Tag Archive | Theatre

The Jubilee Walk –Part 3

May4

Monday, May 4, 2009
London

When I awoke at 6.45 am today, the silence outside my window told me that it was a holiday. I had an early breakfast (went back to two slim slices of multigrain bread with Three Fruits Marmalade from Sainsbury and a cup of coffee–deciding to return to the carbs but go easy on them as I have reached my goal weight), then returned to my PC to start transcribing the interview I did with Dulcie Jacob. In-between I responded to email that keep trickling in as a response to the mass mailing I did yesterday to thank folks for their entries in my Golden Memories Album.

With the interview in the bag, I spoke to my parents in Bombay, then had a light lunch–a slice of pizza and an apple–and set off for Piccadilly and Knightsbridge to run a couple of errands. Holborn is such a commercial area that on a holiday there are so few residents here. Most of the businesses were shut and with some buses off the road, I entered the 242 to Holborn, then switched to a 38 that took me to Regent’s Street. I headed straight for the Visit Britain office to pick up the two London Passes I had booked for Chriselle and myself together with the 3-day Travelcards that will allow us to use the city’s transport system to get from one attraction to the next. With Chriselle’s departure around the corner, I am getting really excited about seeing her again.

I then hopped into an old Routemaster Number 9 bus from Piccadilly headed towards Knightsbridge and went straight to Harrod’s to buy some gifts for the French family with whom I will be staying in Paris next week. I know no better gifts to give people than something with the Harrod’s trade mark logo. It really seems to be very much appreciated and it so ‘London’ a gift. With that purchase safely in the bag, I got on the bus and returned home (but not before I tried out a few fragrances at the Jo Malone counter and gave myself a nice deep penetrating nectarine and honey mask with their Vitamin E and protein serum. I wiped it off after fifteen minutes with their rosemary and lavender toner. Lovely!

The Jubilee Walk–Part 3:
Back home, I deposited my buys, checked email and left my flat again–this time I was headed to Waterloo Bridge to continue with the Jubilee Walk–Part 3. It was an overcast day and the sun stayed stubbornly hidden behind a cloudy sky. The breeze was also pretty chilly and I wished I had worn a warmer jacket though my thick merino wool sweater served me well. London was left to visitors and Londoners today and it was clear to me how many numbers of people commute into the city to work. On a day when they are not required to be at their desks, the city appears empty. This was another rather interesting observation that I made.

My first stop was the National Theater Box office where I hoped to find some way to exchange some tickets I had purchased for another day. But since there was no way out, I will have to figure out some other way to resolve my dilemma. And with that, I began my walk at exactly
3. 45 pm.

The Jubilee Walk (Part 3) today all along the South Bank took me past some of the area’s most recognizable landmarks such as the National Theatre, of course, which I think is a terribly ugly building, the Tate Modern (another ugly building that is redeemed by the unusual lines of Wobbly Bridge (the Millennium Bridge), the Globe Theater which must be one of London’s most unusual structures, the OXO Building, the new City Hall (Sir Norman Foster’s handiwork that is very similar to the glass dome on top of the Reichstag in Berlin (same concept–a winding spiral staircase inside a glass dome), and Tower Bridge that is getting a new lick of paint (in preparation for the Olympics, perhaps?). The absence of the sun’s rays made it difficult to get good pictures but I did pose for a few and asked a variety of people to click for me.

One of the more interesting aspects of my walk today was the lifting of the Tower Bridge’s drawbridge that opened up to allow a sailing craft with a very tall mast to pass by under it. It was fun indeed to watch it rise and then lower itself so smoothly. Of course, all foot and vehicular traffic came to a standstill as everyone stopped to watch this fascinating and rather rare phenomenon. Needless to say, I clicked away hoping to see the drawbridge in various stages of operation.

