impact of war on England, the rich examples and artifacts available particularly from the second World War drew you in, made you think about things at a different level than you might normally. Than I might normally. Excellent exhibit, and I highly recommend it.

Giuseppe Penone: Thoughts in the Roots at Serpentine Gallery. The Serpentine gallery is located in the Kensington gardens. The day we went was sunny and springlike and the walk over to the Serpentine gallery was peaceful. Every dog in London seemed to be out for a happy romp among colorful flowers.

It was the perfect precursor to the Penone exhibit focused on the relationship between humans and nature. There were cool installations of fabricated trees just outside the gallery which we enjoyed until the gallery opened. The exhibit inside the gallery was also awesome. I might be guilty of overusing the word peaceful, but that is what I felt while seeing Penone’s works. My favorite exhibit was in a room in which the installation included sections of encased laurel leaves from floor to ceiling. There were also fabricated tree stumps that were probably the main point of the exhibit and they were lovely, but the smell of the Laurel leaves and their appearance, well, it was amazing.

Shopping at Harrods’ food halls. No matter how long you’ve read this blog, never have you ever heard me talking about shopping in London other than at The Emirates. I hate shopping, hate to be in stores. In this case, I took a special trip over to Harrod’s because I’d long heard about the food halls and I was hoping for some Easter candy inspiration. (My husband was on a loftier and more diverse quest elsewhere to London Wetlands, the 24-hour Pianothon at Liverpool Street station, and Traces of Belsen exhibit at Wiener Holocaust Library. Maybe I can convince him to tell us about it here.) The Tube station is right next to Harrod’s and it took some strolling through the departments before I located the Food Halls at the back of the building. If I felt out of place among expensive purses, shoes, scarves, and impeccably-dressed sales people, I clearly was not the only one. Not one person I saw in the store probably had any business shopping there. Anyway, the Food Halls were a special-occasion exception. I visited the room with chocolate, the one with cheeses and meats, and the one with teas, jams, etc. Every thing was so beautiful it was an experience just to look. I ended up buying some chocolate and tea.

Cream beignets at Fortitude Bakehouse. My niece long ago found out about Fortitude bakehouse online and every time for the past year it’s been on my list to get there. This is a bakery that has a famous cream beignet. I understand that people line up for them for hours. They are ready at 11 a.m. and are available until they sell out each day. But somehow I’ve never managed to get there. I made a mental note on my way from Harrod’s that I had to change trains at the station closest to Fortitude, Russell Square. The bakery is only about a block away from the train station. It was my lucky day because I arrived at about 11:30 to find a bunch of people sitting outside the bakery gorging on cream beignets and other yummy- looking pastries. And only a few people in line ahead of me. It appears they make one flavor each day. On the day I was there it was was pistachio and rose, something like that. What I have to say about the hype about the beignets is that it is simply not enough. Flaky, fried dough dipped in granulated sugar, split and coated with jam, then filled with thick, delicious whipped cream, and glazed on top, in this case with pistachio glaze and nuts. One cream beignet was all I could manage for lunch that day. That, and enough tea to wash it down. It occurs to me that I wrote significantly more about cream beignets than about any other activity. This is not an error.

Dear England at the National Theatre. We had intended to attend the play, Three Sisters at Shakespeare’s Globe, but on the day it was supposed to play we received a notice that they had to cancel that evening’s production. We scrambled and found a very different alternative, Dear England, written by James Graham. The play covers the foibles and fortunes (mainly misfortunes) of the real England national soccer team during England’s history and especially Gareth Southgate’s tenure as National Team manager. It’s named after an actual letter that Gareth Southgate wrote during the Covid era before England’s participation in the Euros, the tournament held for only European national teams. How to characterize the real letter? It’s a reflection on the importance of football to the English as well as sort of a plea to take it easy on the very real people who play for the team. The staging was wonderful, the play was interesting, and the characters both lovable and laughable. We thoroughly enjoyed it. The only nit was the poor football technique of the actors. But considering how much of the play focused on England’s misfortunes with penalty kicks, maybe that was intentional?

We went to the play on a beautiful warm night and were able to enjoy lovely scenes along the Thames on our walk back home to the One Tun.

A new hood & Fuller’s pub crawl

Amy OLeave a comment

After so many recent stays in Tower Hill, we were ready for a fresh, new place we’d never been. So for this trip, my husband selected a boutique hotel called Ruby Lucy in Lambeth. Lambeth is a neighborhood south of the Thames. It’s situated close to the Waterloo train and underground station, kind of a cool, old station. The station was exceedingly busy at all times, droves of people standing in front of the entrance to the tracks, staring at the board on which their track was to be assigned.

