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Carfax and Christ Church College

Apr12

High Street:

After lunch, walk through Catte Street. You will find yourself back on the High Street where you will make a right, walking right past the Church of St. Mary the Virgin (below) .

Look up and take note of the Gothic spire of the church and continue to walk past the entrance to Turl Street at whose corner you will see The Mitre Inn, an old inn and restaurant, so-called because its logo is the pointed hat or mitre of the Anglican clergy. Walk right to the end of High Street to the corner where it intersects Cornmarket Street. Right ahead of you is the ancient Carfax Tower which is all that remains of the 14th century Church of St. Martin that was demolished in 1896 so that all roads could be widened. If you are there at the quarter hour, you will hear the clock chiming and see the two doll-like figures on the clock move in time to the chimes. The architecture of the buildings where four major streets meet—Cornmarket Street, Queen Street, St. Aldates Street and the High Street—is particularly striking because it combines several different styles including medieval and Gothic.

Christ Church College:

Turn left on St. Aldates and walk past the Oxford Town Hall on your left. Right ahead of you is Tom Tower which together with two ancillary towers flanking it forms part of the exterior of one of Oxford’s most famous colleges— Christ Church College. You make pay an admissions fee of three pounds to tour the college premises in their entirety—a tour that will permit you to walk around Tom Quad, Oxford’s largest, and the cloisters, visit the chapel which is considered Oxford’s Cathedral and the ornate Great Tudor Dining Hall which was the inspiration for the Dining Hall at Hogwarth’s, the School for Wizards, in the Harry Potter films. Should you choose to visit only one college on your visit, this might be an excellent choice.

Built by Cardinal Wolsey and founded by King Henry VIII (he of the six wives) Christ Church dates from 1525 when it was intended to be an ecclesiastical college for the training of Cardinals. The upper part of the Quad was built by Wren in 1682. During the Civil war, Tom Quad was commandeered as a cattle pen by Royalist supporters of King Charles I. When its bell, “Great Tom” was hung in 1648, the college had 101 students which is why the bell is rung 101 times at 9.05 pm to mark the curfew for students which has not, however, been enforced since 1963. The odd timing is because night falls at Oxford five minutes later than it does at Greenwich. If you have seen the film Chariots of Fire, you will recognize this quad as being the scene of the race run by the students to determine who is the fastest athlete among them based on the number of rounds of the cloisters they are able to complete before the chimes stop at 101.

Christ Church College  (left) has produced 16 British Prime Ministers in the last 200 years and is proud of its alumnus Lewis Carol who, while a Mathematics don at Christ Church, created the story of Alice in Wonderland while taking little Alice Liddel, daughter of the Master of Christ Church at the time, punting on the River Isis. Apart from this claim to fame, Christ Church was where Charles I held Parliament, where Queen Elizabeth I watched a play, where Charlie Chaplin came to dinner and where every table that has ever been in the Hall is still right there. In addition to the Chapel and the Dining Hall, there is also a Picture Gallery that contains an internationally important collection of Old Masters like Leonardo, Titian, Tintoretto, Van Dyke and Franz Hals.

If you decide not to visit the interior of the college, do take a quick glimpse of Tom Quad from the Porter’s Lodge (right). Then, walk a few steps ahead on St. Aldates. Across the street, you will see the Alice in Wonderland Shop that sells all kinds of merchandise associated with the novel and its author. Make a left on the Broad Walk . This leads you into Christ Church Memorial Gardens that were laid out in 1926 to commemorate college members who fell in World War I. This is a good place to pose for pictures especially in the summer when the perennial flower beds are in full bloom and make a breathtaking sight (below left). Walk past the gardens on your left and head straight for the vast expanse of the Meadows which you will see on your right hand side. Should you have the time, you can stroll right across the Meadows and get to the banks of the River Cherwell where you will see punters enjoying the pleasures of the waters.

If, however, you decide not to walk across Christ Church Meadows, you will need to retrace your steps and return to St. Aldates. Make a right after you exit the Memorial Gardens and walk by the main entrance of Christ Church College once again. A few steps ahead of you, make a right on to Blue Boar Street, a narrow alleyway that will lead you to a maze of very quaint streets.

Blue Boar Street:

At the corner of the first left intersection on Blue Boar Street  is Alfred Street, location of one of England’s oldest pubs called The Bear Inn. Without a right angle anywhere, the original tavern dates from 1242. Where this pub now stands, there was once an ostler’s house which provided accommodation for the stablemen of The Bear. The ostlers were employed to look after the horses of the visitors at the inn. In the 17th century, The Bear was a very fashionable coaching inn—imminent judges and royal commissioners stayed here, as did the heir to the throne of Denmark in 1652. What is most unusual about this very tiny and very dark pub is the vast collection of neck ties that line its walls and are enclosed in glass showcases. Since the early 1950s, many celebrities have ‘contributed’ their ties to the collection of 4,500 which are displayed on the walls and ceiling, in exchange for a pint of beer. Present day customers should note that this arrangement no longer applies!

After you have posed for pictures at this venerable inn or have decided to quaff a swift half inside, you proceed down Blue Boar Street. The street will curve slightly and intersect with Oriel Street on which you will make a right. The Quadrangle of Oriel College (right) is very small but very interesting and has been the setting for many televised series shot in Oxford.

As the street curves, you will make a right to enter Merton Walk which runs parallel to Merton College which being founded in 1264 is Oxford’s oldest. Right ahead of you, a few steps in front, you will see a small wrought-iron gate. Go through the gate to enter Dead Man’s Walk. On your right hand side is Merton Field, a lovely expanse of green lawn that presents one of the most peaceful vistas in all of Oxford.At the end of Dead Man’s Walk, just as you spy the charming cottage-like structures at the end of the street (above right). Make a left here on to Rose Lane. You will see the main entrance to Merton Collegeon your left hand side, while just ahead of you on your right hand side across Magdalen Bridge is Magdalen College Tower, a square structure that gives this area its very distinctive charm.

You are now walking right past the Oxford Botanical Garden on your right hand side. This is a very pretty part of the city, but just a few feet ahead of you, Rose Lane ends and intersects with The High. At this point, you may decide to turn right and pay the entry fee that permits admission into the Botanic Garden, Britain’s oldest, founded in 1621. One ancient yew tree survives from that period. The ornate entrance gates were designed by Nicolas Stone in 1633. If time permits, do consider strolling through the botanic gardens in which a vast number of rare plants, all clearly labeled, thrive. This is also a good spot from which you may rent a punt by the hour or for half a day. Punts, for the benefit of those who are not aware of this very unique river craft, are flat bottomed boats that are pushed along the river with the aid of a long staff that allows the punter to ‘row’ the boat forward. It represents the quintessential Oxford summer afternoon activity and is something that every visitor should experience. Like renting a gondola in Venice, it is something that is unique to this part of the world and, therefore, worth considering.

