Hampton Court Palace, London: Day 7

Sunday, April 25th, dawns overcast, but bright enough to go ahead with our plans to visit Hampton Court Palace, located in the borough of Richmond, southwest of London.  Despite being a half hour out of Central London, this former residence, much beloved by Henry VIII, and containing the most exquisite gardens, is worth the trip.

As in our other travels throughout this great city, public transport - in this case, inter-city rail - is our choice, and just as our experience with the Tube so far, it is equally as efficient, affordable, and enjoyable. On the short journey, we pass quaint villages and lush, rolling landscapes. I remark how, despite being on an island, the English countryside seems quite spacious. Villages and suburban communities do line the railway routes, but these do not make up the majority of the view. Instead, verdant fields dominate the landscape, dotted with small farms with grazing animals. Of note is the seeming effort at preserving the architectural styles, landscaping, and urban planning of the past, which adds to the scenes' charm and appeal.

After a short walk from the train station, we arrive at the adorned gates of Hampton Court Palace, built around 1514. Greg and I review the site map, before proceeding to the front entrance. The site consists of several components, including the Clock Tower, the multi-courted main palace, the Chapel, the Banqueting House, the Great Hall, and the extensive gardens.

Despite its association with King Henry VIII, Hampton Court Palace was initially the residence of Cardinal Wolsey, the King's most trusted confidant and advisor, who, because of his rising influence and wealth as the second most powerful leader in Britain, was able to indulge his love of architecture.

Hampton Court Palace became Wolsey's passion, one on which he lavished a small fortune and seven years building. His intention was to demonstrate how a British cardinal's lifestyle could rival that of any in Rome.

The palace is mainly Tudor in style, but contains a mix of Italian Renaissance and Gothic Perpendicular styles, which are reflected in the palace's ornamental details. Despite its increasing wealth and power at the time, England was still influenced by the art, architecture, and designs of Italy, Belgium, and France - the so-called low countries - which had been cultivated and established long before those of England. Much of Hampton Court Palace's buildings, for instance, were constructed by Italian - not English - craftsmen who had settled in England in the sixteenth century.

At its completion, Hampton Court Palace became Wolsey's home for only a few years. By the 1520s, he was losing favour with the King, and felt the pressure to appease him. He offered Henry VIII Hampton Court Palace as a gift and died a year after the King took ownership of the residence.

Greg and I are impressed by the palace's enormous scale and classical features, a result of Henry VIII's own expansion of the palace. He added to the building, before moving in, partly in order to accommodate his enormous court, which consisted of 1000 people.

Equally impressive is the number of priceless tapestries - a few of which are on display - that we learn Henry VIII amassed for the residence. These were handmade of wool, silk, silver, and gold threads and whose massive scale is a testament to their cost: it often took craftspeople years to finish one tapestry. As with other aesthetics of the time, including fashion and art, the ownership of tapestries was a reflection of an individual's wealth and power, wielding great influence on those who beheld them. Henry VIII, determined to impress the other European heads of state of increasing English political and economic power, was particularly adept at using art, culture, and aesthetics as tools to promote England on the international stage.

Much of the palace's decor and furnishings date to the Tudor and Stuart periods of English history. These include - in addition to the aforementioned tapestries - paintings, ceramics, furniture, and a royal loo, upholstered in red velvet. Greg and I marvel at the superb fabrics and impeccable workmanship of the objects displayed, which are now part of The Royal Collection, owned by and kept in trust for the British Royal family and its successors. The majority of these thousands of items of art, furniture, ceramics, and paintings are displayed in the various royal palaces throughout Britain, including Hampton Court Palace.

As we move from room to room, we are struck by the expert use of colour, which we presume are accurate to the various periods and stages the palace underwent throughout the centuries. These not only complement the enormous spaces, but seem contemporary in their execution and seeming consideration of proportion and balance. There are wonderful sage greens, creams, scarlets, and golds that are used lavishly on furniture, on walls, or as accents.

Henry VIII consulted the best craftsmen, artists, and designers of his time. These included Hans Holbein, the German painter who not only created many of Henry VIII's portraits, but who also designed precious objects, including jewellery and silver plate.

The enormity of this palace and its countless rooms is reflective not only of Henry VIII's passion for architecture, but also of his successors' own initiatives at demolishing, adding to, and extending the palace buildings. Of note is King William of Orange and his wife, Queen Mary's, effort at modernizing the palace to reflect the Baroque style of the 17th century, adding not only new wings of rooms to the existing palace, but employing new architects, craftsmen, and artists to oversee the tasks. These included Christopher Wren, who designed completely new buildings that would replace all but the Great Hall of Henry VIII's original buildings, and Antonio Verrio, who created some of the exquisite frescoes in King William's staircase.

The extent and beauty of the palace buildings is rivaled only by its extensive grounds, much of it cultivated into various garden styles. In all, there are 60 acres of gardens and 750 acres of parkland. On leaving the main building, Greg and I separate, each drawn to a different part of the palace gardens. I am initially attracted to the clipped yew trees, laid out along two wide walkways, extending from the palace's south entrances. These are enormous and beautiful, softening the garden's otherwise symmetrical design.

