Tag Archive | Chelsea

Back in Blighty! Yes, Again!

Back in Blighty! Yes! Again!

Monday, June 18, 2017

It was a painless departure from home—practically speaking, I mean—not emotionally. I dearly wish I could have had Llew accompanying me…but it was painless in the sense that the Prime Time shuttle driver picked me up very easily at 1. 30 pm on Sunday afternoon (Father’s Day) on schedule and by 3. 30 pm (also on schedule) we were at the American Airlines Terminal at Kennedy airport.  Flight was on time, check in and security were a breeze with my Pre TSA status and I was at the gate in good time to board. I had a window seat, but taxi-ing for takeoff took forever as we were twenty in line. Although our flight left the gate on time at 6.15, it was 7.30 pm before we got off the ground—and this time I mean literally! This brought us about 15 minutes late into Heathrow, but Immigration took only 20 minutes—by far the fastest it has ever gone.

The worst part of my journey was getting to my hotel.  I got into line at the airport for London’s traditional black cabs, entered one within seconds, but from there on, it was all downhill. The journey into Central London took us about two hours. I boarded the cab at 8.15 am and I reached my hotel in Holborn at 9.50 am! We took the most convoluted journey I have known—from Heathrow to Chiswick to Hammersmith and Fulham and then to Kensington and then to Paddington! Why we did not take the Westway Highway to get us to Edgeware and from there to Marylebon Road, I have no idea. But from Paddington, we eventually reached Edgeware. I was dozing through most of the ride as I had slept fitfully on the flight. I think the cab driver took me for a royal ride just to enhance his fare. It was only when I questioned him at Paddington that he realized I know my way around London really well. And from the time I questioned him, we took a straight enough route and finally, I was there.

In the Hotel at Holborn:

This is not so much a hotel as a building converted into serviced apartments—it is right on High Holborn, just a few steps from Holborn Tube Station and, if you can believe it, just a few meters from the building in which I had lived for a year, not too long ago. So, in other words, I am back in my former stomping ground and I feel as happy as a pig in a….well, you get the idea! This neighborhood is like my second home and after I unpacked, had a quick coffee from the complimentary machine down in the lobby, I was off.

London is sweltering and Londoners are melting in the heat as they are so unaccustomed to these temps and have no air-conditioning except in their offices. I changed from shoes to sandals, put on my sunglasses and baseball cap and was out the door at 11.30 am. And I did not get back to my room until 6.30 pm—already having walked a little too much today!

Exploring Seven Dials and Beyond:

I began my gadabout today with a walk along High Holborn towards Shaftesbury Avenue as I followed some interesting locations in my Key London Red Book. First spot was Monmouth Coffee Co. which, apparently, has the best coffee in London. I did not put this claim to the test as I had just finished a coffee in the hotel. Not too far away was the Donmar Warehouse which does really off-beat theater. I have never attended a performance here, but I decided to check out the premises. Right now Lenny Henry (of Chef fame) is in a show here, but I did not feel any desire to see it. I passed by the theater showing the world’s longest-running play—Agatha Christie’s The Mouse Trap, and walked ahead past Cambridge Theater (showing Mathila) to a theater right near Leicester Square where the big attraction is Audra McDonald, one of Broadway’s biggest stars, in a show called ‘Lady Day at Emerson Bar and Grill’. I found out that 20 pound day tickets are available at 10.00 am daily from Tuesday-Saturday. I shall try to get my friend Shahnaz to arrive at the theater by 9. 45 am to pick up tickets for the two of us on Wednesday when I will be at my seminar at NYU. Tomorrow is out as I have dinner with my NYU colleagues at Hubbard and Bell near Holborn.

Still walking and using my Red Key Book Map, I arrived at the Church of Our Lady of Notre Dame of France on Leicester Place. It turned out that Mass was just about to begin and, naturally, I stayed for it. It is a very small, rather hidden church with a sculpture of Our Lady at the entrance and a lovely mosaic on the main altar of Our Lady amidst a garden of flowers. There were about two dozen people inside and as a French priest said the Mass, there was a lot of Parisian charm to the entire service. It was over by 12. 45 pm which left me just enough time to make it to the next item on my agenda—a free musical recital at the Church of St. Martin-in-the-Fields at Trafalgar Square. By this time, I was feeling rather peckish as a very light brekkie and coffee in the hotel were all I had consumed; but there was no time to waste.

