Trip Report - London/Oxford
PART I
After a quick four days at home, we got in a cab at 4:30am on Friday morning
and headed off to London again. The weather was terrible--freezing rain
mixed with snow, but it had cleared by the time we were due to depart.
Having stayed up until then, we slept fairly solidly on the flight--I wasn't
actually aware of taking off. We arrived just a few minutes late and
breezed through Heathrow and onto the Express train to Paddington, where we
could catch a bus to Barbara's place, just off Portobello Road. She
welcomed us and whipped up salad and a spinach quiche, which we enjoyed
before falling into bed. She and her place are both looking fabulous and
she is very happy with how things in her life are going.
On Saturday we went down to King's Cross to pick up our rental car and then
took it over to Bank, where we found legal onstreet parking that would be
free in a couple of hours, so we fed the meter and left the car to its own
recognizance. We made our way up to Holborn and visited the Sir John Soane
museum, which Jason had not previously seen. From there we wandered through
Covent Garden, made a quick stop at Lush to restock, and continued on to
Leicester Square, where we sat in the sun and enjoyed the beautiful day
until it was time to meet Barbara at YMing. The folks there remembered us
and were very friendly and we had a wonderful lunch of all of our favorites.
After lunch we went up Shaftsbury to the Lyric Theatre to see Sir Ian
McKellan starring in August Strindberg's _Dance of Death_. The play is
somewhat grueling--three characters stuck in a web of angst and deceit--but
it was a very strong production and well worth seeing.
Barbara went off to find her date for the evening--she says she hasn't
bought herself dinner in months--and we braved the newly re-opened Circle
line to Bank, where we caught the Docklands Light Rail out to Greenwich.
Claudia is leaving England for San Francisco--where Jim will join her in a
few months--so they had invited some people round to a local pub to hang out
and catch up. The place was very crowded, but we managed to find a spot and
have fun meeting some of their friends and chatting with them. Leaving
there after a couple of hours, we had a quick dinner at Pizza Express and
then went back to Bank to find our car. With the market done for the day,
there was easy parking available on Barbara's street, and we were home and
asleep again by midnight.
This morning we set out to fill in another of the blanks in our London
tourism: The Theatre Museum. A subsidiary of the V&A, it is located right
next to Covent Garden. Their main galleries have a wealth of interesting
exhibits ranging from a history of the theatre in England to a tribute to
Paul Robeson and a wonderful "Page to Stage" exhibit about a production of
_The Wind in the Willows_. The special exhibit at the moment is of about
twenty different sculptures of carved wooden figures and clockwork
mechanisms that move in mad, but compelling ways. Not having net access at
the moment, I can't look up the URL, but I encourage you to check the
museum's website for information about this exhibit. Our time there was too
short, but we needed to get back, so we ran down to the Strand and caught
the bus back to Barbara's. Leah had just arrived and we all chopped and
nibbled as Barbara prepared a lovely luncheon of poached salmon with a wild
rice risotto and salad made from wonderfully fresh veggies--one of the
advantages of living just off Portobello Road. One of her beaux, Stephen,
joined us for lunch--he runs a software company doing 3D rendering and works
as a volunteer policeman on the side. We had interesting conversation and a
delightful meal and were sorry when the time came for us to get on the
road.
With very little traffic to impede our progress, we made it to Oxford in
about an hour. By the time we checked in it was clear to me that I was
coming down with something--we'd both woken with scratchy throats, which we
attributed to the evening in smoky pub, but now I was sniffly and achy on
top of it. So I napped heavily while Jason went down to the lobby to hang
out with some of the other people here for his meeting. They were heading
out to find dinner at a pub, but Jason decided to stay here and we got soup
and sandwiches in the hotel lounge. The hotel is quite nice, although its
setting, in a rest-stop off the motorway outside Oxford, leaves something to
be desired. Fortunately there's a shuttle into town every ten minutes, so
I should be able to go exploring fairly easily while Jason is absorbed by
the meeting.
PART II
Well, _Maid in Manhattan_ has ended and Jason's done writing up his meeting
notes, so it's my turn to use the laptop as we fly across Newfoundland on
our way back to Boston.