Ruby Lucy was a quirky little hotel with a great lobby and fairly spacious rooms. Each floor has an open tea station just outside the elevators and a communal iron board. Our room had a comfy queen bed and one of those crazy showers that is open-glassed on two sides to the room. It had a curtain on the outside of the shower; i.e., if you’ve failed to plan before you start your shower, the person in the room gets the choice of whether to draw the curtains or not. Good to be well enough acquainted before the trip so the choice made by the person not in the shower creates no drama.

The hotel is located on Lower Marsh Street, which was a real find. Although we were quite close to the London Eye, Big Ben, the Houses of Parliament, the neighborhood had the feel of being very far from all of those things. Funky and a bit gritty, the street was closed to all but bike and foot traffic and, during the day, had a great little market with mostly street food. There were so many other food options available that we never partook of the street food, but it was extremely tempting. We went to a nice Thai restaurant, Sino Thai, for dinner on the day we arrived and enjoyed Cuban tapas at Cubano the next night. We had a yummy breakfast at Balance one morning.

One of the cooler things about the neighborhood was an attraction I’d never heard of before, Leake Street Arches. We had been walking down Lower Marsh Street waiting for our hotel room to be made up when I noticed a garden path leading to what looked like an underground tunnel. Inside was a broad arch covered with some of the coolest graffiti I’ve ever seen. According to the web site, “London’s largest legal graffiti wall.” An artist was working on some fresh art with a can of spray paint.

My husband, who you may recall was recovering from a concussion on our last visit and not drinking, was looking forward to visiting all the Fuller’s pubs we could. With three in the immediate neighborhood, we were able to make a good dent in his goal. His favorite beer is a Fuller’s product called London Pride. I bought some for him for Christmas at Binny’s but it’s just not the same as knowing that it is being drawn from a cask in the basement of the pub. Or so I’ve heard. The Fuller’s pubs in our neighborhood were nice but not quite the pub experience we wanted. One day we left our neighborhood for the highly rated The Harp in Covent garden. Great pub with a fun crowd AND the requisite London Pride. But no food, so after one round and a great conversation with some interesting folks, we crossed the street to visit The Admiralty, a place we’d eaten on one of our visits in December. Also a Fuller’s pub. 5 Fuller’s pubs in all; not bad for a trip with boots on the ground for three nights.

Concussed London

Amy OLeave a comment

Because of the concussion my husband experienced the day we left for London, he was pretty well drugged for much of the trip and somewhat limited in what he felt like doing. My work hours could have enabled us to have some morning fun, but that was often not a time when he was moving around. He is normally a much earlier riser than I, but on this trip I was often awake before he was. Many breakfasts alone in lovely cafes. Solitary walks along the Thames. This does not suck.

We were staying at the Apex City of London, which happened to be a place we had stayed in the distant past. I remembered really liking that hotel but couldn’t picture what it was like. Staying at the Apex Temple last month reminded me how much I liked the Apex City of London, so when it came into our price point–a relatively rare event over the past few years–we booked it. It is very nice. Apex Temple seems a bit more recently refreshed and I would say is nicer. But this hotel is also pretty and had everything we needed, including plenty of space in our room and a good, public space to work. Apex City of London is in the Tower Hill area. We’ve stayed in Tower Hill a lot and there are always favorite places in the neighborhood we want to re-visit. It requires a bit of effort to do new things. But, given conditions of the spousal noggin, on this trip we did more of letting the activities present themselves to us.

Furry fandom meet-up. On the day we arrived in London, Saturday, my husband went right to sleep after reaching our hotel. I went out to get coffee at a shop I’d never been to before just up the street, Carter’s cafe. I was sitting at a table with my back to the window when I noticed other people in the shop taking pictures of the window. I turned around to see what I later learned was a gathering of the Furry fandom. They were on their way over to the Trinity Square Gardens so I wandered over to watch them parading into the park.

Music concerts. The hotel is located just next to St. Olave church, as I mentioned in another post. Twice during the week they had lunchtime concerts, one a piano concert and the other a viola concert. My husband went to both and I went only to the viola recital. The church is a bit dreary outside, though with a lovely garden. Inside was very beautiful and, to my very untrained ear, had great acoustics for the music. The violist was Teresa Ferreira and she beautifully played a great selection of music from baroque to contemporary with interesting commentary between each piece. What do I know about music? Not much. But I enjoyed the concert very much.