Though for the most part, I have traversed these paths several times before, there were some aspects of this walk that were new to me. For example, I had never gone under London Bridge and I found it rather spooky and very reminiscent of the novels of Dickens. So it did not surprise me to find my notes pointing to the fact that Bill Sykes killed Nancy at this spot in Oliver Twist. The London Dungeon is not too far away and walking by it, I saw a brochure which indicated to me very clearly that this exhibit is not my cup of tea! I also passed through the Hay’s Galleria for the very first time–I had read about this place in one of my English Home magazines. Though it was less frenzied than it might be on a working day, it was fun to sit inside and rest my weary feet for a while.

A little later, I was crossing ornate Tower Bridge and finding myself on the other side where I followed the Jubilee Route that took me to St. Katherine’s Dock with its yacht wharf and its restaurants. Back in the vicinity of the Tower of London, I posed for a picture with an obliging Yeoman Guard (one of the Beefeaters) with Tower Bridge in the background and then stopped to take a close look at Traitor’s Gate and tried to imagine all the unfortunate souls who were led to their deaths through this entrance (Sir Thomas More and Anne Boleyn, for instance). How wretched they might have felt!

At this point, I passed a kiosk run by Paul’s Patisserie and since their hot chocolate is my favorite in the city and the wind was so biting, it felt good to nurse the paper cup in my frozen palms as I sipped the elixir slowly. At this point, my quest for a bus to get back home took me through a most convoluted route past the Guildhall that I was seeing for the first time until I found one that could get me to my doorstep.

By the time I reached home at 6 pm, I was starving but my email kept me busy as did a call from Llew. I was able to eat dinner (a cup of asparagus soup, Scotch egg, and my Pear Salad) only at 8 pm by which time I was dreaming of a refreshing shower and a good long and very deep sleep.

Celebrating Shakespeare’s Birthday–in Stratford and Warwick

Apr26

Sunday, April 26, 2099
Stratford-on-Avon and Warwick

Though I switched off my bedside lamp at 1.30 am last night, I did not fall asleep for at least an hour. Awful tossing and turning and vain efforts to count sheep left me deeply frustrated. Yet, I awoke at about 7. 00. So it is little wonder that I was yawning loudly and frequently in Stephanie’s car on our way back from Warwick this evening. We’d spent the day in Warwickshire (visiting his birth place of Stratford-on-Avon–for the third time, in my case– which is the second most popular tourist town in the country after London) in celebration of Shakespeare’s birthday. Can you believe that he was born and died on the same day–April 23!!! Stephanie couldn’t. ” How weird is that?” she kept asking for she simply had never heard of anyone coming into this world and leaving it forever on the same day.

Now that Stephanie lives in Richmond and I have a bus pass again (and the Tube fare to get there and back is a whopping 7 pounds), I thought I would try to figure out the way to get there by bus. And using Journey Planner, I discovered that it wasn’t difficult at all, especially on a Sunday morning when there is barely any traffic and the bus flies. I was there in about an hour and a half and that’s just because I wasn’t sure where to make bus connections. On the way back it took me just an hour and ten minutes–on the Tube it takes an hour–so it felt really great to find the way without having to spend a bomb on the Tube ride.

Stratford-on-Avon–Shakeapeare’s Beautiful Birthplace:
Stephanie and I first made our way to Stratford-on-Avon (which, I finally found out, is pronounced exactly like the name of the cosmetics company). It took us about an hour and a half to get there which meant that we were parking at the Stratford Leisure Center a little after 12 noon. Stratford was swarming with visitors–not just because this is The Bard’s birthday weekend but because the Stratford Triathlon was also held today (the same day as the London Marathon) and hundreds of people had arrived on what was a splendid day indeed.

As usual, we were famished by the time we reached the town and headed straight for food. Only since my low-carb diet lays strict restrictions, I could only eat the fried fish part of a fish and chips platter that I found at a place called The Golden Bee–certainly not the best fish and chips I have eaten. It was soggy and greasy and over-fried and quite disastrous. Stephanie had gone off to see Shakespeare’s birthplace (I have seen it before, so did not go inside). When we did hook up again, we walked through an antiques fair where I was delighted to find a watch at a rock bottom price. It felt so good to have a wrist watch again!