After spending all of Monday in the hotel, sleeping off my cold, I felt well
enough to take the bus into Oxford on Tuesday. I wandered down to the
Magdalen (pronounced "maudlin") Bridge over the Cherwell River and spent an
hour exploring the walks and glasshouses of the Botanic Gardens. It was a
lovely day and nice to feel the sun. Magdalen College was open to visitors,
so I peeked into their chapel and wandered around the cloister and hall for
a few minutes. Walking back up to Broad Street, I noticed the Museum of the
History of Science and popped in there to see their special exhibit on 18th
century clocks, as well as their permanent collection of scientific
instruments of the ages. If you've got a thing for astrolabes, this is the
place for you. Continuing over to the Ashmolean, I spent the hour before
closing revisiting their pre-Raphaelites and checking out the remnants of
the Tradescant Collection of artifacts (including Powhatan's cloak) that was
the basis for the museum. One of my favorite things about the Ashmolean is
that the staff there are called "invigilators," rather than "guards" or
"docents." When the bell rang I took to the streets again and after a
pleasant hour in Waterstone's, I met up with Jason. We went for a walk on
the grounds of Merton College and then had a quiet meal at Zizzi, one of the
several pizza-and-pasta chains represented nearby.
I had very good luck with reading material this week. I managed to get
through _Catch Me If You Can_ (a very fun and interesting read), _The Virgin
Blue_ (the first novel by Tracy Chevalier of _Girl with Pearl Earring_
fame), and _The Year of Wonders_ (Geraldine Brooks' first novel, a
fascinating character study set amid a 17th century village struggling with
the Plague), in addition to enough movie magazines to make me feel as though
I've actually seen the spring slate of films in its entirety.
On Wednesday I got very brave and headed out into the English wilderness
alone. I turned off the motorway onto a two-lane country road, then turned
off that onto a one-lane farm road that wound through tiny villages of
blonde Cotswold stone. Shortly after turning off that onto a dirt track
along the Thames that quickly petered out at a wide spot by a gate into the
fields, I decided that I'd probably made a wrong turn. Fortunately, my
error wasn't far back--just at the point where the pavement ended,
actually--and it was there I found Kelmscott Manor, the country home of
William Morris. I spent an hour exploring the house with the help of the
very kind and knowledgeable docents. Besides many of the original
furnishings and hangings designed by Morris and his daughter, May, and often
embroidered by his wife, Janey, there are drawings and paintings by Edward
Burne-Jones and Dante Rossetti and a lovely painting by Brughel the Younger
over the mantlepiece. The house is only open on Wednesdays, so I felt very
lucky to have the timing be convenient.
Leaving Kelmscott, I headed toward Uffington and its famous White Horse.
The weather took a sudden turn for the bleak and it was entirely cloudy as I
headed across the fields from the carpark toward the hill-carving. Then it
began to hail--just a little--but I continued my trek. My head began to
ache from the fierce wind and my nose was running like a faucet, but still I
persevered. Finally, I reached the summit of the hill and looked down on
the 5000 year-old outline of a horse created in chalk on this blustery
English hillside. Feeling intrepid, I popped round the hill to Uffington
Castle, the vast circle of overgrown ramparts that mark where an Iron Age
hillfort once commanded the surrounding area. Then I hightailed it back to
the car! Of course, about a mile down the road it was perfectly sunny
again as I drove back to the hotel.
I had a short nap and a lovely massage in the health club attached to the
hotel, and then joined Jason for drinks and nibblies with the rest of the
committee when their meeting let out for the evening. We ended up going
with a large group of the guys to a pub described as "just down the road."
The beer was warm and watery, the food dry and bland, the atmosphere loud
and smoky, and the seats uncomfortable, but it was fun to hang out with the
geeks and catch up a bit with them. Just as we were leaving, Dave arrived
with the just-landed Luann and while we had to disappoint their hopes of
food--the pub stops serving at 9pm--it was fun to walk back with them and
confirm our plans for the next day.