Back on The High:

If you decide not to visit the Botanic Gardens, your best bet is to make a left on High Street. You will pass the University Examination Hall on your left. This building which is closed to visitors is used exclusively for the taking of final exams at the end of each year by undergraduates and graduate students who wear the traditional black robes when sitting down to write them. A few feet ahead of you, also on your left is University College. Though this college might not be open to visitors during most of the day, do request the Porter at the Lodge to permit you to enter the Quad to see the Shelley Memorial.

You will enter by a nondescript doorway on you right. Just past a little stairway on your left is a truly exquisite pure white marble monument dedicated to Romantic poet Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822) who attended this college but was expelled after writing the revolutionary pamphlet, “The Necessity of Atheism”. Despite the disgrace that surrounded his departure, the college chose to claim him as a revered son following his rise to stardom. John Keats, my favorite poet, and Shelley’s close friend, was right when he proclaimed, “Fame is the food that dead men eat/ I have no stomach for such meat”. University College Quad is very pretty indeed especially when wisteria hangs in great purple grape-like bunches from the vines clinging to its stone walls.

Continue Walking Tour of Cornmarket, The High and St. Giles

Oxford

Apr12

A Walking Tour of Oxford

“Oh ye spires of Oxford! Domes and Towers! Gardens and Groves!

Your presence overpowers the soberness of Reason.”

(William Wordsworth, 1770-1850)

Oxford’s  High Street

The university town of Oxford in England is one of my favorite places on earth. My special memories as a student of this university make visiting it joyous at any time of year, but during spring, Matthew Arnold’s “City of Dreaming Spires” is exceptional. Indeed, the start of the season is celebrated with traditional singing on Magdalen (pronounced “maudlin”) Tower by the Magdalen College Choir on the morning of May Day. You could, of course, take one of the open-roofed city sight-seeing buses that would wind you around the main streets. Or you could come with me, map in hand, and walk at leisure through the streets I remember with such deep happiness that I want to cry out with exhilaration each time I return.

On my walking tour, I will take you to the colleges that make up this world-famous university as well as to the architectural landmarks that render this city unique. We will not get involved in the Town Versus Gown politics that have long riddled the city, but we will understand just how and why this place has earned such an exalted position on the academic map.

Since I am also a huge fan of the British detective writer Colin Dexter’s character Inspector Morse that evolved into a BBC TV series starring John Thaw as Chief Inspector Morse and Kevin Whately as his sidekick Sargent Lewis, I will point out locations associated with the making of this series that was set and shot entirely in Oxford and its surrounding towns. If you are familiar with the series, I have little doubt that you will recognize some of the settings yourself. It is my fervent hope that, by the end of our journey, I will have infused you with some of my own enthusiasm for Oxford and that you will leave this city vowing to return again and again…just as I have done at many different points in my life.

The city derived it name from an Old English word, “Oxenford” because it represented the shallowest point on the River Thames which rendered it safe for oxen to ford (or cross) the stream. In course of time, “Oxenford” became shortened to “Oxford”. This explains also the crest on the coat of arms of the city that depicts a pair of oxen and a river. Now that you know the history behind the name, you can make certain to spend some time on the riverbanks and imagine what this place might have looked like in 1167 when the first French scholars arrived in England to found a university on this site.

Click here to begin the Walking Tour of Oxford

Thames

Apr12

Two Days on the Thames

Barnes and Kew Gardens, Guildford and Kingston

On a Thames River barge with Hampton Court in the background

Few tourist guide books will tell you anything about the villages along the course of the River Thames that bear visiting. But having read about Putney and Barnes in my favorite decorating magazine The English Home, I resolved to explore this area over which an unhurried air still pervades. Still off the beaten track, these riversdie villages offer the adventurous rambler endless hours of serene exploration.

It is hard to believe that Barnes or Putney lie just a fifteen to twenty minute train ride outside the bustling city of London. These village communities  owe their development to the railroad that ,by the mid-nineteenth century, extended beyond the confines of the city, bringing in middle-class residents who quickly made such hamlets fashionable. Soon spacious homes rose upon the river front attracting the rich and the famous including composers like Gustav Holst and 18th century novelist Henry Fielding who wrote Tom Jones while living in Barnes’ Milbourne House.

A short South East train ride from Waterloo took me past Vauxhall to Putney and then to Barnes, setting for a Britcom called Fresh Fields that I had enjoyed on American TV for years. But White Horse Lane, supposedly the most interesting in terms of its interior decorating stores, could not be reached by foot. Local villagers recommended the bus which crossed Barnes Pond and Barnes Bridge (below left) across the River Thames, went past the smart waterfront homes that made up the street called The Terrace and finally took me to my destination. Be sure to have the correct change (one pound fifty pence) for the ticket you buy from the driver on the bus as most claim not to have change. On the bus, I spied Barnes Common, Green and Pond in which geese and ducks were being fed by delighted children. I could have sworn I had stepped into the 1950s when the world was a kinder, gentler place.

My interest in English interior design took me on foot to The Dining Room Shop and Tobias and the Angel which were full of expensive items that most tourists would shun. I did find a “Mushroom Brush”, however, in The Dining Room Shop and a great deal of assistance from the saleslady who actually did some research for me online to help me find my way by public transport to Syon House and Park, a massive country house and estate at Syon Lane train station that was built by architect Robert Adams on the river. This was supposed to be my next eager port of call. I discovered just in time, however,  that the place was closed that day, a Tuesday, which forced an impromptu change in my plans for the rest of the day.

Because the village was more widely spread than I expected, I could not really cover all of it on foot. I decided then to walk back to Barnes Bridge train station to wind on along the Thames to Kew.    So Kew Gardens  it was instead. The weather could not have cooperated better. Already having walked a couple of miles that morning, my feet had begun to protest but I pressed on, crossing Kew Bridge on foot and arriving at the hamlet of Kingston-Upon-Thames. Though I could have walked right into the main gates, I opted instead to take the Tow Path that ran alongside the Thames banks where a very friendly lady walking her dog, Darcy, kept me company. As we marched by the river banks, joyous birds sang lustily in the towering horse chestnuts that were in full bloom, presenting their spectacular white candle-like flowers for all the world to see. Also appearing in pink, though rarer, these flowering chestnut trees made such a marvelous sight throughout my spring stay in England.

It was quite a long walk before I reached the Brentford Gate at Kew Botanical Gardens and purchased a ticket for 16 pounds which included entry into London’s newest royal attraction, Kew Palace (left). But hunger pangs were rather insistent by this point and in the lovely white Victorian Orangery, I found sustenance in the form of ham and cheese sandwiches. Kew’s vastness is unfathomable and there was no way I could even scratch the surface, having already done a great deal of walking that day. My camera worked overtime as I couldn’t resist taking pictures of the lilacs that were blossoming in white and every purple shade from the softest lavender to the deepest mauve. Spring also brings out carpets of wild bluebells all over England and there were plenty at Kew. I couldn’t linger through lunch though as I had to get to the entrance of Kew Palace by 3 .00pm, the time stamped on my ticket, since the number of visitors to the house is carefully regulated to prevent overcrowding.