From there, I move on to the rose garden and maze, each with their own distinct choices of flowers and plants and design layout. Being early spring, the gardens are starting to reach their full beauty and with their extensive varieties of plants, flowers, and trees, I am struck by the novelty of it all. In addition to the rose garden and maze, the Palace's gardens also include the Great Fountain Garden, the Lower Orangery Exotics Garden, and the Pond Gardens. Short of time, we cannot take all the gardens in, but resolve to return some day to carry on where we leave off.

In addition to the information provided here, much more can be learned about Hampton Court Palace by visiting the Historic Royal Palaces website. This charitable organization maintains five royal sites, including Hampton Court Palace, Kensington Palace, and Kew Gardens, and does so without government funding.

References:
1. Wikipedia
2. TimeOut Guide [London 2010])
3. Design & the Decorative Arts: Tudor and Stuart Britain 1500-1714 (Snodin & Styles)

See slide show below to see more images (click on slide show to enlarge):

University of Greewich/Vauxhall, London: Day 6

From midday Saturday, our 4th day in London, Greg and I take the Tube from Aldgate Station south to Greenwich Station, where, on disembarking, we make our way through the charming town of Greenwich. We are struck by the beauty and age of the buildings, a few of which were built in the 13th century. At the heart of the town stands the church of St. Alfege, which  was established in 1012, though the current building was built in 1718, after the second site collapsed 8 years earlier. Further damage, this time to the interior, occurred during the Blitz, resulting in a collapsed roof, and necessitating a complete gutting and re-design of the interiors in the 1950s.

Greenwich has a maritime feel to it. Indeed, Elizabeth I regarded Greenwich Palace, now occupied by the Royal Naval College, as her favourite summer residence, because of its proximity to the Thames. Her grandfather, Henry VII,  was a frequent user of the residence and both she and her father, Henry VIII, were born there.

The Royal Naval College, which replaced Greenwich Palace, was designed by famed British architect Christopher Wren, and his assistant, Nicholas Hawksmoor, in 1696. Originally built as a hospital for naval officers, it continued as such for over two hundred years, becoming the Royal Naval College in 1873. In 1999, some of the buildings were leased by the University of Greenwich, for use as classrooms and administrative offices.

For Greg and me, the wonder of the University of Greenwich happens as we pass through its gates and are met by its administrative offices, their mid-20th century modernist style modest and unassuming: I do not expect the rest of the campus buildings to be different. A few hundred metres' walk from the front gates, though, and the full glory of Wren's masterpiece gradually draws me in, its breathtaking scale, proportion, and beauty, leave me dumbfounded for minutes as I take in its magnificence. Initially designed as one complex, the buildings were ultimately divided into quadrants, to allow an unobstructed view of the Thames from Queen Anne's house, which sits on a hill overlooking the site.

Part of the impact of these buildings is related to me being from Canada, a nation with only a few hundred years of history; so, I am unaccustomed to seeing structures of such age so well maintained and still functioning. The feeling triggers memories of my three years in Japan, where traditional Japanese homes and ancient temples are commonplace and proudly stand next to contemporary ones. But that experience was over 20 years ago; so being, once again, in the presence of buildings with such a long and storied past, requires a bit of re-adjustment.

There are many memorable moments from this visit, simply because every corner of the site has some arresting detail or significance to it, including how sunlight creates variations of pale ivory on the building's stonework, turning the volutes of the seemingly infinite number of columns and the spindles of the rooftop balconies into delicate filigrees of sculpture.  If I had to choose my favourite part of the site, though, it would have to be the Chapel in the Queen Mary Court: It is a pure gem. Entering it is to be awestruck into silence. Re-built in the late 18th century after fire destroyed the previous space, the Chapel is in the Baroque style, its pale coral walls and cornflower blue ceilings fitting backgrounds for the most delicate relief sculptures. I am struck by how, on the surface, the variety of details - from triglyphs to dentils to rosettes - create a cacophony of textures. Yet, in that well-lit, well-proportioned space, the effect is somehow harmonious and tranquil. From a design perspective, these juxtapositions should not work; yet, they do...beautifully.

Across the way from Queen Mary Court is King William Court, with its equally famous Painted Hall, my other favoured venue on the site. Here, the scale of the space, complements the extraordinary ceilings and walls - the perfect trompe l'oeil effect - painted from 1707-1727 by famed court painter James Thornhill, in hounour of King William and Queen Mary. Like the Chapel in Queen Mary Court, the scale of the space - soaring ceilings, angular walls - is dramatic, made even more so by the intricate details of the impeccably wrought paintings. Since the court was intended to serve as part of the naval hospital the site functioned as at the time, the original intention for the Painted Hall was as a dining hall for the hospital's infirm. Because of its magnificence, though, it was rarely used as such, instead becoming a tourist destination, a function it maintains to this day.

Greg and I spend hours at the University of Greenwich, taking in as much of it as we can. Of note is just how the campus, despite its grandeur, is also an ideal spot for quiet contemplation, social gatherings, and exploration. Divided into four main parts, the campus sits on axes of lawns, beautifully tended and inviting. With the Thames providing a dramatic backdrop, one can easily while away the hours with a good book or the company of friends.

