Tag Archive | United Kingdom

Examining Documents in the National Archives at Kew

Jul10

Friday, July 10, 2009
London

I left my house at 9. 30 this morning after breakfast and a shower to catch a multiplicity of buses that finally took me to Kew Green where I asked for directions and found The National Archives. These are housed in a splendid modern building that is beautifully designed around a large artificial lake filled with geese. This is the place I had wanted to reach a few days ago when I was caught in unspeakable traffic at Chiswick and turned back. This morning, it wasn’t too bad and within two hours, I was there.

I made the error of forgetting to take picture ID with me–I had meant to carry my driver’s license. But when I pleaded my case and told them that so many documents were being held for me, the manager relented and gave me a reader’s ticket valid for today. I was, therefore, able to start my research at 12. 30 and believe me, I have no idea where the hours passed from then on.
It was 5 pm and the library was closing when next I lifted my head up! I was assigned Seat 10A and my requested documents had been stashed in a locker that was also marked 10A. This place is the very personification of organization and efficiency and I am deeply impressed. I had allotted the last two weeks of my stay here to examine these documents and because this place is so far out of the way, I hoped to finish it in two trips. But I fear I might need a few more sittings.

At any rate, the material I am reading in the files from the middle of the last century of the UK High Commission in Delhi and the Commonwealth Relations Office at Downing Street is pure gold. I finally have my hands on the very documents I hoped would shed light on the top level, highly confidential discussions that went on regarding the repatriation of Anglo-Indians from India and Pakistan to the Commonwealth countries and the concerns that were voiced regarding their welfare and progress in their newly adopted environments. I am absolutely delighted at what I have unearthed and I am very much indebted to Alison Blunt of the University of London whose bibliographical work has set me on the road towards finding this information and, therefore, being able to analyse and interpret it in the light of what I know of the personal experiences of the Anglo-Indian immigrants who made England their home and who have shared their lives with me over the past one year.

I finished with three files but since I requested six, I will be returning tomorrow to pour over the rest of them. What fascinates me, apart from the material itself, is the old tissue paper on which these letters were typed, the several typewritten copies of each item in these files (British bureaucrats sure loved to have everything typed and filed in triplicate!–now we know where the Indian obsession with bureaucratic red tape oirginates!!), the various stages through which the drafts went on the road to the finalization of policy decisions, the actual handwriting of the individual officials who were involved in this process–in fountain pen, no less. There is not a ball point pen in sight! It is difficult to decipher their handwriting occasionally (though some have exquisite penmanship) and the endless bureaucratic notes and scribbles they have made while cross referencing earlier documents or files or policies.

It so reminds me of my days in the Reserve Bank of India where I had a short stint in the Personnel Policy Department where I went through loads of files that were exactly like these–files bound in white tape that had passed through the hands of half a dozen different men in half a dozen different offices and bore the thought processes and logic of them all, each one justifying his decision and arguing his stance. The ability of these men to draft letters, memos, referendum, etc. is so marvelous. Indeed, their linguistic skills are enviable and there is nothing but the Queen’s English evident in page after page. In their diction and choice of phrase, I am continually reminded of my Dad, a veteran banker himself, whose own drafting skills were stupendous and whose old-fashioned forms of expression continue to delight me today. I am hard pressed to find a single grammatical or stylistic error anywhere! What a magnificent gold mine of information that has turned out to be and I am so excited at my findings! Indeed, this is the sort of day for which every researcher waits…and after a year in this country, I have laid my hands on exactly the sort of documents that I hoped I’d be able to quote in the chapters that will form the body of my next book. I was so absorbed by my reading and my typing of the extracts I wanted to preserve that I took just ten minutes to eat a packed lunch that I had carried with me and then I was back at my assigned desk again.

Then, I was on the bus at 5 pm, falling asleep in the slowly moving traffic (what a good thing I was not driving!) and arriving home at exactly 7.00 pm when I sat down to eat a slice of cake. Next thing I knew, I was transcribing an interview I did with Malcolm a few days ago and with this done, I have only two more interviews to transcribe before I bring my research work entirely up to date. I sat to eat my dinner at 10.00 pm while watching extracts from a documentary on the Hampton Court Flower Show.

Tomorrow, I am headed back to Kew and the Archives but only after I have had a meeting with Rosie Llewellyn-Jones, an English scholar who lives in Wandsworth and who has published her work on the Anglo-Indian community. Our mutual friend Blair Williams of New Jersey made the cyber introduction and Rosie was more than pleased to meet me tomorrow. I intend to go directly from her place to Kew.

The last weeks of my stay here in the UK seem to be leaving me with almost no time for any fun activities so I am very pleased that I completed almost all the items on my To Do List very gradually over the last one year! Now that I am down to the wire, I cannot afford to scrimp on library time, so I have my nose very firmly to the grind.

Last Interviews with Anglo-Indians

Jul10

Thursday, July 9, 2009
London

No matter how much time I estimate it will take to arrive somewhere on the buses, it usually takes double! So, after breakfast and a shower, I left my flat at Farringdon at 8. 20 am for a meeting at 10 am at Norwood Junction to meet an Anglo-Indian couple from Surrey who had agreed to speak with me. Halfway through the bus ride, I realized that I had left their phone numbers behind–not that they had a mobile phone anyway…so I would not be able to contact them though I was running late.

Well, the bus route was probably one of the longest I have ever taken and when I did reach my destination (the Clock Tower) at Norwood Junction, they were nowhere to be seen. I had expected this, of course, as I did not think they would wait for longer than a half hour.

But since their ultimate destination was St. Chad’s Church in which a weekly Thursday Anglo-Indian Luncheon Meeting is held, that was where I headed and there they were! I was embarrassed at being so late, flustered, stressed and certainly not in the best frame of mind to do an interview–and that too with two people simultaneously. Also, I dislike the idea of meeting anyone at that meeting as the place is like a typical Indian ‘mela’. There are 150 to 200 people present in a church hall and the din is deafening! I find the atmosphere there deeply overwhelming and not conducive to any kind of academic activity–though it is great for socializing which is why they are there!

When I tried to get this couple to meet me some place else, they stubbornly refused–it was St. Chad’s or nowhere else! Though they are both retired, they are, like the loads of other elderly Anglo-Indians I had tried to meet–sooooooo busy they could not fit me anywhere on their calendars for over three months now!!! In my desperation to talk to them, I agreed to meet them at St. Chad’s. Bad idea from the get-g0. What with my tardiness, the unsuitability of the venue and the fact that they were in a hurry to return to their meeting, I did two of the most unsuccessful interviews I have ever done. But I guess, they swelled my numbers and I was looking for 50 people overall, so I am not entirely unhappy.

