Friday, June 12, 2009
London
With only a few weeks left before I return Stateside, I am making, on the one hand, a rapid dent in my List of Things To-Do in London–but, on the other hand, I am adding new items daily! Wonder if I ever will be finished!
So, this morning, I set my alarm for 6. 15 and was out of the house by 6. 50 am to catch the 63 bus to Fleet Street from where I transferred to the 15 to get to Tower Hill from where I took the 42 to get to Bermondsey. If it sounds like a a hike, it really wasn’t. In fact, Bermondsey is far closer to the heart of the city than I had imagined. It is only because all guide books suggest that earnest shoppers get there at the crack of dawn that I waited until the summer to make this excursion. It seemed much too dark a place to wander into in the heart of winter or even in early spring and I am glad I waited–not only is it much brighter now (I am told that daylight arrives by 4 am, but, of course, in the past few weeks, I haven’t been waking till after 7am, so I wouldn’t know!) but the items to be considered for purchase can be so much better scrutinized when there is daylight to aid the search for flaws!
Browsing in Bermondsey:
So Bermondsey (which is now known as the Caledonian Market) is just beyond Tower Bridge on the South side of the Thames and was far smaller than I imagined it to be. There were about sixty dealers, if that, each occupying a tiny amount of space (like one horse cart). I arrived there at about 8 am when so few customers were in evidence. I guess the serious dealers finish their business by 5 am.
At any rate, I found the quality of the merchandise extremely disappointing. I have to say that I see far better stuff at American fairs and estate sales and tag (garage) sales. So much of the items on display were damaged or in poor condition and so much of it wasn’t antique at all. In fact, I saw loads of much more recent reproductions and so much junk that I wondered why I took the trouble to get there so early. Oh and the good stuff, if you were lucky enough to come upon any (and I saw some good 1920’s Bakelite jewelery) was priced so atrociously that I can’t imagine anyone buying anything. Despite the fact that the dollar is doing so much better now in relation to the pound, when I did the conversion, the prices were still far in excess of anything I would pay in the States for the same (maybe even better) stuff.
So, all I got was a tiny little Herend hand painted ring-dish (which was a steal at five pounds, since I know for a fact that a new item of the same kind would cost no less than fifty pounds and the design La Vielle Rose is no longer being produced by the Hungarian manufacturer). I also found a junky pair of ear-rings for a pound but then they were just tin that had been beautifully twisted to look like the handle of a spoon and I quite liked them.
Bermondsey must have been an antiques shopper’s paradise in its heyday but I have to say that it has been reduced to nothing today. So I was very disappointed but not sorry that I had make the trek and saw for myself the quality of the goods on sale. I know that I will never go there again.
I had quelled hunger pangs with a lovely bacon butty (the breakfast of the London working class, I am told–basically a crisp round roll–what the English call a bun–filled with fried bacon!) which was being sold from a wagon at the market and was pretty good. Then, I got back on the bus and tried to find my way home but at Tower Hill, I got hopelessly disoriented and caught a 15 going in the opposite direction. I was also daydreaming on the upper deck and it only when I saw that the population demographics had changed drastically and that everyone on the streets looked like they had just gotten off the boat from Bangladesh, that I realized that I was headed in the wrong direction!
So, I hoped off, caught a bus on the other side of the road and by the time I reached Fleet Street, I was literally drooping on my feet. For some odd reason, I was so drowsy that I felt as if I had taken some sleep-inducing medication. So I abandoned my more ambitious plans of going to the Freud Museum in Finchley which opened only after 12 noon and went straight back home instead.
When I got to my flat, I found that Minda, the house cleaning lady, had arrived and started her routine cleaning. She had, fortunately, already finished with my room and was in the process of cleaning my bathroom, when I checked my email. As soon as she finished with my bathroom, I curled up on my bed and in broad daylight, at 12 noon, I fell fast asleep, much to my own astonishment. I awoke about 45 minutes later, feeling deeply refreshed and decided to write my blog before stopping for lunch.
A Guided Tour of St. John’s Gate and Other Properties:
Lunch was a hurried affair–just some pasta and a salad and at 2. 25 pm, I left my flat to walk down St. John’s Street to get to St. John’s Gate. I have to say that my new route from Clerkenwell Road to my building takes me under this medieval gateway that I find simply thrilling. Naturally, I had to find out all about it, so when I made inquiries about how I could find out more about its history, I was told to join the guided tour that is offered thrice a week (on Tuesdays, Fridays and Saturdays at 11 am and 2. 30 pm). Well, today seemed as good a day as any other and since I simply lacked the enthusiasm to wander too far off, a historic archway just five minutes down my street would be a safe sight seeing bet, I thought. So off I went.
