Easter Sunday, April 12, 2009
London
It was an Easter with a difference for both of us! How delighted I was to have my dear Llew here with me in London during this Holy Week and to have him share Easter Sunday with me was a treat indeed. Of course, we both missed Chrissie as well as my family in Bombay whom we called first thing in the morning where they were all assembled at my brother Roger’s house in Bandra for Easter lunch. Because Llew wanted to attend a Catholic mass on Easter Sunday, I went online to look for mass timings at Westminster Cathedral and at the Brompton Oratory–two truly magnificent London churches as our closest Catholic church, St. Etheldreda’s, tends to be rather empty since Holborn is not so much a residential area as it is a commercial one.
Latin High Mass at the Brompton Oratory:
After breakfasting on cereal and croissants and showering, we left our flat and took the Tube to South Kensington and caught the 11 am mass at the Brompton Oratory which was packed to the rafters with people dressed to kill in expensive Hermes scarves and cultured pearl jewelry. It was with the greatest difficulty that Llew and I managed to shove ourselves into the church where we found a seat each in two different rows one behind the other! Still, we were grateful as so many people stood throughout the long traditional Latin Mass that went on for a whole hour and a half. The singing was superb and the responses from the congregation–all in sung Latin, mind you–truly impressed us. The priest made the announcement that refreshments and coffee would be available in the church hall and we deicded to go there for a slice of cake as our big meal of the day was not until 5 pm.
A Royal Sighting!
It was while we were making our way to the Hall for coffee that we had an unexpected royal sighting. A beautiful black Bentley had drawn up and two priests suddenly seemed very keen on going forward to meet its occupants who were leaving the church and making their way to the car. It took me only a second to recognize Prince Michael of Kent who happens to be the first cousin of both Queen Elizabeth and the Duke of Edinburgh–his beard makes him pretty distinctive. I have grown up seeing his photographs for years at every single royal do and I nudged Llew hard and whispered to him, “This is Prince Michael of Kent. He is the first cousin of the Queen”. I did not recognize his wife, but I recalled somewhere from deep in the recesses of my memory that the Princess is a Catholic which explained their presence at our Catholic service. Later I discovered from the Web that she is a Viennese aristocrat from a Catholic family in Austria.
She was very elegantly dressed indeed in a sand colored suit with a splendid hat which sported two pheasant feathers. Standing right by her was a very attractive young lady who looked slightly embarassed by all the fuss–undoubtedly their daughter, Lady Gabriella–whom I later discovered, also from the Net, is a graduate of Brown University in Providence, Rhode Island. At any rate, there was much bowing and scraping in front of this royal family and I actually saw a lady from the congregation courtesy in front of the Princess and then go forward to plant a peck on her cheek. Prince Michael of Kent nodded smilingly at Llew and me just before he entered the Bentley and Llew noticed the royal crest on the license plate of the car. Indeed, it was quite an interesting if very unexpected encounter for us and quite made our Easter Sunday.
Llew told me later over coffee that he thoroughly enjoyed the Latin High Mass and was very pleased that we had decided to come as far away as the Brompton Oratory on this special Sunday. He was especially impressed by the fact that so many members of the congregation were able to join heartily in the singing, young and old alike, and that they carried the old-fashioned Missals that he remembered from his old growing years in Sunday school.
Stepping back into history at Dennis Severs House:
Then, we were on the Tube again heading for the East End where I had decided that we would visit one of London’s most unusual museums–Dennis Severs House at 18 Folgate Street in Spitalfields. We arrived there about 2 pm. and paid the 8 pounds (a piece) entry fee that took us inside. We were instructed to keep perfectly silent in the house, not to touch anything and not to take any pictures. We were explained the fact that the house is set up in such a way as to suggest that we are entering the domain of a Mr. Issac Jervis, a wealthy Hugenot silk weaver around the year 1724. As we climbed higher up the four storeys, the time period got closer to our age until at the very top floor, we were in the early 1800s at the time of the sudden accession to the throne of Queen Victoria.
It is not merely the fact that the house is crammed with the most marvelous antiques that caught our imagination but the fact that we are part of a drama in which it appears as if the family that lived in the rooms vacated them as soon as we entered. Thus, a half eaten slice of buttered bread, a bitten pear, a nearly empty cup of tea are some of the props that make up the unusual ambience of this home. The experience is not merely a visual delight but a completely sensual one as sounds, and even smells, permeate the environment from the clanging of the nearby bells of Christ Church, Spitalfields, to the booming of the cannons that announced the arrival of Queen Victoria to the throne. In the bedrooms, we smelled cinnamon potpourii, in the kitchen, the fire in the grate warmed the entire room as well as our fingers and in the upper floors where cobwebs hung about the poverty-stricken hovels of the tenants who were barely able to keep body and soul together, there was a dank mustiness that was most unpleasant. At one stage, we became part of an 18th century painting by Hogarth as we encircled a table that had just witnessed a drunken brawl.