Having traveled all the way to this venue, I wish I could have said hello to a few of the Anglo-Indians who have been so kind and have given me so generously of their time such as the Ribeiros, Neville Johnston, Cecil Wilson, etc. but though I met Claire Jansen and exchanged a peck on the cheek with her and Ashley Jacob, I had to slink quietly out when the meeting began and did not manage to meet anyone else. Such a pity as I don’t think I will see any of them again and I have come to think of each of them as friends!

A bus ride then took me to West Croydon station where I was meeting another Anglo-Indian gentleman who arrived on the train from Surrey to speak to me. Owen Thorpe suggested lunch in the cafeteria at John Lewis but somewhere on the way there, he mentioned a dosa instead and I promptly told him that I would prefer the South Indian restaurant!

So off we went to eat vadas and dosas and a mango lassi (to which he treated me) and boy, was that fabulous! We chose a quiet corner and I ended up doing a superb interview at leisure (thank heavens he wasn’t in a hurry) and in silence, which allowed me to take notes freely and allowed him to take off and tell me about his life in India and the UK.

Owen is also a writer and has just published his memoir entitled Paper Boats in the Monsoon: Life in the Lost World of Anglo-India (Trafford, Canada). He presented me with an autographed copy of his book and was the last word in graciousness. For anyone interested in reading more about this book, here is Owen’s website: www.owenthorpe.co.uk

I was so glad that my very last interview in this country went off so well and was with someone who was eager to speak with me and freely give me of his time and memories. In fact, I felt a trifle sentimental as I scribbled everything he said as this was the very last time I would be asking the same questions! In total, I found 51 people who were willing to speak to me (across two generations) and I am very pleased indeed as this number will make my sample survey valid academically and allow me to create my own statistics.

At the end of our interview, being ever the gentleman he is, Owen escorted me to an Indian grocery store so I could buy some mangoes! I was looking for Alphonsos but I guess it is long past the season and I had to settle for some Pakistani ones which the salesman promised would be terrific!

Owen then dropped me to the bus stop and I promptly fell asleep during the long and very boring ride back home. I changed to the 63 at Elephant and Castle and was home by 5. 30. I took a short rest, then sat at my laptop and hammered out all three interviews as I transcribed my notes. I have now only three more interviews to transcribe–the ones I did in West Drayton and I hope to catch up in the next couple of days. With all these interviews in the bag and my data collection proceeding at the libraries and the archives, I shall be able to start analysis of it as soon as I return home to the States.

I ate a late, very late dinner (was so engrossed in my work that I did not stop until nearly 11 pm), mainly leftovers from my birthday dinner, then enjoyed a slice of Black Forest Cake and went to bed after reading some more Potter.

A Most Productive Birthday!

Jul8

Wednesday, July 8, 2009
London

So I awoke at 6. 30 am to the realization that it was my birthday! This is not the first time I have had a birthday in a foreign country while entirely on my own. Twenty-two years ago, I was in Oxford on July 8 and not a single soul knew that it was my birthday! This time round, my cell phone did not stop ringing and I was delighted to hear from Bombay, the USA, Canada and friends right here in London who called, sent me e-cards as well as conventional cards. It was great and I certainly did not feel alone. At 8. 30 am, Isobel arrived to get on with her secretarial work for Paul and she was the first person to wish me.

I had little time to dawdle, though, as I had made plans to have my bureau-desk transported to Acton today through Headley’s Humper. Llew’s friend had loaned me his car with a driver and he arrived at 11.00 am which left me a good hour to edit my Oxford lecture. With the help of some carpet fitters who are currently working in the building, we got the desk into the back seat of the car in three minutes flat and rather effortlessly at that.

We had horrendous traffic all the way to Acton. But when we did get there, at about 1. 30 pm, I had the most nightmarish experience you can imagine. I mean, it was surreal. That same desk that had taken two guys almost no time to put into the car took eight blokes and about twenty minutes to get out! Believe me, I almost fell down on my knees in prayer as they struggled and huffed and puffed and tried to get the thing out of the doors. We tried everything: we moved both the car seats forward, we pressed down on the seat cushions to make more room, they attempted just about every trick in the book–all to no avail. In desperation, I began praying and then just when I thought there was no possible way to get it out, someone came up with the bright idea of duplicating in reverse the manner in which it had been fitted in. And that finally did it! Voila! The desk slid out and I could breathe freely again. As I said, it was a nightmare!

The silver lining to this awful cloud was that the gentleman who assisted me in the office upstairs, one Sega, was marvelously cooperative and made my life very easy indeed as I obtained a receipt from him. We were on the road in about a half hour and in less than twenty minutes, we were in Central London again–this time the traffic spared us!

I was dropped at Waitrose at Brunswick Square as I wanted to buy a load of supplies for dinner. I had invited my former neighbors Tim and Barbara over for dinner and they were expected about 7. 30 pm. I had a bit of a lie-down before I started putting together my no-cook menu:

1. Mesclun Salad with Grapefruit, Croutons and Toasted Goat Cheese with Citrus Vinaigrette.
2. Summer Couscous with Lemon Vinaigrette, Preserved Lemons, Toasted Almonds, Parsley and Dried Cranberries.
3. Parma Ham with Peaches in a Mint Vinaigrette.
4. Corn and Tomato Salad with Bacon and Basil in a Balsamic Vinaigrette.

And for dessert: Waitrose’s Black Forest Gateau. Since it was my birthday, I guess there had to be a cake!

With Buck’s Fizz cooling in the fridge and a bottle of white wine, I put out a few roasted almonds and some Indonesian crisps, then stepped back to change and get dressed. I so enjoyed putting together this no-fuss meal. It was simplicity itself and such a great way to beat the summer heat.

My guests arrived promptly at half-seven (as they say here!). It was great to see them again. They came bearing a large box of Leonidas’ Belgian chocolates–top of the line goodies that I know Llew will enjoy sharing with me.

Needless to say, we had a lovely evening, as always. They did discover it was my birthday only when they saw the cards that I had received. Incredibly, it was almost 11.00 pm before we knew it and when they left, I spent the next half hour clearing and washing up and still continuing to receive email messages. wishing me for the year.

My fridge is now full of leftovers and I will try my best to finish it all up before I leave. With my desk on its way to the States, a great weight is off my mind. I have now to think of ways and means to shrink all my stuff into four suitcases–two will go with Llew, two with me! It is a daunting prospect but, hopefully, will all be accomplished.

I am more than grateful for what has been an extraordinary year for me! I feel profoundly blessed for everything that this year brought along with it; but, most of all, for the love of doting parents, an adoring husband, devoted brothers, a loving sister-in-law, the cutest niece and nephew, a caring daughter and loads of fond friends–including the newest ones that I have made here in London–the company of two of whom ensured that I was not alone on my special day though so far away!

