Tuesday, April 23/2013

Shakespeare's birthday and the Feast of St George. Only in the year of volcanic ash were we here this late. And today it's spring - warm and flowery and alive - so off we go to Canada tomorrow, to the land of endless snow.

Monday, April 22/2013

Second visit to Autograf, the wonderful Polish restaurant in Tottenham. More perogies, cabbage rolls (this time with mushroom sauce - a good idea) and goulash. Probably the only people in the restaurant who ordered in English - although even with us there were a few words of Polish thrown in.

Sunday, April 21/2013

Meet Jean and Shanthi for lunch at a little cafeteria serving Malaysian students. To prevent its being swamped by tourists and non-Malaysian students, admission is accorded to those speaking a Malaysian language and their group. So Shanthi is our admission card. Interesting food, and quite a variety for such a small space. Jean says it reminds her of the food they ate when she was teaching in Singapore. So we have curries, brinjal, samosas, sweets, ginger tea. Very nice. London is such a rich place culturally.

Saturday, April 20/2013

Rubens Ceiling centre panel

Third time lucky - Banqueting House is open, as promised on website, finally prudently consulted. Very interesting. The execution spot of Charles I. We've often wondered at which window, and there is a bit of uncertainty, in part due to some rebuilding. Despite the name, the banqueting house was largely used as a reception place for foreign dignitaries, the Rubens ceiling intended to impress - and no doubt succeeding. Charles I was beheaded on a scaffold outside the window, and always makes me think of the line from Macbeth - nothing in his life became him like the leaving it (said of the previous Thane of Cawdor, not Macbeth). Charles prorogued parliament for years (sound familiar?) and insisted on the divine right of kings, but he died bravely, wearing a warm shirt lest his shivering be mistaken for fear. One can only imagine his children, aged nine and thirteen, being sent in the morning to say good-bye to him - horrific for both parties.

Friday, April 19/2013

Attempt number two at the Banqueting House. Closed again. But you said yesterday it would be open today. So it was - until one o'clock. Fortunately the National Gallery is nearby. Head toward a room that promises a Hogarth. It does have one not-particularly-interesting Hogarth. But also a great horse by Stubbs. It's prancing and magnificent and must have been quite hard to do, in that there would  have been no photographs at the time and no possibility of asking the horse to pose mid-prance. Contrast with a large painting by Van Dyke showing Charles I, easily recognisable from the next room, on a horse that is hideously disproportionate, and not, one assumes, for any symbolic reason. Maybe court painters just aren't willing to say that they don't do horses.

Thursday, April 18/2013

Serendipitous day. The plan was to go to the Banqueting House, scene of Charles I's execution. Should have googled first, of course. It is closed for some function. We'd planned to be indoors because heavy showers were expected, and as we walk down the Strand they arrive following great gusts of wind (also predicted and the reason we haven't bothered with umbrellas). Shelter for a bit in the doorway of a coffee shop and then hop a bus that's going a long way. Actually West Hampstead. By which time we've had a rethink and take the tube one stop over to our usual favourite spot - Kilburn High Road. Lots of browsing along the charity shops (rain stopped by now). We're thinking dinner when we remember that Roses has lamb kleftiko as its Thursday night special. That seals it. And happily so, because it's the best lamb kleftiko either of us has ever tasted - butter soft and folding back from the leg bone as it's done to total perfection. Better than we've ever had in Cyprus, and, we reflect, for less money that we could possibly buy the raw lamb in Canada. So happy postponement to the Banqueting House in favour of the banquet.

Wednesday, April 17/2013

It's sunny and much warmer. Men sitting smoking shishas along Queensway. We skip the crowds for Maggie Thatcher's funeral. The funeral itself is highly controversial. A state funeral in all but name, minus the lying in state. The cost is supposed to be £10 million. Which many regard as scandalous. Others are cynical about the opportunism in a grand Conservative funeral as the coalition is faltering along with the econmy and the IMF is highly critical of the Chancellor of the Exchequer (shown in tears aat the funeral, presumably engendered by  the occasion and not the IMF). There`s an interesting question of protocol regarding the assessment of greatness. Defined by policy, by longevity, by tenure as prime minister, by international activity? Any PM who served more than ten years? If Blair were to die accidentally would he be accorded the same sort of funeral? Of course Thatcher won her war and arguably didn't start it. And who decides? Not the House in this case, but a PM who happens to be from the same party. Yes, she was the first woman prime minister. Would the apply to a first black PM? A first disabled one? The only comparable funeral was Churchill's but Churchill was much less controversial and his government, happily, a wartime National Unity government.

