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(More) weekends in London
Nov. 20th, 2002 01:27 pmI think I wrote this in November sometime.
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Another weekend, what to do in London that's cheap? Hmmmmm...
Frustratingly, London appears to breed wallet moths, a hungry insect that infests wallets and billfolds, eats your cash at a frightening rate, and leaves a trail of receipts as droppings. Careful thought can lead to accounting for many disappearances of money, but honestly, sometimes I think I picked up a colony of moths somewhere in the airport.
For instance, an off-peak day travel card is £4.10. Sounds ok, until you realize that's about $10-11 CDN, for the privilege of travelling round London. Sadly, if you take more than two Tube rides in one day, it starts to become worthwhile.
Transportation and eating out put the biggest dent in one's wallet, and feed the moths the fastest. Even a cheap 'caff' breakfast is between £3-5; how often do you pay $7-12 for breakfast, even on weekends?
As a result, walks in the park and visits to the museums are looking better and better as weekend entertainment.
The weekend of Remembrance Day I visited Hyde Park for the first time. Starting from the corner of Regent's park (underground) crossing under the triumphal arches near Wellington's statue, and past the tomb of the unknown soldier.
This latter piece is quite moving; Lying on top of the crypt is a slightly larger than life bronze of a soldier, laid out in his boots and puttees, with his great coat spread over him. The coat appears to have slipped down over the edge of the stonework, and its very realistic drape makes you feel you could lift it to see the man's face. Of course, he's meant to represent the thousands of men covered with their coats, gone before him.
It's very different from the multiple memorials to Wellington in this corner of the park. Facing his home on the square is a huge statue of the man on horseback, in his full military regalia. Just inside the gates of the part is an enormous Greek figure with round shield and sword in a heroic pose, dedicated to Wellington by the grateful populace, erected during the reign of one of the Georges. For some warriors are the stuff of legends, for others a matter of tragic loss.
It's hard to explain that in cramped and crowded London, there remain huge parks, big enough that you can't see boundaries on the horizon (well, if you squint you can ignore the construction cranes in the distance). I think they are very much needed, in this tightly packed city.
Hyde park is too big to walk around in a day, so I only wandered through part of it that weekend. It's a mix of vast open space, avenues of huge trees, corners full of ornate fountains, long walks along waterways. Hoofprints in the mud showed that some people still ride through it.
Two weekends ago, while I was moping over my lack of funds and yet another dull grey day, Robert suggested we go to the Victoria and Albert Museum, since neither of us had yet been. Many of the great musuems in London are blessedly free, except for guest collections.
(Currently, V&A features an exhibit of Versace's fashion works - bleck.) We quite happily bypassed the ticket line and went straight into the Romanesque and early medieval gallery.
The V&A is worth the trip, just to see the building. Its high galleries, painted ceilings and elegant proportions evoke a different era in architecture, one much more attractive to my eye than the modern one! though I'm quite sure it's a nightmare to keep heated and cooled.
The first gallery of interest was just steps inside the door. Having barely made it across the museum threshhold, I spent at least an hour riveted to one display after another. Here, once more, just in one room, were several artifacts I'd only ever read about or seen pictured in books, and never expected to see.
The first gallery held three different ecclesiastical copes, 13th and 14th c. opus anglicanum embroideries, thick with figures in split stitch and couched gold work. Further on were several chausables, often with embroidered panels that had been moved from a previous garment and mounted on a later one - mixing 14thc. embroidery with 16th/17th c. brocade. Sadly, you couldn't view the back of *anything* embroidered. All the pieces appeared to be mounted on backings to support them.
There were also Byzantine and European ivories, ones I'm certain I've studied in books, including one depcting Mary and child, that was the topic of an article on 12thc. dress I read years ago. It's so much more vivid in person!
I must have left nose prints on every case in the room.