Kew Palace is the name given to the country home at Kew that was maintained and used by Mad King George III who is infamous both for his insanity (porphyria by today’s diagnosis) and for having lost the colonies in America. After his marriage to a German Princess named Charlotte, the couple converted Kew Palace into their summer home between the years 1800 and 1818. Together, they had 15 children and just one grandchild, little Charlotte (grandmother to Queen Victoria). The house lay in disuse for generations and has only very recently been restored, refurbished and
opened to the public. In fact, renovation is still progressing on the topmost floor, but those that are open to the public are a wonderful indication of the contrast that made up the simple austerity of the father King George III and the rampant extravagance of his son Prince Regent George IV (yes, the same one who constructed the Royal Pavilion at Brighton). In her memoirs, Queen Charlotte wrote very affectionately of her summers at Kew and as I roamed at leisure through the rooms, I imagined the happiness of this couple whose greatest joy lay in spending time with their children at Kew, playing cricket and crochet together on the front lawn and taking endless walks in the spectacular botanical gardens with their many ‘follies’ built in the form of pagodas, Grecian temples and mosques. I lingered for a long while in the Queen’s Gardens just behind the Palace where tall blue irises were striking in the midst of the herb beds and where bunches of yellow laburnum made graceful arched pergolas under which visitors strolled.

Though there was an Explorer mobile that could take visitors to the highlights of the park, I decided to discover a small part of Kew on my own two feet. In the Secluded Garden, close to the Princess of Wales Conservatory, I enjoyed the sight of some pretty unusual trees such as an African Monkey Tree, a gingko biloa and a giant dogwood that was in awesome bloom much to the delight of the English visitors who had no idea what the tree was and were so taken by its flowers. I informed them very proudly that dogwoods are native to North America and that I had one blooming even as we spoke in my garden in Connecticut!

Next stop, Guildford, Surrey, home of my cousin Sybil Gonzalves. Another long local train ride that looped along the course of the River Thames, brought me to Woking where Sybil met me at the station and drove me to her lovely home called Wheelspin. Not having met Sybil for a few years (though we speak every so often on the phone), we had much to chatter about and decided to continue our conversation over dinner at a very exclusive country pub in Worplesdon called The Olive Tree. Though the “gastro-pub” offered a smart gourmet menu, we opted for traditional Pub Grub and enjoyed gigantic servings of Bangers with Caulifower Cheese and Roast Beef and Roast Pork with Bubble and Squeak. For dessert, we split another old traditional English offering—Bread and Butter Pudding, studded with raisins and served with warm custard, all washed down with foamy Guinness. This was pub grub to die for and we polished every last crumb because both of us had been starving.

Guildford is a very upscale London suburb and its shopping is just short of the kind of offerings one might find on Oxford Street—so its not surprising that Sybil took me shopping with her the next day to Guildford High Street where we browsed around Marks & Sparks, then got on to the motorway to head for Kingston-Upon-Thames where her brother Don lives with his wife Cissy. They were keen to have me spend one night with them at their home in Serbiton where after lunch, Cissy suggested a stroll on the river banks. Never one to resist a walk, I jumped up and found myself enjoying a charming Ladies Day Out with Sybil and Cissy. Because the day was so gorgeous, Sybil quite spontaneously suggested a river boat cruise on the Thames and, armed with ice-cream cones, we boarded the Tilbury Hope for 5 pounds each to make our way up the river (below right).

What a memorable experience that was! All along the way, we saw charming bird life. Geese, mallards and herons dotted the landscape uttering mating calls and frantically building nests for the spring season. The houses along the river were varied examples of English architecture from stylish Georgian manors to contemporary glass and concrete affairs. Cyclists and joggers were active along the river banks and as the boat’s paddles swished softly on the water, the magnificent roof lines of Hampton Court Palace came into view (below right) as we passed the gilded ornamental gates. I closed by eyes and imagined myself seated in the shoes of Tudor queens Anne Boleyn and  daughter Elizabeth I, as they made their way up river by ferry from the court at London to Hampton Court Palace each summer. Indeed I was thrilled by the exciting vistas of the Tudor buildings that they might have spied four centuries ago as the palace came into view.

Interestingly, Llew, Chriselle and I had visited Hampton Court Palace not even a year ago, when the previous August, we had spent one day in London en route to Eastern Europe. It was superb to get this perspective of the Palace (from the river bank) and I took several pictures of these views.

At the Hampton Court Ferry Stop, many passengers boarded the ferry and whereas we had the boat to ourselves on the way to the Palace, we shared it with several co-passengers on the return journey. Once again, on our way back, we were regaled by the antics of our wild feathered friends who kept us enthralled as they poked their heads out of sheltered coves or swooped close to the boat’s prow, much to the delight of the kids on the cruise.

Our boat ride on the Thames  (left) was followed by a spin around Kingston by car as Cissy was an able tour guide, proudly pointing out to me the landmarks of her little town. Later that evening, Don joined us for dinner at a restaurant on the riverfront called Restaurant Vegetaria where we settled for masala dosas and rather odd cider.

Visiting Kingston had not been on my agenda at all and it was the purely spontaneous nature of our riverside excursion matched by the superb weather that made the day one that will stick for long in my memory. I explored the Thames by river boat quite by accident, thanks to the sudden whim that seized my fellow-traveler.  It is just such delightful detours as these that make me realize that while planning is critical in any itinerary one undertakes, it is as Robert Frost put it so well, “the road not taken” that “makes all the difference”.

Bon Voyage!

Stratford-on-Avon

Apr12

Seeking out the Bard in Stratford-on-Avon

(The Almeida Family outside Shakespeare’s Birthplace

in Stratford-on-Avon)

Fans of theater, medieval buildings, glorious gardens and small-town ambience will find a lot to please them in the city of William Shakespeare’s birth. Daytrips from London offer tours of the main sights in this town which makesfor convenience but often deprives the visitor of the opportunity to see the city by nightfall. Whatever way to choose to arrive in Stratford-on-Avon, do try to get away as quickly as possible from the more crowded tourist quarters and find quiet corners in which you might contemplate the unassuming nature of a town that nurtured England’s greatest literary luminary and has made of it a pilgrimage center of sorts for everyone who has ever been struck by the greatness of his works.

You will, of course, do the mandatory rounds of Shakespearean homes. Of these, his birthplace is the most visited. Situated on a main street right in the heart of town, you can reach his home on foot when you alight at the bus-stop. Stop to notice the wonderful exposed beams and gables of this Tudor home. Though modest by contemporary standards, Shakespeare’s commercial success in the course of his lifetime permitted him to own property in London that was far more impressive. I particularly enjoyed taking in the sight of the low ceilings, the tiny rooms, the small leaded windows that characterize most Tudor homes and the massive fireplaces that were designed collectively to conserve heat. The quiet modesty of Tudor furnishing is also interesting including the little wooden cradle in which he might have been rocked as a babe.