Speculation: Invited guests, many of them elderly, had to be in St Paul's by ten for an eleven o'clock service. And to leave their homes or hotels much earlier. How many loos are there in St Paul's and how many in the congregation went without morning coffee?

We to the National Portrait Gallery in the afternoon. Another look at the portrait of Richard III, after rereading Josephine Tey's Daughter of Time when R's body was discovered and identified this year and then visiting York on Sunday. A painting of Elizabeth I that looks like a death mask attached to the top of an elaborate dress. Presumably the sitter only had to pose while the face was being painted and the rest could be added later. In this case the shoes peep out from under the hem at an angle that seems not quite right. Also view an interesting set of busts by Epstein.

Walk down Whitehall, where there's a protest on regarding a coming execution in India. Then tube and DLR to Greenwich for our semi-annual visit to Goddard's Pie Shop (same family since 1890). Can never hold both pie and crumble (eels also available) so we now go for crumble. Today's choice apple and black currant with massive amounts of custard.

Tuesday, April 16/2013

We're not up early but get to enjoy Jasmine (4) and Leila (nearly 2) after Giles drops them off to be looked after for the day. Jasmine is very self possessed, talkative and socially adept. Leila is quieter but self-reliant in a different way, talking to herself while she plays with the toys. Interesting to watch her analysing how a toy works (some of Grandpa's genes?). She has very good fine motor co-ordination. Doug's sister Kathleen stops in with her grandson Johnny, an active, happy little boy (10 months old?).

We take train and tube back. Genie has saved us our old room and it feels like home now.Time for a little shopping in Camden Town, including a bottle of ruby cabernet which we take with us to Indian Veg, where the owner is happy to provide us with wine glasses. Good as ever.

Monday, April 15/2013

We're off and so are our very gracious and generous hosts. Phil and Elaine have a newly acquired motor home and are heading off Liverpool way to try it out and visit friends. It's both airy and compact - really nicely planned. I could quite happily live in a space like that, at least for half the year.

We stop at Leeds on our way and take a look at the house where D and J lived when their girls were little. Very nicely located in a dead end road across from parkland, and they sound a little wistful. Lovely big house too.

As we reach London, we can see that the weekend sun and warmth has done its best and cherry blossoms,magnolias, forsythia and camellias have joined the daffodils. Late but lovely.

Sunday, April 14/2013

Lazy Sunday breakfast with back bacon and sausages from the excellent local butcher. Mushrooms, scrambled eggs, cherry tomatoes and pancakes. More than holds us for an exploration of York. York was a Roman town and parts of the wall round the old city are Roman. It's windy but warm and we walk a section of the wall, then stop to admire the cathedral, York Minster, famous as the largest medieval cathedral in Europe. It is enormous, but more important, it's beautiful, and should really be the burial place of the much maligned Richard III, though it doesn't look as  if that will happen. There's a lovely dignity and grace about the older centre of the city, and E and P take us to the Shambles, the oldest section, its name derived from the benches on which butchers displayed their meat and not from the appearance of old buildings that almost lean on each other (the oldest 14th century). Then along the river for a brief stop at a pub and we're off. On the way back we stop at Knaresborough to see the castle ruins and the stunning view below. York and its surrounds were royalist in the civil war and paid a price for it afterward.

Phil and Elaine surpass themselves at dinner. A stunning roast of beef (local butcher again). Roast potatoes, leeks (home grown), carrots, parsnips, broccoli, cauliflower, and a delicious dish that Elaine has made with butternut squash, almonds and pine nuts. Beautiful. Also Yorkshire pudding, courtesy of Jenny. Barely room for dessert, but we do make some because it's a crumble made with their own gooseberries. they have a lovely garden that goes back endlessly, with a fish pond and greenhouse and even a little summer house with electricity - to say nothing of the view over the fields. The house itself is lovely too,
following loving renovations. Beautifully designed.