Our next port of call was Trinity Church with its beautiful grave yard and moss-covered grave stones. This is the church in which Shakespeare was baptised and then buried. Inside, I made the discovery that visitors are required to pay 1. 50 pounds to visit Shakespeare’s grave as it is badly in need of funds and figures it could make some money this way. On the two occasions in the past when I have visited this church–once, 22 years ago, when I was a student at Oxford and then about 10 years ago when I had returned with Llew and Chriselle during our tour of the Cotswolds–we had seen the grave without paying any money. While Stephanie went up to the altar to take a look, I used the opportunity to say a few prayers in the church before we walked out again on to the sun-flooded banks of the River Avon where boats plied on the swan-filled waters.

En route, we had seen the other important Tudor and Elizabethan buildings for which the town is known such as Nash’s House and Hall’s Croft. Since this is the week on which Shakespeare’s birthday is celebrated, there were yellow flags lining the streets and arrangements in the garden that created his portrait in fresh flowers–a rather unusual touch. Poetry readings and a literary festival were a part of the week-long celebrations but both Stephanie and I lacked the enthusiasm to do much more than stroll around at leisure.

Everyone felt suitably festive in the bracing spring air. For me, one of the best parts of England in the spring is the opportunity to admire the incredible chestnut tress with their profuse large candle-like white flowers that we do not see at all in the United States. Also putting on a showy display of lavender blooms all over the stone walls of aged houses are wisteria vines. It is impossible to pass them by without stopping to examine their complicated construction–they hang in heavy bunches, looking for all the world, like grapes. Flower-beds in all the public gardens are blooming luxuriously with flowers in a shocking variety of colors and I have been taking pictures galore. Oh, it sure feels good to enjoy England in the spring time!

It was just 3 pm when we were done strolling around Stratford. We were both disappointed the The Royal Shakespeare Company’s Swan Theater is undergoing massive renovations and has been closed down temporarily. All shows are being performed in the nearby Courtauld Theatre which we visited briefly. Stephanie was not interested in seeing the home of Shakespeare’s wife–Anne Hattaway’s Cottage in nearby Shottery–even though I told her that it is one of England’s prettiest thatched cottages with a delightful cottage garden. She was more keen on seeing Warwick Castle which is only an 8-mile ride away.

Arrival in the Town of Warwick:
I thought it was a a capital idea and into the car we went. Just fifteen minutes later, we arrived in the medieval town of Warwick which I had never seen before. We headed straight for the castle but by then it was already 3.45 pm and we discovered that entry fee was almost 17 pounds. Neither one of us thought it worthwhile to spend so much money on a ticket that we’d only be able to use for a couple of hours. We skirted the periphery of the Castle property spying some showy peacocks in the Elizabethan Knot Garden before we decided to discover the town on foot as we had already spent money on the parking meter.

Warwick is one of England’s most intact medieval towns. It has all the ingredients that make a town a tourist attraction and we had a chance to sample some of those: the River Avon flows gently through it (as it does at Stratford) and we were able to see a few oarsmen rowing their boats in the water. There is the beautiful stone Church of St. Mary with its blue-faced clock staring benignly upon the bylanes of the town that are lined with listed houses. Then, there is, of course, the massive 13th century castle which until very recently was inhabited by a family of Dukes. There was several medieval buildings with exposed beams and stucco walls including the stunning Lord Leycester’s Hospital which is a misnomer as it was never a hospital at all. It was once the guildhall of the town and then a chantry and a chapel and, ultimately, on being purchased by Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex (and supposedly the only man that Queen Elizabeth I ever really loved), it was turned into homes for former military men –a function it still fulfils. We took some charming pictures of this lovely gabled building before we strolled for a bit in the public gardens that were a riot of colors as flower-beds had sprouted to life bringing tall and stately tulips in their wake.

It was at about 5 pm that we started our drive back home and it was at 8. 30 that I arrived home, tired and very eager to have myself a nice shower and a light dinner, to write this blog and get straight to bed.