Dennis Severs was an American artist who was so fascinated by the history of the East End and the determined efforts made by London to retain the dated atmosphere of the area through the protection of the exterior of its buildings that he decided to buy one of the silk weaver’s homes and decorate it so authentically that a visitor might be able to have the sort of out-of-body experience that is only possible when one transports oneself compeletely into a long ago world and blends into it. Hence, his concept of the wholistic antiquated experience which has resulted in this unusual phenomenon. What was incredible was the fact that he lived in this manner in this very house during his own life in London and wanted to perpetuate the experience long after he passed away.
Needless to say, both Llew and I were utterly transfixed by this visit and it was easily the best 8 pounds we have spent in a long while. I was so glad that I had Llew with whom to share this experience. I fully appreciated the insistence upon silence in the house because I have found through my solitary travels in so many countries that the best, most meaningful, experiences for me have been the ones that I have enjoyed alone and without the interruption of conversation with a companion, as, often, the act of talking causes the mind to lose focus and become distracted by extraneous details that have no direct bearings upon the item or scene being investigated. Still, I was pleased to have had Llew to talk with after we had both gone through this completely unique house.
Foray into Brick Lane:
Then, since we were so close to it and Llew was keen to visit it, we walked to Brick Lane, made famous by Monica Ali’s novel of the same name which both Llew and I had read a long time ago. Of course, we found it to be unfamiliar to us in many ways for it neither reminded me of India (in which I grew up) nor of Pakistan (in which Llew grew up) but being a part of London that has been colonized by Bangladeshi immigrants, it has a distinctly Bengali ambience to it. After we had perused some of the sweetmeat shops, we walked back to Liverpool Street station for the next part of our rather adventurous day–our Easter dinner.
Dinner at Rules Restaurant–London’s Oldest:
I had tried to make a reservtion at Rules restaurant only this morning and discovered that a 5 pm sitting was all that was available. I decided to go for it as it would be the sort of late lunch early dinner that we usually have when we celebrate Christmas or Easter at home. We arrived at Maiden Lane just behind Covent Garden exactly at 5pm and were very warmly and cordially welcomed by the maitre d’ hote who led us to a cozy table for two in a corner.
I had first heard about Rules on one of the London walks that I took several weeks ago and had decided right away that this was the sort of restaurant I wanted to eat a dinner in when Llew got to London. it helped that the restaurant is London’s oldest, having been established in 1798. It has had its fair share of celebrity clientele from Edward VII who often frequented the place with his mistress Lillie Langtrey, Charles Dickens, Graham Greene and Sir John Betjeman, among several prominent others. The decor is so unique that you can spend an entire evening just gazing upon its walls that are covered with antlers of varing shape and size, playbills from a vast number of Covent Garden shows over the centuries, cartoons from contemporary magazines and newspapers and illustrations of theater personalities and journalists. The lighting is soft and very flattering indeed and the lampshades and dark wood-panelled walls made the entire place appear like the interior of a library on an English country estate. Needless to say, I adored every aspect of the place and Llew shared my enthusiasm for it as well.
We then got down to the serious business of ordering our dinner. We chose a jug of claret but decided to forego the starters as I really did want to have a dessert. A quick glance at the puddings told me that I would not be disappointed and right away I decided to go for the sticky toffee pudding with butterscotch sauce. But that would have to wait. For our main course, I decided to eat the daily special–farm duck served with garlic spinach, crispy bacon and a sauce of chestnuts and red wine. Llew chose rabbit with a wild mushroom casserole. Since we shared our dishes, I can say that each one was better than the other, the meat succulent and juicy and the sides quite superbly done and very tasty indeed. Service was impeccable and attentive and the entire set up was simply special. When it came time for dessert, Llew chose the chocolate souffle with chocolate ice cream and when our puddings arrived, there was a rather unexpected treat included–a tiny pastry nest filled with chocolate mousse in which two candy coated chocolate eggs were hiding. There was also a little wafer that said Easter on it–a very cute touch indeed. Overall, we had one of the most memorable meals we have eaten in London and I was very pleased that Llew enjoyed the meal as much as I did and that I had made the right choice in selecting Rules (so-called because it was founded by a man named Thomas Rule). At the end of the evening, a waiter very kindly escorted me to the top floor where I peeked into the Sir John Betjeman Room that seats 8 and the Graham Greene room that seats 18 as both these literary gentlemen loved this restaurant and ate here frequently.
Then, it was time to walk home–we were so full that we did not have coffee but elected to get some exercise instead. Covent Garden was abuzz with visitors and buskers and a singer who presented a plaintive version of JT’s Fire and Rain. In less than 15 mintues, we were home, making a few calls to the friends we have recently made in this city and to Chriselle and Chris who were just about beginning to start their own Easter lunches in the States. We did miss being together for Easter but we were glad that Chriselle was having a good time with Chris’s friends.
Llew then began the serious task of getting his suitcases packed up. I took over his large one and filled it with the stack of formal and winter clothes that I no longer need in London since the weather is now much milder. I have retained only a few cashmere cardigans in neutral colors and since I have only three more classes to teach before the semester ends, I sent back my formal woolen suit jackets. From now on, I shall be living mainly in casual clothes and I am looking forward to warmer days.
The evening passed swiftly as Llew prepared to make his exit from London and return to Connecticut. I will be sorry to see him go tomorrow, but I feel blessed that God allowed us to spend Easter together–an Easter with a difference, but one I know we were always remember as long as we live.