Luann wasn't entirely awake at breakfast--and it was snowing--but she gamely
piled into the car with me and we headed off to Blenheim Palace. The palace
was built by the first Duke of Marlborough and his wife, Sarah, after Queen
Anne granted them land, title and money following his great victory at
Blenheim in the Wars of Spanish Succession. Although he never lived there,
Winston Churchill was born at the palace (his father was a second son of the
family) and had a lifelong connection with the place, detailed in an
exhibition. We toured the vast and impressive state rooms, learned some of
the family history--there are several American connections, as the 9th Duke
married Consuelo Vanderbilt and the current Duke's second wife was Tina
Onassis--and got to meet the butler, who explained to us that only the
nouveau riche use fishknives, since Queen Mary banished them from the tables
of the aristocracy. We had the luck to be there the week that the private
rooms opened to visitors, as the family is not currently in residence, so we
were able to see those, as well. While still very fine, these rooms are
certainly less formal than the more public spaces and have more personal
touches like the pig-shaped cookie jar on a dressing table, the pillows made
for the current Duchess by her daughters, or the very 1960's ceramic frogs
on a mantlepiece between snapshots of Cousin Winston. By the time we
finished the tour, it was time for lunch, so we had a nice meal in the cafe
and sampled the Blenheim brand mineral water and ice cream--they also make
wine and honey and have very prominent herds of sheep. We were sorry that
it was such a cold and gloomy day--although the snow had stopped--but the
thought of wandering in the gardens or exploring the maze was just too
chilling, so we hopped in the car and went on down the road.
We'd both been intrigued by mention of the Rollright Stone Circle near Great
Tew, so we headed in that direction. Finding it was a bit of a trick. We
drove right past it, but there was no sign. We realized we'd overshot, so I
pulled in at a convenient pub and sent in Luann. She made her way through a
dark and deserted maze to the actual bar, where the proprietor greeted her
with the words "You'll be needing directions, then?" Armed with better
information, we backtracked and found the layby in which to park. Over the
road was a tall stone, fenced around, in the middle of a field, so we
crossed the road and tramped through the field, sure there'd be a circle of
standing stones just over the rise. Nope. We turned back to the single
stone, and just as we reached it we noticed a small circle of stones--like a
firepit--immediately in front of it. Not the one. From the big stone,
there was an actual path back to the road and a stile--Luann's first. As we
came over that, we saw another couple coming out of a gate on the opposite
side of the road, down a bit from our cars. Nodding at them as we passed,
we went through the unmarked gate and were confronted by a sign explaining
that we were now on Trust land and therefore owed 50p each. We happily
dropped them into the box on the shed next to signs explaining what we know
of the circle and giving directions to other nearby parts of the standing
stone complex, including the "king stone" in the field over the road, which
we were further warned to approach only by the path, since the field
itself--the one we'd just tramped around in profligately--is a protected
habitat for endangered ground-nesting birds. Turning away from this proof
of our delinquency, we finally approached the Rollright Stones. They
wouldn't, actually--roll right, that is--but it is a somehow magical circle
of over seventy pocked and lichened stones, ranging in size up to about five
feet, surrounded by daffodills in the intense green of an English
spring. Did I mention it was raining?
Back in the car we cast about for our next destination. Luann had never
visited Stratford--just a few miles further down the road--so we went
there. We parked the car and strolled past Shakespeare's birthplace and the
various other monuments of the town, then headed back to the hotel to
collect our husbands. Jason had gotten a recommendation for a French and
Indian restaurant in Summertown--a suburb of Oxford--so we found our way
there. Luann and I had French (goat cheese salads, steaks--lamb for her and
beef for me--and tarts) while Jason and David shared an Indian feast (okra,
venison, lamb saag, and a mixed vegetable dish). The service was decidedly
spotty--they brought me white wine instead of red and lamb instead of
beef--but the errors were corrected with a minimum of fuss and the food was
fine. Back in our hotel room we ended up getting sucked into _The Patriot_
on TV, which had at least two good moments.
On Friday morning I packed up after breakfast while Jason finished up his
meeting and then we went back into London. We dropped off our Vauxhall
Vectra--very cool, it can be either manual or automatic, as you choose--and
took the tube across the river to check in at the London Bridge Hotel.
After dropping our bags and grabbing a quick lunch, we went a few blocks
over to see our accountant about our taxes and then popped round to our bank
to close our remaining UK accounts. Business attended to, we had a brief
lie-down, then strolled down the Thames to the Royal Festival Hall for
dinner at Jason's favorite, The People's Palace. They had changed their
menu substantially, so we forced to try new things. I started with an
oxtail broth which was intense, though saltier than even I would prefer.