In time, we set off on our next destination that afternoon. Just up the hill from the University of Greenwich sits the Royal Observatory, on the former site of a Tudor castle called Greenwich Castle (Henry VIII used to house his mistresses when he summered here, because it was conveniently located next to Greenwich Palace, the current site of the University of Greenwich and the former Royal Naval Hospital (later College). The approach is a short steep climb through Greenwich Park, a favoured haunt of runners and lovers alike, and lined on either side by the lushest gardens.

Along the way, I remark on the diversity of the large crowds: from East Indian families to Eastern Europeans, speaking in unfamiliar dialects to young lovers eager to stake out a spot on the vast green space in front of the Observatory and look out over the University of Greenwich and the Thames beyond. With the Observatory shut for the day, even we take the time to pause on the lawns and look out, for by that time, the light rendered the scene as if straight out of a Gainsborough painting.

The Royal Observatory was conceived of in the 16th century and sits atop the site of a former private residence, Flamsteed House, which, like the University of Greenwich below it, was designed by Christopher Wren. Since the 16th century, the Observatory has been used by astronomers to calculate measurements related to time. Four meridians, including the Prime Meridian, have been drawn there. Greenwich Mean Time (GMT) was based on observations and calculations, and, until 1954, was used as the standard for accurately measuring time around the world. Of note is the fact that since the beginning of the 20th century, the Royal Observatory was not in Greenwich, because the electrification of the railways surrounding the site interfered with the functions of the magnetic instruments housed in the building. The observatory was forced to re-locate to the village of Abinger in Surrey and later, after the second world war, the entire operation was transferred to Herstmonceux Castle in East Sussex where it remained, being sub-divided yet again in the 90s, and re-located to various sites. Since the late 90s Herstmonceux Castle has been home to the International Study Centre of Queen's University in Kingston, Ontario.

Today, the Royal Observatory in Greenwich is a museum overseen by the National Maritime Museum and houses a collection of astrological and meteorological instruments. Through additional funding, the site also underwent expansion with the addition of the Peter Harrison Planetarium, a digital planetarium standing exactly on the Prime Meridian.

As the sun sets, Greg and I leave Greenwich Park in search of a meal. Walking along one of the main streets we choose a Chinese Restaurant, well appointed and serving fine Northern Chinese cuisine. As we eat, we make plans for the rest of our evening. It is Saturday night, after all, and we are interested in exploring the London nightlife. Leaving the Lisa Court Hotel a few hours later, after a change of clothes and a quick rest, we head out to Vauxhall in the London Borough of Lambeth. It is now 10 pm.

Vauxhall dates back to the 13th century when the area was part of the de Redvers family estate and was later acquired by Falkes de Breaute, one of King John's mercenary officers. The area remained flat and marshy for hundreds of years, hampering development, though ancient roads - such as the South Lambeth, Clapham, and Wandsworth - terminated there. It was not until the 1740s that the area became more accessible with the construction of Westminster Bridge. Prior to this, the locals accessed Vauxhall by boat when coming to the markets that provided fresh produce for the City of London. Much of Vauxhall was destroyed during the second world war as well as when the railways were expanded to create new lines to Waterloo Station.

Today, Vauxhall is a diverse neighbourhood undergoing much change. Many companies and government offices re-located here, lured by its low-rent accommodations. As with many London neighbourhoods, gentrification is quickly transforming this area into a more commercial one, with mixed results.

Greg and I are attracted to Vauxhall's vibrant gay nightlife, which had its inception in the 1990s with the opening of several underground clubs looking for alternative venues to ones in central London. Because of its recent surge in popularity, Vauxhall has also come to be known as "Voho" - an amalgamation of the neighbourhood names Vauxhall and Soho - a nod to the latter, more established gay neighbourhood. Our goal: to find a club that is both friendly and patronized by a diverse clientele. Being used to gay clubs that tended to serve specific groups in the gay community - the leather crowd, the twinks, the drag queens, or the older 'daddy' set - often to the exclusion of the others - we realize what a tall order we are demanding. But this being London, we believe it should be large enough to deliver.

Our first stop is The Eagle, whose website indicates that it could meet our clubbing needs. On entering, it seems we have come to the right place. The club has a typical pub look and feel with the clientele mainly consisting of men our age - not too young nor too old. But as minutes turn to over an hour, we start wondering where everyone is, though the time is sufficiently late (11:30), we think, that it should be busier by now. Finally, by midnight, when we tire of looking at the same faces, we ask one of the other patrons if there is a more lively club in the area he could recommend. He refers us to the Royal Vauxhall Tavern, a club in a historic building we had passed on the way to The Eagle. Walking in, we are met by the most raucous music and virtually pinned to the wall by a throng of dancing men, all moving in one undulating wave of bodies: jackpot! Of note is how the Royal Vauxhall Tavern crowd that night, though not as diverse as we would have liked, consist of the type of masculine demeanour I most favour: unassuming, unaffected, and non-caricatured. How rare to see such a remarkably attractive crowd. That said, we do not stay long. For one thing the sheer numbers of people in that relatively small space made breathing - let alone moving about - almost impossible (no wonder the crowd moves in unison). For another, it was quite late and the Tube had already stopped running.

