Yesterday (Saturday 28 May) we decided to visit the Brixton markets. A thirty minute tube ride saw us emerge into the grey skies above a much grittier and grimy patch of London, populated by a much more colourful and esoteric collection of Londoners. We were a little early, so wandered around for an hour - I bought three books in an op shop: Will Self's The Book of Dave; a nice edition of George Orwell's Nineteen Eighty Four, and an Oxford University Press book by John Gross, After Shakespeare: Writing inspired by the Worlds Greatest Author. The plan was to have something to read on the flight home, but I may have over-indulged; a bit of a theme for this trip!
The markets were largely practical affairs, focussed on the quotidian needs of the locals. There was a small craft market, the Crafty Fox, which was populated by a flock of largely insipid but nice craftspeople selling cards, some pottery, more cards, and some more pottery. Bearing in mind that they deserve points for effort, and add diversity, perhaps i should not be so critical. In any case, we were not tempted to buy anything apart form a cup of tea.
Afterwards we made our way by bus to a small food market near the south bank of the Thames, close to Tower Bridge where a short street was filled to the brim with hundreds of people sussing out about twenty or thirty food stalls, a plethora of different products, from sushi burgers to high end fillet steak and chips, with much in between. We settled for a vegetarian option, a felafel and lebanese salad, which was delicious.
We then joined the throngs of tourists crossing the Tower Bridge, walked by the even larger sea of people laying siege to the Tower itself, noting some of the external points of interest: the 'traitors gate'; the 'cradle tower' from whence Jesuit priest John Gerrard escaped at some point in the early 1600s, at least according to the information posted outside.
We decided to give the Crown Jewels display within a miss, and walked on into the city.
I was keen to track down Samuel Pepys abode, in Seething Lane nearby. I had read Claire Tomalin's biography fifteen years ago, and moved on to reading selected extracts of Pepys' celebrated diaries themselves. Most entertaining, particularly given that he was a mere public servant. IN fact, while best known for his diaries, Pepys made perhaps he most important contribution to building the British navy, and thus establishing Britain as a pre-eminent global power in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.
We found the location we sought, but there was no trace of the house, nor even a specific plaque, in evidence. Instead, a major development was being erected and the two metre fence surrounding it displayed a short narrative recounting Pepys work and residential arrangements (he had been employed by the Navy Board and his house was adjacent to his office) along with a short description of the Great Fire of London in 1665 for which Pepys diary is a major documentary source.
We enjoyed looking into the burial ground adjacent to St Olaves church nearby, where Pepys and his wife are interred, and then walked on to a nearby ruins, the church of St Dunstan in the East, and its lovely small garden. From there, we ambled north towards Aldgate, and home.
Dinner was at the amazing Pizza East restaurant in Shoreditch. Loud, dark, buzzing with energy, we sat at a bar looking into the pizza ovens as three chefs worked like trojans producing terrific pizzas and other mediterranean fare. Four stars!
This morning, I stayed home and read while Boronia headed out to some nearby markets. Late morning we headed to St Pancras station and then walked down to Bloomsbury to visit the Foundlings Museum. We were particularly interested in an exhibition on the theme of 'lost', but we both found the whole museum to be fascinating and quite moving. It recounts a very thin slice father histories of the thousands of 'foundling' children assisted over the past two centuries. The museum also incorporates explicit acknowledgement of the artistic community over the centuries which has supported the Foundling Home headquartered nearby, including a small room dedicated to Handel, who was a benefactor.
From there, I was keen to walk by the residences of the Bloomsbury group in Gordon Square, in particular, the residence of JM Keynes, who biography (by Robert Skidelsky in three volumes I read a decade or so ago).
Then a walk into the city, via a quick detour through the British Museum (too big and crowded to persuade us to stay) and ultimately to dinner in a terrific Italian restaurant in Soho where again we sat at the bar and watched the six chefs, all italians, produce an amazing array of wonderful dishes as if they were members of an orchestra.
So that was our weekend. Boronia enjoyed the variety of markets, I took particular pleasure from visiting the former residences of perhaps the two most influential public servants in British history, men I have read so much about, and who inspire through their capacity to change the world. And we both found the Foundlings Museum moving and enjoyable.
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