Recital by Students of the Purcell School of Music:

One of my favorite things to do in London is attending the free concerts at the gorgeous Anglican churches that hold them several times a week at 1.00pm. St. Martin’s is beautifully located and attracts loads of visitors as they carve the time for the event in-between nipping in and out of the National Gallery or the National Portrait Gallery or before catching a matinee somewhere in the theater district.

So, there I was—in a seat right at the front and sitting parallel to the piano keyboard. It was a delightful concert with students who astonished with their virtuosity. About 18 years old, they have the potential to be stars—no doubt. What was wonderful was the variety they offered: Gayatri Nair was a vocalist of Indian parentage who was marvelous. The cellist who played ‘The Flight of the Bumblebee’ was awesome and the piano sonata by Chopin was outstanding. Not that the saxophonist and the violinist were any less. They were all simply astounding. Only in London can one breeze into an 18th century church filled with attractive stained glass and rococo plastered gilding and be stunned by a musical performance for which you would pay a handsome price in a concert hall. Little wonder that such a show is always on the cards for my visits to London.

Highlights Tour at the National Gallery:

Of course, I cannot be close to the National Gallery and not pop in for a Highlights Tour. These are given at 11.30 am and 2. 30 pm daily and I never fail to catch one—this too is entirely free! I used the 40 minute break to sit in the Sainsbury Wing to eat a granola bar and an apple and to take a look at the special 12th century tempera paintings on wood by the Italian artist Giovanni de Rimini which is the featured painting of the moment. Then I raced back for the start of the tour that was given by a guide named Lauren Bauman.

It was a very good tour but for me the most disappointing part is that too much time is spent on each painting—as much as 25 minutes in one case—so that, the viewers see no more than 4 canvasses—we ended up seeing the following and getting a mini-dissertation on each of them:

  1. The Arnolfini Marriage by Jan Van Eyck.
  2. Allegory of Venus and Cupid by Bronzino.
  3. The Toilette of Venus (or the Rokeby Venus) by Diego Velasquez.

And that was it!!! I seriously wish we could have seen at least six of them. But there was a lot we learned and I enjoyed the tour (except for the fact that occasionally I dozed off as I seriously needed to catch up on my sleep). However, I wasn’t about to take a break.

The tour ended in exactly an hour. At 2. 30 pm, I hurried out to a city that had become blistering. If you stood on the verandah of the National Gallery and looked towards Whitehall past the sculpture of Nelson on his pedestal, you would be amazed at how empty it looked! Everyone was indoors. People had wimped out. There was no way they were braving that dreadful heat. This meant that the streets were almost deserted as I made my way to the bus stop opposite Trafalgar Studios with the intention of taking the No. 11 bus for a joy ride through the main tourist venues.

A Bus Ride to Chelsea:   

This is yet another favorite thing to do in London—for me, that is. I board the No. 11 bus which is the cheapest tour you can get of the city of London. Of course, I go upstairs and take a seat up front and center and allow my inner kid to kick in as I settle down to watch London go by. I sailed down the military sculptures of Whitehall and the guards at the Parade Grounds, I passed by 10 Downing Street (poor beleaguered Teresa—you cannot help but feel sorry for her right now!), viewed Charles Barry’s beautiful Houses of Parliament from a height, saw Westminster Abbey and Cathedral along Victoria Road and arrived at Victoria. These roads too were almost entirely empty as people stayed put in their air-conditioned offices.

Scouring the Thrift Stores (read Charity Shops) for Bargains:

I jumped off my bus on the King’s Road at Chelsea and got into the next item on my agenda: scouring the charity shops for DVDs (as I have steadily been building a collection of British films and TV shows) and the thrift shops are the best places to find these. I have my favorite places in Chelsea, Fulham, Kensington and Richmond and I delved to them with a plan! Little wonder that after looking at 5 such shops, I found 4 DVDs—a far bigger haul than I expected. I also nipped into Marks and Sparks to buy some of the goodies to which I have become addicted—eg. chocolate eclairs filled with real whipped cream (not the custard you find in the US).