After a winding, though scenic, bus ride through Central London, we find ourselves at a bus stop close to Westminster Palace, the seat of Parliament, where we flag a taxi for the remaining journey back to Bloomsbury. Exhausted after a very full day, we flop into bed and sleep soundly.

References: 
1. Wikipedia
2. TimeOut Guide (London 2010)

See slide show below to see more images (click on slide show to enlarge):

Brick Lane/Spitalfields, London: Day 5

Saturday dawns bright and warm. After breakfast, Greg and I decide to go our separate ways for the first half of the day. He heads off to the London Transport Museum in Covent Garden, whilst I am off to Brick Lane, in the east end. Known for its ethnic flavour and street vendors, the neighbourhood has seen rapid changes in the past decade.

Brick Lane has a long history. Its name derives from the factories that used to manufacture bricks and tiles back in the 15th century. By the 17th century, however, London started experiencing the first wave of immigrant settlement, with the arrival of the Huguenots, Protestants from Roman Catholic France, who were fleeing persecution in their home country. This group was followed, in succession throughout the centuries, by other groups, including the Irish, the Jews, and the Bangladeshis. Brick Lane joins Whitechapel High Street, famous for its association with the Whitechapel Murders of the late 19th century, when eleven women were assaulted and killed, allegedly, by Jack the Ripper.

The buildings in this area, seeming to echo its multicultural demographic, are a mix of three-storey, 18th century Georgian; ornate Victorian orange brick; and mid-20th century modernism; their facades are regularly adorned with both English and Bengali signage. Outside, the street vendors sell mainly vintage goods and the most intoxicating foods from South Asia, India, and the Middle East.

Today, Brick Lane, like other London neighbourhoods (such as Spitalfields to its west), has been experiencing rejuvenation and gentrification, its small shops selling locally-produced fashion,  accessories, and music.  In fact, this is part of the reason why I am here, early on a Saturday morning: I'd come to check out a sample sale on the upper floors of one of the neighbourhood warehouses.

Sample sales, to me, are wonderful and rare opportunities to buy high-end designer clothing, shoes, and accessories for up to 80% off the original price, though, on reflection, this neighbourhood, given its history, demographics, and decidedly local focus,  seems an incongruous one to be riffling through rack after rack of McQueen, Westwood, Burberry, Armani, and Margiela; but I suppose this was part of the allure of the experience: I feel drawn to contradictions. After an hour and a half, I come up empty-handed. Either something does not fit well, or the prices, though drastically reduced, are still unaffordable (a Margiela coat I love, and marked down from 2500 pounds, is still expensive at 300). Still, I appreciate feeling the fine fabrics and closely examining the impeccable workmanship of the garments; and I must say, in the musty, dark surroundings of this warehouse space, with its cement walls peeling white paint and uneven floorboards, the racks of clothing looked like an art installation in a hip gallery. Perfectly wrought white suit in front of cracking concrete: Fantastic!!!!

Back out on the sidewalks, I take in the crowds, now sizeable, since my arrival at the warehouse. It is a steady mix of local Middle Eastern, Indian, and South Asians interspersed with camera-toting Caucasian tourists. Taking this scene in, I am reminded of Toronto's own multicultural neighbourhoods - Chinatown east and west; the Danforth, with its profusion of Greek culinary delights; North York, a newer haven for Asians, Iranians, and Pakistanis - and am charmed by the seemingly peaceful intermingling. Despite the international conflicts that the media inundate us on a daily basis, here is a real example of human harmony, at its most arresting, yet at its most pedestrian!

I walk north, along a main street; the smell of curry in the narrow lanes is sweet and warming. Following my nose and the crowds, I find myself drawn into an inner courtyard by wonderful music. The courtyard opens up, revealing dozens of kiosks under a huge tented structure. These sell everything from art books to cds to clothing, most of it vintage. I buy a cd by Reel People, a funk/disco group that reminds me of Sisters Sledge, a steal for 5 pounds. Still hungering for a wonderful piece of clothing, I spy a rack of vintage cashmere sweaters, in a rainbow of colours. True to form I choose two rich charcoal grays - a pull-over and a cardigan - which, worn together, I decide would make a charming set. I take them, at 22 pounds for the pair. Cheered by the serendipity of my (ridiculously affordable) purchases - and here I was lured by a silly sample sale: ha! - I decide it is time for lunch and make my way back to the main street.

In time, I remark on a solid brick building, which, from the front, looks open on the inside. I walk in and discover that it is open. Light filters in from enormous rear windows and skylights; coupled with the heady fragrance of jasmine and spices, I realize that this is the place to eat. Kiosks lined the sparsely furnished space, all serving a variety of South-Asian cooking, many of which I have never before seen. I opt for Cambodian, which consists of sweet rice, chicken marinated in some kind of plum sauce, and giant mushrooms: Delectable, fresh, and healthy, the enormous pots tended to by a young woman and her mother exude heavenly aromas. The finishing touch to this slightly surreal scene: A DJ spinning at the back of this wonderful space. Oh to have this experience in Toronto! I find an unoccupied table and sit, basking in the wonderful sensuality of it all.