The following gallery had a selection of 12th c. stone carvings, selected or rescued from churches and sites all over Europe, carrying Romanesque medieval designs. You couldn't have designed a gallery to entrance me more thoroughly! though I thought a bit sadly, as I watched bored kids skipping by, I must be a grownup to think it's cool to look at stuff in museums.
Upstairs was the real find though. Passing through an older exhibit of church plate (Robert and I agreed, yup, looks like a goblet all right, yup, so does that, and that, and that...), and another of 17th c. armour and swords, was a smoked glass door to another gallery that gave every impression of being closed.
I tried the door anyway, and found the Devonshire tapestries; a collection of 15th/16th c. wool tapestries (woven, not embroidered), that depict hunting and pastoral scenes populated by the rich and idle of the era.
They're hung in a high-ceilinged gallery in low light, and are crammed full of activity; hunting, hawking, flirting, eating, riding people. From edge to edge there's little space to spare for dogs, harts, horses, peasants and occasional countryside. Most participants are dressed in the height of court style of houppelandes and large floppy hats, with a variety of sleeve, neckline and hem details to draw the eye of a costumer. I sat on the bench and just gaped for a solid 20 minutes.
The flying pass through the gift shop was deliberately quick, the better to protect myself from acquiring more moths in my wallet. Sadly, the book about the Devonshire tapestries was £20.
Bizarrely, there are large items on exhibit, even in the shop. A 16th c. wooden staircase, complete with first, second and third storey balconies, is in the gift shop. It looks like it belongs outside in the side alley beside some seedy tavern and adjoining brothel in a medieval town. An entire storefront from the door lintels up, c. 1600, is preserved with its original smallpaned bay windows. I wish I could look closer, but there was no way to edge any nearer to them, high over my head.
Given that the museums are free, the best way to enjoy them is bit by bit, so as not to overwhelm my senses or my sore feet. If and when you visit, don't expect to 'do' a whole museum. Pick an exhibit or two, and enjoy them, and then take a break and do something else, ideally something that doesn't require a lot of standing. You'll enjoy the exhibits more and won't feel swamped.
---------------------
Another weekend, what to do in London that's cheap? Hmmmmm...
Frustratingly, London appears to breed wallet moths, a hungry insect that infests wallets and billfolds, eats your cash at a frightening rate, and leaves a trail of receipts as droppings. Careful thought can lead to accounting for many disappearances of money, but honestly, sometimes I think I picked up a colony of moths somewhere in the airport.
For instance, an off-peak day travel card is £4.10. Sounds ok, until you realize that's about $10-11 CDN, for the privilege of travelling round London. Sadly, if you take more than two Tube rides in one day, it starts to become worthwhile.
Transportation and eating out put the biggest dent in one's wallet, and feed the moths the fastest. Even a cheap 'caff' breakfast is between £3-5; how often do you pay $7-12 for breakfast, even on weekends?
As a result, walks in the park and visits to the museums are looking better and better as weekend entertainment.
The weekend of Remembrance Day I visited Hyde Park for the first time. Starting from the corner of Regent's park (underground) crossing under the triumphal arches near Wellington's statue, and past the tomb of the unknown soldier.
This latter piece is quite moving; Lying on top of the crypt is a slightly larger than life bronze of a soldier, laid out in his boots and puttees, with his great coat spread over him. The coat appears to have slipped down over the edge of the stonework, and its very realistic drape makes you feel you could lift it to see the man's face. Of course, he's meant to represent the thousands of men covered with their coats, gone before him.
It's very different from the multiple memorials to Wellington in this corner of the park. Facing his home on the square is a huge statue of the man on horseback, in his full military regalia. Just inside the gates of the part is an enormous Greek figure with round shield and sword in a heroic pose, dedicated to Wellington by the grateful populace, erected during the reign of one of the Georges. For some warriors are the stuff of legends, for others a matter of tragic loss.
It's hard to explain that in cramped and crowded London, there remain huge parks, big enough that you can't see boundaries on the horizon (well, if you squint you can ignore the construction cranes in the distance). I think they are very much needed, in this tightly packed city.