When I reached the end of the King’s Road, I took a bus to Sloan Street with the idea of picking up my London phone from my friends Michael and Cynthia who are on a cruise right now. They made arrangements for their porter to hand it over to me but when I got there, he was out.

Having walked already for what seemed like miles, I made it briskly to Knightsbridge Tube station and suffered through the sauna that was the Tube! Twenty minutes later, I was in my air-conditioned room and awaiting the arrival of my friend Shahnaz as she was due to land at Heathrow from Bombay at 6.00 pm local time.

Awaiting Shahnaz’s Arrival:

While awaiting Shahnaz’s arrival, I sorted through my shopping, put things away, had a cup of coffee, took a lovely refreshing shower and sat to write this blog. Shahnaz arrived at 8.45 pm. And after spending about an hour just gabbing away (we were meeting after six months), we decided to get a bite to eat.

A Drink and Dinner on our First Night:

By the time we left our hotel to get a bite, it was about 9.30 pm.  We were headed to My Old Dutch, a pancake house in Holborn that I have wanted to try forever.  Never having company, I never ended up eating there. To make things really enticing today, the chain has an offer they call Monday Madness—where a variety of pancakes—crepes really—with the most delicious fillings are half price. We were headed there with enthusiasm, when we spied the Princess Louise pub right across the road and decided to head there for a drink. Two swift half pints later, we were in great spirits and ready to attack a Dutch dinner. And what a fab dinner it was too! We chose the Smoked Salmon Pancake stuffed with a mushroom sauce for our savory course and a pear and cinnamon pancake for dessert.  The place closed at 10. 30 pm and we walked in at 10.25pm—but the staff were kind enough to seat us and serve us at top speed. An hour later, we had tucked into an enormous meal and had taken pictures to mark the ticking of another item from my To-Do List.

And so it was that my first day in London came to a close. I had to pinch myself a couple of times while on the bus to believe that I was back again so soon—in fact, it seems as if I have never left. It is now 12.30 pm and I am now still full of beans. Hopefully, I will fall asleep just as soon as I hit the pillow.

Until tomorrow, cheerio…

Chelsea Calling: Vintage Jewelry, Lunch at The Ivy, A Stroll, Mass at St. Paul’s, Kensington

London

It was all about Chelsea today–an upscale part of London that I have adored ever since I got to know it intimately over twenty years ago as we had stayed there for three consecutive summers when Llew’s brother and his late wife lived there. Not much has changed but for the fact that the designer shops get swankier and the Sloan Rangers, as they are known–the city’s most beautiful people–get ever so chic-er.
So I was up again at 6.00 am and spent most of the morning corresponding with folks to get a reasonably-priced B&B for the night I will spend next month in Glasgow. So far no luck. Everything seems chocobloc! I’m also trying to find accommodation for my travels in Eastern Europe with Chriselle–but that is several weeks away. Glasgow is far more urgent…
I had toast with Nutella and peanut butter today with a cup of coffee–it made a nice change. Then, a quick shower, a review of the items I would cover and I was off. I love planning each day on a little yellow post-It. It keeps me on track and enables me to see on paper how my day is likely to shape up.
I took the District Line Tube to Sloan Square–a whole hour earlier than I was expected to get there to meet a friend for lunch.

Vintage Jewelry Shopping on The King’s Road:
Regular readers of this blog know that one of the great joys of my time in London is browsing through the thrift stores or what the Brits call “charity shops” in the posh neighborhoods of Chelsea, Knightsbridge and Greenwich.  I have found the most adorable vintage jewelry and antique scarves for which I have basically paid a song. So on every trip to London, since I am not given to shopping on the High Street and since it is the one-of-a-kind item that has always taken my fancy, these are the shops that give me the greatest pleasure.
And so before my luncheon appointment, I browsed in the Oxfam shop (where I found a lovely vintage bracelet by the designer company Les Nerieds) and at the Trinity Hospice shop at the very end of the King’s Road where I had a true knock-out discovery. There is the window was the most stunning necklace and bracelet set you ever did see. I popped in, inquired after it and was informed that it had been placed in the window exactly five minutes previously! I did not need to think about it too long–the price wasn’t going down and knowing vintage shopping, as I do, I knew the demand for it would only go up. I tried the necklace on and loved it, tried the bracelet on for size and since it fit perfectly–that was it. It was wrapped and bagged and the set happily went home with me. A set that dated from the 1950s was in my happy possession. I have no idea when exactly I will wear it–but someday soon, I will.