The tour was given by a staff member of what is currently called the Museum of St. John’s Gate. There was a total of five folks (including myself) taking the tour. I have to say that I have taken far better tours in my time. The quality of the commentary and the information contained in the tour was extremely disappointing. I guess I have become accustomed to the superb quality of the tours given at the Metropolitan Museum of Art and other world-famous museums which involve year-long training of the docent volunteers, etc. that anything short of perfection makes me feel rather cheated. There was no consciousness of time and the guide just rambled on with no attempt to offer information in a chronological manner (or indeed with any structure) at all. In fact, all the material was presented in a haphazard fashion and I often got the impression that she was seriously ill or drunk as she actually did seem alarmingly breathless on a couple of occasions.
The best part of the tour, however, and the only reason to take it is that it leads you to some incredibly hidden, tucked-away gems of the city of London that you would never gain access to unless accompanied by one of these staffers. These included the Church of the Priory of St. John (it dates from the 1500s and saw enemy bombing during World War II when its roof was destroyed and replaced). We actually entered this place of worship that is no longer used for regular Sunday services but only on special occasions and only by the privileged families of the Members of the Order of St. John. The Priory Church is on the opposite side of Clerkenwell Road (from the Gate side) and was once built in a circular fashion (like Temple Church in Middle Temple) off Fleet Street. It is very atmospheric indeed, hung with a number of colorful heraldic flags, each of which carries a white flag on a red background, which is symbolic of the Order of St. John.
The tour then took us into another hallowed area–the Crypt. This, being underground, was saved from the blitz and has remained intact from the 1100s when building first began under the Normans, though it continued into the 12th century. More modern-day stained glass windows (dating from the early 20th century) contrasted well with the effigies of knights that were brought back from the Cathedral of Valladolid in Spain (the choir screen of this Cathedral is in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York and is included on my Highlights Tours). The low barrel vaulted ceiling is an interesting feature of this subterranean church and I felt privileged to see it.
The tour then crossed the street again to take us back into the Museum attached to St. John’s Gate from where we were led upstairs to the secret rooms and chambers used by members of the Order of St. John today. I realize that a bit of explanation of this “Order” might be in order! So here goes:
The Knights of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem originated at the time of the first Crusade to offer comfort and rudimentary medical care to pilgrims en route to the Holy Land. The members were knights who actually took Holy Orders which included the vow of celibacy. Their primary responsibilities were the support and help of patients who were healed by the administration of herbal remedies (0ne of which, St. John’s Worth, is actually named for the order). So it was a religious order of ordained men who administered to the sick in the fashion of monks, in that they actually lived in a Priory.
In 1504, during the reign of the Tudor King, Henry VII, the current Gateway was built of Kentish stone on a red brick base–meaning that Kentish stone is only a facade as stone was not easily available and had to be carted from a long way. After the next monarch, Henry VIII, dissolved the Monastries and closed down the Priories (in 1588), the Order ceased to be a monastic one or indeed a religious one. It evolved into a medical order that provided succor for the sick and the injured and found a base in Malta where it became very influential. From this development came the St. John’s Ambulance Brigade with branches all around the world. The main function of this body is to provide emergency help and services to the sick and the suffering and their achievements are still recognized by the Order. Women are now accepted into the Order. I should add here that this Order has no connection whatsoever with the Knights Templar or with the Round Temple Church and that the Order of St. John is not and never has been a secret society in the Dan Brown vein!
The rooms that are the most fascinating are built into the Tower and Gateway that is known today as St. John’s Gate and this is the 0ne under which I pass on my way to and from my flat from Clerkenwell Road. It includes rooms built in the early 20th century by the son of George Gilbert Scott in imitation of the Tudor style. This means a huge vaulted ceiling with dark exposed beams, loads of stained glass windows bearing the heraldic crests of the various members, a richly carved throne-like seat that is still occupied by the Grand Prior at the monthly meetings of the Order, finely wrought oil portraits of the current Queen, her grand father, George V and in another room (the Chamber), portraits of Queen Victoria and her son Edward VII (under whose patronage these rooms were commissioned and created)–all of whom are members of the Order. Despite the fact that they are only a hundred years old, they are so finely furnished and maintained and with the sun streaming into them on this lovely brisk summer’s afternoon, they were truly a joy to peruse. The tour took over an hour and by the end of it, I felt tired again.
Transcribing Another Interview:
Though I had plans to do something else exciting for the rest of the evening, I decided to be good and go back home and get some work done.With five interviews waiting to be transcribed, I could not afford to waste any time–so there I sat at my PC transcribing the interview with Oscar that I did at Wembley yesterday. I also caught up with my blog and responded to email.
It was about 9 pm when I stopped for dinner (leftovers from our summery meal of last night) and decided to do a spot of laundry. Only I could not get the washing machine to work, so I ended up handwashing a number of garments and throwing them into the dryer, which, fortunately, I could get started!
With laundry done and another interview in the bag, I jumped into the shower and decided to call it an early night–which was 11. 30 pm!