Wednesday, February 11. 2009
Rochester, Kent and London
I left my flat early–so did not have the chance today to do my Contrast Soaking or my exercises. Gulped down my breakfast–cereal and milk–had a shower and left at 7. 30 am for my ride to North Dulwich Station to meet Janie Yang, my friend who sportingly agreed to drive me to Rochester, Kent, to pick up the vintage weighing scale I had spotted a couple of weeks ago. I changed two buses but arrived at our appointed spot at 8. 35 am–we’d agreed to meet at 8.45 right after Janie dropped her son Sky off to school. It was a very frosty morning indeed and within ten minutes of waiting outdoors, my toes began to ache despite two pairs of socks.
Janie arrived at 8.50 am and we were off. It was so great to see her again. I haven’t seen her since October when we spent a day at Syon House with her Dad–who then, sadly, passed away a few weeks later. Between my travels to the US and India and her Dad’s passing and repeated trips to Yorkshire to help her mother deal with his loss, Janie has had her hands full. I was deeply grateful, therefore, that she set time aside today to help me run this errand.
We had rather hideous traffic getting out of South London, but once we hit the A2, we rolled along at a very brisk pace. Janie and I had so much to catch up with that there was never a second’s lull in our conversation. We arrived at Memories, the antiques’ stores on Rochester’s High Street at 10. 30 am and because I believed that Janie was in a hurry to get home, I thought we would load the car with my purchase and drive straight back home.
Except that the sun made a guest appearance just as we pulled up to the store and Janie was so enchanted by her very first glimpses of Rochester that she decided to park the car in the public parking lot and spend an hour or two exploring the town. I was thrilled, as it made me feel as if her drive had been worthwhile. She had never been to this historic Medway town of William the Norman Conqueror and Charles Dickens and when I told her that there was much to see, especially along the charming untouched High Street, she was sold on the idea of a little sightseeing.
Our first stop was at Restoration House which Stephanie and I had not seen on our last visit to Rochester a couple of weekends ago. The rain and the fact that everything was closed that Sunday had deterred us from going out in search of it. Coming upon it as suddenly as Janie and I did, within a few minutes walk off the High Street, was a lovely surprise. The House was built in 1570 and was called Restoration House because it is believed that Charles II spent one night in it the day he was restored to the throne of England in 1660 after the reign of the Puritans led by Oliver Cromwell.
This fabulous solid Tudor brick structure, designed in the form of a capital E so fascinated Dickens (who spent a great deal of time in Rochester and owned a home on nearby Gad’s Hill) that it became the model for what he called Satis House in his novel Great Expectations. This is the home that Pip is told to visit and where he meets the ill-fated Miss Haversham. Both Janie and I were so taken by this structure that we spent a great deal of time studying the architectural details. We were amazed to find that the house is now in private possession and is open to he public only on Thursdays and Fridays from June to September. Janie, who loves architecture, was deeply struck by the building and following her lead, I strolled into the churchyard that abuts the property. There, behind high walls, we got a sense of the grandeur of the gardens that lie concealed behind.
We returned to the High Street, and began walking down towards more antiques shops that were wide open today. They were closed on the Sunday that I had last visited. Janie also loved the solidity of the Cathedral and we decided to stop there for a coffee. In the Cathedral’s lovely little Tea Room with its bevy of ladies in navy blue aprons serving home-baked goodies, I ordered us two lattes, a peanut butter cookie for Janie and a soft-as-a-cloud cheese scone for me, while Janie went off to explore the Cathedral’s interior. I delight in her great joy in European period architecture. I learn so much in her company as she points out technical elements that I would ordinarily have missed. Her rambles had also taken her as far as the 11th century Norman castle and she caught a glimpse of it from the outside.