Lunch at The Bluebird—Not!
I had made plans to meet Mr. Bande Hasan, former banking colleague of Llew’s and a long-time family friend, for lunch and a walk. Having recently retired as CEO of a bank in London, he has more time on his hands now than he ever did. When he suggested that he accompany me on my walks around London, I jumped at the idea–as I would be grateful for his company and because there is so much I learn in our conversational exchanges.
But first, to fortify ourselves for the stroll ahead, it made sense to settle down to lunch and since Mr. Hasan asked me to select a place, I thought of The Bluebird, Terence Conran’s restaurant. Accordingly, we made the appointment. But when we arrived there, after a happy reunion, we discovered that the restaurant is under renovation. Hence, only open-air terrace seating was available. What’s worse, it so happened that the gas supply in the eatery had failed. All we could get was salads or poached eggs! Well, no dice. We weren’t going to one of London’s most famous places to eat a mere salad.
Excusing ourselves, we bid the hapless waitress goodbye and left. We were sure to find something suitable as we walked towards Sloan Square, we supposed.

Unforgettable Lunch at The Ivy, Chelsea Gardens:
Well, guess where we ended up? At none other than The Ivy–one of the city’s most reputed eateries. The flagship restaurant is at the West End, but the one in Chelsea has an almost identical menu.  We were thrilled to be seated despite lacking a reservation and although we were told we’d have to vacate our table by 2. 30 pm, we had ample time to dally over lunch before we hit the streets.
Our meal was superb–which is what you expect from a place with The Ivy’s reputation. For starters, we shared a salad with watermelon, feta cheese, heirloom tomatoes and olives in a balsamic vinaigrette. It was a great start to the meal. As coincidence would have it, since we were seated in a most traditional English restaurant, we both opted for the Fish and Chips–great minds, after all, think alike! And our cod was lovely. The batter was crispy and light, the fish flaking to the touch. Served with tartar sauce and very thick chips, as well as malt vinegar, it made a very filling meal indeed. Dessert, we thought, was best shared–except that my companion did not even take a taste of the Lemon Meringue Baked Alaska which I will not forget in a hurry. It was indeed as nice a meal as I would imagine–and it make a welcome change from the sandwiches I have been lunching on practically every day!

Off to Discover Chelsea:
Replete with our meal, we strolled to Sloan Square for the start of our walk in Chelsea. By the way, Chelsea Clinton got her name from this area. I once heard an interview with Bill Clinton in which he said that soon after he and Hilary were married, they found themselves in London. Strolling early one morning in Chelsea, they so fell in love with the area that they decided if they ever had a daughter, they would name her Chelsea. And that’s a true story, folks!
The Royal Court Theater that has been active since the 1930s and that debuted most of the plays of George Bernard Shaw is a centerpiece of Sloan Square. I once watched a wonderful play here and then had a light dinner with some California academic friends.  From there, we walked through a gorgeous street lined on both sides with identical terraced houses designed by Hans Sloan and from there we entered the vast area known as Ranelagh Gardens–venue, each year, of the famous Chelsea Flower Show. Visiting this exhibition, the last time in lived in London, was one of the highlights of my year then.