It is time to head back to Aldgate Station, where I earlier parted with Greg. Along the way, I pass through Spitalfields, the neighbourhood contiguous to Brick Lane. Here, the streets are even narrower and more lane-like than the ones in Brick Lane, and this narrowness, coupled with the charmingly dilapidated three-story Georgian buildings that line them, have me pining to live here.

Spitalfields's history goes back to Roman London (i.e. 47 - 500 A.D.), during which it thrived for hundreds of years (Roman cemeteries have been excavated in the area). Later, the New Hospital of St. Mary's Without Bishopgate was founded in Spitalfields in 1197 and became one of the largest religious hospitals in operation for over 400 years; it was dissolved by Henry VIII in the 16th century. Spitalfields's more recent fame, though, has been its association with the silk industry, when, during the 17th century, Protestant Huguenots from France, fleeing religious persecution, settled and set up cloth-weaving operations in this area. At the time of their settlement, Spitalfields was outside of London's municipal boundaries, so the Huguenots' choice to settle here was a purposeful one: They wanted to avoid being subject to the same civic restrictions  - such as taxes - as those living within London's boundaries. These weavers' skills were extraordinary, and resulted in an industry that flourished for over 300 years, until the Victorian era, when, as now part of the city of London, they were subject to restrictions that favoured the import of lower quality French silks. This resulted in a decline in the industry and the eventual degradation of the area.  Many of its residents were either forced out or became indigent, and the neighbourhood itself started to earn a reputation for high rates of violence and crime.

Modern-day Spitalfields has recently experienced a surge in popularity among the young and more affluent, eager to partake in its storied past and recent gentrified status. Urban conservationists have made great effort to preserve many of the Georgian townhouses, and renovations have been undertaken on Spitalfields Market and other significant landmarks, which hasve resulted in clashes between race and class. Much of Spitalfields's indigent population was displaced, replaced by those who could now afford the higher market prices.

I keep walking and encounter Chris Dyson Architects on Princelet Street. I peer through the windows and spy several maquettes on a table. The all-white interiors seem to have retained their old-world charm; but, just like some of the buildings in Bloomsbury, their patinas have been modernized slightly, all to great effect. From my vantage point, the rear of the building opens up to a light-filled courtyard, which, I can only imagine, must serve as additional reception space. I sigh with envy. Oh to occupy such a delightful space! What a congenial work/live environment the place must be!

I tear myself away, now running late, and resolve not to be distracted any longer. I pass more lovely streets and richly-coloured buildings as I wend my way back to the station, including the serene Christ Church, Spitalfields, with its attenuated lines and creamy palette. I regale Greg with my chronicles; he shares his own from the London Transport Museum. We then head south to Greenwich, where the rest of our day unfolds.

References: 
1. Wikipedia
2. TimeOut Guide (London 2010)

See slide show below to see more images (click on slide show to enlarge):

The Southbank, London: Day 4

The morning of April 23rd is bright and sunny. After a good sleep, Greg and I feel well rested for our first full day in London. We decide to carry on from where we leave off the previous night - the banks of the river Thames - and head there, again, on the Tube. A slight change from last night's approach: instead of exiting from the other side of the Thames at Embankment Station, we take the Tube farther east of Waterloo Bridge and exit at London Bridge Station. Opting for this exit positions us to better access our priorities for this tour: the Globe Theatre and the Tate Modern, ending the day at a concert at the Queen Elizabeth Hall (in the National Theatre complex).

Outside the Tube station, I remark, again, how the city scape is different here than the one just across the river, where we were last night. Here, the path and roads along the Thames are not exclusively contiguous to it. Through this part of the neighbourhood, they wind alongside historic churches and ruins, former shipping warehouses, and through arches. From the station, we head west, towards the National Theatre, in whose bookshop we briefly spent time the previous evening. On this route, we pass Southwark Cathedral, the replica of the Golden Hinde ship, the ruins of Westminster Palace, the replica of Shakespeare's Globe Theatre, and end the afternoon at the outstanding Tate Modern art museum.

Making our way through this path, the age of the streets and buildings transport us to the past. The cynic in me regards the scene as 'ye olde English towne'. But in contrast to the dioramas found in North American museums, this setting is authentic.

Until recently, the south bank was considered outside of London's formal boundaries. It receives less natural light than the north bank, and so was less favoured. During the Middle Ages, as the genteel segments of society were settling the north bank of the Thames, confirming it unofficially as 'The City', the south bank drew the less seemly: Theatrical entertainers, prostitutes, and those involved in the popular sport of bear baiting established there. The south bank's mud flats were the ideal landscape for docks and other forms of industry, much of it under private ownership and inaccessible to the public at large.

It was not until the early 20th century that public access to the south bank became possible, with the building of a new County Hall. Public access to the area was expanded when the Festival of Britain (1951) necessitated further development. This resulted in the famous Southbank Centre, a theatre complex consisting of such cultural venues as the Royal Festival Hall, The Hayward Gallery, and Queen Elizabeth Hall. The Royal National Theatre and British Film Institute, separate complexes, confirms this area as a significant cultural and artistic hub.