Saturday, April 13/2013

Lovely drive cross country. Pass a village bus saying Ilkley - of Ilkley Moor fame. We're in hilly pasture land on our way west to Keighley, where there's a little steam railway linking half a dozen towns and run by enthusiastic volunteers. Our tickets are good for its whole length, so on board for Oxenhope, the other end of the line, where there's an exhibition shed with a variety of old steam locomotives, complete with provenance. There are even some teenagers, on their school break, with paint brushes, helping out with restoration. Great fun for all of us - most of us old enough to premember steam engines in regular use.

We have just enough time for lunch. The nearby pub is being refurbished and isn't doing food, but this may be to our advantage as there's a busy little local fish and chip takeaway - fish and chips £3.50 ($5.40) and delicious. We take them to benches on the edge of the adjacent playing field.

Then one stop down the line to Haworth. There`s a steep walk uphill to the village - lovely, quaint shops and the parsonage in which the Bronte sisters were raised, now turned into a museum on the edge of the moor. There are quite a few original items - letters, clothing, photographs - as well as period furnishings and some historical background, such as the high death rate in the village due to poor sanitation and the number of villagers (up to 24 families) sharing one privy. The church nearby has been rebuilt in the nineteenth century but it`s the congregation where the sisters` father, Patrick Bronte, was rector and the Bronte family tomb is under one of its pillars.

We`re back at the little station in time to see a man erase the next train from the blackboard with the listings, so repair to the pub across the road, sussed out by Phil, to tests its bitter before the last train back. If any of the run looks familiar there may be a reason. Damems Station was used in the series Born and Bred, and Oaksworth in the film version of The Railway Children.

Lovely meze style supper followed by a hot drink (Lamumba?) made with brandy and chocolate, the latter brought back by E and P from their South American cruise. Very nice.

Friday, April 12/2013

Jenny, Doug, Joe and I drive to Yorkshire. It's a theoretical four hours but actually closer to six. Roads fairly clogged in places, largely because it's Friday afternoon. And, as Doug says, because they let northerners drive cars. A bit hard on D, who does all the driving, but not bad for the rest of us. Lots of fields with sheep, many of them with tiny lambs scampering or feeding or huddling with a twin. Daffodils and crocuses out and, as we get further north, dry stone walls and rolling fields.

Elaine and Phil live in Hampsthwaite, just outside Harrogate. They kindly welcome us with tea and cake and then we go for a walk in the country. As we look at the pretty river running through the village it starts to rain a little, so we wind up at a village pub where we enjoy the local bitter. Then home. Phil has made a superb cassoulet with beans and two different kinds of sausage - chorizo and Sicilian.

Thursday, April 11/2013

Out of the Baron's and over to Starbucks for coffee and wifi. The tube to Wimbledon and train from there to Thames Ditton. Everything with us as we'll be gone until Tuesday before moving back to the hotel. Nice to know it does still all fit - if only just.

Jenny has invited her cousin Elaine and Elaine's husband Hugh to dinner - generous and ambitious as she's been at a training session for Community Advice Bureau counsellors. Lovely, though. Moussaka and creme caramel and good conversation as Doug and Hugh wind each other up about the merits or otherwise of the Thatcher regime.

Wednesday, April 10/2013

Last day in Bayswater.Time to excavate the room - all the papers with articles we planned to read but....Our rose has been in a wine bottle. On Thursday, as we were going out to the Barbican, there was a young man standing on the front steps with a large plasticised carrier bag of roses. Sheltering from the snow? Hoping someone with a key would let him into the hotel? In any case he handed me a rose. I was going to go back and put it in the room before we left but he said it would be bad luck. So, ridiculously, I took it with me - on the tube, to the Barbican Library, back on the tube, to its wine bottle. Never really opened up, but had a beautiful scent.

