Oof. Sunday was a funny sort of day. By now, London had sweltered through a full week of over 30C temperatures and everyone was over it.
Corinna, her flat ate Michelle and I listlessly dragged ourselves around the apartment, before finally deciding that Corinna and I would go to
Wait rose, the supermarket around the corner, and buy some readymade meals for lunch and dinner.
On our return, we ate and then decided we’d go to the Natural History Museum.
This was a mistake.
If you have children, then this would probably be a great place to entertain them for a while. There was certainly enough of them around the place.
We had two things we wanted to see. Corinna was keen to see a collection of photos that the photographer had taken of places in the arctic circle that had links to oil / petrol / other evil stuff.
She enjoyed it. Me? Not so much. I got bored with looking at buildings surrounded by snow. I’m the silly sort of person who wants to see real dinosaur bones in a natural history museum.
There was a dodo!
And another one!
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This is the famous Blue Whale skeleton, suspended high above us all in the central hall.
Corinna and some giraffes. See how droopy she looks? The cool change hadn’t arrived then.
This was the only interesting thing in the dinosaur exhibit. This little dinosaur had eaten a crocodile and then was frozen in time.
The bones of the crocodile can still be seen in its stomach.
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Zero in on the pterodactyl above the window.
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Oof. Sunday was a funny sort of day. By now, London had sweltered through a full week of over 30C temperatures and everyone was over it.
Corinna, her flat ate Michelle and I listlessly dragged ourselves around the apartment, before finally deciding that Corinna and I would go to
Wait rose, the supermarket around the corner, and buy some readymade meals for lunch and dinner.
On our return, we ate and then decided we’d go to the Natural History Museum.
This was a mistake.
If you have children, then this would probably be a great place to entertain them for a while. There was certainly enough of them around the place.
We had two things we wanted to see. Corinna was keen to see a collection of photos that the photographer had taken of places in the arctic circle that had links to oil / petrol / other evil stuff.
She enjoyed it. Me? Not so much. I got bored with looking at buildings surrounded by snow. I’m the silly sort of person who wants to see real dinosaur bones in a natural history museum.
There was a dodo!
And another one! This one looks very unimpressed at being extinct.
I noticed a lot of fossils had this woman’s name attached to them. It’s worth reading the information tag about her, especially the third paragraph. Like, really???
Here’s one of the fossils she discovered. There was heaps of them.
This is the famous Blue Whale skeleton, suspended high above us all in the central hall.
Corinna and some giraffes. See how droopy she looks? The cool change hadn’t arrived then.
This was the only interesting thing in the dinosaur exhibit. This little dinosaur had eaten a crocodile and then was frozen in time.
The bones of the crocodile can still be seen in its stomach.
We went to the dinosaur section. Corinna weighed up the situation much quicker than I did and she was out of there, messaging me that she was going to the cafe to buy some water.
As I emerged from the hellscape that is the dinosaur section, I messaged Corinna. While I’d been knee-deep in screaming kids, she’d been having a lovely time wandering around and looking at the building.
She remembered it from a school trip in childhood and was really pleased to see it again.
Once she started pointing things out to me, I saw it. This building is beautifully designed.
The brickwork and gargoyles alone are amazing. Such attention to detail!
Suddenly the trip was all worthwhile.
When we emerged, the cool change had finally hit. I didn’t realise quite how much Corinna had been affected by the heat. She revived in front of my eyes!
We looked at a modern art gallery, which neither of us liked, then we grabbed a coffee and sat outside and talked about all sorts of things.
(Zero in on the pterodactyl above the window.)
One of the best things about staying here with Corinna was our conversations. She’s a very deep thinker and our talks ranged all over the place. It was lovely to spend so much time together.
After our coffee it was time to go and see ‘ The Gunpowder Plot’, which coincidentally was situated right next to our tube station of Tower Hill.