Another oft-visited spot in Stratford is Trinity Church in which Shakespeare was baptized. Though few scholars and historians have been able to state the exact date of his birth with conviction, we know the date of his baptism from the records contained within this church. The quiet church-yard with its tombstones is extremely evocative of former centuries, but it is the inside of the modest church that is alive with Shakespearean interest. On the left wall of the main altar, for instance, is a bust of William Shakespeare while right in the very middle of it is Shakespeare’s grave. A very simple memorial wreath lies upon it, but it is easily possible to read the epithaph that Shakespeare himself composed which states:

Good friend for Jesus sake forbeare,
To digg the dust encloased heare:
Bles’e be ye man yt spares thes stones,
And curst be he yt moves my bones.

As a result of the threat contained in these lines, Shakespeare’s remains have never been moved from their final resting place. It is interesting to note that despite his success as one of the leading playwrights, producers and, eventually, theater owners of his time, The Bard chose to be interred in the rather modest church of his own home town. This explains why one doesn’t find him glorified in Poet’s Corner at Westminster Abbey.

Two more venues that most visitors to Stratford make certain they visit are the Royal Shakespeare Theater that is strategically located on the pretty banks of the River Avon. At most times of the year, three of Shakespeare’s plays and those of his contemporary dramatists such as Ben Jonson and Christopher Marlowe are staged simultaneously so that audiences have a wide variety of plays from which to choose. While the Internet has made it so easy for tickets to be reserved long before one arrives in Stratford, tickets are also sold in London. Trying to purchase a ticket at the theater itself upon arrival is an unwise business particularly during the high season as most tickets are sold out well in advance. The restaurant attached to the Theater is a fine place for dinner before the show begins. Students without very deep pockets need not turn away disappointed for room is available in the nose-bleed seats at very reasonable rates. The performance I once saw of Twelfth Night at the Royal Shakespeare Theater is the very best production of that play that I have ever seen.

If, however, Shakespearean drama is not really your cup of tea, you might want to spend some time lingering in the gardens right in the heart of the city that are dedicated to Stratford’s most famous son. Beautifully located on the banks of the Avon, the gardens contain sculptures portraying Shakespeare’s most beloved characters such as Falstaff (left), Hamlet and Lady Macbeth who surround a towering statue of Good Old Will Shakespeare himself. Do plan to spend some quiet time in these soothing spaces far from the crazy droves of tourists who can sometimes make a visit to the town rather stressful.

 

 

 

A few miles outside of Stratford lies the charming village of Shottery and I would strongly recommend a detour. This can easily be accomplished on the same day. In the event that you do not have your own transportation, a public bus service connects the two towns. Shottery is the location of thepicture-book maternal cottage (above) of Shakespeare’s wife, Anne Hathaway, a woman who was sixteen years his senior and pregnant with his child when he married her. Apart from its romantic connections (you can actually see the Courting Bench by the fireside in the parlor at which, legend has it,  Shakespeare wooed this lovely damsel, the beautifully preserved Tudor cottage has a picture-perfect thatched roof and a most beautiful cottage garden. It makes sense, of course, to visit in summer to see the blooms at their most splendid. Apart from Elizabethan memorabilia and quality drama, Stratford offers a variety of enticing shops selling everything from Shakespeare’s Collected Works in deluxe leather-bound editions to exquisite English bone china. One of my great joys in Stratford was finding sets of bone china place card holders in a china shop that was crammed to the rafters with beautifully painted porcelain. Having combed every possible shop in London for these treasures, I could have kissed the saleslady who went deep into the cellars to find me my much-coveted buys.

Whether you wish to walk in the footsteps of The Bard or simply enjoy a day away from the frenzy of large cities like London or Liverpool, Stratford will not disappoint.

Bon Voyage!

Rye

Apr12

Rye – A Medieval Town Frozen in Time

(Posing in the picturesque lane leading to St. Mary’s Church)

If there exists one place in England that I could visit willingly on every single trip, it would be Rye. I adore this enchanting medieval town so much that I feel convinced that in a previous life I might have inhabited a Victorian or Edwardian world on this rocky edge of England. Tucked away in what is referred to as “1066 Country”, the settlement is on the tourist track from London that usually includes the coastal towns of Hastings and Battle. Associated with the Norman conquest of England in 1066 when William the Conqueror of Normandy, France, defeated Harold, putting England firmly into French hands, this region is deeply evocative of history. The town of Rye, located in the midst of England’s earliest past, seems appropriately frozen in time, its heart crammed with the quaintest cobbled streets and drooping half-timbered houses.

Located in East Sussex, Rye is the kind of place in which the Past seems to have stopped f0r a fleeting visit never to have left. It is  worth visiting if only for its uneven pebbled streets and its Tudor houses with their exposed beams and leaded glass windows all clustered together in charmingly narrow alleyways.

Perched on a hill overlooking the Romney Marshes, Rye’s winding lanes contain a literary curiosity around every corner, including England’s famed blue plaques that announce the past dwellings of her well-known children. So imagine my delight, as a litterateur, when we passed by the home of John Fletcher, the other half of (Francis) Beaumont and Fletcher, Jacobean dramatists who wrote among other plays The Arden of Faversham, refering to a small town in Kent through which we also later drove. (In the picture above right, my cousin Cheryl and her husband David pose for me outside the tea room that in which John Fletcher once lived).

Or my joy on discovering the red brick home (left) of American novelist Henry James who adored Rye and wrote his novel The Wings of a Dove while living in this delightful enclave. Further rambles took us into Rye’s ancient cathedral of St. Mary’s and its stone-draped castle after we stopped for lunch at a little café, explored a few of the enticing shops and took countless pictures of the quaint Tudor lodgings, particularly those on Mermaid Lane such as the Mermaid Inn that dates from the 16th century.  Cheryl who accompanied to met Rye with her husband David is seen with me in the picture below outside The Mermaid Inn.

But Rye’s ancient history also includes smugglers and secret passages reminiscent of the many Enid Blyton adventures on which I thrived as a child. In more recent years, contemporary novelists like E.F. Benson made this coastal town the setting for a series of novels that featured eccentric upper middle class characters named Mapp and Lucia—later collectively turned into an amusing British TV series starring Penelope Scales and Geraldine McEwan in the lead roles with a charming and utterly funny Nigel Hawthorn playing the supporting male role of Georgie who eventually becomes Mapp’s hapless husband. Though it is called Tilling-on-Sea in Benson’s novels, Rye is the town that the author unmistakably wished to immortalize through his work.

