More about London, One Day at a Time

This bit of tourist activity quite amused a fellow commuter

 Our rental in Bowes Park was about half an hour by Tube from central London so when we headed out in the morning we were pretty much out for the day. Which was fine, of course, especially as there was a nice breakfast spot between our rental and the Bounds Green Station. 

Breakfast at the Renaissance Cafe

 And let me just interject here that possibly one of my very most favorite things about spending time in England was that no matter where you ordered tea, it was proper tea. None of the nonsense of being given a mug of tepid water with a teabag sitting alongside of it. Far more often than not, an order of tea came in a tea pot and, until I learned to say something in advance, there was a little pitcher of milk as well. For the record, I also miss the porridge with fresh fruit served at the Renaissance Cafe. Le sigh.

 On that first day (which happened to be Thanksgiving, not that the British care about that) we weren't sure what we were going to do--other than that we had a dinner date with a fellow American at Bodean's BBQ--but the helpful "London above the Piccadilly Line" poster on the tube (see earlier post) informed us that we could easily reach the Brompton Cemetery so we got off at the Earls Court station and somehow managed to find our way to what turned out to be a lovely spot.

"The Conspirator" by Gilbert Whyman (#gallery286) encountered en route

 Brompton is considerably smaller than, say, Highgate, but it had no shortage of weeping angel statuary, was home to the most obliging of proper English robins, and, of course, it is the site of Kit Lambert's grave which turned Scott all gushing fan boy, much to my surprise and delight. Some photos then:

Graveyard in the City (a lesser-known Beverly Nichols title, perhaps)

Don't turn your back.

Don't even blink!

She may have lost a hand, but she's not 'armless.

Just the sweetest little fellow ever (though maybe overadjusted)

Scott and the grave of "The man who made The Who"

 Oh, and Brompton apparently has a resident cat as well:

"None shall pass . . . oh, are those tuna treats?"

 Oddly, I took no photos at the Brompton Cemetery cafe, but trust me: the tea and soup were excellent. Most charming of all, perhaps, were the blankets on offer for use if you wanted to sit at one of the outside tables but found it a bit too cold for comfort. It's a very civilized country, England. I should also mention that in addition to the obliging robin, Brompton has some loud and colorful ring-necked parakeets and a number of atmospheric ravens and/or crows. I said I wanted to come back in the morning one day, but--to no one's surprise--that never happened.

Of Thanksgiving dinner at Bodean's BBQ in Soho, I will only say that the company was so excellent that it made up for the truly awful food. Who knew you could burn mashed potatoes? And then serve them to paying customers? Or make inedible pumpkin tartlets? But, as I say, the company was pleasant, and the location was convenient for stopping in at Primark to buy a sweater or two since London turned out to be considerably chillier than we'd anticipated. And Oxford Circus was all lit up for Christmas too, making it quite cheery. It was a later evening that we returned to visit the Lush store in that neighborhood, but I'm going to toss those photos here because, my goodness, Lush has changed its London look since I visited the original store in Covent Garden nearly thirty years ago. Then it had a handwritten "We Are Not a Cheese Shop" sign in the window. In 2024, the shop on Oxford Street looks more like this:

Bathbombs display

 

I promise--actual art is coming soon!

ps. Still not art, but added for Alex:

Seeing if I can't travel in relative space and time to an era of less crowded Bath streets. [Alternative caption: the TARDIS on Earls Court Road]