Spitalfields Hyde Park & the Albert Hall

Yesterday 6 September, Chris and I continued to take it easy. While he is in the recovery phase of his viral nastiness, I have picked up something myself, although I do not think it is the same thing as Chris’. For a start, my symptoms are much less serious. I have a headache, an eye ache and am congested, mostly on one side. However, a bit of paracetamol, a little over the counter codeine, and the odd Sudafed to keep me dry seem to be doing trick. It’s been around for a few days, as evidenced by sneezing at the start, but seems to have peaked by now, around day 4, so I am hopeful, with fingers crossed, that it does not develop in anything more debilitating. All that said, it’s been nice to slow down and just do one thing a day followed by rest. And good for both of us.

I am enjoying London, although it has lost that first time feeling for me now. I guess that must happen eventually with all things new. This is my third visit to this glorious city, and I have visited twice each time, and I am feeling like I know it now, or at least am comfortable with it now. I am getting to know how it ticks.

We wanted to keep things simple, so yesterday we set off on foot for some brekky at a nice café, The Coffee Tree, that we found in Old Street. Good coffee. Lovely service. From there we decided on a leisurely walk to Spitalfields Markets, not so far away. We took a few pics of buildings along the way, because, how can you not? It’s London.

For a bit of fun, we gave Meta AI the instruction to describe the markets in the style of “an insufferable nineteenth century dandy.” Here is the result.

“Dear fellow, Spitalfields Market is an absolute must-see destination for any discerning individual of refined taste and sensibility. Located in the heart of the East End, this venerable institution has been a hub of commerce and conviviality since the 17th century.

As one strolls through the market's bustling stalls, one is treated to a veritable cornucopia of delights. From the freshest produce to the most exquisite artisanal wares, Spitalfields Market is a true treasure trove of gastronomic and aesthetic pleasures.

But, my dear chap, it's not just about the shopping, you see. Oh no, Spitalfields Market is an experience, a sensory delight that will leave you feeling like a member of the haut monde. The atmosphere is lively, the crowd is fashionable, and the food... well, the food is simply divine.

Now, I know what you're thinking, dear fellow. "Spitalfields Market? Isn't that just a bunch of trendy nonsense?" Ah, but no, my friend. This is a market with a rich history, a place where the Huguenot silk weavers of old would have felt right at home.

So, do take a stroll down to Spitalfields Market, won't you? I daresay you won't regret it. The foie gras is to die for, the vintage clothing is à la mode, and the company... well, the company is simply the crème de la crème.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a pressing engagement with a certain couturier. Ta-ta for now, old chap!”

Chris and I experienced something of the truth of this. He bought a new bangle, and we stopped off at one of the pubs there for a refreshing soda water. Walking in and out of the stalls was very pleasant. No-one harangued us to buy, no-one was pushy as can sometimes be the case in such places. Had we been going through that market, I might have been tempted to buy an artwork, but getting artworks home from the UK is tricky, so I elected not to buy.

Our day’s adventure at an end, we decided to eat out for lunch at a pub, and stay in at night, the reverse of our original plan. It was time I had a fish n chips meal since arriving on this verdant isle that is forever England, as I had not partaken of the famous delight by this time. It was delicious I must say, the fish delicate and tender and sweet. And a lot too. I couldn’t finish it. Although Chris did.

At night, we sat through two more episodes of Untamed on Netflix. Both of us have essentially worked out what is happening, who dunnit and where it’s all going. But we’ll finish it. One more episode to go. We ducked out for a walk after dinner to Barbican Cocktail Bar and had a drink and spied Kevin McCloud of Grand Designs fame. Our second brush with fame after Chris spotted Siân Phillips at our Waitrose the day before.

Today, 7 September, Sunday, and our last day in London for a while, we set forth for a stroll through Hyde Park. It has been a glorious day today, sunny, warm, friendly. The walk was a passeggiata and we stopped off at the same bistro overlooking the Serpentine Lake that we had lunch at a few years ago. It was lovely to sit in the shade, drink our coffees and eat our little cherry tarts while watching the birds on the lake. Two young Italian men sat in front of us, and it was nice for both of us to hear the lilt of the language again as it is spoken fluently. After coffee, we continued our stroll and came upon the Serpentine Gallery that was showing an exhibition of an Italian artist, Giuseppe Penone, who works with the forest. His exhibition was called Thoughts in the Roots and was all leaves and bark and trees and scribblings and fabric. It was lovely to see his valuing of the forest and vegetation. We both enjoyed it.

Our walk continued and we happened upon the direct opposite, I would have thought, of Penone’s work, the Albert Memorial, Queen Victoria’s tribute in gold and gigantism to her late husband. Like his long-reigning wife, Albert is everywhere in London. I remarked to Chris that it felt like she wanted everyone else to value him as much as she did. Of course, the Royal Albert Hall is across the road, so we sauntered over there too. I had the Australian temerity to ask one of the doormen whether non-ticket holders could go in for a drink. He said yes and directed us to Door 12. There, a young woman tried to say nay, but I would have none of it, and I protested that we had been directed to this door by her colleague. She relented, hoped we would get a drink and in we went. They had Chandon Garden Spritz going so we duly purchased two of those and a bag of crisps (when in Rome). A strike on two Tube lines meant a little extra time getting home, but it was a lovely day and well worth it.

Tonight, we pack up and watch the finale of Untamed. Glasgow beckons tomorrow. We are both looking forward to the train, about four and a half hours, and the city itself which we love. Life is good. Thank you once again London. You did us a treat.Baca lagi