Looking further eastwards you will be reminded of the military activity that resounded in this region during World War II. Indeed, fans of the British detective series Foyle’s War starring Michael Kitchen will find much that is evocative of those war-time mysteries from the strange signals that were beamed off the coast to enemy ships to the smaller homes that hid the clandestine activity of petty crooks.  For though the series is shot in neighboring Hastings, Rye does present the same evocative atmosphere of Britain’s dread of “Jerry” (Germany) across the Channel.

We also visited the harbor that was dotted with colorful sailing craft.  Long known to have sheltered England’s clandestine activity in smuggling and piracy, Rye is a part of the Cinque Ports (pronounced “Sink Ports”) and strolls along the river front upon which small craft laden with contraband once plied, bring the visitor sharply in the presence of her sea-faring past. The banks of the river provide marvelous opportunities for impromptu picnics and when the sun shines as warmly as it does as on the day I was there, few can resist the compulsion to plop down on the grass with sardine sandwiches and ginger beer as the adventurous teenagers in my Enid Blyton books so joyously did.

Do make a visit to Rye. Whether you climb up to the belfry of the medieval church to view the Romney Marshes that surround the town or linger in the tea shops that line the High Street, you will leave with a warm and fuzzy feeling for one of the most beautiful parts of England.

Bon Voyage!

Liverpool

Apr12

City of the Beatles, Cathedrals and Historic Pubs

Long known as the birthplace of the Beatles, Liverpool has an unrivaled passion for music and visitors can take their own Magical Mystery Tour around the town with a visit to many of the sites that the Beatles made famous in their songs such as Penny Lane, Strawberry Fields, etc. The Cavern Club where they first began performing as a group is a part of this tour as is the childhood home of Sir Paul McCartney.

For those not quite given to Beatlemania, the city’s maritime history might be of particular interest. Start exploring this city around Albert Dock, a stunning piece of architecture that dates back to 1846. Developed today as Liverpool’s busiest quarter, it boasts every variety of shop, restaurant and music club. One can also take a ferry across the Mersey River to enjoy lovely views of the city’s skyline, the Pier Head and its notable three graces: The Royal Liver Building, The Cunard Building and the Port of Liverpool Building, all at the heart of the famous waterfront.

The Dean Walters Building on the campus of John Moore’s University (above and at right below)

I left New York on a drizzling fall day, taking the Air Train from Queens, for the first time, to Kennedy airport. American Airlines’ red eye flight, a tube ride from Heathrow to Victoria and an endless drive through the Midlands, the very backbone of England. A National Express coach finally brought me to Liverpool after night had long fallen. I checked into my hotel, ate an early dinner and fell asleep exhausted after a journey that had lasted endless hours.

Liverpool John Moores University Campus

The next day, a taxi ride at what seemed like the crack of dawn on a proverbially gray English morning took me to the campus of Liverpool John Moores University to participate in a conference on Audiences and Popular Culture. A chatty cabbie pointed a few of Liverpool’s landmarks to me as we skimmed by the sleepy streets, suggesting that I pay a visit to the two cathedrals on the same street—a unique occurrence only found in Liverpool, he assured me.

(Seated in-between fellow participants during my panel’s presentation at the Conference–below right)

All went well at the conference where I had a  chance to meet several British academics and American grad students working in my field. My paper on the gangster crime film genre in Bollywood was met with a warm reception and elicited questions at the end of the panel discussion.

My visit to Liverpool was short, but business did not prevent me from exploring some of its better-known sights. In-between sessions, I did find the time to stroll through the neat city streets. It was fun to come upon a stack of metal (yes, literally a stack of metal sculptures, as seen in the picture on the left), featuring a number of suitcases piled one on top of the other at a busy street intersection. This must have something to do with Liverpool’s sea-faring history and the fondness for exploration of its people.

Eventually I did get to the cathedrals—first, the massive Anglican Cathedral which was right outside the Dean Walters Building in which our conference was held. This Gothic structure took one hundred years to build and was finally completed in 1904. Inside I felt dwarfed by its startling dimensions, its soaring ceiling, its mammoth columns, the fan vaulting and stained glass window.

Hurrying quickly along to the other end of the street, I arrived at the Catholic Cathedral of Christ the King which offered a complete contrast in architecture in that its style was not merely Modernistic but Futuristic. Originally designed by Sir Edwin Lutyens, celebrated Edwardian architect of New Delhi, the cathedral is built around a circular plan resembling a Roman amphitheater more than it does a Christian house of worship. Inside, beautiful stained glass panels and chandeliers emphasized the interesting structural lines of the edifice. The picture below shows the very unique modern design of the Cathedral.

When the conference adjourned for the day, we made our way to the Tabac Restaurant for dinner, partaking of a bargain three course meal that included wine and dessert. Then, because most of the delegates wanted to experience Liverpool’s swinging night life, we adjourned for after-dinner drinks to a pub called The Philharmonic, on 36 Hope Street, a stunning space set in an old building. Affectionately know as “The Phil”, the Philharmonic Dining Rooms takes its name from the Philharmonic Hall opposite. The Pub, in its early days, was particularly used by ladies and gentlemen attending the Philharmonic Hall concerts. “The Phil” represents a dazzling piece of Victorian flamboyance and has been described as “the most ornate pub in Britain”. In fact, Egon Ronay declared that “If a pub could be a work of art, the Philharmonic is that pub”. The pub is perhaps most famous for its extravagant gentleman’s toilet with marble washbasins, copper taps and exquisite glazed urinals. It has become the tradition to allow ladies to view the toilet, providing they get permission to do so first. Of course, our hosts from Liverpool John Moores University made sure we sneaked a peak at this ostentatious place. The two smoke rooms, filled with stunning interior décor elements are named after composers Brahms and Liszt, a reminder of the past when musical evenings were held in the Grande Lounge. The Philharmonic was crowded with people the evening we were there, providing standing room only. Over English draft beer, we exchanged business cards and toured the posh interiors of the pub with its ornamental fireplaces, carved paneled walls and exquisite old English tiles in Art Décor motifs.

Liverpool doesn’t take more than two days to visit, but it could well be an interesting starting point for any tour of the North of England.

 

Bon Voyage!

Lake District

Apr12

Lazing Amidst the Lakes

 

Following in the Footsteps of the Romantic Poets

(The Almeida Family on the shores of Lake Bowness)

England’s Lake District is undoubtedly one of the most picturesque parts of the British  countryside. Long associated with the Romantic poets, William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge, a lesser-known fact is that it was the home of Beatrix Potter, creator of Peter Rabbit and his lovable team of friends. If vast, unspoiled, green-clad mountainous vistas, lazy paddling in mirror-like lakes, endless ambles down country lanes filled with placid cattle and wildflowers, gargantuan breakfasts of freshly-laid eggs and locally-cured bacon, crisp toast and fruity preserves, suit your fancy, then you will be charmed by the area of Central England that goes by the name of the Lake District for, indeed, the region, is dotted by lakes and set in the midst of gentle rolling hills that offer spectacular sunrises and equally stirring sunsets.