On reflec-
ting on the popularity of the Southbank, Greg and I conclude that much of it must be due to the numerous railway lines and bridges - both foot and vehicular - that facilitate access to it. And, of course, there is also the grand walkway that runs along the River Thames for two square miles.

It is this walkway that allows access to the various attractions along the way to the Southbank Centre. We start at Southwark Cathedral, a place of worship for over a thousand years and the mother church of the Anglican Diocese of Southwark. The building, close to London Bridge, is in the Gothic style and was built and re-built between 1220 and 1420.

Because of time con-
straints, we do not enter the cathe-
dral, but continue on the path, which takes us past Winchester Palace, now a ruin. This had been the London residence of the Bishops of Winchester, starting in the 12th century. As a powerful landowner at the time, the Bishop needed a base whenever he came to conduct business in the city. The palace was used until the 17th century, but was destroyed by fire in the 19th. Today, only a part of the outer walls and the remnants of its rose window remain. Prior to its destruction, Winchester Palace housed a tennis court, gardens, and even a bowling alley; it had also been richly decorated and had hosted royalty, including James I of Scotland, in the 15th century. Greg and I are struck by the solidity of the ruin, and the many layers of brick that look fossilized and contain gradations of colour.

Moving on from Winchester Palace, we follow the walkway along the river where modern condo-
miniums line the banks. The views from these must be spectacular. Across from these, on the river, is Southwark Bridge, built in 1921. Its design includes three arches and it functions as a road bridge. Designed by notable architect Ernest George and civil engineer Basil Nott, the Southwark Bridge replaces an earlier bridge on the same site, the Queen Street Bridge, built in 1819.

Greg and I continue on from Southwark Bridge and take in the visually rich scene: from precipitous buildings to huge crowds to colourful bridges to the emerald waters of the Thames. It is a scene that excites and awes.

As we continue walking eastwards, we come to the Globe Theatre, a recreation of the original that was constructed by William Shakespeare's  company, The Lord Chamberlain's Men, in 1599. There has been a total of 3 theatres on the same site, with the first one burning to the ground in 1613 and its replacement built in 1613 and closed in 1642. The most recent theatre is located about 200 metres from where the original had been, was built in 1997, and is made of similar materials as the original theatre. Performances of Shakespeare's plays are held from April to October and tours operate every hour during the season.

As we wait for our tour to start, we are directed to the Under-
Globe, an exhibition space below the theatre where dioramas depicting the theatre and its environs throughout the centuries are located. In addition, the space exhibits theatrical costumes, stage props, and maps. The tour itself is excellent; Greg and I remark on the competent tour guide: Despite her youth, she is articulate and highly knowledgeable. She provides detailed information on both the exterior and interior of the the theatre, responds to various questions with depth, then takes us in to watch a dress rehearsal of tonight's performance of "Othello". We cannot take in this performance, so it is great to see a snippet of the dress rehearsal. The company is highly reputed, and performances are often sold out. Just as in Shakespeare's days, standing to watch the play is permitted in the open-air space closest to the stage, though one has to be prepared for inclement weather.

Our next stop after an hour at the Globe Theatre is Millenium Bridge, east of Southwark Bridge.  A steel pedestrian bridge, its southern end lies at the entrance to the Tate Modern,  the magnificent gallery housed in a former power plant. Millenium Bridge, was started in 1998 and completed in time for the millenium. But it closed shortly after it opened due to structural issues, which caused the bridge to wobble when walked on. After repairs corrected the issue, the bridge was re-opened in 2002. The bridge is made in three sections and is over 300 metres long. The decking is 4 metres wide and the structure has a capacity of 5000 people.

From a design perspective, I admire the bridge's sleek modernist style, which contrasts wonderfully with the historic landscape. Contrasts create a wonderful aesthetic, in my opinion. They provide balance between form, structure, and texture, and also provoke thought. Not all contrasting elements achieve the balance necessary to create harmony, but I do think that the challenge to create this harmony through aesthetics is a worthwhile exercise. Doing so cultivates discernment.

I take a few photos of and from the bridge before Greg and I proceed to the Tate Modern. The building originally housed the Bankside Power Station and was built in two stages - one in 1947 and the other in 1963. It closed in 1981 but was converted into a museum by Swiss firm Herzog & de Meuron in 2000. At 99 metres tall, the building is imposing, partly due to its solid brick walls and vertical design. A roof-top addition displays signage declaring: "Free Entry - Tate Modern". North America take note: Most museums in London do not have entry fees. How is that for civility!

We note the spareness of the design, though much of this reflects the building's previous incarnation as a power plant, as opposed to a purposeful re-design by modern-day architects. This is complemented by a minimalist landscape in front of the building, augmented by the deliberate arrangement of poplar trees; when backlit by the sun, their leaves turn neon-green, presenting a bright contrast to the sober exterior walls of the gallery.

On entering this monolith, the immensity of the space is jaw-dropping. Yet, there is also something intimate and meditative about it, maybe because of the light that filters through the skylights and intermingles with the industrial steel girders and bare concrete walls and floors. The south section of the building is occupied by the Turbine Room, so-called because of what it used to house.  It is 34 storeys tall and has 3,400 square metres of floor space. It is now empty space, reserved for large temporary art installations, exhibited between October and March.  Some of the most famous contemporary artists have had work exhibited here, including Louise Bourgeois, Anish Kapoor, and Olafur Eliasson.