Library Research, a Disastrous Bus Ride and ‘Pottering’ Around Leicester Square Premiere!

Jul7

Tuesday, July 7, 2009
London

I had intended to spend the entire day doing research at the libraries. But you know what they say about Man Proposing and God Disposing. It wasn’t as if I awoke late—nothing of the kind. In fact, I awoke at 6. 30 am, read another 40 pages of Potter, called my parents in Bombay, cooked myself some scrambled eggs with sausages and bacon (as I am trying to finish up all the food in my freezer in preparation for my departure at the end of the month), then showered and left my flat.

At the British Library:
I had expected to arrive at the British Library at 10 when it opened, but I got there about 10.30 and by the time I took possession of the documents that were held for me in the Asian Section (former India Office Library Collection), it was 10. 45 am.

One glance at a longish Anglo-Indian Memorandum of 1934 convinced me that I needed to photocopy the entire 32 pages of it. However, the cost was 88p per page and when I asked the assistant for help, he told me that he would see if the same document was available in Microfilm, in which case I could photocopy it myself at a cost of merely 20p a page—big improvement that! He then called for the item and informed me that it would take at least an hour before it was located and handed over to me.

This lent me the time to read a marvelous memoir by an Englishwoman named Elinor Tollinton who had spent most of her life in British India as the daughter of a former ICS man (A.R. Astbury) and later the wife of a British lawyer (Phil Tollinton). It was like turning the pages of The Jewel in the Crown all over again. She presented the memoir to the British Library in 1988, a little after the Raj Revival of the mid-1980s had brought tons of TV watching pleasure to Great Britain as it soaked in Imperial nostalgia—The Jewel in the Crown, the Far Pavilions, Gandhi, Heat and Dust—all these films had flooded the market at the time probably motivating people like Elinor to tell it as it really was; for she ends her memoir saying, “Recent films and sophisticated propaganda have introduced a picture which does not always accord with the facts. I know because I was there.”

The memoir, typewritten on very fine tissue-like paper is accompanied by an album of photographs that documents the construction of so many Public Works Projects in the undivided Punjab—bridges over the rivers, lodges and government bungalows in the Simla hills and the railroad lines and the new trains that were created to take Raj officials to the hills to escape the heat and dust of the plains in summer. It was not just the history buff in me that thrilled to these words but indeed the travel lover as well, for the memoir takes us through Germany before the war, Northern India at the time of the Raj–particularly Lyallpur (now in Pakistan) and Simla– Oxford where Elinor and her family moved after the Independence of India and Austria where they went on vacations.

It is a marvelous record of the adventures they encountered as they met with a gallery of personalities that fill the history books of the period: Gandhi, Nehru, Rajagopalacharia, Sir John Simon (of the Simon Commission) and Lord Wavel (last but one Viceroy of India). In-between Elinor talks about the epileptic fits that almost took the life of her son, Hugh, and her daughter Elizabeth’s refusal to answer to anything but her nickname, Buffy. At her school interview in London upon returning from India , when asked to spell her name, she said, B-U-F-F-Y, much to her mother’s acute embarrassment.

I had expected to find some information about the interaction of these British officials with Anglo-Indians but except for one small mention of their proficiency in running the Railways, there was nothing at all. Nevertheless, I did not consider it a waste of time and I was swept away into the Edwardian world with a vengeance—one of my favorite periods in history.

When, my document arrived, Chris, the assistant, showed me how to register to use the copy machine and how to photocopy from the microfilm reader. By 3. 30 pm, I was all done but I was starving as I hadn’t even taken a break for lunch having found my reading so absorbing. Back downstairs, it was pouring rain and I ate my quiche in the quadrangle under a large umbrella of the café outside called The Last Word. Then, I decided to wait a bit until the worst of the downpour had passed (as I had no umbrella) and when the fury of the shower had abated, I caught Bus 10 to Hammersmith and then changed to the 391 to Richmond.

A Disastrous Bus Ride:
I intended to travel next to the National Archives at Kew where several other documents were being held for me. This Archives are open on Tuesdays until 7 pm, which would leave me a good two to three hours to examine a few of them. That’s when my plans went completely awry. The bus took ages to arrive and when it did, two of them, infuriatingly, came together. And then the creeping and the crawling began. We were still at Oxford Street about 45 minutes later. By the time, I arrived at Hammersmith; it was already almost 6 pm. Still, I decided to push on and at least get to the Archives so that I could find out where exactly they are located and take the Tube there next time round.

Well, the 391 was even worse and by the time we reached Chiswick Road, it was past 7 pm. Yes, it had taken me three hours to get from King’s Cross to Chiswick!!! The Archives would have closed by then, so filled with irritation at myself for having chosen to take the bus, I got off at Gunnersburys Station intending to return home by Tube as I simply couldn’t stand the idea of doing the same bus journey in reverse!

Pottering Around Leicester Square:
Only instead of taking the Underground, I took the overground train! This meant that I had to get off at Willesden from where I transferred to the Bakerloo Line to get to Baker Street. At that point, I remembered that tonight was the World Premiere of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. Well, the premiere was at Leicester Square and while the hoopla had begun last night, I thought I should try to catch a glimpse of at least one star. Besides, attempting to see a premiere at Leicester Square is supposedly one of the free things you can do in London and just for hoots, I thought, why not???

So there I was at Leicester Square where I arrived at 8.00pm. Alas, I was 15 minutes too late for the stars of the film had already entered the two theaters that were simultaneously showing the film and had disappeared. There was a huge stage set up, however, and though most of the crowd had left to grab dinner, a few stragglers were hanging about it. No one was clear exactly what was likely to happen later in the evening but the rumor did the rounds that the stars were inside watching the film and would emerge 115 minutes later to climb the stage and humor their fans.

The stage set was covered with red and yellow flags that featured the Gryffyndor logo on it: a dragon spewing fire, while another crest featured two crowns. I did not have my camera with me and after standing in the midst of the excited crowds for a while, I heard an organizer announce that the film had started late and it would not be until 10 pm that the stars would come out of the theater!

Just when I began to feel as if I should get back home (it had, after all, been a long day), who should emerge from the theater but Mr. Pottymouth Himself–Gordon Ramsay of Hell’s Kitchen fame with his wife Tana and his two kids. They must have wanted to use the toilet or something for they left the movie half-way through it! At any rate, with the crowd giving him a rather lukewarm cheer, he ascended the stairs with his young family and disappeared on the other side.
I heard someone standing next to me say to her companion, “Who was that?” and her companion said, “Oh, he’s that famous TV cook but I can’t get his name!” My Dad always used to say: “Fame is the food that dead men eat…I have no stomach for such meat” quoting someone or the other! (It was actually Henry Austin Dobson, 1840-1921).