On the platform at King's Cross we arrive to screams and see people trying the impossible - to force open a carriage door. Fear the worst, but it turns out that no-one has been crushed. A woman's children are in the carriage but the door has closed before she could join them. Someone pulls the emergency alarm and eventually the door opens to admit her.

Tuesday, April 9/2013

With Alexander and Flora to Autograf, the Polish restaurant in Tottenham. Just barely on time as the Central line has been sseriously slowed after someone threw themself under a train - roughly a weekly occurrence on the London Underground.

The restaurant turns out to be a keeper. Tiny and informal, but nice staff and really authentic Polish food. In fact the menu is bilingual, but with the Polish first, and signs on the wall are in Polish only. Bigos, cabbage rolls, goulash, potato pancakes, and some of the best pierogies we've  tasted. We begin with a mixed plate of them as a shared starter. One, that J says was delicious, has a spinach filling. Cheesecake and apple pie for dessert - one of each but four plates - we're pretty full by then. and a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.

Monday, April 8/2013

Neighbourhood gentrification is a mixed blessing. Not rescuing slums and tending window boxes, but the more commercialised variety that seems to take all the quirky character out of a street. So Kilburn High Road still has tiny restaurants with local customers and no chain affiliation. Pubs that have history - in one case 525 years of it. Architectural idiosyncrasy. But yesterday we saw that, the Junk Shop not withstanding, Greenwich is going upscale. Goddard's pie shop is still there, albeit in new premises, after over a hundred years in the same family, but wine bars and little boutiques are slowly displacing small cafés and second hand bookshops. And Queensway, in Bayswater, when J and I had our first meal there - our first meal together ever - twenty-four years ago, was funkier, less ''expensive, more real. Will Kilburn suffer the same fate? What about Brixton?

The news today, of course, is that Baroness Thatcher has died. Tributes of course - and many who view her legacy with some bitterness as well. An amazing number of interviewees on television, but then, whether or not anyone expected the death right now, it has been inevitable for some time and the media have had lots of time to prepare.

Sunday, April 7/2013

Another sunny day - and the breeze is a warm one. Queensway happy again with cups of coffee and pints of beer. Restaurant touts handing out their cards as usual but people lingering. A good day to go over to Greenwich.

The main covered market is too crowded to enjoy, especially at the good end, which is so packed that actual eating looks hazardous. Lots of crafts for sale. More fun though at the open air antique market up the road. Not all antiques but retro jewellery (from the '70's!), old books, gramophones, vintage clothing, metal signs. And then there's the Junk Shop - yes, that is its name, though the letter slot has a notice saying no junk mail. The shop is an astonishing warren of collectables - everything imaginable, from sheet music to tin boxes, antique dolls, an Edwardian school desk not that different from the one I used in grade one, books, old postcards, china. I love the antique chemist's bottles, in part because I remember the village doctor's office in my early childhood. There was no pharmacy and the doctor prescribed medicines from the dark brown and deep blue bottles lining his shelves - ones that looked much like the ones we saw in Cuba half a century later, or here today.

We have a couple of small bottles of our own in our coat pockets - airplane size wine bottles refilled with wine and ready for our stop at the Indian Veg. they're happy to supply wine glasses - and unlike Ontario there's no corkage fee. Actually, when we stopped once at a village in Quebec there was no corkage fee either - and it seemed to be more than the quality of my French preventing the waitress from understanding the concept. Very civilised. And the food here always good.

Saturday, April 6/2013

Sun is out and the east wind gone and it`s the weekend. On Queensway the people are out as if they`d crawled from underneath rocks into the sun. Jackets unzipped, glasses of beer on the tables outside the cafés, no longer the sole preserve of desperate smokers.

And we across to the South Bank and the river walkway. Families, couples, young skateboarders, an open air food market with ethic foods, and even a man cutting up a whole roasted free range boar and offering samples. As we pass a café we`re offered a sample of spiced chai - very good. the tide is out and on the sands below the walk there are buskers at work. a guitarist has spread out a blanket for his audience to throw down coins. Perhaps luckier than the Irishman who sang and played the guitar onn a crowded tube carriage the other day and got off saying ``Sod the applause - I can`t pay bills with applause.`` A little sad, but then he was, in undoubted contravention of local bylaws, competing with legitimate buskers who had to audition for their pitches in the the underground tunnels. Here on the Southbank`s tidal sands there are also the sand sculptors taking advantage of low tide.