Llew, Chriselle and I headed north from London on the M4 towards the lakes in the swanky Rover we rented at Heathrow.

Our first stop was the charming village of Kendal where the uniform greyness of the sides and roofs of cottages created a very pretty picture indeed on the toy-town like streets. Unable to resist the quaintness of a typical English country church, we posed for pictures in the hushed environs of the church-yard (left). Deciding to take a break, we made our way to a local pub where a group of jolly local folk finding us–a family of South Asians–a rare curiosity in their village, joked with us for a while.

Driving further north, we checked into Linda’s Bed & Breakfast at Ambleside, nestled right in the heart of the Lake District. We loved the little attic room that Linda Marshall let out to us and taking her advice, we spent the rest of the day strolling around the little village. Ambleside has the distinction of being named and photographed in a coffee-table book entitled, The Prettiest Villages of England. And truly it is delightful. The streets are narrow and deeply atmospheric. All roads lead to the village center where a tiny brook flows quietly by, accentuated by a mill-like structure poised above it, complete with turning mill-wheel. Lovely shops line the cobbled streets enticing visitors with their offerings of souvenirs and “traditional cream teas.” All through our rambles in Ambleside, we were conscious of its beautiful location, nestling in the soft folds of the hills. Indeed, though Ambleside cannot boast its own lake, there are enough seductions in this tiny village to keep tourists enthralled for a long time.

One of Ambleside’s biggest attractions for instance, is its walking trails and, the next morning, we went on one of the loveliest nature treks we’ve ever taken.

Following our landlady Linda’s advice, we left our car behind and footed it past the tiny River Rothay into pristine pastureland serenely grazed over by horses in paddock, flocks of sheep and large brown cows (left). The typical drizzle of an English summer’s day did nothing to dampen our spirits as we crossed stepping stones over the river, passed charming stone cottages with roses rambling all over them and meadows of wild foxgloves.

After a good hour’s walk, we arrived at Rydal Mount, home of the Lake District’s most famous son, William Wordsworth. By then, of course, we fully understood what the source of all his “Nature Poems” had been!

Rydal Mount (left) is a beautiful house that overlooks Conniston Waters, the largest lake in the region. Still furnished in the manner in which it was during Wordsworth’s day, it carries a wealth of memorabilia from the lives of the poet and his beloved sister, Dorothy. Indeed, the Lake District is truly “Wordworth Country” and there is enough here to keep his fans enthralled.  In the afternoon, we drove to Grasmere for lunch and had the opportunity to visit Dove Cottage where Wordworth had lived before moving to Rydal Mount.

Like most cottages in the region, Dove enraptures the senses. It is small, cosy and very pretty with sweet peas growing all over its walls and fuschia hanging from profuse vines (left). In the churchyard at Grasmere is the Wordsworth family grave and we were able to pay our respects to this most Romantic of English poets. We ended the day driving around the village of Bowness with its narrow lanes and holiday atmosphere.

No holiday in the Lake District would be complete without a visit to one of the lakes themselves and Lake Windermere is easily accessed from the town of Bowness. Boats ply on the waters and visitors are always enchanted by their ability to board one of these pretty craft to get a sense of the quiet beauty of this region. Closer to the shores, we were equally enchanted by the antics of little toddlers who dissolved into peals of excited giggles every time the hungry ducks and swans ate from their hands.

A little after dawn the next morning, we began our drive southwards to the Cotswolds, but a treat for the eyes awaited us just as we were leaving the Lake District.

It was, of course, drizzling again, but to our enormous delight, right across Lake Windermere was the most perfect rainbow we had ever seen (left). Squealing with joy, we stopped to take pictures and now have printed memories in our album of one of the prettiest sights in the world.

You do not need to be a published poet to enjoy the Lake District. But, don’t be surprised, if the creative impulse seizes you .You’re very likely to leave the area having created a souvenir water color of your visit, composed a few lines of your own, or at the very least, quoting Wordswoth who referred to the area in his Ode on Immortality.

Bon Voyage!

Kent & Isle of Sheppey

Apr12


The Isle of Sheppey in Kent: Exploring the Garden of England

Seascapes stretching across the North Sea and the English Channel. Ancient cobbled stones in winding coastal towns. The scent of salty waves and the intermittent screech of seagulls. Formal gardens awash with color. Cozy tearooms and intriguing antiques shops. Smugglers coves and writers’ retreats. You’ll find all these and more on your rambles through the southeastern corners of England in the County of Kent.

The National Express Coach Station at London’s Victoria provides probably the fastest and cheapest means of arriving in the Garden of England—Kent. I was fortunate to have my cousin Cheryl and her husband David meet me at the bus station at Gillingham on a particularly quiet Sunday morning. Together they proved to be excellent guides to the area.

What a treat it was to drive by fresh green fields, past herds of placid cows and sheep, across the Kingsferry Drawbridge to their home on the Isle of Sheppey at the extreme end of Kent which looks out directly across the North Sea towards the distant shores of Norway.

The Cranes live with their cats Morgy and Buttons in Catalan, a home they bought recently as part of a long cherished dream to have water views from their windows.

Because autumn in England means that night falls by 4pm, we did not waste precious daylight but headed straight for Sissinghurst Castle and Gardens about which I have read frequently in many gardening and interior design magazines. Laid out in the mid-twentieth century by British aristocrats Vita Sackville-West and her husband Sir Harold Nicholson, Sissinghurst is the quintessential English garden based on the concept of small “garden rooms” separated by red brick pathways and characterized by masses of climbing roses. Though we visited out of season when the tumultuous tumble of summer color gives way to the more muted tones of fall, we did enjoy our stroll across the moated walk

 

 

 

 

Our next port of call was the medieval town of Rye in East Sussex, a place in which time seems to have stood still.

 

Red brick home of Henry James

Cheryl and Rochelle outside the Mermaid Inn in Rye

Rochelle poses with the ancient Church of St. Mary’s in the background

Then, with night falling rapidly, we drove the two short miles to Winchelsea, another pretty village high on a hill where the white clapboard houses were strongly reminiscent of New England.

Winchelsea’s pretty white clapboard houses

As darkness grew, we returned to the Isle of Sheppey to Catalan to pop open a bottle of sparkling wine in celebration of David’s birthday that happily coincided with the day of my arrival. Over Cherry’s delicious moussaka and expertly crafted Chocolate Profiteroles, we ended a lovely day.

The next morning saw us heading further east into Kent to the picturesque fishing village of Whitstable famed for its fisherfolk, briny oysters and sensational sunsets. We strolled through its interesting High Street that’s becoming increasingly gentrified so that Whitstable seems poised on the brink of discovery by tourists who might well make it a chic shopper’s Mecca.