Well, then, that was my brush with fame. I did not feel motivated enough to wait until 10.00 pm and I turned right around, took two buses that got me back home after which I ate a rice and curry dinner while watching extracts on BBC One of the Michael Jackson Memorial Service in LA, checked and responded to my email and wrote this blog before getting to bed.

The new Harry Potter film opens on July 15, so perhaps I shall see it when I get back home to the States—this novel was my favorite of the lot and though I want to go back to Southport and watch all the films in sequence, I must say that I am sorely tempted to see this one right here and now!

Interviewing Anglo-Indians in West Drayton

Jul6

Monday, July 6, 2009
London

My day began at 6. 30 am when I resumed reading the last Harry Potter. Reached page 165 before I decided to spend some time reviewing my Oxford lecture. I was supposed to leave the flat at 10 am to catch the 10. 42 train from Paddington to get to West Drayton where I would be interviewing three Anglo-Indians who had agreed to chat with me.

After my breakfast and a shower, I drafted my lecture for about an hour and then it was time to leave. I took the Tube to Paddington, bought my ticket and got on the train as scheduled. Malcolm was awaiting my arrival at the station and since he picked me up in his car and drove me to this place, he made it so easy for me to get to my destination. I have to say that I have forgotten what a luxury it is to get around by car since I have been using public transport for almost a year now.

His friend Terry had just arrived as we pulled up to his driveway and, a little later, we were joined by Joe. The three of them, friends who go back a long way to their early youthful days back in India where they were classmates in the same school, have a wonderful camaraderie that is born by years of enjoying a tried and tested friendship.

I have to say that I found it much easier this time to interview three blokes at the same time. I seem to have perfected the method and organization that it takes to direct my questions from one to the other. I still find it disturbing when two of them start speaking to each other while I am talking to a third one as I simply cannot hear or concentrate on what the third is saying. Some people have the tendency to lose interest in the interview and start a conversation that has no bearing on the questions I wish to ask or the issues I wish to cover. That is why it is easiest for me to interview one person at a time. Anyway, for the most part, I managed to keep the conversation on track and I have to say that I received three very satisfying interviews by the time I was done.

We stopped half way through to enjoy the delicious lunch that Malcolm had prepared. He is a good chef and his parathas served with grilled chicken, dal and a potato sabzi were very tasty–good homey Indian food with no frills, but just wholesome and home made and very tasty. I have been touched repeatedly by the warmth and hospitality of these indivdiuals and the generosity they have exhibited as they have invited me to their homes and served me meals. It is great to see that they have not lost this aspect of their Anglo-Indian spirit, though I have to say that some served me nothing more than a cup of coffee despite my long distance to and from their homes.

Still, I know I will go back with wonderful memories in addition to the data I have collected. I took the train back (Malcolm dropped me back to West Drayton station) and I took the Number 15 bus back from Paddington. Once home at 6 pm, I transcribed the interview I had done in Oxford with Philip. By the time I was done proofreading and editing, it was 8. 30 pm. I stopped for dinner (quiche with sushi that I picked up from Simply Food) and then I sat to find bus directions to get to the National Archives at Kew tomorrow where I shall be spending most of the day reviewing documents; but this will be only after I have spent a couple of hours at the British Library looking again at the documents I examined a few days ago.

As the Month of July marches on, I find myself very busy but I am trying not to panic and hoping that I will be able to look at all the material I want to review before I leave at the end of the month.

Departure from Kent and Michael’s 60th Birthday Party

Jul5

Sunday, July 5 2009
Isle of Sheppey, Kent and London

It turned cool during the night and what a relief that was all around for the heat had indeed been rather oppressive. I awoke at 7.00 am after a very restful night and got washed and dressed and ate a bowl of Aldi’s muesli (only 2% fat, said Cherry, and, therefore, superior to Tesco’s Finest muesli) and milk and got dressed for the 9 am mass at their small shed-like church where Cherry and David are Eucharistic Ministers.

Mass with a Small Island Community:
The nice thing about the mass was that everyone seemed to know everyone else—it is a very small island community and I really did feel the sense of friendship and fellowship in the members of the congregation. Fr. Frank, the parish priest and the one for whom Cherry does part-time secretarial work, was a jolly good soul and he joked with me when he was introduced to me. I really did like him immediately. He has, what the local newspapers have described as a “scruffy” dog called Breeze and the dog follows him around so faithfully that he actually perches himself on the altar during the mass. I have to say that I am not sure I like that too much as I believe it to be rather disrespectful of the sanctity of the altar–but, of course, this is my personal opinion and the rest of the congregation does not seem to find it offensive.

The other thing I found very disturbing about the mass was the constant wailing of the kids whose parents did not have the courtesy to walk out of church with them even when the Gospel reading and the sermon were on. While I do not expect every church to have a Cry Room as we have in our parish at St. Thomas Aquinas in Fairfield, Connecticut, I do expect parents to be considerate of the congregation when their kids are badly-behaved. Of course, other than this, I found the mass very good and I particularly liked the sermon that Fr. Frank preached—which was thoughtful and humorous and very enlightening.

After Mass, we returned home for a little fresh fruit—I tasted the cherries and strawberries from Mount Ephraim Farm and a fresh nectarine, which was really sweet, and delicious and less than an hour later, we were rushing off to Sittingbourne station so that I could catch the 12.16 train and get back to London Victoria.

Off to Maida Vale for Michael’s Bash:
I intended to get straight to Maida Vale for the 60th birthday party of my new friend Michael. I arrived at Victoria in exactly one hour and found the bus stop opposite the Apollo Victoria Theater (where Wicked is still going strong). The bus (Number 16) came along in just a few minutes and off I went, arriving at Elgin Avenue in about a half hour. I found the Anderson’s beautiful ‘Garden Flat’ easily enough and by the time I reached there at 1. 50, there were already a few people including Sushil who had arrived exactly at 1. 30, he said, when the party began.

I had a really enjoyable afternoon and met some wonderful ladies—whom I dearly wish I had met earlier in my stay here in London, There was Anju and Chote and Natasha and with them I had a wonderful conversation. I also met Cecil and his partner Anne and a very nice young guy called Andrew who has promised to put me on to an Anglo-Indian MP whom he says lives just below him in Acton. I really do hope I will have a chance to meet him.

The ladies were funny and interesting and we discussed a number of things including Salman Rushdie’s novels, their varied backgrounds, the ways in which they are all connected, etc. It really was a lovely gathering and best of all, the food was superb. The seekh kebabs and the mince samosas were fabulous. I lost count of the number of small wine glasses of Pimm’s cocktails I drank and then when lunch was served, it was marvelous. That biryani is easily one of the best I have eaten and the raita was equally delicious. There was a brinjal curry and a very interesting salad with cherry tomatoes, corn, avocadoes and olives in a light mayo dressing. And for dessert, the most enormous birthday cake I have seen—a grand chocolate affair with chocolate mouse and profiteroles studded on the top served with glasses of bubbly. So very Yum!