Hyde park is too big to walk around in a day, so I only wandered through part of it that weekend. It's a mix of vast open space, avenues of huge trees, corners full of ornate fountains, long walks along waterways. Hoofprints in the mud showed that some people still ride through it.
Two weekends ago, while I was moping over my lack of funds and yet another dull grey day, Robert suggested we go to the Victoria and Albert Museum, since neither of us had yet been. Many of the great musuems in London are blessedly free, except for guest collections.
(Currently, V&A features an exhibit of Versace's fashion works - bleck.) We quite happily bypassed the ticket line and went straight into the Romanesque and early medieval gallery.
The V&A is worth the trip, just to see the building. Its high galleries, painted ceilings and elegant proportions evoke a different era in architecture, one much more attractive to my eye than the modern one! though I'm quite sure it's a nightmare to keep heated and cooled.
The first gallery of interest was just steps inside the door. Having barely made it across the museum threshhold, I spent at least an hour riveted to one display after another. Here, once more, just in one room, were several artifacts I'd only ever read about or seen pictured in books, and never expected to see.
The first gallery held three different ecclesiastical copes, 13th and 14th c. opus anglicanum embroideries, thick with figures in split stitch and couched gold work. Further on were several chausables, often with embroidered panels that had been moved from a previous garment and mounted on a later one - mixing 14thc. embroidery with 16th/17th c. brocade. Sadly, you couldn't view the back of *anything* embroidered. All the pieces appeared to be mounted on backings to support them.
There were also Byzantine and European ivories, ones I'm certain I've studied in books, including one depcting Mary and child, that was the topic of an article on 12thc. dress I read years ago. It's so much more vivid in person!
I must have left nose prints on every case in the room.
The following gallery had a selection of 12th c. stone carvings, selected or rescued from churches and sites all over Europe, carrying Romanesque medieval designs. You couldn't have designed a gallery to entrance me more thoroughly! though I thought a bit sadly, as I watched bored kids skipping by, I must be a grownup to think it's cool to look at stuff in museums.
Upstairs was the real find though. Passing through an older exhibit of church plate (Robert and I agreed, yup, looks like a goblet all right, yup, so does that, and that, and that...), and another of 17th c. armour and swords, was a smoked glass door to another gallery that gave every impression of being closed.
I tried the door anyway, and found the Devonshire tapestries; a collection of 15th/16th c. wool tapestries (woven, not embroidered), that depict hunting and pastoral scenes populated by the rich and idle of the era.
They're hung in a high-ceilinged gallery in low light, and are crammed full of activity; hunting, hawking, flirting, eating, riding people. From edge to edge there's little space to spare for dogs, harts, horses, peasants and occasional countryside. Most participants are dressed in the height of court style of houppelandes and large floppy hats, with a variety of sleeve, neckline and hem details to draw the eye of a costumer. I sat on the bench and just gaped for a solid 20 minutes.
The flying pass through the gift shop was deliberately quick, the better to protect myself from acquiring more moths in my wallet. Sadly, the book about the Devonshire tapestries was £20.
Bizarrely, there are large items on exhibit, even in the shop. A 16th c. wooden staircase, complete with first, second and third storey balconies, is in the gift shop. It looks like it belongs outside in the side alley beside some seedy tavern and adjoining brothel in a medieval town. An entire storefront from the door lintels up, c. 1600, is preserved with its original smallpaned bay windows. I wish I could look closer, but there was no way to edge any nearer to them, high over my head.
Given that the museums are free, the best way to enjoy them is bit by bit, so as not to overwhelm my senses or my sore feet. If and when you visit, don't expect to 'do' a whole museum. Pick an exhibit or two, and enjoy them, and then take a break and do something else, ideally something that doesn't require a lot of standing. You'll enjoy the exhibits more and won't feel swamped.
