Tuesday 29th – Friday 2nd

Currently at Tokyo airport awaiting a connecting flight but more about that later. Back to where I left off.

Going all the way back to my second week in London now. On the Tuesday I decided to fit in yet another gallery, this time a Tracey Emin exhibition at a gallery off Bond St. Unfortunately it was closed for a private function so I wandered up and down the street window shopping because I was too scared to go into the expensive stores. The Vivienne Westwood store was particularly appealing but I was strong and kept walking.

I instead headed over to the British Museum via another Muji store where I bought yet another item of Muji clothing. Amy introduced me to Muji and I’ll take it over Top Shop any day.

I went to the British Museum specifically to see an exhibition of Alexander Walker’s private collection. I think the story goes that he was a highly esteemed film reviewer for a London newspaper and also a avid art collector. When he died he left all of the works to the British Museum. Nice guy. Great exhibition of mostly prints, drawings and watercolours.

I then headed back to the National Gallery for a wander around but once I got there I decided that I didn’t really have time because the tube strike was only an hour or so away and I need to get to Kensington to meet Chez. The tubes were packed thanks to a strike starting at 6:30 but I manage to make it across town before they stopped. Chez was late getting in from Wales due to extra traffic because of the strike so we didn’t meet until 8 or 9pm. In the meantime I had some dinner in a modern looking Chinese restaurant called Bowl and Stick (or was it Stick and Bowl?). The funny thing was that my dinner was served on a plate with a fork.

Chez was in the UK taking a group of about 60 of her music students on a world tour. I won’t name the school so as to protect her identity (so she can keep her job). Anyway, I met up with her as well as some of her other ex-students – Matt, Jeff and Nick. We got a cab over to Covent Garden and there was a lot to fit into the short time before the pubs closed at 11pm. We sampled beers at four different pubs before the final bell rang to tell us to go home. Home? No, the night was still young. And it’s not as if I spent the afternoon at an internet cafe working out what bus I could get back to Amy’s place around midnight or so. To make a long story (or is that a long night?) short I’ll just say that we danced along to bad music (`My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard…‘), in a dodgy looking nightclub until it was so late that a cab was the only option. Purple monkey dishwasher indeed.

I didn’t quite realise that I had to get up so shortly after going to bed on Wednesday. I was heading off to a village called Harpole which is near Northampton to visit relatives. I was quite impressed with my skill of getting from the south east of London where Amy lives to Euston Station in the north without the use of a tube because of the strike. I risked buying some sushi for breakfast from Marks and Spencer and I wouldn’t suggest that anyone else tries it. I was picked up at Northampton station and then headed out to Altrope for lunch (where Diana is buried). Yes, the lunch was much better than the sushi.

Harpole is a lovely little village. There’s nothing like these villages in Australia. There’s only one road in and out of the village and everybody knows everybody else. And of course, no English village would be complete wtihout three bars. The house was a gorgeous 300 year old three story thing. We laughed at the fact that Australia doesn’t have any buildings over 200 years old. We went to the only decent pub in the village of the three. I tried Pimm’s which seems to be everywhere in the UK at the moment but wasn’t all that impressed. The fun began when we got into a cab to head to a nearby Italian restaurant for dinner. This wasn’t just any cab: this was Disco Cab. It was a black cab and I think the driver lived in the village. He loved his stereo and proceeded to pump out classics from Locomotion to Come on Eileen while flashing the interior lights on and off in time with the music. Maybe he needs to get out more.

I didn’t get much accomplished on Thursday after a late night and then a train trip back to London. I headed straight for Sainsbury’s for some potato bread and eggs. If only you could buy potato bread in Australian supermarkets. The afternoon went quickly and in the evening I met up with Geraldine, an old uni friend who is currently doing the working in London thing. She’s also doing the going to every festival in the UK thing. This included making me jealous of her weekend in Glastonbury. We tried to find a pub dinner but weren’t successful so we instead found a good Indian restaurant near London Bridge. Once again I found myself rushing to get the last train home even though we both agreed to have an early night. Ah well, that’s what holidays are for.

Friday was my last day on my own in London. Hard to believe I’d run out of time to do all that I wanted to considering that when Peter left, a week earlier, I didn’t know what I’d do with myself.

But that will have to wait until the next post because duty free shopping at Tokyo airport is calling. Stay tuned for some very funny stories from Ireland (`Murder, and I mean murder’) and a lovely few days in Paris. And of course more London. There’s always more London.