The veal cutlet that followed was very good, but the flavors of the
demiglace accompanying it were too similar to the broth and I wished that
I had gone for higher contrast. Jason's stilton and onion tart made a
wonderfully creamy and flavorful starter without being overwhelming, and his
lamb rump was tender and beautifully done. We were both too full for
dessert, although the menu was very tempting.
In the morning we tried the hotel's continental breakfast buffet--it was
fine, but we missed the eggs and bacon that were standard fare in Oxford.
Running slightly late, we dashed for the Victoria & Albert and our timeslot
into the special exhibit on Art Deco. That was marvelous. Tracing the
roots of the movement, it focused on the beginnings of Art Deco in Europe,
before moving to the later, streamlined power of the American designers.
The curatorial notes were illuminating, the objects on display were
beautiful and the complementary media--a clip of Josephine Baker's "Danse
Sauvage" and a montage from _The Gay Divorcee_--were fun. Sadly, the design
of the exhibit obviously underestimated its popularity and exacerbated the
sense of crowding. Nevertheless, we were very glad to have had the
opportunity to see it.
>From there we walked up to Holland Park. It was a warm, sunny day and it
was nice to be out in it. We had a nice visit to Leighton House, the former
home of Frederic, Lord Leighton. His collections were auctioned off after
his death, but the house has been largely restored and its central foyer,
lined with Arabic tiles he collected, is a fantastic place that reminded us
of the Casa Pilatos in Seville. They do have many studies and a few
larger pieces by Lord Leighton, as well as by some of his contemporaries and
friends, including Burne-Jones and Millais. The exhibition space adjoining
the house was showing a collection of black & white images of
St. Petersburg.
Leaving there we encountered some difficulty in continuing our
travels--there was an anti-war demonstration happening in Hyde Park causing
busses to be turned back at Queen's Gate, throwing us onto the mercy of the
Circle & District lines, which are erratic due to engineering works--but
eventually we made it over to the Leicester Square area. We had lunch at
YMing again--just couldn't resist--and then went to the London Transport
Museum, another hole in our London tourism. We had fun learning a bit more
about the history and workings of the system we've so enjoyed using, but by
the time we finished there, I was pretty well knackered. We went back to
the hotel and had a much needed rest before heading back up to Tottenham
Court Road to meet Barbara. We went to see _Far from Heaven_, a beautiful
and incredibly well-done film, and then grabbed a supper of pizza and pasta
at a Bella Pasta down in Leicester Square. We hugged Barbara goodbye, saw
her into a taxi and headed back to the hotel.
On our last morning we slept a bit late, grabbed a bite to eat, checked out
and left our bags with the concierge. We went down to Shakespeare's Globe
to see their exhibition and have a tour of the theatre. We were somewhat
disappointed that the tour only covered the front of the house, but our
guide was good and we were very glad to see the exhibition at last. The
highlight was the opportunity to hear recordings of a wide variety of famous
Shakespearean actors--from Henry Irving to Kenneth Brannagh--performing the
soliloquy from Hamlet. We had a tasty lunch--chicken & mushroom broth with
pearl barley, a chicken Caesar with bacon and anchovies, and a chicken &
avocado sandwich on foccacia--in the Globe Cafe, then walked across the
Millennium Bridge to St. Paul's. Jason had never been inside, and due to
renovation works it's currently free, so we wandered around for a while
there before heading back toward the hotel to collect our bags. We had
planned to be on the tube by 4pm and as the train pulled up the clock read
"16:01" so we thought we were doing very well. We made it to Heathrow
easily, checked in and went through security with very little delay, and
then spent an hour shopping in the duty free lounge before boarding our
flight.
It was really wonderful to be back in England. It still feels so
comfortable and familiar, without having lost any of its charm and
fascination for us. It was great to see Barbara and Claudia & Jim and to
spend time with the C++ folks--and Jason seemed to have a reasonably good
meeting. We're looking forward to getting home--less than an hour to
go--but it's been a really good trip.
PS: We did make it back to Boston smoothly. Apparently there was a medical
emergency of some sort in one of the forward cabins--they took an older
woman off on a stretcher, which meant a wait of about ten minutes for the
rest of us before getting off the plane. We zoomed through immigration,
grabbed our bags and breezed through customs. Beckie & Neil were waiting in
the arrival lounge. They brought us home, with a quick stop for take-away
en route. And now it's time for bed!
