A visit to the US embassy to see about my visa. Suffice it to say, for the moment, that given what they have to do and the number of people they have to process, the US consular people do a good job. I was there just about an hour and a half altogether.
A visit which rather reminded me of a visit to a hospital for an out-patients appointment. One takes one's turn as a package in somebody else's process. A visit which also included passing a real live butcher in a rather improbable premises in central Mayfair (see http://www.allensofmayfair.co.uk/. He appears to do mail order). In a hurry to join the queue outside the embassy so I did not linger to inspect the goods on display.
Bullingdon interlude: Grosvenor Square to St. Martin's Street
Episode 2: Strange Beauty, take 2
More on this in due course. Followed by tea and a bacon sandwich at the very reasonably priced café in Ducannon Street.
Bullingdon interlude: William IV Street to the Hop Exchange
A lot of traffic down Fleet Street to past St. Paul's. More than I am used to and more than is pleasant for this cyclist. Not helped by either the slight rain or the umbrella hung with agricultural sizal (that is to say bought from that well known agricultural & county outfitter at http://www.moleavon.co.uk/) diagonally over the shoulder.
Episode 3: Borough Market and environs
To Borough Cheese Market to get some more of their Comté, where I thought that the wrapper of the cheese rounds had a different design to that which I remembered, but the young lady serving me assured me that there had been no change. I think she suspected me of getting my cheese stalls muddled up but I am sure she is wrong about that. Cheese seemed OK and is now hanging up in the garage, out of reach of the mice while I polish off the poacher.
Wandered about a bit, but wandering not so clever in the light rain. Investigated the John Harvard Library to find that they were not as accommodating of aliens as the Western Regional Capital (see, for example, November 15th, 2008 in the other place) and wanted me to fill in rather an elaborate form before I would be allowed to use one of their computers. They were very friendly about it but I declined and as the place did not attract as a reading room I left, to read this morning in Wikipedia that the John Harvard for whom the library was named, lived from 1607 to 1638, was the fifth son of a Southwark butcher, a graduate of Emmanuel College, then a clergyman who emigrated to Massachusetts where he died rather young of TB, bequeathing most of his estate, including hundreds of books, to the college now known as Harvard University.
Followed up with a visit to the church of St. George the Martyr, looking to be of roughly Queen Anne vintage, a little dingy inside but sporting an unusual ceiling, mainly occupied with a large ornate plaster cartouche, which I now learn to have been installed in the late 19th century.
Along the way noticed a rectangular hole fashioned half way up the western wall of the Shard. Maybe 8 feet high by 15 wide. What was it for? For the entry and exit of the window cleaners, to save them having to crank themselves all the way up by hand?
Bullingdon interlude: Borough High Street to Bankside Mix
Snooze: Tate Modern
Thinking that the members' lounge would probably be full of mothers, babies and art lovers, discovered that the back of the turbine hall, that is to say down the ramp and at the far end from the doors, was a fine place to take a break. One had the ever impressive space more or less to one self and it was reasonably quiet, warm and dry. Much better than a park bench in the circumstances.
In the course of which I was interested to read in E. M. Dent (on whom more on another occasion) that the Eagle Tavern of City Road of pop goes the weasel fame (see, for example, March 23rd 2013) was once associated with the Grecian Saloon, a saloon which in the mid 19th century ran to opera. Furthermore, the well known music hall star Marie Lloyd was the daughter of John 'Brush' Wood an artificial flower maker and former waiter there. It seems that the saloon theatres, always being taverns or attached to taverns, created a public who liked to mix its dramatic amusements with smoking and light refreshments.
Bullingdon interlude: Bankside Mix to Borough Road, Elephant and Castle
Still more traffic. Maybe a bit tired, despite the break or maybe a bit dehydrated, despite the rain, but was frustrated enough to indulge in a bit of wrong-side-of-the-road overtaking of a large white tour bus, to find myself heading rapidly for a taxi and a large white van. Luckily there was room for the taxi to get around me and the van turned right in front of the bus. For once I had earned getting shouted at by the taxi driver.
Somewhat shaken, parked up well short of the stand just short of Elephant & Castle, in fact just short of St. George's Circus, which I have been through often enough that I ought to have known better. Hoofed it onto Elephant & Castle where I had some trouble finding the Northern Line tube station. But the diverse outdoor market, the source of my £10 downstairs coverlet for daytime snoozes, still seemed to be OK, despite the threatened redevelopment of the whole site.
Episode 4: Mixed Blessings
Visited Mixed Blessings in Mitcham Road to take on cake in four parts, listed in order of their consumption. A fruit bun, mid brown in the form of a large, heavy bap. Three of their sausage roll shaped buns made of bread and coconut. Two salt fish fritters which looked very much like those offered by the Google Image service and proved tasty but chewy when warmed up in the microwave and served with a little salad, after the way of a samosa in an Indian restaurant. Good gear but a clear and present danger to fillings: we did not think that they should have been quite so chewy, perhaps a result of reheating. One spicy fruit loaf, medium size. A bit sweeter and spicier than its bun cousin. Trimmed with glacé cherries.
On the way to Mixed Blessings passed a young lady in a dark three quarter length coat which appeared to be made of some sort of figured velvet, very much the sort of thing worn by the Bishop of Lavour for the Holbein portrait which can be seen in 'Strange Beauty' (see above). This prompted a discussion back home about exactly what the bishop was wearing, a discussion which was supported by zooming into the excellent digital image offered by the National gallery web site. I learned that the robe in question was fur lined, which I had not noticed before and we settled for the description ' brown damask' from the Gallery booklet. Chambers has damask down as one of the many sorts of cloth made from silk, but left me curious as to how one gets the figure in the stuff. To be followed up in slow time. Perhaps a visit to the V&A is indicated?
Left Tooting in the middle of a serious cloudburst which I later found to have passed Epsom by. Once again saved by being in the rain shadow of the north downs.
On the way, having had a good example of manners the day before, there was an example of collectively bad manners. A young lady got onto the not very crowded train, perhaps at Wimbledon, to announce that it was rather hot and started to open windows, succeeding in opening one of them. She was not obviously pregnant but she had clearly come over a bit hot and bothered for some reason or another. But not one of the ten or so people sitting in the space in question, including one young man, one old man and three middle-aged men, one of whom was very fancily done up for the time of day in black suit and blue bow tie, thought to offer her a seat. I did not intervene on this occasion, thinking that that would have caused more bother than the young lady in question would have appreciated.
PS: illustration courtesy of http://www.glacecherries.com/.
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