Knocking Around the Chelsea Royal Hospital:
A few meters ahead found us in the grounds of the Chelsea Royal Hospital. Not to be confused with a place where the sick are treated, the word ‘hospital’ in this case derives from the word ‘hospitality’. It was built in 1672 by King Charles II who was inspired by his contemporary across the Channel, King Louis XIV, who had created Les Invalides in Paris–a vast army barracks, if you like, for retired or wounded soldiers. Charles set the greatest architect of his time, Sir Christopher Wren, to the task–and the result is the superbly landscaped and planned series of buildings on the banks of the River Thames at Chelsea.
The buildings look down upon the three sides of a quadrangle that is graced by a gilded statue of Charles II as a gladiator. On one side of the structure, under a lovely clock, visitors can go inside to find the door to a chapel (also built to Wren’s design) on one side and a vast dining room on the other. I had once attended Mass in this chapel with my friend Jane–and who do you think was inside, also attending Mass then? Why, none other than Baroness Thatcher, former Prime Minister of Britain!
Although we were able to enter the Chapel, we found the dining room locked. Still, in strolling around the property, we chanced to enter a Museum where we were able to speak to some of the pensioners who are clad, on some occasions, in long scarlet coats with tri-cornered black hats (like soldiers from the eighteenth century). Their many medals, emblems of honor, earned on the battle field, tinkle as they pass by–although one of them jocularly told me, “I get them on E-bay!”
By the time we arrived at the little pub on the premises known as The Chelsea Pensioner and finished watching a game of bowls on the lawn, it was time to leave and explore the spacious lawns of the Duke of York’s property which led us straight back to the King’s Road.

Tea and Mass with my Chelsea Friends:
At 4.30 pm, we called a halt to our walk and took  the same bus together. I had plans to meet my friends Cynthia and Michael for tea at their place on Sloan Street and ten minutes later, I was enjoying a cuppa and a flapjack. Then, half an hour later, I left with Cynthia for Mass at the Church of St. Paul in Kensington–a Mass said by Bishop Michael (who had left earlier) and attended by a grand congregation of exactly four! Still, it was superb to see my friends again and to spend a very relaxed evening with them. I enjoyed our walk to the church and back as we went past the Jumeira Hotel with its Bentleys and other such luxury cars leading to it. It was a day tailor-made for walking and I feel very blessed indeed about these soul-lifting days.

Back Home for Dinner:
It was about 7.45 pm when I walked in my door. After my big lunch, I decided on a very light dinner of soup and salad with ice-cream for dessert. I made a couple of calls to my friends Susan and Rahul, caught up with my email, Facetimed with Llew, wrote this blog and got ready for bed.
After about twelve days of practically my own company and none else, I was beyond excited to have spent almost all of it in the company of caring and very sincere friends.
Until tomorrow, cheerio…

Being a Sloan Ranger in Chelsea and Knightsbridge


Tuesday, August 6, 2013:
London
Being a Sloan Ranger in Chelsea and Knightsbridge

            My day began with 8.00 am Mass at St. Paul’s Cathedral that I attended with my friend Cynthia whose husband, Bishop Michael was saying it. It was the feast of the Transfiguration of our Lord and was, therefore, said in the special American Chapel in the back of the cathedral—a chapel that was created by the people of Great Britain in appreciation of American effort in World War II and in memory of the Americans who died giving their lives for the defence of Europe. It was a very moving service indeed after which we met a couple of folks from Kerala—one was a Roman Catholic priest from the Bronx in New York, Fr. Jose; and the other was his nephew Shibu John, a scientist with Royal Brompton Hospital in London. Michael ended up inviting the two of them to his place for breakfast so we spent some time over porridge and toast and tea chatting with them. Today was also the morning I decided to go out and get my special breakfast from Paul’s—almond croissant with a hot chocolate (as only Paul can make it). Such yumminess! I carried it over to Amen Court and had it while Cynthia prepared breakfast for her unexpected guests.
           