After a quick four days at home, we got in a cab at 4:30am on Friday morning
and headed off to London again. The weather was terrible--freezing rain
mixed with snow, but it had cleared by the time we were due to depart.
Having stayed up until then, we slept fairly solidly on the flight--I wasn't
actually aware of taking off. We arrived just a few minutes late and
breezed through Heathrow and onto the Express train to Paddington, where we
could catch a bus to Barbara's place, just off Portobello Road. She
welcomed us and whipped up salad and a spinach quiche, which we enjoyed
before falling into bed. She and her place are both looking fabulous and
she is very happy with how things in her life are going.
On Saturday we went down to King's Cross to pick up our rental car and then
took it over to Bank, where we found legal onstreet parking that would be
free in a couple of hours, so we fed the meter and left the car to its own
recognizance. We made our way up to Holborn and visited the Sir John Soane
museum, which Jason had not previously seen. From there we wandered through
Covent Garden, made a quick stop at Lush to restock, and continued on to
Leicester Square, where we sat in the sun and enjoyed the beautiful day
until it was time to meet Barbara at YMing. The folks there remembered us
and were very friendly and we had a wonderful lunch of all of our favorites.
After lunch we went up Shaftsbury to the Lyric Theatre to see Sir Ian
McKellan starring in August Strindberg's _Dance of Death_. The play is
somewhat grueling--three characters stuck in a web of angst and deceit--but
it was a very strong production and well worth seeing.
Barbara went off to find her date for the evening--she says she hasn't
bought herself dinner in months--and we braved the newly re-opened Circle
line to Bank, where we caught the Docklands Light Rail out to Greenwich.
Claudia is leaving England for San Francisco--where Jim will join her in a
few months--so they had invited some people round to a local pub to hang out
and catch up. The place was very crowded, but we managed to find a spot and
have fun meeting some of their friends and chatting with them. Leaving
there after a couple of hours, we had a quick dinner at Pizza Express and
then went back to Bank to find our car. With the market done for the day,
there was easy parking available on Barbara's street, and we were home and
asleep again by midnight.
This morning we set out to fill in another of the blanks in our London
tourism: The Theatre Museum. A subsidiary of the V&A, it is located right
next to Covent Garden. Their main galleries have a wealth of interesting
exhibits ranging from a history of the theatre in England to a tribute to
Paul Robeson and a wonderful "Page to Stage" exhibit about a production of
_The Wind in the Willows_. The special exhibit at the moment is of about
twenty different sculptures of carved wooden figures and clockwork
mechanisms that move in mad, but compelling ways. Not having net access at
the moment, I can't look up the URL, but I encourage you to check the
museum's website for information about this exhibit. Our time there was too
short, but we needed to get back, so we ran down to the Strand and caught
the bus back to Barbara's. Leah had just arrived and we all chopped and
nibbled as Barbara prepared a lovely luncheon of poached salmon with a wild
rice risotto and salad made from wonderfully fresh veggies--one of the
advantages of living just off Portobello Road. One of her beaux, Stephen,
joined us for lunch--he runs a software company doing 3D rendering and works
as a volunteer policeman on the side. We had interesting conversation and a
delightful meal and were sorry when the time came for us to get on the
road.
With very little traffic to impede our progress, we made it to Oxford in
about an hour. By the time we checked in it was clear to me that I was
coming down with something--we'd both woken with scratchy throats, which we
attributed to the evening in smoky pub, but now I was sniffly and achy on
top of it. So I napped heavily while Jason went down to the lobby to hang
out with some of the other people here for his meeting. They were heading
out to find dinner at a pub, but Jason decided to stay here and we got soup
and sandwiches in the hotel lounge. The hotel is quite nice, although its
setting, in a rest-stop off the motorway outside Oxford, leaves something to
be desired. Fortunately there's a shuttle into town every ten minutes, so
I should be able to go exploring fairly easily while Jason is absorbed by
the meeting.
PART II
Well, _Maid in Manhattan_ has ended and Jason's done writing up his meeting
notes, so it's my turn to use the laptop as we fly across Newfoundland on
our way back to Boston.