Our semi-annual visit to tate Modern. It`s been a while since there was an impressive installation in the huge entrance hall, but there are always other exhibitions to visit. I`m taken by an oil of Ernst`s - made by placing the canvis over planks of wood, scraping paint across and then working with the image - ``The Entire City,`` 1934.

Friday, April 5/2013

To the Saatchi Gallery, always a favourite. Not only always free but very friendly - nothing ever roped off, just a reminder to parents to prevent children touching. The featured exhibitions today are contemporary Russian. Some wit and quite a lot of despair, with a set of black and white photographs by Vikenti Nilin showing people perched precariously, if not suicidally, on window ledges and balcony railings - the floor centre occupied by a splatted humanoid form in black plastic. There`s also a truly disturbing exhibition of Boris Mikhailov's photographs portraying a degraded segment of the population - abused, alcoholic, sexual but scarcely arousing. Exploitation or documentary? The whole exhibition is entitled "Gaiety is the Outstanding Feature of the Soviet Union" - heavily ironic and very sad, in a post-Soviet Russia where there is not even the Communist safety net and a great many marginalised people staring into the abyss. But some wit as well - the statue of a woman who is rounded off like a Russian doll, to the fascination of a very small girl.

Thursday, April 4/2013

Last of the tablet purchases. Irresistibly priced at £129 (VAT reclaimable) a 64 gb Blackberry Playbook, including sleeve and three months Times subscription. Other than the keyboard, it`s hard to compare the convenience of a netbook with that of 7 inch tablets. Two fit in my handbag, which isn`t large. Hard to imagine that ten years ago we travelled with no computer, tablet or mobile phone and thought we lived in a remarkable age because there were internet cafés. And now rumour has it that Norway is going to scrap landlines and go entirely with mobiles. Cheaper to maintain networks than phone lines? Perhaps in the end that will give us decent coverage at home.

Back by bus and tube in blowing snow. For the first time in our memory the flower sellers at the corner have closed down early. A miserable job standing there in the cold wind and sleet, and not wonderful for the flowers either. Then back to the Barbican to set the Playbook up.

Wednesday, April 3/2013

A block away from us the New Dawn Hotel has turned its tiny courtyard into a Middle Eastern garden, featuring a bamboo screen, relaxed seating, a canopy and sheeshas - bubble pipes. Supposed to be much harder on the lungs than regular cigarettes but always intriguing, with hints of opium. Not cheap either - featured at a restaurant round the corner for £9.95 ($15.32), rather more than their advertised meal. Not doing too well in this cold weather though.

Outside the 99p store in Camden Town a BMW sedan pulled up and being loaded by two Asian women with box after box of purchases from a shop where nothing costs more than 99p ($1.52), although many items - brand name shampoos, 3 tins of brand name beans, packs of 12 AA batteries, brand name deodorants, etc - are surprisingly good value for a pound. Noticeably better than Canadian dollar stores, particularly in that many of the things on sale are necessities that would otherwise have to be bought elsewhere at higher prices.

Tuesday, April 2/2013

Checking out central London theatreland. The number of theatres reserving cheap tickets for same day early queuers has expanded. It's no longer only the National on the South Bank. However the central theatres (where regular seats are often sold out) tend to reserve fewer seats (10-14) and the queues begin anywhere from 5:30 to 7:00 a.m. for box offices that open at 10! Given the bitter weather we have no intention at all of waiting four hours on the pavement from a pre-dawn start. Sunny and not too cold by afternoon though and a nice wander through Leicester Square and China Town.

The supper plan was to go to Autograf, a northeast Polish restaurant with stunningly good reviews. It's not as accessible as it might be, but a longish bus ride gets us there - almost to the door. Only to find it's closed for Easter week, opening again on Friday. It's tiny and located in a mixed Turkish and Polish neighbourhood, but the reviews are proudly displayed inthe window, and we discover a slightly shorter way of getting there via Archway tube station and a bus. Which is the route we take back to Chapel Market and our old standby the Indian Veg.