Of course, we ate and then when I saw Sushil leaving, I thought it would be good to leave with him as that would give me a chance to catch up with him as I haven’t seen him since we traveled to Calais and back.

Watching Wimbledon Men’s Finals at Home with Jack:
So, we left at 5. 15 when the Wimbledon Men’s Single Finals were still on: people had been gathering around the TV sets to keep abreast of the match. I got home at 6. 00 pm after taking the Tube from Maida Vale station and found Jack at home in the Farringdon loft watching the last bits of the match on TV in the living room. I joined him, very grateful to see him at home and together we saw the match come to its conclusion. It was a record-breaking match as Roger Federer tried hard to break Pete Sampras’ record of 14 Grand Slam titles in his fight against Andy Roddick–and did!.

Indeed Pete Sampras was present as were such age old champions as Bjorn Borg and Rod Laver (Australia). God, that aged me somewhat as I watched those old names from my youth. I remember when Laver used to play tennis and certainly Bjorn Borg was the great heart throb of my generation! So, when Federer won, Jack was disappointed as he had been rooting for Roddick, but hey, Roddick did give Federer a run for his money and Federer is invincible as anyone would agree and I rather think that his defeat to Rafael Nadal last year was truly a fluke.
At any rate Jack and I watched the end of the ceremony, the prize distributing, the interviews with the champions, etc. before Jack left and I was able to turn to my unpacking as well as catching up with this blog and a few calls that I had to make as I was determined to talk to Chriselle to whom I haven’t spoken for nearly two weeks.

Then, it was time for me to take a shower, do my laundry and get ready for what promises to be a very busy week ahead with interviews scheduled tomorrow at West Drayton and another visit to the British Library.

Cherry Day at Mt. Ephraim Gardens and a Musical Treat

Jul5

Saturday, July 4, 2009
Isle of Sheppey, Kent

We had decided to take it easy on Saturday as Cherry had gone through a grueling week and wanted a more relaxed weekend. As if there was any chance that would happen! David volunteered to make me a full English breakfast and I enjoyed it with scrambled eggs and sausages and toast with butter and coffee and apple juice. Yes, it was one of the largest breakfasts I have had in recent times and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

One of the joys of being in Kent with my cousin and her husband was the ability to get close to their cats, Morgy and Button–another first for me. Not being a cat lover myself (unlike Chriselle), I have a hard time even if they are in my vicinity. But these cats are the most unique specimens you will ever see. I always say that in a former life, they must have been dogs! They are friendly, very friendly, love to be cuddled and hugged and petted. They are non-agressive and silent (you will rarely hear them miaow though they purr unendingly). It is not just unusual, it is unheard of to let me have cats anywhere on my body, yet I was more than content to have these, especially Morgy, huddle close by, climb on my lap, settle down and lie against my arm like a baby! When I opened the door of my room, she ran right inside, parked herself on my bed and fell fast asleep–something she is not usually allowed to do!

Then, it was time for us to get dressed and leave for the outing they had planned for me: A Visit to Mount Ephraim Gardens in Fernhill near Faversham. I was excited to get to another garden again—though I have to say that I would have been pleased to drive anywhere through the Kentish countryside as the benign green landscape is particularly soothing and serene this time of the year.

In less than an hour, we were driving through Faversham. We arrived there through narrow country lanes past fields and orchards that were full of ripening fruit. It was truly delightful. Kent is called The Garden of England and it is easy to see why—there are oast houses used to dry the famous hops, and loads of stoned fruit—cherries, peaches, plums, nectarines.

Cherry Day at Mount Ephraim Gardens:
And then we were turning into the driveway of Mount Ephraim Gardens where the Dawes family of Kent have lived for over 300 years. On their vast landholding (over a thousand acres of it, much of which is farmed so that the land is fully fruitful), they have created beautiful gardens, a tearoom (which was used by a bridal party while we were there) and abundant orchards. It happened to be Cherry Day at Mount Ephraim which meant that cherries were being sold by the punnet together with strawberries, apple juice and free range pork sausages that were barbecued and served in rolls with onions and onion relish and mustard.

Well, we set off immediately to explore the gardens. They are nowhere as stunning as the ones I have spent the past few weeks seeing, but they are significant. Entry fee was 5. 50 pounds, which David paid for me. We strolled through the lovely Japanese Gardens with its lovely extensive water feature that seemed to follow us all around the rolling meadowland. The Rose Terrace was not nearly as nice as the ones I have been seeing in other spots, but the perennial border right by the tea room was certainly worth photographing.

After we had spent more than an hour in the garden, Cherry suggested a stop at the Café to get a bite to eat and we settled out of the sun on garden chairs with a pretty table. Alas, because it was Cherry Day, there was a special menu and since none of it appealed to Cheryl or David, we decided to get a drink (I had a very welcome lemonade) before we set out to buy our pork sausage hot dogs. These, at 2. 50 pounds each, were a treat and I stood us all lunch. It was very enjoyable indeed to sit in the shade and eat our al fresco lunches and it was then that we were informed that a visit to the cherry orchard would be starting very quickly. Now none of us had ever been in a cherry orchard before (reminiscent of the title of Chekov’s famous play!) and we decided to wait for the van that would be leaving at 3 pm to take visitors to the trees.

The Enormous Joy of Stripping Fruit off Cherry Trees:
It was easily one of the most interesting things I have done this year and I have to say will count as one of the highlights of my stay in the UK. The cherry orchard was a ten minute ride from the main entrance. We passed by folds of Kentish countryside in which all manner of stoned fruit were planted. We even saw a pack of alpaca lambs in a field—I think the guide said that they were reared to keep away foxes, as foxes are afraid of alpacas!

And then we were in the ‘tunnels’ in the orchard under which the fruit is grown to keep off the rain (which causes the cherry fruit to split) and under light green netting which keeps off the birds. The microclimate created under the tunnels (which is warm and humid) aids in the growth of the fruit which swell up to an enormous size, increase their volume (I swear, gigantic cherries were hanging like bunches of grapes from the trees), pumps up the sugar content and enhances flavor. We received a short introductory lecture on the farming techniques used on this particular farm—he called it the fruitillation technique—and then it was time for us to sample the wares.