Verona–City of Lovers

Mar22

Friday, March 20, 2009
Verona, Italy

Annalisa was tied up all day today in meetings at the University of Padua. Left to my own resources, I decided to take the train to Verona to see yet another beautiful medieval Italian city. After we checked the train schedule, I found that the 9.30 train would work for me. Breakfast followed (Lavazza coffee, Greek yoghurt with cereal and blood orange juice–fiery red and with quite a different delicious flavor) as did a shower and we were off at 9.00, Annalisa dropping me to Vicenza railway station before we said goodbye for the day.

Because it was a Eurostar City express train, I was in Verona within a half hour (day return was 23 euros). Once at Verona (about 10 am), I found the Tourist Information Office at the railway station and, armed with a map and some literature, I made my way out into the city. Verona is a very walkable city (as most Roman cities are), the main monuments clustered around the banks of the River Adige that flows through it in an elaborate S shape–similar to that of the Thames in London.

I walked briskly down Corso Porta Nuova, so-called because it stands at the corner of an old gatehouse wall–the New Door, in other words. Sunshine streamed generously upon the city and warmed me up as temperatures were still low enough to leave a distinct nip in the air. I walked straight towards the massive Roman Arena, stopping to browse at a local street market at Piazza Bra where organically grown fruits and vegetables, farm house cheeses and home-smoked hams and salami gave the area a mouth watering aroma. I resolved to take some of Italy’s gastronomic goodies home to London with me to enjoy them in the comfort of my home.

Last night, the Inspector Morse episode we saw together, Death of the Self, had been set partly in Vicenza and partly in Verona. Annalisa had been exclaiming throughout the screening as she recognized so many of the locations and had personal contacts with some–much to the exasperation of Giacomma whose limited (though very good) English required him to concentrate on every word if he was to follow the plot! The final scenes were set in the Arena in Verona where the main character, an opera singer, performed to a packed crowd. This made me all the more eager to visit the Arena–to walk, as it were, in the footsteps of John Thaw and Kevin Whatley.

The Roman Arena:
But the TV episode had not prepared me for the enormous size of the Arena. I paid the 6 euros entry fee and walked into the world of the Romans for it was built in the 1st century (about 61 AD) and yet exhibited marvelous engineering and construction techniques. How did these Romans manage to do the kind of building they did, I wondered. Then, I remembered slave labor and I ceased to be impressed. The arena was under refurbishment (as so many of Italy’s monuments constantly are) and the main ‘stage’ upon which the opera singer had belted out her arias was hidden behind screened scaffolding.

Nevertheless, the place was atmospheric in the extreme and as I requested fellow travelers to take my pictures against its pink stone stands (most of which are intact). I received a call from Llew (for it was about 11 am at the time). I told him where I was and described the arena and wished we were together. I also did tell him that Annalisa suggested we do a house swap, i.e. she takes over our Connecticut home next summer and we move into her Vicenza apartment at the same time. I thought it was a brilliant idea as Llew has not seen much of Italy at all and but for the few days we will be spending in Rome next month, he hasn’t toured the country. Such an arrangement will allow us to see Italy at leisure, especially the Veneto which Annalisa say offers wonderful walking opportunities in the Lower Alps, the glamor of Lake Garda and all these walled medieval towns, not to mention the proximity to Venice.

A Walk Along the River Adige:
Back outside the Arena, I walked along Via Roma towards Castelvecchio, an impressive 14th century castle built by the Scaligeri dynasty that had once ruled Verona in its medieval heyday. It has been converted into an art gallery and museum but I was more keen to explore the city than remain cloistered indoors. As I walked across the Ponte Scaligero that was packed with school groups out on a field trip (as was the Arena), I took many pictures as the huge ramparts of the castle just begged to be photographed.

Once on the opposite bank of the River Adige, I walked eastwards towards the Duomo or Cathedralwith its grand Romanesque portal. Inside, I made it a point to see Titian’s Assumption. Every one of these Italian churches in the tourist belt charges an admission fee but, I have discovered, that if you wish to enter to say a prayer, you are exempt from paying the fee. This allows the local Italians to continue to use their churches even during tourist visiting hours.