After spending all of Monday in the hotel, sleeping off my cold, I felt well
enough to take the bus into Oxford on Tuesday. I wandered down to the
Magdalen (pronounced "maudlin") Bridge over the Cherwell River and spent an
hour exploring the walks and glasshouses of the Botanic Gardens. It was a
lovely day and nice to feel the sun. Magdalen College was open to visitors,
so I peeked into their chapel and wandered around the cloister and hall for
a few minutes. Walking back up to Broad Street, I noticed the Museum of the
History of Science and popped in there to see their special exhibit on 18th
century clocks, as well as their permanent collection of scientific
instruments of the ages. If you've got a thing for astrolabes, this is the
place for you. Continuing over to the Ashmolean, I spent the hour before
closing revisiting their pre-Raphaelites and checking out the remnants of
the Tradescant Collection of artifacts (including Powhatan's cloak) that was
the basis for the museum. One of my favorite things about the Ashmolean is
that the staff there are called "invigilators," rather than "guards" or
"docents." When the bell rang I took to the streets again and after a
pleasant hour in Waterstone's, I met up with Jason. We went for a walk on
the grounds of Merton College and then had a quiet meal at Zizzi, one of the
several pizza-and-pasta chains represented nearby.
I had very good luck with reading material this week. I managed to get
through _Catch Me If You Can_ (a very fun and interesting read), _The Virgin
Blue_ (the first novel by Tracy Chevalier of _Girl with Pearl Earring_
fame), and _The Year of Wonders_ (Geraldine Brooks' first novel, a
fascinating character study set amid a 17th century village struggling with
the Plague), in addition to enough movie magazines to make me feel as though
I've actually seen the spring slate of films in its entirety.
On Wednesday I got very brave and headed out into the English wilderness
alone. I turned off the motorway onto a two-lane country road, then turned
off that onto a one-lane farm road that wound through tiny villages of
blonde Cotswold stone. Shortly after turning off that onto a dirt track
along the Thames that quickly petered out at a wide spot by a gate into the
fields, I decided that I'd probably made a wrong turn. Fortunately, my
error wasn't far back--just at the point where the pavement ended,
actually--and it was there I found Kelmscott Manor, the country home of
William Morris. I spent an hour exploring the house with the help of the
very kind and knowledgeable docents. Besides many of the original
furnishings and hangings designed by Morris and his daughter, May, and often
embroidered by his wife, Janey, there are drawings and paintings by Edward
Burne-Jones and Dante Rossetti and a lovely painting by Brughel the Younger
over the mantlepiece. The house is only open on Wednesdays, so I felt very
lucky to have the timing be convenient.
Leaving Kelmscott, I headed toward Uffington and its famous White Horse.
The weather took a sudden turn for the bleak and it was entirely cloudy as I
headed across the fields from the carpark toward the hill-carving. Then it
began to hail--just a little--but I continued my trek. My head began to
ache from the fierce wind and my nose was running like a faucet, but still I
persevered. Finally, I reached the summit of the hill and looked down on
the 5000 year-old outline of a horse created in chalk on this blustery
English hillside. Feeling intrepid, I popped round the hill to Uffington
Castle, the vast circle of overgrown ramparts that mark where an Iron Age
hillfort once commanded the surrounding area. Then I hightailed it back to
the car! Of course, about a mile down the road it was perfectly sunny
again as I drove back to the hotel.
I had a short nap and a lovely massage in the health club attached to the
hotel, and then joined Jason for drinks and nibblies with the rest of the
committee when their meeting let out for the evening. We ended up going
with a large group of the guys to a pub described as "just down the road."
The beer was warm and watery, the food dry and bland, the atmosphere loud
and smoky, and the seats uncomfortable, but it was fun to hang out with the
geeks and catch up a bit with them. Just as we were leaving, Dave arrived
with the just-landed Luann and while we had to disappoint their hopes of
food--the pub stops serving at 9pm--it was fun to walk back with them and
confirm our plans for the next day.
