Treasures, a wander and a show

There is a great deal of firefighting infrastructure around the British Library which is presumably there to prevent the most valuable collection of paper on the planet.

We explored the Treasures gallery. The range was incredible. Sharing the same space were a Shakespeare First Folio, Tyndale's first printed English translation of the Bible, Ethiopian gospels, a paper with a scrawled draft by Ted Hughes on one side and a typed poem by Sylvia Plath on the other, even the draft of the Monty Python 'Spanish Inquisition' sketch, which was, of course, surprising, because nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!

We walked to Waitrose and on the way stopped to visit our old rented apartment in Handel St. Was it that one, or that one?

Picnic lunch purchased, we caught the bus to Trafalgar Square where kids were playing on Nelson's lions. The current fourth plinth sculpture is of a Malawi revolutionary and his missionary acquaintance. 

Lyn wanted to see the Thames so we walked to this riverside garden for our picnic. The tulips are out and I found Tyndale again.

The nearby building had been badly splashed with red paint by pro-Palestine protesters. I fearlessly predict that Israel doesn't care.

We reached Westminster Bridge which seemed to be the epicentre of tourist London. They were probably taking photos like this.

Another bus ride brought us back. We walked through Russell Square for probably the last time. Everywhere the English and their dogs were out to enjoy the sunshine.

After a power nap we powered off to see Les Miserables at the Sondheim Theatre. We both thought it was overwrought, predictable and sentimental schlock. There were some decent songs but overall we were happy enough to see most of the characters put out of their misery and take their bows as ghosts.

Lyn is packing. We are ready to start the long journey home.

Revolutionaries

First order of the day was a taxi to Highgate Cemetery. The cabbie was full of good cheer. "Going to see Karl Marx are we?" We chatted about the changes in London in the past 10 years, electric cabs, the recent dismal weather, the areas we were travelling through, and he then recommended walks to us after we had finished our Cemetery tour.

At the cemetery we paid our respects to Karl and then I realised, because the sun was shining brightly, that my prescription sunglasses were missing. Ouch!

The tour was very good. Our diminutive volunteer guide had a million yarns as he told us far more than anybody needs to know about Highgate Cemetery. This is the grave of the entrepreneur who created a travelling menagerie.

These vaults starred in Hammer horror films.

This grave with the dog belonged to a Victorian era bare-knuckle champion.

These catacombs were vandalised by the Highgate Vampire and his gang.

This is the grave on unconsecrated ground of Michael Faraday.

And I liked the angels.

We then trudged uphill to the very well-heeled Highgate High Street looking for lunch. The hotel rang to say that the cabbie had returned our sunglasses. What a good bloke! We ate soup and quiche and walked to Hampstead Heath. 

Hampstead Heath was beautiful and green and there were dogs everywhere. 

Changing buses at St Pancras on the way back we spotted this vehicle.

After a nap at the hotel we had another bus ride to the Victoria Palace Theatre to see Hamilton. Lyn felt the bag and coat pocket checks at the entrance had taken much of the romance out of London theatre going.

Inside, however, the glitz was still there.

The show was great, we drank prosecco at interval and, as usual, Lyn took as much pleasure in watching the audience as the performance. 

I pondered that a day that began with Marx had ended with Hamilton - two world changing revolutionaries in one day. 

We stopped at Shake Shack for a late night burger on the way back. Mid order the guy behind the counter decided to tell Lyn she was pretty.  Some things don't change at all.

Half a day in the V&A

All three alarms went off at 4.45 am yesterday. We were at breakfast in the airport hotel by 5.20 and in the terminal by 5.40. Inverness airport terminal is about the same size as Hobart. We were aboard by 6.40 for our 6.55 flight to London. Then we sat on the tarmac till 7.30 waiting for Heathrow to find us a slot. By 9.00 we were in London and by 10.30 we had dropped our bags at our insanely expensive hotel.

We had the idea that we'd go to Leicester Square to get tickets for a show tonight but, this being Sunday, the only things on offer were matinees. We weren't excited about those and then had one of our extended impasse conversations. 

"What do you want to do?"

"I really don't mind. Whatever you like."

"I want to do whatever you want."

This could have continued for hours except that it was raining so we jumped on a bus and headed for the Natural History Museum. We'd already noted the huge line outside the British Museum, and were greeted by another at our destination. The rain and the queue settled things. We backtracked, walked into the V&A, had lunch at the cafe, and set out to explore. 