The walk along the river banks was easily one of the best I took on this trip. Not only was the weather perfect for walking but the streets on both sides are lined by grand pallazos, churches whose spires and domes give the skyline a look that is reminiscent of Salzburg in Austria (one of my favorite cities in the world) and a river that glistened softly under romantic bridges that reminded me of Paris. I crossed the Ponte Garibaldi to buy myself some gelato at a gelateria, quite impressed, if I say so myself, by my rapidly growing facility with Italian: “Buon Giorgno, Signora. Gelato per favore. Una pralline, coppa. Cioccolatto”. As Giacommo told me later, it was “Perfect!” I sat outside in the sunshine studying my map and savoring my ice-cream and decided to rest my legs for a while before I set out again, this time towards the Teatro Romano which, Annalisa told me, I must not miss.

The Teatro Romano:
Verona’s Theater Romano is reached across one of the oldest Roman Bridges in the city–the Ponte Pietra or Stone Bridge which reveals its age in the exposed stones with which it is constructed. It is a curving bridge that spans the river quite theatrically indeed and leads you across to the heights of the Roman remains of the old theatre, most of whose stands are still intact–thoug the rest of it is in ruins. I paid the 5 euros entry fee and using the map and the directions climbed the many high steps up into the hidden corners of the complex which, in addition to the remains of a monastery (including really evocative cloisters), houses an archeological museum today.

The highlight of a visit to the Roman Theater, however, is the view of the city from the Grand Terrase–an almost 360 degree vista that offers stunning scenes of the city with its uniformly tiled red roofs, its spires and domes, its lazy river and its scenic bridges. It was a perfect day for photographs and snap away I did. Meanwhile, a quick walk through the rooms of the museum revealed marble sculpture, bronze figurines, bits and pieces of ancient frescoes–nothing very special anywhere but all contributing towards the age and antiquity of the space.

Lunch in the Piazza of the Church of St. Anastasia:
It was time next to cross the Ponte Pietra again and go out in search of the Church of Saint Anastasia which I could see clearly across the banks of the Adige. Its tall spire was very prominent indeed and as I walked along quiet, almost deserted cobbled streets and squares towards the Piazza, I believed that it was these walks that I enjoyed almost as much as the sights I had come to Verona to see.

Unfortunately, almost the entire interior of the church is under heavy renovation which makes tourist visits pointless, but it did offer me an opportunity to marvel at the two holy water stoups that sit upon the carved stone shoulders of two I. Gobbi (or hunchbacks), one being a hundred years older than the other. They made a wonderful pair indeed and after I took pictures, I decided to find myself a small ristorante somewhere for a pasta lunch as it was 2 pm by this time and I was hungry.

I could not have been luckier in my choice of restaurant for right there in the piazza overlooking the grand exterior of the church was a tiny place that offered a variety of pasta preparations for just 5 euros. As I settled myself down, a basket of Italian rolls was placed at the table and with the accompanying olive oil and balsamic vinegar that accompnaied it, I found myself enjoying one of my favorite treats in the world–bread dipped in balsamic vinaigrette. When the waitress arrived at my table, I ordered Fettucine con Fungi (fettucini with mushrooms) and a few minutes later, I was presented with a dish that was superb–I sprinkled on the fresh parmesan-regiano that was available and with some freshly ground pepper cracked all over it, it was one of the most memorable dishes I ate on this trip–not to mention startlingly good value for money.

The Attractions of the Piazza dei Signori:
After a 45 minute rest, it was time for me to leave the quiet and serenity of these untrodden paths behind and venture into the main tourist areas of Verona which I did find out to be around the Piazza dei Signori. This area was buzzing with student groups (I heard many high school American accents). The statue of the poet Dante dominates the square which is surrounded by imposing medieval buildings, almost all of which are official buildings today. Just around the corner in the adjoining square, a great deal of renovation work was going on at the Tombs of the Scaligeri family (mainly by way of stripping these monuments of centuries of accumulated dirt and grime) but I did enter the tiny Santa Maria Antica Church which proclaimed its age boldly in its hushed interior.