The cherries were at their summer best, just ripe for the picking. In fact, tomorrow, a group of Eastern European pickers will arrive to strip the tree of its precious output and we will see this God-given bounty in our farmer’s markets. We chose the darkest and largest specimens from the trees to sample (as instructed by the guide) and had ourselves a feast as we tried cherries with names like Cordia, Sunset Sweet, etc. They just burst upon our tongues, each a dynamo of sweet and juicy flavor that left us craving more. Indeed, they were so addictive that I simply did not want to stop and as we moved from one tunnel to the next, I had my fill of cherries for the season, I do believe.

Then, we were back on the mini-bus and arrived at the main entrance where Cherry and David purchased some fresh strawberries and cherries and two bottles of freshly pressed apple juice—which was absolutely yummy! But, we did not have the chance to linger too long as Cherry had to get home to put together her evening meal. Though she had done a great deal of it earlier, she was busy from the time we entered the house till the time we left. Just an hour and a half later, we left the house again, as they had more interesting plans for us for the evening: a musical performance at their local community theater.

Another Memorable Dinner at Home:
After another glass of wine, we sat down to Cherry’s delicious meal—she had made a giant Cornish pasty, which was filled with minced meat and encased in a potato and flour casing. It was cut into slices and served with a coleslaw that she made with red cabbage, white cabbage and two kinds of onions: red and white. With a mayonnaise dressing, spiced with English mustard and a few poppy seeds, it made a very tasty salad accompaniment. There wasn’t much time to enjoy dessert but Cherry had made an apple pie from scratch. Its crust had a rather interesting texture—more like a crisp biscuit than traditional American short crust pastry but it was very tasty indeed and we did enjoy it very much. I had a very thin sliver just to taste it as I was rather full after dinner and then we were off in the car again headed to the Sheerness town center to the community theater.

Broncos and Beehives at the Sheppey Community Theater:
There in the old-fashioned interior of a place that was once a church, we found our seats and settled down to enjoy a show entitled Broncos and Beehives featuring the Meyrick Minstrels (I presume that Meyrick is a place close by). This motley lot of singers that ranged in ages from pre-teen to mid-70 were a true delight in every respect and I found myself enjoying a really marvelous show. OK, so it wasn’t Broadway or West End quality, but it was charming from the Get Go. The first half featured Country and Western hits such as Johnny Cash’s I Walk the Line and ended with a staggering rendition of The Tennessee Waltz by probably the oldest member of the group—a wispy lady with a totally amazing voice.

During the intermission, we stepped into the café for a soft drink and I was introduced to Mary, a Maltese friend of Cherry, who was a real hoot. She was full of vigor and enthusiasm and we decided between the two of us to step up the applause, which was really lukewarm—not surprising, I suppose, when the audience was so thin. Still, we resolved to show more appreciation and make it vocal this time round.

The second half was just as good as the first and we came away from the show feeling superbly entertained during what had been a tremendously fun evening that included such hits as Sad Movies Always Make me Cry (rendered as a solo by a girl with another staggering voice) and Bye Bye Love, Bye Bye Happiness, not to mention that old Cliff Richard favorite Living Doll. Back in the car, we reached home in about twenty minutes and had a slice of apple pie before we called it a day.

I have to say that much as I enjoyed the day, I really did feel so sorry for Cherry who didn’t seem to have a moment’s rest and worked herself to the bone to give me a memorable weekend.

British Library Manuscripts and Arrival on Isle of Sheppey, Kent

Jul5

Friday, July 3, 2009:
London and Isle of Sheppey, Kent

It has turned frightfully warm and I am very grateful for the little table fan I bought way back in September last year which is keeping me cool through these boiling nights. I awoke at 7.00 am—never expected I’d be waking up so late in the summer—and went straight in for a shower. Then, ate my breakfast (cereal and milk) and remembered to shut the boiler off (as I will be away for the weekend).

Back in my room, I did my packing for my stay in Kent with my cousin Cheryl and her husband David who live on the Isle of Sheppey almost by the waterside in the small settlement of Minster. I remembered to take some gifts for them: dark chocolate covered ginger biscuits by Border and a box of Cadbury’s Roses as well as the Bottle of Buck’s Fizz that I am presenting to Mike for his birthday—I will be going to his birthday party on Sunday directly from Victoria Station on my return from Kent. I also had to pack my laptop as I was heading out the door to the British Library where I intended to spend the morning and part of the afternoon checking documents associated with Anglo-Indian settlement in Great Britain.

Checking Documents at the British Library:
When I was all set (my backpack got really heavy with my laptop and my camera and both chargers), I left my flat and took the 63 bus to the British Library. After I stashed my backpack in the lockers on the Lower Ground floor, I took my laptop upstairs together with the Bibliography that I had created. Upstairs in the Asian and African Studies Section, I met a very nice assistant named John who helped me access the manuscripts I wanted through the Advanced Search functions for this specialized catalogue is not available online and I wasn’t able to access it at home. The computer informed me that it would take 70 minutes before my material was ready to be released to me. This gave me time to take the bus back home and pick up my adaptor plug which I had left at home. Without it, my laptop and charger will be useless on the weekend in Kent where I intend to get some writing done.

So, an hour later, with my adaptor plug in my possession and my tube of Moov ointment which I was also silly to leave at home, I re-entered the British Library and went up to the Asia and African Section on the third floor, where I spent the next few hours looking at documents both on the microfilm machines (they tended to give me a huge headache) and then at the documents themselves. I had a particular kick reading the typewritten manuscript of an Anglo-Indian woman dating from 1926, which came with an accompanying album full of photographs from those glory days of the Edwardian Raj.

Unfortunately, I could not finish reading all of it before I had to leave to get to Victoria to catch my train to Sittingbourne, which was scheduled to leave at 4. 42 pm. I did make headway with two major documents, however, and was able to get some extracts from them on my PC. Then, after I had ensured that the rest of the documents would be held for me for the next three days (I intend to get back there on Monday to look at the rest), I was off. It had been a very fruitful and fulfilling morning at the British and I was glad I managed to get so much work done. If I am able to work steadily in this way for the next few days. I would have accomplished my documents checking at the British Library, which is also such an important part of my work and one of my chief reasons for being here in London.

Off to Kent by Train:
I took the No. 73 Bendy bus from opposite the British Library directly to Victoria and was there sooner than I expected. I bought my return ticket (22 pounds—rather more pricey than the National Express Bus which goes only as far as Gillingham) and spend a while at the station eating my Sainsbury’s pilaf lunch (which I had carried with me).

At 4. 30, I boarded my train and was at Sittingbourne at exactly 5.45 pm. David was supposed to pick me up from the station and he arrived in about 10 minutes and drove me off to his home at Minster (a journey of about twenty minutes). Cherry, my cousin, looking really exhausted from all the freelance invigilation work she had done all week, opened the door to welcome me and then went all out for the next 48 hours to give me a truly memorable time at their place.