The Victoria and Albert Museum is a museum of applied and decorative arts. It has literally millions of objects in its collection. If the British have ever visited you or conquered you, you can guarantee that your valuables will end up in the V&A. 

We were there for hours and only saw (most of) the first floor.

This is Lyn looking through a sandstone lace screen from the Islamic Art section.

This is a guardian temple demon from the South Asia collection.

This thing is a north European choir screen!

This is ... dunno.

Everywhere you turn there are wonders and curiosities. Battalions of sensibly dressed women in puffy jackets stared at the amazing fashion collection. 

It is easy to feel all righteous and anti-colonial about all this but people from all over the world were there looking a this stuff. My thoughts were summed up by one staggeringly beautiful golden and bejewelled Burmese headdress. 

When the V&A returned a big chunk of its Burmese collection to Burma, the Burmese government gave this piece back to the V&A as a gift in gratitude for preserving artworks that would have, in Burma, been long ago broken up and melted down. The British are acquisitive squirrels but they have good taste.

George Orwell was a ferocious critic of the British Empire but Orwell also said, "Beauty is meaningless until it is shared."

Lyn then enjoyed one of her beloved London bus rides back to the hotel. Nap, dinner out, sleep. 

Bye Bye Orkney

Today was a long slog from Kirkwall back to Inverness. We left at 9.00 and headed for Inverness. Our driver thoughtfully diverted to show us the imposing remains of the Stenness stone circle.

In the port of Stromness we grabbed some lunch supplies and boarded the ferry for Thurso on the mainland.

I'll remember Orkney for a blessed break from the rain, the rolling rrrs of the Orcadians, the word "peedee" (small) and a priceless description of the frigid winds, "It's a lazy wind". Lazy because it doesn't go around you - it just goes right through you.

We passed the Old Man of Hoy again.

In Thurso it had been raining (surprise!). We caught the train for the long journey to Inverness. With about 90 minutes left to travel, I was nodding off when we were invaded by the youth of the rural North. They were loud, happy, drinking, and over-perfumed. They were clearly headed for a big night in Inverness. Incredibly, despite single- figure temperatures, the girls wore midriff tops and miniskirts!

At Inverness we said goodbye to our guide and fellow travellers from the Orkney tour. We are now relaxing in the airport hotel. Its good to be able to enjoy our own company again. London tomorrow. 

Shapinsay and Gin

Today was meant to begin with a short ferry trip from Kirkwall to Shapinsay, an easy walk along the coast and a picnic for lunch. The weather was kind and the ferry trip idyllic. 

The easy walk along the coast turned into a weary slog because the path was through a boggy cow paddock. We picked our way from tussock to rock to tussock. We climbed gates and stiles. The only success was down to Lyn who spotted a seal.  The seal swam alongside our route for some time, no doubt wondering what on earth we were doing. Various birds were spotted too, including a pair of white swans. 

We found a less damp spot for our picnic and then tramped along drier tracks back to the ferry. The sun was out and we may have napped a little.

Back in Kirkwall Lyn and I joined our fellow traveller Anna (from Kansas City) in a tour and tasting at the local gin distillery.  The eager young fellow told us it was his first tour. It showed. He kept forgetting his lines and once we got to the distillery he was remarkably vague about the gin making process. Thankfully a more senior figure was there to answer our questions.

Back in the bar, he made us each a very good cocktail. It then became clear that he was very interested in two possibilities: getting to know Anna better and making a trip to Australia. He might one day succeed in the latter but not the former.

Meet the Flintstones

It just kept going around in my head:

Flintstones, meet the Flintstones
They're the modern stone-age family
From the town of Bedrock
They're a page right out of history.

The Neolithic landscapes of Orkney were a feature of our day but first up was World War II. We drove south to the Churchill barriers, roads which connected the islands at the eastern end of Scapa Flow and ensured u-boats could not repeat attacks like the one which sank HMS Royal Oak. 

Most of the labourers on this project were Italian POWs. They also turned a humble Nissan hut into a beautiful Chapel which is rightly maintained to this day.

From there we went backwards few thousand years to the Ring of Brodgar. A diminutive Orcadian ranger gave us a fascinating tour of this pre-historic site. Had we not been freezing in, what she called, "a lazy wind" it would have been even better. 

After lunch the tour continued on to Skara Brae. This immensely important site is a small Neolithic settlement complete with stone walls, stone floors, stone furniture and a beach view.

Nearby is the ancestral home of the local laird. We explored that too. Lyn loved the sunken gardens there which were designed to get the flowers, vegetables, croquet and tennis out of the Arctic winds which torment these islands.