Off to Chelsea:
            After breakfast, I sat working for a couple of hours. Then, Cynthia and Michael and I set out for Chelsea by Tube to see the flat into which they will soon be moving. We stopped at Trinity Church en route at Sloan Street to pay a visit—it is a beautiful Arts and Crafts Church with stained glass windows by the Pre-Raphaelites William Morris and Edward Burne-Jones. We spent a little while in prayer after which we stopped briefly inside the Jo Malone showroom for a sample spray. It was then time for us to get to the flat and survey it. Michael and Cynthia were so proud and happy to show me their new place. It is a gorgeous flat, bright, light, spacious and yet not overwhelming. They are indeed deeply blessed to have it. We sat and had a cup of coffee together and then I was off, leaving them to get back home.
Becoming a Sloan Ranger:
            I spent the next few hours doing one of the things I most love to do when I am in London—dallying on the King’s Road and browsing through its thrift shops for antique jewelry and vintage finds. On and off the 22 bus I stepped, stopping off at all the stores that are my usual haunts. And I rode all the way to the Mary Portas shop at Parson’s Green. Indeed it was my lucky day because I found a genuine Sadler’s Brown Betty teapot, an antique hand painted porcelain cup and saucer to add to my collection, an interesting necklace with twin interlocked hearts and a set of four Swarovski crystal candleholders that were all splendid buys. Indeed, as Cynthia put it, I did very well with my vintage browsing. It was also great to simply slink around Sloan Square and Sloan Street like the Sloan rangers of the 60s. Interestingly, I did actually enter the Vivienne Westwood store—the very place from which the designer made her daring debut in punk fashion that heralded the arrival of punk culture. It is a rather iconic store and I was glad to be there.
Off to Knightsbridge and Harrods:
            I could hardly believe that it is the last week of my stay here in London and I have not yet entered Harrod’s. Had I gone there as soon as I arrived, I might have had a glimpse of their half-yearly sale. There were no sales, alas, but I was there specifically to buy a Christmas pudding to carry off home and I was pleased to have a first shot at their newest stock that has just come in. I also bought a box of biscuits for my friend Bina to whose place I was headed in the afternoon. Harrodsalso gave me a chance to browse a bit in its famous Food Halls, took in its gift sections and then left.

Dinner with Friends in Harrow:

            On the bus across the street I jumped only to get off at Green Park Tube station from where I took the Tube to Euston. I was headed to Harrow to spend the evening with my childhood friend Bina who has lived in London for 25 years with her husband Naveen. At Euston, I followed the signs to the Main Line Overground trains and reached Harrow at 5. 15 pm after dozing off a couple of times on the train! Bina was waiting for me in her car at Harrow and Wealdstone station and off we went to her place.
            We spent the rest of the evening, as always, chatting and catching up. In a short time, Navin arrived and joined us for dinner. Bina and I always have a great deal to say as we go back a long way having first made friends when we were but 13 years old. Our friendship has stood the test of time and it is always a delight to meet up with her and her family in London.
            Dinner was vegetarian as Bina sticks to a non-meat meal on Tuesdays—we had rice and dal with chick peas and a mixed vegetable. By the time we were done with her delicious meal, it was 8. 45 and I was ready to leave. They dropped me back to the station and I took the fast train to get back to Euston from where I got to St. Paul’s on the Tube.
            Cynthia and Michael were admiring and envious of my buys and keep wondering how I am possibly going to carry these loads off to the States—frankly, I am wondering too! I had a bowl of vanilla ice-cream with chocolate sauce and Michael’s homemade flapjacks before I excused myself and went up to bed.           

Chelsea Pensioners, Chutney Mary Lunch, Notting Hill Carnival

Sunday, August 28, 2011
London

Who’d’ve thunk it? When I awoke this morning, all set to attend Sunday service in a historic Christopher Wren chapel in Chelsea, how could I have known that I would be occupying a seat right opposite Baroness Margaret Thatcher, former Prime Minister of Great Britain? And yet, that was exactly what happened! I’m still beside myself with awe! At 86, she still carries that imperious air that would have been more appropriate half a century ago in the colonies than it was in the small, intimate friendly space of a chapel. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Virgin Atlantic Offers a Gift:
My day began with the bleak news from Virgin Atlantic that the earliest confirmed seat available to me was a week away–next Sunday. When I recovered from the shock of being stuck in London for another week, I put my Positive Thinking Hat on and figured that if the weather gods had conspired to gift me a bonus week in my favorite city, well…who was I to complain? So on I marched towards what turned out to be a glorious day, weather-wise. After breakfast, I hopped on the bus to Chelsea while most of London was having a lazy lie-in on August Bank Holiday Weekend.

