No, really, not a metaphor, it’s like so grey it’s dark at noon. It was…
Uncle Bill Puts on Uniform
A lovely autumn day. Took the tube south to Kensington Gardens. It’s an obligatory tourist thing. They ask you at immigration upon departure. If you haven’t been to Hyde Park or Kensington Gardens they fine you. I just didn’t want that on my record.
From Kensington Gardens swung up north into the Notting Hill neigbourhood. Wandered down, and back and forth, along Portobello Rd.
After the market went over to the Museum of Branding, which is a sort of collection of marketing, sexism, consumerism and advertising trends. Very, very, very absorbing. For me.
Well I think all those pics show how captivating the time travel was. Right until that real downer at the end with Liam Payne. Jeesh. There was one GLARING omission at the branding museum. Despite all the British icons and iconography, despite what seemed like every “authentic” toy of the 20th century, there was no homage to Thunderbirds. Nada. Now that was a letdown. After that museum I wandered Notting Hill and Ladbroke Grove; I’m not sentimental about London in the 80s, but when I get walking through an old ‘hood I do get curious.
After a long walk and a pub lunch ended up on Kensington Hight Street at the Japanese House. They have the nose of the first high speed rail line (inaugurated in 1964! And the US is still considering high speed rail…). The gallery featured a fascinating display of the Japanese art of food recreation. What’s really cool about Japan is that before you go into a restaurant, with the menu, they display the food and drink you can expect inside.
The gift shop was also a hoot. So incredibly expensive. £34 for a deck of playing cards. Don’t get me started on tea towels and napkins. After the food visit I walked deep west on Ken High St into Hammersmith and took dinner at one of the Master Wei restaurants; she’s a Chinese cook living in London who was featured in the Netflix series Chef’s Table. The noodles were great; everything else sort of meh. After dinner headed into the West End for a play. Although it had been a beautiful (November) day, dusk seemed to come on by 3 PM and by 6 it was pitch dark; but the lights looked lovely.
This evening’s play was a revised version of Webster’s (five act!) Duchess of Malfi. If Quentin Tarantino was a contemporary of Shakespeare, this would have been his masterpiece. You get killed. You get killed. You get killed. Infanticide. Rape. Accidental suicide. It’s got it all baby. And a packed house for Jodie Whittaker, of Dr. Who and Broadchurch fame, in the starring role.
The play ended at 10. I caught a Bakerloo at Charing Cross just arriving; transferred to a Jubilee at Baker St just arriving; walked out of Willesden Green station and caught a 260 just arriving. 35 minutes door to door, West End to Cricklewood; London miracle.
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