It was time, then, to go out in search of the Casa di Romeo, yes, the home of Romeo–the Romeo of Shakeapeare’s play, for Verona, of course, is the great city of the feuding Capulets and Montagues. I found it on a deserted side street, far from the prying eyes of tourists or noisy student groups, its walls, therefore, free of the ugly graffiti that I saw on all the moinuments associated with Juliet!

I passed next through the Piazza del Herbe (which probably got its name from the early produce markets that were held there each week). In modern times, these piazzas serve the needs of tourists looking for cheap trinkets and souvenirs of their visits. The Plalazo dei Raggioni has an imrpessive frontage and the Lion of St. Mark stands sentinel on a tall column (as it does in almost all these medieval cities in the Veneto). I strolled around at leisure, taking in the atmosphere which has remained unchanged in centuries.

Juliet’s House:
Then, since it was not too far away, I decided to pop into the Casa de Guiletta, perhaps Verona’s most popular attraction. No one is certain whether this quiet courtyard that houses the famous balcony is, in fact, the house of the Capulets. But the folks who run the visits to the house as a commercial venture swear that there are enough signs inside to prove that the Capulets did own this home. I refused to pay the steep admission charge (10 euros) to stand on the balcony and have my picture taken, but I did compromise in that I posed below the balcony near the contemporary sculpture of Juliet that adorns the courtyard. Graffiti covers the walls of the entrance and the hundreds of students who move through the space made it clear where it came from. Inside, near the ticket kiosk, is a bronze sculpture of Shakespeare and at every venue associated with the play are appropriate lines from Romeo and Juliet for it was this drama that immortalized the couple and keeps the name of the Montagues and the Capulets still alive in Verona today.

San Fermo Maggiore:
It was time then to leave these crowded tourist attractions behind and move into more interesting architectural monuments such as the Church of San Fermo Maggiore which I found by following my map and asking occasionally for directions. This very interesting church is unique because it is actually two churches–a large Romanesque one that has a fantastic ship’s keel ceiling and beneath it, an older medieval one which sits on top of more excavated ruins. The interiors of these Italian churches are quite unlike any you can see in the rest of Europe and their architectural details always hold tremendous interest for me.

Juliet’s Tomb:
I was left then with just enough time and energy to go in search of Juliet’s Tomb, another popular tourist attraction especially among teenaged students. I paid the 4. 50 euros that allowed me to enter an old pallazo at the base of which is a tomb that is supposed to contain the remains of the young girl who gave her life for her beloved. The space includes a museum which houses an exhibit of rather tattered frescoes and marble sculpture but none of it was worth spending too much time over.

I headed instead to area where the crypt is located. You enter the area through a wrought iron staircase which does proclaim its age loudly and enter into a brick hewn space where the single tomb in rather a battered shape can be seen. I had expected it to be surrounded by other tomb stones as I was always led to believe, from reading Shakespeare’s play, that Juliet was buried in the family tombs. Well, this is a solitary grave with absolutely no marking around it to suggest definitively that it is Juliet’s last resting place. At any rate, the mythology that has developed around the lovers allows such commerically run venues to thrive and though there is no documentary evidence to suggest that it is her grave site, it was certainly atmospheric enough to lead anyone to believe this.

With my feet quite killing me by this point, I decided it to was time to return to Vicenza. I called Annalisa and informed her that I would be taking the earlier train and wondered whether she could pick me up from Vicenza. I did not bargain for the fact that not all trains are express ones. The one I did board was a local and while it did allow me to appreciate the rural parts of the Veneto, it took over an hur to arrive in Vicenza by which time it had turned dark.

Annalisa was awaiting me upon my arrival. On the drive home, she told me that she had had an awful day at work and needed to kick back and relax at home. She decided to take orders from her family for pizza. She called a local pizzeria and ordered a margherita (for Giaccomo), a vegetable one with peppers, aubergine and tomatoes (for Giovanni), a radicchio and Brie one for herself and as we divided the pizzas, I had a chance to taste Italy’s great contribution to international gastronomy and loved every morsel. Over a fruit tart for dessert, we ended our meal and a very full and fascinating day indeed.

I was just as tired as Annalisa was as the sight seeing had taken the steam out of me and it was with great anticipation that I went to bed.