Dinner at Cherry and David’s:
We spent much of the evening just catching up and sipping a glass of red wine and then enjoying the dinner Cherry had prepared for she is a very good and very adventurous chef. She rustled up a pullao, which she served with egg curry and fish and crab cakes—all very homely and very delicious. For dessert, she had taken the trouble to make me profiteroles, which she knows are one of my favorite desserts—well filled with fresh cream, topped with melted chocolate and served with chocolate sauce—just heavenly!

I retired for the evening at about 11. 00 pm as I was suddenly really tired and sleepy.

Last Walk in Chiswick and Wimbledon with Amy

Jul2

Thursday, July 2, 2009
Chiswick and Wimbledon

With my friend Amy in town, I resolved to complete the last walk in my book Frommer’s 24 Great Walks in London. Now were I planning to do it with anyone else, I might have abandoned the idea. But Amy is such a sport and perhaps the most uncomplaining person I know. The heat was gruelling and the humidity intense in this horrendous heat wave we’re going through –most unusual for the UK. I always used to say to my American students: “There is nothing more beautiful than a summer’s day in England” Well, I might have to re-think this because when I was a grad student here, I do not remember going through a single day in July or August without a light cardigan. I do not ever recall being able to wear shorts or a T-shirt (forget about a tank top). I really do finally believe that there is such a thing as global warming when I go through sweltering days like this in the UK because there were simply non-existent twenty years ago.

A Riverside Walk in Chiswick:
Anyway…I took buses that got me to Richmond and I arrived at Stephanie’s place at 11. 30 am. Amy was waiting for me in the skimpiest pair of shorts you ever did see! Good for her! If I had legs that good, boy, I’d be wearing a pair like that in a heartbeat! So, another bus ride later (the 190), we arrived at Stamford Brook Underground station from where our walk began. It was entitled “The Chilling Streets of Chiswick” and it took us directly to the Thames embankments which have different names along different stretches (Hammersmith Embankment, Chiswick Mall, Upper Mall, etc). A Mall in this context is not a shopping plaza but a corridor of sorts (like, I suppose, Pall Mall in London).

Lunch at the Black Lion Pub:
It was only a few blocks before we passed St. Peter’s Square with its Georgian homes adorned with giant eagles, lions, urns and stately Ionic columns and lovely garden (though the lawns look terribly dry and uninviting) and arrived at The Black Lion Pub where we were both ready for a meal. In the beer garden at the back, we settled down with a bottle of Bulmer’s Pear Cider (so welcome on this blistering day!) and found ourselves entertained by a waiter who kept abbreviating the word “Pleasure” to “plej” much to Amy’s amusement. In fact, she kept thanking him every two seconds just to hear him say “plej”–and she has decided that she will add this charming new coinage to her vocabulary!

Well, we ate delicious brie and cranberries on crostini with salad and a hearty ciabata sandwich made with goat cheese, sesame seeds and fig relish and they were gooooood! In fact, it was so marvelous to sit under the shade of those spreading trees munching our meal and catching up that I had half a mind to abandon our pursuit. But then I figured, I might as well tick one more item off my list and get it done.

Kelmscott House:
So, an hour later, off we went again,this time walking towards Hammersmith in error–we weren’t concentrating on the directions (gabbing too much as we always tend to do) and were almost at Hammersmith Bridge before I realized we’d done something wrong. But, as often happens in London when you wander down an unintentional path, you arrive at some place astonishing and we arrived at Kelmscott House, London home of William Morris and the base of the William Morris Society!!!

Now this probably was meant to be as I had been so keen to see Kelmscott Manor in Oxfordshire but had abandoned that plan when I discovered how impossible it was to get there by public transport. So here I was in Morris’ London water-front home! The lovely lady who acted as guide invited us inside and we saw some of his original designs on the wall (for what later became his famous tapestries) as well as his printing press (he founded one with his other Pre-Raphaelite pals at Exeter College, Oxford, Dante Gabriel Rossetti and Edward Burne-Jones and named it the Kelmscott Press). There was loads of photographs and the original rush-seated chairs that once belonged to him in the house. Well, after spending a few minutes chatting to the lady, she suggested we walk further down river and arrive at No. 7 Hammersmith Terrace, home of Emery Walker with whom Morris was very close and whose home has been retained as a receptacle of the philosophy and ethos of the Arts and Crafts Movement.

Mansions and Gardens of the Thames and St. Nicholas Church:
Off we went passing by the most beautiful mansions and gardens fronting the Thames until we did find No. 7–only to discover that it could be toured in small private groups with a guide at a cost of 10 pounds each. Well, we did not wish to be dissuaded from our goal, so we continued until we arrived at medieval St. Nicholas Church whose squat square blue clock tower easily proclaimed its age. It is in this churchyard that the railed Georgian tomb of the painter William Hogarth might be found. We reverentially encircled it and then walked around the church hoping to get in–only to find it closed.

Chiswick House:
On we went to Burlington Lane, then crossed the busy roundabout by the subway to arrive at the vast grounds of Chiswick House–only to find it closed for renovation as was also Hogarth’s House next door. So in terms of getting into a house on both occasions, we were thwarted in our plans, but we did enjoy the cool and shady grounds of Chiswick House. The heat called for another drink and we, therefore, made our way to The George and Devonshire Pub and walked just past it to what might be London’s smallest square (Chiswick Square) which has buildings dating from the 15th century on three sides (one of which is called Boston House). It was very picturesque indeed.

Arrival at Wimbledon:
Back at the bus stop, we made connections to get ourselves to Wimbledon where our friends Stephanie and Wendy had tickets for the game and where we’d made plans with them to have dinner. The bus rides gave Amy and me a chance to see the Thames-sides hamlet of Putney as we rode right through it, talking nineteen to the dozen!

At Wimbledon Station, we got off and began exploring the area. The station was crowded with office commuters returning home and getting away from the frenzy of the tennis tournaments. I wanted to be a part of that frenzy so off we went into another bus that took us past pretty Wimbledon Village to the tennis courts. We had to descend down Wimbledon Hill past the gorgeous homes and gardens of the area which Stephanie informed me is one of the most expensive zip codes in the city.

The Excitement of the Tennis Tournaments:
The crowds and excitement began long before we reached the courts themselves. People were already starting to leave though a match between James Blake and a Russian was on in Court Two. Now James Blake is my ‘homie’ as he is a product of Fairfield, Connecticut, and we consider him our ‘home boy’. Llew and I had watched him at the US Open Tennis Matches, a couple of years ago, on Center Court, when he had made his return to professional tennis for the first time after his long bout with shingles.