Medieval Women at the British Library. We visited the The British Library a few years ago to see its excellent exhibit of famous books and documents, including the Magna Carta, original compositions from the Beatles, the Gutenberg Bible, and lots of other amazing treasures. During this visit, we went for a new exhibit, Medieval Women: In Their Own Words. This was a great exhibit culled from collections of books, documents, and artifacts and describing facets of life impacting Medieval women. Yes, the overall message was “life is not so good for us Medieval women, and when it becomes good, bad things happen” but it was a lot richer than that. There were bright spots where women could express themselves with poetry, song, writing, business, power, beauty. We loved the exhibit and recommend it highly.

A tour of All Hallows by-the-Tower. We’ve walked by and seen this old church dozens of times but it never occurred to us to visit until we happened upon the restaurant Byward Kitchen & Bar for breakfast one morning. To get into the restaurant you more or less enter the church hallway, and I think the restaurant might be owned by the church. The ambiance of the restaurant is awesome. So awesome I fully forgave it the good-enough-but-nothing-to-write-home-about food that was served.

After breakfast, we wandered into the All Hallows by-the-Tower church for a tour. It was amazing. The church itself is very old, parts of it older even than the Tower of London. It was repeatedly bombed during WWII and significantly rebuilt after that. There is an interesting area in the basement where remnants of melting lead from the roof flowed down the wall after the bombings. The church contains notable art and exhibits of artifacts. Most interesting to us was tiled floors that were found during a renovation that were clearly remaining from the Roman settlement in place from 40 – 410 A.D. The exhibit also included an interesting diorama of the Roman settlement in London.

A search for Roman era rivers. One day my husband and I were out walking and my husband showed me one of his public art finds from a prior day, Forgotten Streams, a piece by Cristina Iglesias. The piece depicts the ancient River Walbrook which historically started near modern day Shoreditch and emptied into the Thames but is now a sewer, according to the London Museum. It had been a boundary of the early Roman settlement. I couldn’t find a good vantage point to get a decent photo, but it was a pretty cool installation.

That prompted us, along with seeing the diorama and Roman tiled floors at All Hallows, to try to find two lost rivers, the River Walbrook and The Fleet. The Fleet starts near Hampstead Heath and ends at the Thames somewhere near Blackfriar’s station. We found the Walbrook with greater ease than the Fleet. In the end, we concluded that the Fleet might not be able to be seen due to construction on the Blackfriar bridge.

Some very amateur mudlarking. The tide was well out as we were walking along one day so we availed ourselves of some muddy stairs going down to the banks of the Thames to look at shells and other treasures piled up. After our attendance at the Mudlarking Exhibit last year I was curious to what extent it might be possible to recognize ancient objects. I found something that looked like an old pipe, similar to some we had seen at the exhibit, some broken dishes, and an interesting brick. Our finding was all catch-and-release not only because of the rules that govern mudlarking but, let’s face it, I had struggled enough before the trip to fit a week’s worth of clothing into a carry-on bag. I did not need to find room for a brick. Because the mudlarkers we met at the exhibit seemed to enjoy most of all the research into objects they found, I did a little research on the brick I found. According to the internet (yeah, I know, not really deep research), my brick was from a company that existed only for 30 years, and was at least 100 years old.

Helen Chadwick room at the Tate Modern. We arrived at the Tate Modern with limited time and mental capacity so we decided to take in a single room of the museum. The room we choose this time was the room devoted to British artist Helen Chadwick. Chadwick is known for her studies of the human body, early on mostly her own body, but later, on all the things that make a body a body. My favorite part of the exhibit was from her work in an IVF clinic and art she created with photos of fertilized eggs and dandelion seed heads.

And, of course, our week ended at the Arsenal vs. Aston Villa match. This was the only match that we had tickets for when we started our journey. Aston Villa has been tricky for us lately and this match proved no exception. I was seated next to a fun family that included a young boy whose favorite player was Bukayo Saka. His father showed me dozens of picture of the boy with members of the Arsenal team: Saka, Martin Odegaard, Leandro Trossard. On numerous occasions they had stopped by hotels that Arsenal stay at the night before matches and stalked them.

Arsenal played well and scored two goals, both by players who have been a bit short of goals lately, Gabriel Martinelli and Kai Havertz. But somehow Arsenal lost its footing and allowed two goals from Aston Villa. The second goal really knocked the stuffing out of the Arsenal fans and the family next to me went negative. The dad actually changed seats with the kid so he could mutter dark thoughts and feelings in my left ear. I don’t share this level of negativity, but I let him vent.

With the injuries so far this season, there were no great options on the bench to try and turn things around. Despite some excellent efforts from Arsenal (including a goal that was disallowed for a handball) and attempted late heroics, nothing good came of it and the match ended 2-2.

We saw three matches during the week and got all three possible results–a loss, a win, and a draw. Not an ideal week of results but, even limited by spousal concussion, I can’t complain about the week we had. It was awesome.