Browsing Through Chelsea:
Because I had arrived too early for morning service at the Chapel of Chelsea Royal Hospital, I browsed through my favorite interior design stores on Pimlico Road (Linley was closed for renovation but Joanna Wood is having a sale!). I thought of the newly-wed Clintons, Bill and Hilary, who many moons ago, on their honeymoon, while browsing in similar fashion through Chelsea, on a similar deserted morning, had so fallen in love with the hamlet that they’d decided then and there that if they ever had a daughter, they would name her after one of London’s poshest areas. Well…the rest is history.

The Chelsea Pensioners’ Parade:
By and by, I did make my way to the grand green precincts of the Royal Hospital whose grounds boast the work of some of Britain’s best-known architects (Christopher Wren designed the main buildings and chapel and John Soane designed the stable blocks). I was headed for the 11 am service but before it begins, there is the ceremonial Sunday Morning Parade that starts at 10.30 (another one of London’s most closely-guarded secrets, unknown to the run-of-the-mill tourist). I positioned myself on the lawn to get the best pictures. Not a lot of people were present to watch an old British custom that involves the Inspection of the Pensioners (retired army personnel) by their Sergeant Major. At 10.30, the many pensioners who were dotted around the premises smartly attired in their red jackets, black tricorn hats, white gloves and medals tinkling on their lapels, rose to attention and took their positions on the main lawns as a drummer kept up a marching tattoo. The sergeant major in black uniform with an elaborately white feathered helmet barked orders at the troops who then were inspected individually. Each one gave him their names and rank. The ritual lasted about 15 minutes and had all the pomp and ceremony at which the British usually excel. When a whistle blew to end it, the pensioners trooped back under Wren’s giant columns and all but disappeared. Only the few female pensioners (who raised many an eyebrow when they joined the retirement community a couple of years ago) entered the chapel and stayed for the entire service.

That’s when Lady Thatcher walked–or rather limped–in. With the assistance of a walking stick and the company of an equally imperious companion (slim, straight-backed, poker-faced–think Diana Rigg playing Miss Danvers in Rebecca), she slid slowly into her seat wearing a vivid green coat-dress, a string of pearls, matching button ear-rings and a pearl brooch. I noticed that although she participated in the service, she did not respond verbally at all until it came time to sing God Save the Queen–and then she was active! Although she is now visibly only a shadow of the Iron Lady we well remember, there is no mistaking her sharp profile and the sweetness of her smile–which I saw when she placed her offering in the circulating bag. I gathered later that it is four weeks since she has felt well enough to attend service. She is a regular worshipper in this chapel and, in recognition of her patronage, has the Margaret Thatcher Infirmary in the grounds named after her.

The service was superb. As always, you cannot touch Anglican clergy for the quality of their homilies and this one, by Chaplain Dick Whittington (yes, that is really his name!) who as seen active combat himself, was inspiring–the sort of homily that makes me wonder if the preacher has me in mind when he is delivering it. Great singing from a wonderful choir, great playing from a wonderful organist, great reading from a wonderful Lector–I mean everything was just perfect. The Wren mahogany altar was richly carved with a splendid ceiling fresco by a father-son team of Italian artists (one did bodies well, the other did good faces!) but their names eluded me as the tour guide pensioner called Tom (who had befriended me before the parade) could not remember it!

As soon as I’d entered the chapel, I spied Jane, the lawyer from Yorkshire who had combined a meeting in London (or T’Smoke, as she calls it), to meet me. We’ve been Twitter friends for about a year. Her mother is an Anglo-Indian and given our common background and my current research, she was keen to meet me. Well, there she was, as she had hoped, in the chapel in time for service. We instantly recognized each other and sat together through the service.

A Private Tour of Chelsea Royal Hospital Grounds:
When it was done, we trooped out and there was Tom Mullaney, a pensioner who had offered to give me a private tour of the premises. I introduced him to Jane and off we went from one lovely quadrangle to the next and to Soane’s stable block–each brilliantly gilded in the sunshine. At the mess, Tom offered to buy us both a drink because “he was dying for a pint”. Jane, who was driving opted for OJ, I had a coffee and in the company of a hearty lot of pensioners and their family members or friends (the premises are not open to the public), we found out a bit about Tom. After the parade, pensioners are expected to change out of their red jackets and into pale blue shorts with navy blue pants–a more casual form of dress and that was how Tom was garbed. At the end of our time together, he gave me his very stylish buisness card and urged me to give him a call to schedule another complete tour later inthe week (which I shall probably do with Shanaz and Ara).