This play was an immersive experience. I’d never done one of these before and it was fun. With a mix of live actors, VR helmets and a maze of sets that we were guided around, we became part of the gunpowder plotters.
The part where we were put in a priest hole and they “searched” for us was actually quite good. It gave a slight flavour of what it would have been like to be hiding in one. This will become relevant later on.
Two funny things:
Corinna knew one of the actors. They went to university together.
The character of the priest had my real life name.
We walked back home along the docks, ate our Waitrose dinners, worked out how much I owed Corinna for tickets she’d bought along the way, then I fell into bed. I mean… my couch.
Tomorrow I leave Corinna and Tower Hill and I’ll be travelling to the suburbs to meet my friend Deana.
Corinna has the weekend free so last night we worked out what we wanted to do today.
First up, after a very leisurely start to the day, which I much appreciated, we went for a walk along the canals in Wapping to go to a small local market.
Along the way, she entertained me with tales of Wapping during lockdowns, when Whatapp groups would form and sometimes big drama would unfold. People would be messaging each other, “ Have you seen what’s going down on the Wapping tennis group??”
Here’s the view from over our shoulders. The Shard seems to pop up everywhere.
Corinna loves living here, and I don’t blame her.
The day was already getting very hot. We got to the market, which is a tiny little local one, tucked away in the midday of the suburb by the canals. We looked at watercolours, and I successfully avoided buying one because I spent so much money on my picture the day before. Corinna bought an iced latte or something and we sat on the water’s edge in the shade, people watching.
“They play a type of water polo here, with men in canoes,” said Corinna. “It’s bizarre, seeing these burly men all trying to tip each other’s boats over and hitting the ball with their oars.” She also said that there are a few deaths every year in the canals, probably drunk people light-heartedly jumping in and then getting snagged.
We then took a different walk home, along the river. Here’s our old friend the Shard again.
Look at this! In a couple of days time I’d be riding over Tower bridge in a double-decker bus. How lucky can one woman be?
We took a snap to send to the Antarctica group. It’s amazing how often we’ve seen each other since then.
A little place called the Tower of London was along our route home. God, how I loved the tower when I was here last time in 2015. I think I dragged Scott to see every last brick of the place. And then I saw this:
The Traitors Gate from the outside! I was so thrilled.
This weekend was boiling, with temperatures in the low thirties. Even I was starting to feel it, but poor Corinna was dying. We decided that chasing aircon was going to be the theme of the weekend. so off we went to Somerset House, to the Courtold Gallery, to see some art.
I loved this one. It’s’Cupid and Psyche’ by Reynolds, where Psyche first catches a glimpse of the young man who’s been visiting her at night.
I felt sorry for this girl. Here’s what the information card said:
George Romney (1734-1802)
Portrait of Georgiana, Lady Greville
Around 1771-72
George Romney painted this portrait around the time Georgiana Peachey married the politician Lord Greville. It was the artist’s first aristocratic commission. The sitter wears fine outdoor clothing and a fashionable headdress that express her wealth and high social status. She looks away modestly, as was thought appropriate for a young noble woman. Georgiana died on her first wedding anniversary, aged 19, a few days after giving birth.
The gallery currently has an exhibition of fakes and frauds. It’s worth reading the explanation for this one.
It’s a thrill when you see the actual originals of images that you’ve seen your whole life. This is Renoir’s ‘La Lage’ ( the theatre box).
Both people are wearing black and white, but look at how the woman stands out so much more than the man.
I love a Rodin sculpture.
Ah, the ballerina paintings! The info card reads:
Edgar Degas (1834-1917)
Two Dancers on a Stage
1874
Edgar Degas was fascinated by ballet, producing over a thousand works on the subject. While this work appears to depict a performance, the presence of a third ballerina at rest indicates it may in fact be a dress rehearsal, to which Degas was often granted access.
The painting’s side view is unconventional. It is as if we are observing from a box at the edge of the stage. The lines on the floor, which may represent tracks for sliding scenery, emphasise Degas’s dynamic composition while evoking the staging of ballet.
