Oh what a night!

Well if it's November then it must be another birthday.  Lizzie made plans for me this year, but had kept everything very closely under wraps for what seems like forever.  This week it all came to light, and after a birthday morning of a quick breakfast and a little present opening, it was off to Exeter to catch the 10.25 to London Waterloo.  A whirlwind of an afternoon later, and following dinner in a delightful Italian restaurant (where I had courgette flowers on my pizza,) it was off to the West End, to the Piccadilly Theatre for the outstanding show, Jersey Boys.  For anybody unfamiliar, this is the story of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, and their rise from down-and-out Belleville to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.  A journey of humour, emotion, and hit-after-hit being smashed off the stage by the best vocals I've ever witnessed at the theatre.  Sherry, Walk Like a Man, My Eyes Adored You, Working My Way Back to You... the list goes on, and the tunes stayed in our minds - and I dare say, our dreams - for the rest of the night.

This treat wasn't the end of our trip to the capital though.  After a night in a little hotel on Gower Street, we awoke to find ourselves in the middle of attractive, affluent Camden, a lovely area full of "real London" scenes - big red buses splashing through the puddles, suited workers on their way to the office, tourists picking through the pavements whilst shielding themselves from the elements with over-sized brollies.  We made for the corner of Gower and Torrington, to the warmth and comfort of the five-storey Waterstones, the stunning type of bookshop that you only get in London, and somewhere in which I could have lingered for days.  Of course, I couldn't pass by without making at least a couple of purchases - a beautifully illustrated volume on Greek Mythology, a book for Lizzie called The Fox and the Star and, what is essentially a children's book, entitled L is for London.  There's something about this particular book that simply grabbed me - It is reminiscent of those childhood days when I made my first faltering steps in London, and the hours spent afterwards, poring over the map with amazement and wonder.  This book, some 23 years after that, just encapsulates everything that is London for me.

Lovely books from London (the Timeline book bought later from Foyles)

L is for London

The rain never stopped as we made our way to Somerset House, destination the south wing, for the exhibition TinTin: Herge's Masterpiece.  The exhibition explored the man behind the great boy detective through a series of original cartoon strips, sketches, watercolours and finished artwork, not to mention a few fabulous models.  Herge's fascination with architecture was immediately apparent, his eye for detail unsurpassed, his genius beyond question.  It all culminated in a brilliant recreation of Marlinspike Hall, Captain Haddock's ancestral home (see Red Rackham's Treasure,) with silhouettes of some of Herge's most memorable characters seen at the windows.  Professor Calculus, Bianca Castafiore, Thomson (but not Thompson)...  As is often the case with Herge, it is the subtleties that make the greatest pleasure.

Marlinspike Hall

 With time on our hands, and no desire to travel far, we next made for Russell Square and the always-fascinating British Museum.  As everybody knows, the artefactual wonders contained within its walls are second-to-none, and every gallery feels like a joy and a privilege to peruse.  We spent some time with the Ancient Greeks and the Egyptians, before moving onto the Assyrians and Middle East, which acted as a poignant and timely reminder that such ancient treasures are currently being torn to shreds and smashed to dust in that part of the world.  The sadness and horror the world shares at such news only strengthens the importance of world-class museums such as the BM - they preserve not only artefacts, but our entire human story.

Assyrian attendant god, 810-800BC

Tomb stela, 11th Dynasty, Year 14 of Montuhotep II, c.2041BC

Deciding not to use the Tube, as we did, really gave the opportunity to piece together the different parts of London that always appear so disconnected in our minds.  From Tottenham Court Road to Covent Garden, Russell Square to Somerset House, central London is an easy and accessible (if wet and busy) walk that is far more interesting and enjoyable than watching the blackness zoom past the window.  Crossing the enormity of Waterloo Bridge, with its views of Parliament, the City, and the ever-present Thames fading soulfully into the increasing drizzle of the evening, I very much got the sense of a city rediscovered, the London I visited when I was only 9 or 10 years old, back at last after so many years of frustrating crowds, high prices and general exhaustion.  Maybe I'm starting to chill out now I'm just that bit older, and can see the city in a different way.  It could be because we rejected the Underground and avoided the crowds.  Or perhaps the reason for my most enjoyable trip to London - ever - lies in the love shown towards me, by the wonderful lady who secretly booked it all up, picked the show she knew I was craving to see, and arranged it around an exhibition on one of my favourite book series.  Tonight as I write this blog, I feel so happy, so lucky, and so loved - and really, what else could anybody want for their birthday?

Drizzly London