Lunch at Chutney Mary:
Then, it was time for Jane and me to enter her spiffy nautical blue Prius and off we went to lunch–her choice was the very classy and very appropriate Anglo-Indian restaurant called Chutney Mary in Chelsea. It had been years since Llew and I had dinner there once and it brought back sharp memories for me of a very companionable time we had spent there with Llew’s brother and his wife at the tail end of one of our superb London summer holidays. The food was just fantastic especially the starter we both chose–grilled scallops with a tomato chutney on a delicately saffron-flavored bed of sauce that was so good it deserved to be sopped up with naan (which we requested). Jane chose a terrifically fragrant Chicken Biryani done in a green masala and I went for the Calcutta Prawn Curry with Naan which offered about six plump prawns in a delicious sauce. With garlic naan, the meal was made memorable. For ‘pudding’, we both chose Srikhand Eton Mess–an Anglo-Indian take on Britain’s famous Eton Mess that usually features whipped cream, meringues and strawberries. This one had saffron srikhand with fresh mangoes and meringues. So creative and so yummy! I am happy to see that Chutney Mary has lost none of its excellence although Jane was adamant that far better Indian restaurants exist in Bradford where she lives. I found her compoany fascinating. She is a warm, witty, highly intelligent and very polite person indeed–really lovely. I was so glad we met and that I was able to get to know her a little better.

The Noisy Notting Hill Carnival:
It was time for Jane to move on to her business meeting and for me to re-connect with Shahnaz and Azra who had arrived at the Chapel too late to find the great doors closed. They had strolled through the lawns and moved on and when I did call them, discovered that they were already at the Notting Hill Carnival which was the next item on my agenda. Jane obligingly dropped me at Notting Hill Tube station which was already swarming with crowds. For the Notting Hill Carnival is one of Europe’s biggest street fairs and attracts massive crowds. Since this was the first time I actually happened to be in London during the carnival and since it happens only once a year on August Bank Holiday Weekend, attending it was a no-brainer.

Police were thicker than flies (what with the fears that had arisen from the recent riots) through the Notting Hill area and as I made my way through the maze of streets with their beautiful terraced houses and gardens, I followed the sound of the Caribbean steel drums to the actual parade where floats and hundreds of carnival revellers went slowly by to the sound of soca and reggae music. The carnival has a Caribbean flavor and jerk chicken was being offered from food stands all along the route. Liquor was being openly consumed on the streets and young folks were clearly having a blast. I had been warned repeatedly by friends to watch my belongings carefully and the police on the streets also advised me to do the same each time I approached them for directions. Today happened to be the Children’s Parade and loads of little ones, gaudily costumed, were in the parade (with several full-grown people that I would hardly label children!). It was noisy, tiring (all that walking), a bit crazy. But at the end of the day, I’m glad I went and discovered what all the hype surrounding the Notting Hill Carnival is about.

On my way back, I veered far away from the crowds and noise and was fortunate enough to chance upon the Prince Edward Pub at Prince Square where I was able to use a loo because wild pachyderms could not induce me to use one of the Portapotties dotted around the place. Knowing that I was London-centered for the next week, I walked to Queensway Tube station (Notting Hill Station was closed) and bought myself a seven-day bus pass for 17 pounds–which regular readers of this blog know is my favorite form of London transportation (and so cheap too!)

Then, of course, I changed three buses, sat on the top deck at the picture window each time and made my way home. I spent the evening resting and catching up on email and discovering that Southport had lost TV, internet and phone connections–so Llew and I would remain incommunicado until further notice. His cell phone and electricity are still functioning, however, so we will be in touch no matter how long power restoration might take. With my hosts out for the day, their son Edward proved to be the perfect host, offering me dinner (Domino’s pizza) and his company as I sat back and chilled.

It had turned out to be a glorious day in more ways than one and I am thrilled that I was positive enough to make lemonade out of the lemon that had been handed me by Virgin Atlantic in the morning.