It had been a wonderful two weeks in London, in a lovely modern apartment about 45 minutes by public transit into the center of town. Most days we got a slow start, not leaving the flat until near noon. Sometimes this left us with not quite enough time to take in the wonders of the museums we had planned to visit. On the other hand, after about 45 minutes in any museum I find myself ready to sit for a spell, and a coffee and cake always sounds like a good idea.
When we went to the Museum of London, we thought we had about 90 minutes, so went straight to the cafe to recharge after the journey to get there, which had included a luncheon concert at the Royal Opera House in Covent Garden. (Soprano Abigail Kelly, pianist Amy Hunter?) It was a treat to hear such music for free thanks to Ilena’s research. From there we went searching for Pleasant Lady Jian Bing, a Chinese street food kiosk. We found it, but it was closed. Again. Later we found that it was on hiatus at that location for a while. Missed it!
Hungry, we went looking for a meal. I had mentioned to Ilena that at 7 Dials Market there were many diverse food stalls, and we were right around the corner. Walked into Cucumber Alley and spotted Oshpaz Dumplings. Oh my goodness! Uzbeki-cuisine, dumplings just like his mother used to make. So good. We ordered only 3 each, because there were so many other tempting options, and found Bun Bun, for a steamed bun (open face—what’s with this? I like them solid) and garlic seaweed “chips” (which we all know are French Fries) served with BBQ mayo for dipping. I was so sad to be unable to finish my portion.
We did some half-hearted window-shopping for shoes for Ilena, then headed for the Museum of London, as noted above. After our lattes, we went toward the galleries—old London on that level, modern London above—and heard the dread announcement: “The museum will be closing at 5:00. Galleries will be cleared in 10-15 minutes.” Dang! We just got there. I did Old London, and Ilena went on to Newer London.
We had tickets for the Barbican Conservatory for 5:45? Just a 20-minute walk, she said. Zigging and zagging through the concrete and glass tunnels of commercial London on a late Friday afternoon. Oh my. Mostly deserted, except where pub crowds spilled into the street with their end of the week pints. All in good spirits, though.
Once we got to Barbican, it wasn’t clear where the entry to the conservatory was. Turns out there was an installation in progress that was blocking the usual route so we had to go toward the theatre, down a hall, turn right, find the lift….we got there, and it was amazing. How strange, in a way, to find a jungle inside a building in such a commercial part of a big city. I sat with watercolor and postcard while Ilena roamed, then we sat companionably people-watching.
Art by Ginarteau 