First item of interest was the apparent closure of the taxi firm just by the West Hill railway bridge, the one which was reported to be staffed in large part by refugees from various parts of the Middle East and which gained some fame among smokers for retaining road visible ash trays in their office for some time after the introduction of the smoking ban. I am sure I blogged the matter but cannot now find the post. I think they may have now merged with Viceroy across the road, perhaps on the retirement of Mr. Viceroy I.
Second item was the sloping, diagonally mounted solar panels which have been erected on the tops of a row of small tower blocks, just north of the railway line, just to this side of Queenstown Road. I have not managed to snap them yet, the train not having stopped in a convenient way, so we have to make do with this aerial view of four of them from google sky, which does not give much idea at all of how well they look from the train. They make a handsome feature on the top of the blocks, but I usually wonder, as the train flits past them, how many decades it will take for the electricity generated from the panels to pay for their erection.
Bullingdoned without incident from Waterloo Station 1 to Finsbury Leisure Centre and so to the Market Café for the traditional bacon sandwich in the now not so traditional greasy spoon. On to St. Luke's to hear Alice Sara Ott give us the Op.31 No.2 Piano Sonata from Beethoven and the Grandes Études de Paganini from Liszt. Rather flamboyant entry in a very flamboyant dress, a long pale backless affair, very tight and covered in sequins. Very flamboyant for lunch time. The lady next to me estimated £500 for an off-the-peg job, while I thought rather more, maybe £1,000 or more. But we were both rather troubled to think that this performer was only born at about the time that we were about 40.
Beethoven very good, Liszt very much what I call show off music, although not altogether without musical merit.
Quite a lot of rather stylishly executed cross hand (over hand?) playing, with the odd stretch where both hands, at least from where I was sitting, appeared to be in action at the same place on the keyboard.
Back to Old Street Station to pick up the return Bullingdon, to be entertained by a line of three police motorcyclists coming around the roundabout, dressed all in black, a bit special forces, with their blue lights up and flashing. What were they up to? And so back to Waterloo Roundabout, having been rather stopped in my tracks on the northern approach to Blackfriars Bridge by the stunning view across the river in the late afternoon sun. The sun itself was hidden behind something, but the new block going up in the vicinity of Sea Containers House, and topped by the odd crane, was stunning against the very bright, pale blue winter sky. I thought about stopping for a picture but decided that even the new Lumia would fail to capture the moment.
For once in a while took a sandwich from Upper Crust. Fresh and serviceable, but the cheese used to make my cheese and tomato sandwich was very bland. I suspected some kind of shrink wrapped ready sliced cheese, only for sale to caterers.
Entertained on the way home by a one girl loudly recounting the traumas of shared flats, in particular shared kitchens, bathrooms and toilets, to her friend. But by the time they got off, I had had enough; I had not needed to be reminded quite so forcefully of that phase in my life.
Reference 1: gmaps 51.474115, -0.149834.
Reference 2: http://www.alicesaraott.com/.
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