Back on the High Street after another long and very interesting conversation over our lattes, we popped our heads into a few other antiques stores. Janie was looking for a mirror that she could make the focal point of her living room but was unable to find anything substantial enough. Then, quite by chance, in the Oxfam store, I spotted a lovely Victorian tea set for two and because the decoration was so lavish (loads of gold all over and a beautiful hand painted design of pink and gold roses), I decided to find out how it was priced. Just thirty pounds, said the saleswoman, and before I knew it, I was leaving the store with a tea pot, sugar, creamer, one cup, two saucers and one small dessert plate. The set is missing a cup and a dessert plate and I have decided to make it my quest to find them on the internet through the Replacement China outfits that have been flourishing in recent years. Needless to say, I was delighted with my weighing scale which came complete with a set of weights and since all of it is in such good condition, I can easily see myself using these for many years to come.
With one last stop in an old-fashioned candy store where Janie bought some scrumptious lemon drops and I bought her a bar of Lindt coffee chocolate, we began our drive back to London. We crossed the Medway on the beautiful iron bridge–a fine example of Victorian engineering–and, before long, arrived in the city where Janie dropped me off at my bus stop just as we saw a bus sailing by.
Being the sweetheart she is, Janie decided to follow the bus route to a couple of stops ahead so that I could catch it and that was exactly what she did. Grabbing my bags out of the trunk of her car, I did manage to get the bus two stops ahead and arrived at my flat about an hour later. I decided to catch up with email and take some rest because I had another appointment in the evening. I called my parents in Bombay, caught up with them and then at 5 pm, I left the house for my next appointment.
I had made plans to meet Roger McNair, a second-generation Anglo-Indian in the UK at 6. 30 pm at Finchley Road Tube Station. The journey was long drawn out and involved the changing of two buses but I am never disappointed as I love to watch London pass me by and these drives take me into neighborhoods I would never otherwise have visited. I discovered, this evening, for instance, that Primrose Hill can be reached by bus from my place and since it is a neighborhood I have been keen to explore, I shall do so sometime soon.
I arrived at our appointed spot at 6. 40 pm and found Roger looking for me. At his suggestion, we went to the O2, a snazzy mall on Finchley Road where at a pub called Wetherspoons Roger bought me a half pint of sweet Strongbow draught cider and a pint of Fosters lager for himself. We found ourselves one of the quietest spots in the bar and began our conversation. Roger is a very soft spoken gentleman and oftentimes I found myself straining above the background noise to catch everything he said. He spoke freely and articulately and it was a pleasure to listen to his very thoughtful responses to my questions. Though born in India, Roger came with his parents to the UK when he was three and was raised for the first ten years of his life in London and then in Yorkshire. His story made fascinating listening and before we knew it, it was 8. 30 pm and time to get a bite to eat. The pub grub sent out appetizing aromas our way and I had thought we would eat right there; but Roger asked if I did not mind “going out for a curry”. I told him I was fine with whatever he chose to eat and in a little while, we were out on the main road looking for an Indian restaurant.
Of course, as everyone knows, in London, you can throw a stone and wherever it falls, you can be sure to find an Indian restaurant. So, it was at A Passage to India on Finchley Road that he chose a Chicken Kashmiri with Pulao while I went for a Chicken Saag with a Naan. I was amazed at the small portion sizes and realized that food, indeed eating out in general, is so much cheaper in the United States. However, the service was very good and both dishes were superbly cooked and Roger insisted on making it his treat. Roger told me that Indian is his favorite cuisine and if there is one thing that the Anglo-Indian diaspora has not abandoned in the United Kingdom it is their devotion to rice and curry!
And so the evening passed very companionably indeed. I truly enjoyed meeting and chatting with Roger and at the end of the evening , he invited me to a jazz concert on Friday. I would very much like to join him and his group of friends, but I have a walking tour of Spitalfields including Brick Lane scheduled with my students that evening and might have to take a rain check. Still, it was a treat getting to know him and I am sure that we will meet again as Roger is keen to meet other second-generation Anglo-Indians and I have promised to link him up with few.
I took the Tube back, a journey of no more than 25 minutes and was home, warmly ensconced in my bed and writing this blog before 11 pm at which point I decided to shut up shop for the night!