A young man, twentyish, on the platform at Edgeware Road tube station wants to be sure the train he's taking is to Victoria, and it is a bit confusing. We show him the schematic and assure him it's the right train. How many stations? Eight stops. Then he shows us his ticket. Will it still be good. We assure him it's good all day, and he explains that he can't read - hence the heavy reliance on verbal assurances about the number of stops. His English is fluent - possibly first language - and he doesn't do any explaining about broken glasses, etc. Can he really be illiterate? A scary thought where everything relies on reading at least signs.

Monday, April 1/2013

April Fool`s Day. Could this be referring to the weather?  A day mostly poking around the shops on Kilburn High Road, which ends, predictably, with our eating at Roses (spelled rightly or wrongly without the ubiquitous apostrophe). It's not only wonderful prices for home cooked meals but, as far as we can tell, almost entirely local clientele. A very mixed lot it is. The earlier settlers of Kilburn were Irish and there are still Irish pubs and Irish newspapers sold, but the street now is full of Asians, Caribbean blacks and Moslems and the ethnic restaurants and window signs are highly multicultural. My favourite still is:

NAJLEPSZY KEBAB
[unknown word in Arabic writing] HALAL

Najlepszy the Polish for best.

As to the local clientele at Roses, the waitresses are East European and when Joe admires  the baby at the next table both J's compliment and the mother's thanks are in Polish.

Sunday, March 31/2013

The time changes here - and in most of Europe - today, making it slightly harder to get up for Easter Mass. There’s not much point in going to Westminster Cathedral late and expecting a seat, but we’re actually earlier than need be so have a cup of coffee while overlooking the square in front of the church. Interesting bits of minor drama as (homeless?) men gather. One cadges a cigarette from two others, who later share a doughnut. It’s a very inner city location and at one point a staff member in the coffee shop sits down with two very loud men and calms them - a talent probably needed frequently around here. Outside we passed a man in a sleeping bag on the sidewalk.

Standing room only at Mass, as was undoubtedly the case at the vigil Mass last night. The boys choir is in attendance as well as the senior choir and the Mass begins with Palestrina, unaccompanied by organ, whch comes in later. Archbishop Vincent Nichols is the celebrant.

After Church to Kilburn High Road for a pub lunch. There’s a Sunday carvery with a choice of roast pork or roast beef (or a mixture, which we opt for), with oven roasted potatoes, Yorkshire pudding, dressing, carrots, cauliflower, green beans and plenty of gravy. Plates heaped for £4.95 ($7.65). Pints of ale (or lager if you prefer, which we don`t) for £1.99. Makes us think how long it`s been in Canada since we ate anything at a restaurant that was oven-cooked. Hence roast potatoes, which don`t nuke well, virtually unknown. Lovely Easter dinner.

The street market is on and many of the smaller shops are open. We buy five oranges for a pound to take home. Pick up a Sunday Times on Queensway and home with a week`s reading. The 159th Oxford v Cambridge boat race is on. Pretty chilly for watching outside and we have a better view on the telly anyway. Oxford, with Canadian Olympic gold winner Malcolm Howard in the stroke seat, wins.

Saturday, March 30/2013

We brave the morning cold to queue at the National Theatre,arriving about eight, which puts us near but not at the front of the queue. It's cold - around zero - but not windy and we're in a particularly sheltered bit. Chat for the hour and some with the man behind us - theatre, travel, politics, education - and the time passes quite quickly. He's here to get tickets for "this House" and we for Alan Bennett's "People". Early queuers can get two tickets each from the £12 tickets held back for same day release, and belatedly it occurs to us that we can get two tickets for one play for the matinée this afternoon and two more for tonight`s performance. So we do.

Quick trip home for late breakfast and then back for the afternoon. London always so visually stimulating. Opposite us on the tube sits a young man wearing black leather jacket, white dress shirt, bow tie showing a map of the underground, red tartan vest, black jeans rolled up to the length of plus fours, heavy woollen socks meeting his trousers, and platform shoes that are a combination of leopard spots, black spots on white and black spots on dark red. En route to a party? Maybe, but his female companion is dressed quite conventionally.

