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Uptodate
Tuesday. Arrive London.
Wednesday. Fleet Street, Strand, Charing Cross
Thursday, Old Kent Road, Tower, Whitechapel, Tate Modern
Friday (rain and cold) National Gallery, London Renegades Meetup
Saturday, Kings Cross, Angel, Euston Road, Pentonville Road.
I’m about two and a half days behind in my story. I’ll catch it up, but I might just make a progress report. After returning from Whitechapel midafternoon, I made release notes and then poked my nose into the Tate Modern rather than venture out in search of the slightly seedy Euston Road with darkness falling.
In hindsight, I’d probably have enjoyed Euston. Rarely have I been so disappointed in a famousgallery. A few nice Picassos, a couple of mouth-watering Mondrians, and a single brilliant Pollack were the only bright spots amongst halls hung with vast slabs of daub. I can’t say that carpet sized pieces of pretentious crap in plentiful profusion are likely to inspire me to anything beyond nausea, although perhaps that was the combination of jellied eels and licorice allsorts.
Friday was cold, rainy and windy. Snow was threatened by breathless weather buffoons on TV. It wasn’t quite that bad, but I spent most of the day inside, one way or another. The National Gallery was a delight after the Tate Modern. A room full of Rembrandts, a wall of Monets, a couple of John Singer Sergeants, including Lord Ribblesdale whom I had last seen in Canberra. I was sorry to leave, but the London Meetup beckoned, where I met the delightful Yokospungeon and four of her fellow Renegados, and rolled home into bed tired but happy.
Saturday morning was a long trip in search of Internet, followed by an even longer one in search of the light blues, which were duly found. “In Jail” eluded me, but today (Sunday) I shall seek it out and maybe make a start on the next set. Apart from the stations, it’s all pretty much in the West End from now on.
Wednesday. Fleet Street, Strand, Charing Cross
Thursday, Old Kent Road, Tower, Whitechapel, Tate Modern
Friday (rain and cold) National Gallery, London Renegades Meetup
Saturday, Kings Cross, Angel, Euston Road, Pentonville Road.
I’m about two and a half days behind in my story. I’ll catch it up, but I might just make a progress report. After returning from Whitechapel midafternoon, I made release notes and then poked my nose into the Tate Modern rather than venture out in search of the slightly seedy Euston Road with darkness falling.
In hindsight, I’d probably have enjoyed Euston. Rarely have I been so disappointed in a famousgallery. A few nice Picassos, a couple of mouth-watering Mondrians, and a single brilliant Pollack were the only bright spots amongst halls hung with vast slabs of daub. I can’t say that carpet sized pieces of pretentious crap in plentiful profusion are likely to inspire me to anything beyond nausea, although perhaps that was the combination of jellied eels and licorice allsorts.
Friday was cold, rainy and windy. Snow was threatened by breathless weather buffoons on TV. It wasn’t quite that bad, but I spent most of the day inside, one way or another. The National Gallery was a delight after the Tate Modern. A room full of Rembrandts, a wall of Monets, a couple of John Singer Sergeants, including Lord Ribblesdale whom I had last seen in Canberra. I was sorry to leave, but the London Meetup beckoned, where I met the delightful Yokospungeon and four of her fellow Renegados, and rolled home into bed tired but happy.
Saturday morning was a long trip in search of Internet, followed by an even longer one in search of the light blues, which were duly found. “In Jail” eluded me, but today (Sunday) I shall seek it out and maybe make a start on the next set. Apart from the stations, it’s all pretty much in the West End from now on.