What I appreciate about the Tate Modern is how the art - all contemporary, from 1900 onwards - is curated thematically, not chronologically. In being so, the exhibits allow one to reflect on the similarities and differences between art of different periods. For instance, the third floor houses abstract, expressionist, and abstract-expressionist works, including those by Monet, Rothko, and Matisse; the fifth floor houses, cubist, futurist, and pop art works, including those by Picasso, Warhol, and Lichenstein. This floor also houses works by a favoured photographer, Eugene Atget, who documented much of Paris in the early part of the 20th century. Such an approach to curation compels the viewer to truly engage with the art, as opposed to merely looking at it. 

Regrettably, no photographs are allowed of the works, so I must be content to document the spaces. But there is enough of these to appreciate, including the extensive book and gift shop, in which we spend over an hour, simply marvelling at the variety of books, gifts, and displays of beautiful objects.

At the end of this tour, we down fast meals, then make our way to the National Theatre and the Queen Elizabeth Hall. There we take in a performance of To Rococco Rot, a band performing as part of the Southbank Electronic Music Festival, closing a day full of historical, architectural, and artistic wonders.

References: 
1. Wikipedia
2. TimeOut Guide (London 2010)

See slide show below to see more images (click on slide show to enlarge):

Soho, London: Day 3

It is now 5:00 p.m. After a five-hour sleep, Greg and I take the Tube down to Soho, in London's West End, where we revel in the vibrant street life. The London Tube is a remarkably complex system of a dozen lines, running simultaneously, and providing highly efficient service. In contrast to the Toronto Transit System (TTC), the London Tube trains are punctual, frequently-running, and clean, with comprehensible audio-recorded messages. The messages themselves, in contrast to those in Toronto subways, are well-composed, with a kind, respectful tone. Surprisingly, these seem to make all the difference in making me feel well-served and welcome on the trains, not dismissed or condescended on (TTC take note!).

Soho, for much of its history, was farmland, until Henry VIII trans-
formed it into parkland in the mid-16th century, for the Palace of Whitehall, the English monarchs' main residence in London for 150 years (it was destroyed by fire in 1698); Whitehall was the largest residence in Europe at the time, with 1500 rooms. The name Soho appeared in the 17th century, and is believed to have come from the rallying cry of hunters.

Soho was first granted to Henry Jermyn, the first Earl of St. Albans; but it was a labourer, Richard Frith, who initiated the development of the area. The original intention had been to transform Soho into another fashionable neighbourhood, such as Bloomsbury, but the aristocratic residents gradually vacated it, and by the 17th century, Huguenots - French Protestants escaping persecution from French Catholics - progressively settled, founding a church there; however, the area rapidly declined from neglect. By the 19th century, most of the aristocratic families had moved away, and drinking establishments, music halls, and prostitution had replaced what had once been a largely residential neighbourhood.

Today, Soho is a highly diverse residential and commercial area. It is one of London's most popular social hubs, consisting of endless varieties of shops, restaurants, pubs, and clubs. It is where all ages, persuasions, and orientations congregate to watched and be watched. It is a flaneur's paradise.

Walking around, marvelling at the extent, variety, and colour of the various shopping arcades, boutiques, and restaurants, we are reminded of strolling in New York, except that London, being older, has more charming old Victorian piles, many of which have renovated interiors that reflect a modernist aesthetic. It is a great way of combining the old with the new. We dine in a small restaurant in the heart of Soho, serving simple Continental fare.

We continue wandering and end up at Foyles Bookshop, on Charing Cross Road, where we spend the next hour browsing. Bookshops are our commonly-shared weakness, so we often visit them on trips. Foyles is famous, so we had high expectations of its offerings. But even we were surprised by the range of subject matter, together with the sheer number of books within those categories. The multi-storied shop even has a comprehensive selection of textbooks of all disciplines. Of note is how reasonably-priced the merchandise is, in contrast to what we'd expected. I buy a novel for about $5.00 and Greg, a number of books for less than $100.00. So far, we have found prices for goods, in general, to be lower than expected. It's likely due to the strong Canadian dollar.

It is now 10:00 p.m. We leave Foyles and hop on the Tube again, this time heading to the Victoria Embankment, on the shores of the River Thames. Exiting the Tube Station, we are struck by the difference between this landscape and the one we were just in. In Toronto, much of the downtown is fairly uniform in its layout, form, and architectural styles, even down by the waterfront. London neighbourhoods, it seems, are far more diverse in aesthetics, age, and feel. I like how this diversity allows one to choose an area to be in, depending on one's mood.

From the Embankment, we cross Waterloo Bridge to the South Bank, an area experiencing rapid expansion, where many of London's cultural, artistic, and theatrical institutions are based. Examples include the replica of the Globe Theatre, where Shakespeare's plays continue to be staged; The Tate Modern, a huge art gallery housed in a former electrical plant; and the National Theatre, where many of the plays of Alan Bennett - one of my favourite playwrights - are staged. This latter building is still open, so we browse the book shop (all institutions here have bookshops, which add to their appeal, at least to us). We don't linger as the place is about to close, but we do manage to buy a few books of plays (new Alan Bennett, woo hoo!), before heading back to the hotel.