Luann wasn't entirely awake at breakfast--and it was snowing--but she gamely
piled into the car with me and we headed off to Blenheim Palace. The palace
was built by the first Duke of Marlborough and his wife, Sarah, after Queen
Anne granted them land, title and money following his great victory at
Blenheim in the Wars of Spanish Succession. Although he never lived there,
Winston Churchill was born at the palace (his father was a second son of the
family) and had a lifelong connection with the place, detailed in an
exhibition. We toured the vast and impressive state rooms, learned some of
the family history--there are several American connections, as the 9th Duke
married Consuelo Vanderbilt and the current Duke's second wife was Tina
Onassis--and got to meet the butler, who explained to us that only the
nouveau riche use fishknives, since Queen Mary banished them from the tables
of the aristocracy. We had the luck to be there the week that the private
rooms opened to visitors, as the family is not currently in residence, so we
were able to see those, as well. While still very fine, these rooms are
certainly less formal than the more public spaces and have more personal
touches like the pig-shaped cookie jar on a dressing table, the pillows made
for the current Duchess by her daughters, or the very 1960's ceramic frogs
on a mantlepiece between snapshots of Cousin Winston. By the time we
finished the tour, it was time for lunch, so we had a nice meal in the cafe
and sampled the Blenheim brand mineral water and ice cream--they also make
wine and honey and have very prominent herds of sheep. We were sorry that
it was such a cold and gloomy day--although the snow had stopped--but the
thought of wandering in the gardens or exploring the maze was just too
chilling, so we hopped in the car and went on down the road.
We'd both been intrigued by mention of the Rollright Stone Circle near Great
Tew, so we headed in that direction. Finding it was a bit of a trick. We
drove right past it, but there was no sign. We realized we'd overshot, so I
pulled in at a convenient pub and sent in Luann. She made her way through a
dark and deserted maze to the actual bar, where the proprietor greeted her
with the words "You'll be needing directions, then?" Armed with better
information, we backtracked and found the layby in which to park. Over the
road was a tall stone, fenced around, in the middle of a field, so we
crossed the road and tramped through the field, sure there'd be a circle of
standing stones just over the rise. Nope. We turned back to the single
stone, and just as we reached it we noticed a small circle of stones--like a
firepit--immediately in front of it. Not the one. From the big stone,
there was an actual path back to the road and a stile--Luann's first. As we
came over that, we saw another couple coming out of a gate on the opposite
side of the road, down a bit from our cars. Nodding at them as we passed,
we went through the unmarked gate and were confronted by a sign explaining
that we were now on Trust land and therefore owed 50p each. We happily
dropped them into the box on the shed next to signs explaining what we know
of the circle and giving directions to other nearby parts of the standing
stone complex, including the "king stone" in the field over the road, which
we were further warned to approach only by the path, since the field
itself--the one we'd just tramped around in profligately--is a protected
habitat for endangered ground-nesting birds. Turning away from this proof
of our delinquency, we finally approached the Rollright Stones. They
wouldn't, actually--roll right, that is--but it is a somehow magical circle
of over seventy pocked and lichened stones, ranging in size up to about five
feet, surrounded by daffodills in the intense green of an English
spring. Did I mention it was raining?
Back in the car we cast about for our next destination. Luann had never
visited Stratford--just a few miles further down the road--so we went
there. We parked the car and strolled past Shakespeare's birthplace and the
various other monuments of the town, then headed back to the hotel to
collect our husbands. Jason had gotten a recommendation for a French and
Indian restaurant in Summertown--a suburb of Oxford--so we found our way
there. Luann and I had French (goat cheese salads, steaks--lamb for her and
beef for me--and tarts) while Jason and David shared an Indian feast (okra,
venison, lamb saag, and a mixed vegetable dish). The service was decidedly
spotty--they brought me white wine instead of red and lamb instead of
beef--but the errors were corrected with a minimum of fuss and the food was
fine. Back in our hotel room we ended up getting sucked into _The Patriot_
on TV, which had at least two good moments.
On Friday morning I packed up after breakfast while Jason finished up his
meeting and then we went back into London. We dropped off our Vauxhall
Vectra--very cool, it can be either manual or automatic, as you choose--and
took the tube across the river to check in at the London Bridge Hotel.
After dropping our bags and grabbing a quick lunch, we went a few blocks
over to see our accountant about our taxes and then popped round to our bank
to close our remaining UK accounts. Business attended to, we had a brief
lie-down, then strolled down the Thames to the Royal Festival Hall for
dinner at Jason's favorite, The People's Palace. They had changed their
menu substantially, so we forced to try new things. I started with an
oxtail broth which was intense, though saltier than even I would prefer.