Cheryl and David at Whitstable with fishing craft in the background

Back on the Isle of Sheppey, David drove me to Sheerness (pronounced like Scotland’s Loch Ness) to see the striking Clock Tower near the High Street.

After a swift visit to the abbey at Minster-on-Sea, we drove to the eastern end of the island, past countless flocks of handsome pheasants, to the Church of St. Thomas at Harty which was built in 1137 to hug the cliff’s edge. Still not electrified, the church seemed eerily quiet in the twilight.

The 12th century Church at Harty

 

 

 

Wild Pleasants on the road to Harty

We ended the day back in Minster at the Crane’s local pub The Playa, where we indulged over glasses of Guinness and excellent pub grub including England’s famous steamed puddings in a cozy restaurant that was warmly lit. I chose a delicious Spotted Dick that swam in custard sauce while David had the Treacly Sticky Toffee Pudding. We drank a toast to our togetherness and I lamented the fact that my stay was so short in one of the more beautiful parts of England.

Bon Voyage!

Hampton Court

Apr12

In Search of Tudor Ghosts

(On the driveway leading up to the main gates of Hampton Court)

Our one-day detour in England allowed us to explore one of the country’s grandest palaces—Hampton Court on the banks of the River Thames in Surrey. Llew handled the car we rented at Heathrow beautifully on the winding country roads of the village of Hampton, bringing us, merely twenty minutes later, to the red brick facade of this Tudor marvel of architecture.

Stopping at the Cardinal Wolsey Pub (above, appropriately named for the Palace’s original owner) and at the residence (below left) of Sir Christopher Wren, Father of Modern London, we arrived at the Palace gates on a particularly beautiful summer’s morning.

Time flew fast as we explored the Tudor courtyards (above left and at left) and hallways of this splendid home, the private apartments of notorious King Henry VIII and his six wives, and the Royal Chapel that has been in continuous use for the past 500 years with its magnificent pendant vaulted ceiling, reputedly the best one in Britain.

 

Particularly interesting for me were the vast Tudor kitchens (left) with a real fire burning in the hearth and the servants’ quarters with their intriguing nooks and niches. Wolsey’s apartments with their “folded linen” wood paneling, a form of wood carving peculiar to the Tudor periods, were also fascinating as I had never seen such intricacy before.

We moved then into the later seventeenth-century addition to the Palace carried out under the direction of Sir Christopher Wren through the commission of William and Mary (below left).

The difference in architectural styles was striking. We loved the Fountain Courtyard, the splendor of the royal bedrooms with their oil paintings, frescoes, and superbly carved marble mantelpieces, the work of Grinling Gibbons—which caused one ecstatic little visitor to run right into a fireplace and exclaim to his father, standing
nearby: “Look at the carvings, Daddy! Rich carvings!” What was remarkable about the acuteness of his perception and the aesthetic sensibility that was proclaimed by the statement was the fact that he was no older than three years!

Lords and ladies of the court dressed in Tudor and Elizabethan garb strolled among visitors in the courtyard and posed for pictures with us (above) as we made our way into the stunning formal gardens with their symmetrical yew-tree alleys, delightful perennial beds (the best I’ve ever seen–below) and the famous Maze in which visitors can lose themselves for hours.

We did not have the chance to test our own prowess at finding our way out because we had to rush off to board our flight from Stanstead to Salzburg. But our visit to Hampton Court Palace will remain forever indelible. As we walked back alongside the River Thames towards our car, I could just imagine Anne Boleyn in one of the barges that once skimmed upon that river as they transferred  the royal court from London to Surrey.

(With Chriselle outside the main gate of Hampton Court)

Bon Voyage!