Being April, the evenings are cold, especially near open water. It's now around 11:30 p.m.

References: 
1. Wikipedia
2. TimeOut Guide (London 2010)

See slide show below to see more images (click on slide show to enlarge):

Bloomsbury, London: Day 2

We arrive in London at 5 a.m., after an exhausting 7-hour flight from Toronto.

Greg and I had been assigned separate seats on the flight, and I could not sleep due to being in the middle seat of a row of three; it was cramped and I was too warmly dressed. Time seemed to drag, and I was still processing the utter surprise of actually going to Europe. Based on the consistent disappointments of the past week, I thought we would never make it; so, apart from the discomfort, what kept me awake was the excitement of finally being on our way.

We are in the 'family cue' and are interviewed by an Anglo-African female customs' officer at Gatwick Airport. She has a shock of fluorescent pink hair and fingers glistening with silver rings. Looking at our passports, then at us, she says: "By these photos I take it you're partners, not brothers, right?" I am mortified, but only for seconds. She smiles; we both smile back. We feel welcomed, but not patronized, and certainly not viewed with suspicion or malice. What an auspicious beginning!

After lingering in the terminal to get our bearings, we board the Gatwick Express and sit back for the 3o-minute ride. We remark on how, in contrast to Toronto, where one has to wait for a regular transit bus that takes one to the end of a subway line, London has this well-appointed, clean, and efficient express train that takes us straight to Victoria Station, in about 30 minutes. While waiting to depart, and noting the sun dawning in a clear sky, I could sense myself calming after the week's upheaval.

It is 7:00 a.m. when we arrive at Lisa Court Hotel, on Argyle Street, our home base for the next 5 days. It is run by a very formal, though highly accommodating Nigerian woman. She hdd been in contact with Greg throughout the week, monitoring our progress with the airline, maintaining our reservation status, despite what ended up being a week's delay to our original arrival date. Knowing we had had a stressful week, she is keen to make us feel at home. She is generous with her advice about places we might see as our room is readied, and she stores our luggage while we prepare to take in the neighbourhood of Bloomsbury.

This area's fame is due to the number of garden squares that distinguish it from other London neighbour-
hoods, along with some famous churches. It was also home to the group of early 20th century artists and intellectuals - including writer Virginia Woolf; her artist sister, Vanessa Bell; Bell's husband, Clive; writer E.M. Forster; and economist John Maynard Keynes - who lived and held meetings in various townhouses in the neighbourhood. Despite its modest appearance, Bloomsbury has, within its borders, several museums, including the famed British Museum; the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art; and several hospitals, including the Great Ormond Street Hospital.

Bloomsbury was conceived in the 17th century by the noble Russell family, holders of the Duke and Earl of Bedford titles, though its physical location existed long before then, to the 13th century, when William de Blemond of Normandy acquired the land. The name Bloomsbury evolved from the name of Blemondisburi, or manor of Blemond. In the 14th century, the area was acquired by the Carthusian monks, who maintained it as farmland for the next 200 years. When Henry VIII severed ties with the Roman Church during his reign, he dissolved many of the English monasteries and churches and re-possessed their lands in the name of the Crown, including the area now known as Bloomsbury. This area he gifted to the 1st Earl of Southampton in the mid-17th century, though the design and laying out of the area did not occur until the 18th century by the 3rd Earl of Bedford, Wriothesley Russell, after whom Russell Square (and the famous hotel that fronts it) is named.

Walking around Bloomsbury is like stepping back in time. Greg and I are struck by the authenticity of the built environment - the buildings, streets, and small parks - that recall the late 19th century. We're charmed by the quaint Georgian townhouses and glorious Victorian piles. The area contains a depth and humaneness that, in contrast, seem lacking in North American cities. We love how, at unexpected turns, there can be a small, but beautifully maintained park or church; we envy the accessibility to and variety of family-run services, such as hardware stores, laundromats, bookshops, and restaurants, which all lend to the neigbourhood's homey yet elegant appeal.

By now it is 8:00 a.m., and people from the area are heading over to King's Cross, one of the major subway stations in London, for the morning commute. King's Cross, built in 1852 by the Great Northern Railways Company, had fallen into decline, but has recently seen a resurgence, thanks, in part, to the extensive refurbishment of its next-door neighbour, St. Pancras International Train Station. This station is home to the Eurostar, the TGV train that connects France and England, and whose expansive glass roof is no less than 243 feet in its span.

The city is at its best in the spring, and today is no exception. The sun is out, the sky a brilliant cerulean, the birds singing in droves, and everywhere there are blooming cherry trees. The weather and the lushness help to buoy our exhausted spirits, awake now for close to 24 hours.

Our walk takes us from our hotel over to Russell Square, where we have tea and biscuits, before returning to the hotel for a few hours' sleep. It is now around 11:00 a.m.

References:
1. Wikipedia
2. TimeOut Guide (London 2010)

See slide show below for more images (click on slide show to enlarge it):