The veal cutlet that followed was very good, but the flavors of the
demiglace accompanying it were too similar to the broth and I wished that
I had gone for higher contrast. Jason's stilton and onion tart made a
wonderfully creamy and flavorful starter without being overwhelming, and his
lamb rump was tender and beautifully done. We were both too full for
dessert, although the menu was very tempting.
In the morning we tried the hotel's continental breakfast buffet--it was
fine, but we missed the eggs and bacon that were standard fare in Oxford.
Running slightly late, we dashed for the Victoria & Albert and our timeslot
into the special exhibit on Art Deco. That was marvelous. Tracing the
roots of the movement, it focused on the beginnings of Art Deco in Europe,
before moving to the later, streamlined power of the American designers.
The curatorial notes were illuminating, the objects on display were
beautiful and the complementary media--a clip of Josephine Baker's "Danse
Sauvage" and a montage from _The Gay Divorcee_--were fun. Sadly, the design
of the exhibit obviously underestimated its popularity and exacerbated the
sense of crowding. Nevertheless, we were very glad to have had the
opportunity to see it.
>From there we walked up to Holland Park. It was a warm, sunny day and it
was nice to be out in it. We had a nice visit to Leighton House, the former
home of Frederic, Lord Leighton. His collections were auctioned off after
his death, but the house has been largely restored and its central foyer,
lined with Arabic tiles he collected, is a fantastic place that reminded us
of the Casa Pilatos in Seville. They do have many studies and a few
larger pieces by Lord Leighton, as well as by some of his contemporaries and
friends, including Burne-Jones and Millais. The exhibition space adjoining
the house was showing a collection of black & white images of
St. Petersburg.
Leaving there we encountered some difficulty in continuing our
travels--there was an anti-war demonstration happening in Hyde Park causing
busses to be turned back at Queen's Gate, throwing us onto the mercy of the
Circle & District lines, which are erratic due to engineering works--but
eventually we made it over to the Leicester Square area. We had lunch at
YMing again--just couldn't resist--and then went to the London Transport
Museum, another hole in our London tourism. We had fun learning a bit more
about the history and workings of the system we've so enjoyed using, but by
the time we finished there, I was pretty well knackered. We went back to
the hotel and had a much needed rest before heading back up to Tottenham
Court Road to meet Barbara. We went to see _Far from Heaven_, a beautiful
and incredibly well-done film, and then grabbed a supper of pizza and pasta
at a Bella Pasta down in Leicester Square. We hugged Barbara goodbye, saw
her into a taxi and headed back to the hotel.
On our last morning we slept a bit late, grabbed a bite to eat, checked out
and left our bags with the concierge. We went down to Shakespeare's Globe
to see their exhibition and have a tour of the theatre. We were somewhat
disappointed that the tour only covered the front of the house, but our
guide was good and we were very glad to see the exhibition at last. The
highlight was the opportunity to hear recordings of a wide variety of famous
Shakespearean actors--from Henry Irving to Kenneth Brannagh--performing the
soliloquy from Hamlet. We had a tasty lunch--chicken & mushroom broth with
pearl barley, a chicken Caesar with bacon and anchovies, and a chicken &
avocado sandwich on foccacia--in the Globe Cafe, then walked across the
Millennium Bridge to St. Paul's. Jason had never been inside, and due to
renovation works it's currently free, so we wandered around for a while
there before heading back toward the hotel to collect our bags. We had
planned to be on the tube by 4pm and as the train pulled up the clock read
"16:01" so we thought we were doing very well. We made it to Heathrow
easily, checked in and went through security with very little delay, and
then spent an hour shopping in the duty free lounge before boarding our
flight.
It was really wonderful to be back in England. It still feels so
comfortable and familiar, without having lost any of its charm and
fascination for us. It was great to see Barbara and Claudia & Jim and to
spend time with the C++ folks--and Jason seemed to have a reasonably good
meeting. We're looking forward to getting home--less than an hour to
go--but it's been a really good trip.
PS: We did make it back to Boston smoothly. Apparently there was a medical
emergency of some sort in one of the forward cabins--they took an older
woman off on a stretcher, which meant a wait of about ten minutes for the
rest of us before getting off the plane. We zoomed through immigration,
grabbed our bags and breezed through customs. Beckie & Neil were waiting in
the arrival lounge. They brought us home, with a quick stop for take-away
en route. And now it's time for bed!