Amy and I were unable to get in, of course, as we did not have tickets, but we did get a wonderful sense of the fun and vibrancy of the matches, the excitement of the crowds, their sense of competition and fun as we walked by the gates and the walls and the Wimbledon Lawn Tennis Museum. It is possible to take a guided tour of the site and perhaps I shall do that when Llew gets here, but for the moment, we were happy to enter into conversation with a Nigerian security guard who was heading off for the beginning of his night shift and was so delighted that Amy was an American that he wanted to “swallow” her because he loved the country so much–though he has never been able to get a visa to enter it!

Drinks and Dinner at the Fox and Dog Gastro Pub:
Well, when we’d taken a few pictures and imbibed the spirit of Wimbledon tennis, we climbed up the hill again, took another bus to Wimbledon Village and arrived at the Fox and Dog Pub where Stephanie had made a dinner reservation for us for 8. 30 pm. Amy and I lingered in a few retro and vintage stores ( as this is a passion we share) and then found our way to the pub where we settled down gratefully with another bottle of Bulmer’s Pear cider.

About half an hour later, Steph joined us with her Australian date Chris and another friend Wendy and we made our way to our table where we had a really delicious dinner–Amy and I split Fish and Chips and a Butternut Squash Linguine with goat’s cheese and toasted pine nuts that was rich and heavy but delicious. More Pear Cider did the rounds as we all chatted with Chris whom we were meeting or the first time and then it was time for me to take the Tube and get back home after what had been a terrific day with my pals.

I was so pleased that Amy had squeezed in two days with me in London (work commitments in New York had prevented her from staying longer) which allowed us to catch up and discover parts of the city that we had never seen before.

It was about 11. 30 am when I went to bed and resolved to spend the next few days doing some serious work as I really need to get to the library as well as continue drafting my lecture.

Amy in London! Climbing the Monument and a Superb Steak Dinner

Jul1

Wednesday, July 1, 2009
London

I awoke at 7.00 am, typed my blog and sent out my June newsletter and Oxford Travelog when I heard a sound in the loft and realized that Paul’s secretary, Isobel, had arrived. When I wanted to take a shower, I realized that I had not turned the boiler on when I got in last night, so I did that and started to order material from the British Library from the online catalog as well as material from the National Archives at Kew in Richmond as I have earmarked the last couple of weeks to review a few official documents. Having done all that, I awaited Amy’s arrival while reviewing my proposed Oxford lecture.

At 12. 45, my dear friend Amy arrived from New York, having taken the Tube to Farringdon from Heathrow. We had a joyous reunion. I had last seen her in Fairfield, Connecticut, in December when I had visited my family back in the States. She had organized an evening out–dinner in an Indian restaurant called Bangalore–with a few of our friends…and we’d had a superb evening. It was so great to see her again. She is an intrepid traveler too and has been my travel companion on the road in India, in London and in Italy and it was she who introduced me to Stephanie with whom she has traveled to South America. In fact, she is here, passing through London to push off with Stephanie and a bunch of friends for a sailing holiday in Croatia.

After she had rested and I served her an Indian lunch (pullao and curry with a salad), she and I left my flat and I gave her a little walking tour of my neighborhood: St. John’s Gate and Museum, the Smithfield Meat Market, the Church of St. Bartholomew the Great, St. Bart’s Hospital and Museum (and the Hogarth Staircase) and the Church of St. Bartholomew the Less. Then, we walked along Hatton Garden’s Diamond District and the Leather Lane Street market to my former building on High Holborn where I had the chance to chat for a few minutes with my former concierge, Arben. It was great to be back there and I received a warm and very sincere welcome from him.

Climbing the Monument:
Then, having equipped ourselves with bus passes, we took the Number 8 bus to London Bridge with the idea of climbing the 311 steps of the Monument which has recently been refurbished and looks sparkling clean and spanking new. Amy and I had together climbed the 5o0 odd steps to Brunneleschi’s Dome in Florence during our travels in Italy last March (2008) and I figured that she would make the best companion for climbing the steps of the Monument as this is also on my list of things to do before I leave for the States.

Well, as luck would have it, we could not have picked a nicer day for this project: the sky was a clear, cloudless blue and visibility was astounding. The monument, itself, completely re gilded glows in all its glory. At its summit, is a large gilded vase with a bunch of flames symbolizing the Great Fire of London of 1666 which destroyed 13,000 acres of the city. Christopher Wren was assigned the task of designing a Monument to mark this catastrophe and he came up with the idea of erecting a tower that was exactly 202 feet tall because exactly 2o2 feet away on Pudding Lane was the Bakehouse where the fire is said to have originated.

From the summit, we could see past Canary Wharf and on to Greenwich. Tower Bridge was gorgeous in the bright sunshine as was the dome of St. Paul’s on one side and on the other, the tip of the Gherkin. It was slightly scary at the top as the area is rather cramped. You walk along a balcony but the entire space is enclosed with a very wide grill through which you can fit a camera lens to take pictures.

On our return to the base and as we were leaving, we were each handed a certificate that stated that we had climbed the 311 steps of the Monument–a lovely souvenir to take home with us! If, like me, you haven’t been on the London Eye, this very economical alternative at just 3 pounds per head makes a lot of sense. I was very glad I did it and that I had Amy’s wonderful company to accomplish this goal. We had spent a few days together, last year in London, and this day out only served to remind us of the good times we’d had then.

On to the Serpentine:
Then we got on to a bus to get to Hyde Park as I thought that the blisteringly hot summer’s day simply cried for a day out on the water. Amy seconded the idea enthusiastically and I thought it would be great to rent a pedal boat for a half hour. However, the bus ride took ages–it just creeped and crawled along in peak hour rush–and we only arrived at Hyde Park at 6. 45 and they had stopped renting out the boats at 6. 30 pm. Well, perhaps this is something I shall do when Llew gets here.

A Super Juicy Steak Dinner:
So this time we took the Tube back to Farringdon from Marble Arch–which was way faster! Our idea was to go out for a nice dinner together before Amy picked up her baggage from my place and took the Tube to Richmond as she was spending the night with our mutual friend Stephanie. I chose 26 Smithfield’s, a steak restaurant opposite the Smithfield Market, which is renowned for its steaks. We ordered bread with oil and vinegar as a starter and split a bottle of pear cider which was cold and very refreshing and very delicious. Our main course was steak fillets–Amy chose a red wine sauce, I chose a peppercorn sauce and our steaks were to die for! I mean they were seriously good–unbelievably tender and succulent and the mash that accompanied the meat was equally creamy and tasty. As always, we did justice to our meal and found no room for dessert.

Amy did not stay long after our meal as she had a long way to go on the Tube. I said goodbye to her and we have made plans to meet tomorrow in Richmond as we intend to take the walk in Chiswick.

It was just wonderful to see my dear friend Amy again and I look forward to another day tomorrow of hanging with my friends before I get down to serious work in the library again.