Court of Chancery

Apr12

Legal London: The Inns of Court of Chancery

Following in the footsteps of Antiquity Every visitor to the UK should start the day with a traditional English breakfast complete with bacon and eggs, sausages, grilled tomatoes and mushrooms, toast and preserves, cereal and coffee. Oh, and I almost forgot, fried (yes, fried) bread! There is something to be said for the reserves of energy to be found in this artery-clogging repast and if you wish to spend the day exploring some of the undiscovered pockets of the city of London, as I often do when I am there, no repast could be better consumed. Legal London is my name for that part of the city that is sandwiched between High Holburn and Fleet Street. It is here that the Inns of Court at Chancery are hidden. I had first heard of them as an undergraduate reading English Literature at Elphinstone College, Bombay. Charles Dickens’ novel Bleak House that covers the endless affairs of the court case of Jarndyce and Jarndyce is set in this very evocative part of London while, in more recent years, my familiarity with a British TV show called Kavanagh QC starring John Thaw in the role of Queens Counsel Kavanagh had also taken me into this very heart of British jurisprudence. Alighting from the tube at Chancery, I strolled along Gray’s Inn Road all set to explore the first of the four Inns of Court (whose names are Gray’s Inn, Lincoln’s Inn, Inner Temple and Middle Temple). These institutions are called “inns” because they were conceived as residential colleges for the training of lawyers in the same sense that the colleges of Oxford and Cambridge were set up as residential institutions for the training of church ministers. Just as I was reading my guide book and getting a grip on the system, I was befriended by a young solicitor named Steven who took me under his wing and became my self-appointed guide around the maze of streets that comprise legal London. Steven explained the system to me as we walked past the beautiful Gothic buildings that contain dining halls, chapels and “chambers” within their sprawling dimensions. At Steven’s suggestion, I waited until 12 noon when Trinity Chapel opened to explore an exquisite Anglican church that had been consecrated in 1623 when the famous metaphysical poet John Donne preached a stirring sermon to mark its consecration. Its beautiful stained glass windows sport hundreds of crests of the families of several prominent knights from the days of England’s past as a keeper of the faith. Leaving the vast quadrangle of Gray’s Inn behind me (above left), I rested in its superb gardens, then crossed Holburn and entered Lincoln’s Inn through a very tiny alleyway tucked secretly in the labyrinth of solid gray granite structures that comprise the “Stone Buildings”. The perennial gardens at Lincoln’s Inn were full of irises, peonies and tulips on that spring morning (left). They made such a handsome sight against the red brick Gothic buildings behind them. Going past the squat archway that connected the Inn to Lincoln’s Inn Field, I arrived on Serle Street (above right) that adjoins Carey Street of which “Queer” Street was a derivative. Clients facing bankruptcy in Dickens’ Victorian days were said to be headed up “Queer Street” when their businesses fell apart and they were held in Debtors Prison for life because they were unable to pay back their hapless creditors. Lincoln’s Inn Field is not a field at all today but a vast public park which, thanks to the glorious weather, was jam packed with Londoners enjoying the sun on their backs as they munched on picnic lunches. Unable to spend too much time there, I headed for Sir John Soane’s Museum on the north side of the park to see one of London’s lesser-known but no less fascinating museums. Sir John Soane was a Victorian architect (best known for his work on the Bank of England) whose true passion was the collection of artifacts and antiquities from the classical civilizations of Greece and Rome. He spent a good part of the fortune he made in acquiring a massive collection of archeological figurines, busts, statues, sarcophagi, urns, bowls and the like that hailed from that golden era. He also collected architectural fragments from famous London buildings such as the Parliament Buildings, all of which were used to decorate his home on the square. The end result is three floors of three houses that are crammed with this whimsical collection, a huge array of architectural drawings and paintings by Joseph Gandy who was Soane’s preferred artist and a magnificent Picture Gallery whose doors open up in three tiers to allow to maximum display of oil paintings. Among the most famous of these are the two series entitled The Election and The Rake’s Progress by 18th century English master William Hogarth and any number of Soane’s own architectural drawings of landmark London buildings. Though this is an exceedingly small museum in terms of square footage, it was breathtaking in its magnitude and the wealth of art objects displayed within. If you have never seen this building before, I recommend it heartily. It might not be the National Gallery but if you are particularly drawn to classical antiquity, this is one of the finest receptacles of such finds that you will ever see. Then it was time for lunch. I picked up sandwiches from Prêt a Manger, the ubiquitous sandwich chain that has taken over Europe. Not quite ready to eat, however, I crossed Fleet Street, went past the Royal Courts of Justice, saw the pub called the Seven Stars that has been frequented by solicitors for centuries and entered Temple where a doorway led me right into the churchyard of what is perhaps the most famous church in London today—Temple Church—made into a household name by Dan Brown’s international best-selling novel The Da Vinci Code and which, coincidentally enough, was scheduled to be released in London the week following my visit in a Ron Howard film starring Tom Hanks and Audrey Tatou. I had intended to visit this lovely, small, round Norman church made of Cotswold stone (left),  but little did I expect to come upon it as suddenly as I did. Yet throngs of Da Vinci Code fans have been seeking out this little Temple Church, so-called because it was constructed by the Knights Templar, one of the oldest English Order of Knights charged with protecting pilgrims on their way to Jerusalem in the days of the Crusades. You do not have to read Brown’s novel, however, to escape from the bustle of commercial London into this mysterious church, the first and largest that the Knights Templar constructed in London and consecrated in 1185.         Entering the church, I found a discussion in progress with the current Master of the Church and a panel of medieval historians whose research has suddenly shot into prominence following the world’s desire to know the real secrets behind the disappearance of  the Holy Grail and its recovery. The discussion was being televised but I was free to wander around the back of the church to the nave where the effigies of the ten knights are supposed to contain the coded clues to the whereabouts of the Grail (above left). Despite its tiny size, Temple Church retains an air of antiquity of its historic past as an important link in the chain that kept England in the grip of fervent Christianity in the Middle Ages. Outside the church, I wandered in the cloisters and gardens ‘lost’ beneath surrounding Inns of Court buildings. In the churchyard, there is a tall pillar on which a sculpture of a Knight Templar gives visitors an idea of the kind of earnest men who protected the early church. If one wishes to explore the rest of the buildings that comprise the Temple and Inner Temple complex, one will eventually come upon Old Bailey, as the Supreme Court of Justice in the land is known and which is characterized by the gilded sculpture of the Goddess who balances the scales of Justice in her hands. Then began my long walk along Holburn and Shaftesbury Street to Bloomsbury as I had a series of business meetings scheduled during the afternoon at New York University’s campus in London. Needless to say, the temperature was perfect and walking gave me a marvelous opportunity to mingle with other energetic Londoners and tourists, all of whom were determined to make the most of the beautiful day. Following my nose to Bedford Square where NYU is located, I found myself early enough for my appointments to be able to spend some time in the private Bedford Gardens that are open only to residents whose homes overlook the square. My NYU ID card entitled me to the keys and feeling extraordinarily lucky and deeply privileged, I sat down to enjoy my picnic lunch on a park bench in a quiet, secluded and very pretty part of London where fat squirrels played tag in the trees and birds sang melodiously to celebrate the weather. Almost uncontrollably, sleep stole over my senses and I lay down on a park bench to have one of the nicest naps I can remember! Indeed, when I awoke, about 20 minutes later, everyone else had left the park and I had that entire green expanse of lawn and shrub and tree to myself. I felt as if I were in my own isolated bit of Paradise and I had to pinch myself to believe that I was, in fact, in the midst of one of the world’s most populous cities. I spent the afternoon with my British colleagues at NYU, touring the beautiful old campus building, once the residence of Lord Eldon, Chancellor and Lord Mayor of London. Prof. David Ruben, Director of NYU London, was particularly nice as were many of the administrative staff and I had very productive discussions with them. Then, all business commitments complete, I walked just two minutes down the street to the massive Neo-Classical expanse of the British Museum. Luckily, Thursdays mean longer hours at the museum which being open till 8.30pm left me ample time to linger in front of the Highlights that I had seen, many years ago, on a Highlights Tour. I headed off first to spend some quiet contemplative time with the controversial Elgin Marbles that occupy a vast gallery in the Museum (left). After photographing the marbles from several angles and taking many close-ups, I moved on towards the other highlights. There was the Rosetta Stone (below left) that led to the decipherment of Egyptian hieroglyophics; there was the Nereid monument; there was the lovely Portland Vase that had inspired John Keats’ Ode on a Grecian Urn; there were the magnificent Assyrian winged bull sculptures from the Temples of Nineveh and Nimrud; there were the rooms stuffed with Egyptian mummies and all funerary accoutrements; there were the treasures of the Anglo-Saxon ship that was found buried at Sutton Hoo, and, for the first time, I saw also the interesting Warren Cup, a sterling silver Roman Cup that is completely engraved with erotic homosexual scenes. What a lovely two hours I spent there, enjoying, most of all, the Great Court that was inaugurated in 2003 and is dedicated to Queen Elizabeth. Featuring a massive ceiling skylight, it forms the largest enclosed space in Europe. The contrast between the Neo-Classical design of the exterior of the British Museum and the extremely contemporary interior was not lost on me and I was struck repeatedly by the genius that pulled this project together. Legal London has a great deal to offer the traveler. There is the possibility of going back in time to a Victorian world when unscrupulous lawyers held poor citizens in their merciless grip. There is the chance to discover the passion that made stone acquisitions from Classical antiquity an obsession for one wealthy architect. There is the British Museum, one of the world’s greatest, where manuscripts in the handwriting of William Shakespeare and John Lenon might be perused at leisure. There are churches hoary with age in which regular worship still occurs. I could go on and on…if the opportunity to see the less well-trodden paths of London ever presents itself, do not sneeze at the chance to do so. You will be rewarded by some of the most stirring memories. And you will realize that the solitary traveler is never alone. For in spaces that evoke so many emotions, one’s own company is really all one will ever need. Bon Voyage!