“This House`is our matinée choice. Brilliantly staged, fast paced and fun. It follows the finely balanced and sometimes minority British parliaments of the mid-seventies, focused entirely on the Labour and Tory whips and set mostly in the whips’ rooms. The only character we actually recognise is a young Michael Heseltine swinging the mace to the incandescent fury of the speaker (as he actually did in 1976). But that is the point. The drama and chaos of the whips’ offices always is much of the story, despite having protagonists whose names no one later remembers.

There’s not really time to go home between plays, so a quick burger and we take coffees from Starbucks back to the National where there’s a jazz trio performing in he foyer. The singer is very good and it’s a lovely way to spend the time before the evening performance. “People” is also enjoyable. Not absolutely prime Bennett, but some wit and some interesting questions. It takes us a while to recognise the female archdeacon as Selina Cadell, who plays the pharmacist in Doc Martin. Not recognition based on memory, either. We google on the Blackberry tablet during the interval.

A long day, but fun.

Friday, March 29/2013

Good Friday. We go down to Starbucks for coffee. Still doing setup things. There's one man who seems to be a regular. Well, rather more than that. Regardless of the time of day he's always there, a paper cup (probably long since empty) in front of him. He smiles, often sleeps, sitting on a hardbacked chair, occasionally talks to himself. Obviously there are mental health difficulties, but it's a pretty tolerant place and he doesn't bother anyone - with the exception of the time when he sneezed at least twenty times and clearly needed a handkerchief but didn't have one. For a while I wondered if he was homeless, walking the streets at night and sleeping in the chair in the daytime, but it seems more likely he stays in a room or hostel where he is turned out for the day. A very difficult life.

The tube is pretty disrupted due to repairs scheduled for the long weekend, but we go over to the British Library, joking that her majesty is unlikely to be there today - thinking of the last time we had gone and found it closed for a royal visit. The queen isn't there but it is closed - something the googling failed to show. So a bit of a bus tour and we're back in Islington looking at the antique shops in Camden Passage and, finally, having a vegetarian supper at Indian Veg. Couldn't be more different from the crowded party atmosphere of Wednesday. It's quiet and almost empty. Same good food, though this time we haven't brought wine. the owner tells us he's run the place for twenty-seven years, during which time the price of the buffet has risen from £2.99 ($4.63) to £4.99 ($7.33). The dhal is made fresh every morning and what`s left is given to the homeless every night. For, as it says on the inside door of the loo, if your home has a roof, windows and more than one room, you're in the world's top 20%. If you also have a fridge you're in the top 5%.

Thursday, March 28/2013

Theoretically a very busy day. The intent was that I would go to West Harrow to help Jean find and possibly buy tickets to visit Fredericton at the end of next month. Then we were to go out to dinner with Alexander and Flora. For different reasons both cancelled, so we  head to the Barbican library for a quiet and reasonably secure place to set up the new tablet and to search. Does seem a bit of a waste of London time but the time is so much better spent when we can check places, events and opening times first.

Cypriot banks finally open today after being shut for twelve days. All kinds of restrictions as to amounts that can be taken out (three hundred euros a day) and electronic transfers or use of Cypriot credit cards.

Wednesday, March 27/2013

Take advantage of the surprisingly better prices on some electronics in the U to acquire an Ipad Mini at John Lewis, after endless comparison and debate. VAT refundable at Heathrow. Don't know if we'll reach the point where we travel with tablets and no netbook, but it would be lighter and simpler - but no real keyboard. Out to the Indian Veg in Chapel Market. It's crazy busy and we end up sitting at the end of a long table of young (thirtyish) people clearly celebrating something. They're lovely about it - and I apologise for not having brought a prezzie. Not a pretense of a free seat anywhere.

Tuesday, March 26/2013

There's a new app, shown on the television news, which allows young doctors to practise surgical techniques as restrictions on the once horrific hours they worked have left them with less experience. The doctors they interview are enthusiastic ans say it gives them more confidence. so now, as well as asking a surgeon how many times s/he has done a particular operation, one can add "and how many of those were virtual?"