I loved the feel of this one.
Of course, everyone knows who this is. The bandage over the cut-off ear is a dead giveaway.
There were other paintings that I loved, but Deana and I are heading out soon so I’ll cut it short.
Once we came out of the gallery we headed out into the quadrangle of Somerset House. This place is HUGE.
The quadrangle has a water feature of many jets of water shooting upwards. The place was alive with children, all having a wonderful time getting wet. The place was alive with the squeals and laughter of happy kids. Corinna and I grabbed a table in the shade and sat here for ages, just watching the kids and chatting. It was lovely.
We were off to the theatre, but first we had a delicious meal from Nomad’s pre-theatre menu. We loved the aircon here! It felt absolutely freezing when we walked in, but it’s amazing how quickly the body gets used to things. Within a couple of minutes we felt utterly comfortable.
Yum. Then it was off to the theatre!
When ‘Six’ was in Melbourne, Jenna urged me to go and see it, saying that I’d love it.
Of course, a musical about Henry VIII’s wives certainly hits all my buttons. It was terrific. What I really enjoyed was that they didn’t muck around with the actual history of the wives. All of the information was accurate. I could relax and enjoy the show without being pulled out of the show by jarring lyrics.
Definitely going to be adding these songs to my Spotify when I get home!
Today was the day I’d been waiting for. Today was the day that I was finally going to stand on Henry VIII’s grave. This was the deciding point of the question, “Where do I want to go for my birthday?”
My main wish was to stand on his grave on my actual birthday, which is September 6. Unfortunately, this fell on a Wednesday this year and the chapel is closed on Wednesdays. Momentarily dashed by this news, I rallied and so today- on Friday – I was finally going to fulfill the dream of a lifetime.
Windsor Castle is the oldest working castle in the world.
Windsor Castle is conveniently located right outside the train station. Nice of William the Conqueror to put the castle here back on 1066. So easy for the tourists.
On my way towards the castle I saw an art gallery with prints by Billy Connelly. I filed that information away to use on the way back.
I had a ticket for 10 o’clock, so I wandered around the streets for a bit.
I stood chatting to a nice policewoman for a few minutes. “See down there?” She said, pointing. “Fortescues has the best ice cream in Windsor, in my opinion.”
Finally it was time to go in. I presented my ticket to the guard, queued for my audio guide and then I emerged into the open space within the castle walls. If I went up, I’d be going to the castle state rooms. But if I headed down the hill, I’d be walking towards St George chapel, where Henry is buried. So are 11 other monarchs, including Elizabeth II last year.
I saw this on the way. Then I saw another changing of the guard…
But enough of that! Time for the chapel.
The chapel was incredibly beautiful.
It also had my signs saying NO PHOTOGRAPHY. Fortunately I only got caught right at the end.
The first thing I did was to light a candle for my great grandfather, who died in France in the trenches of WWI. Just thought I’d let him know I was back.
Remember
tower
when I told you about Princess Charlotte dying in childbirth and bring forth the race for her royal uncles to produce an heir? The race which resulted in Victoria being born.
This statue was paid for by donations from the public, who were apparently distraught at the princess’s death.
She’s lying at the bottom of the statue, under a shroud, while above, her spirit is soaring to heaven. Angels are either side of her, one holding her stillborn baby.
I think this statue is wonderful. It’s tucked away in an alcove of the chapel behind a barrier. You’d walk straight past it if it wasn’t on the audio guide.
History would probably have been very different if Queen Charlotte had’ve inherited the throne instead of Queen Victoria.
Now this was a thrill!
Here are the graves of Edward of York and Elizabeth Woodville.
She must have been incredibly hot. Legend has it that she was waiting at the side of the road to petition the king for some money to support herself and her 2 sons, because her husband had died in the war of the roses, fighting for the other side.
He took one look at her and was absolutely smitten and married her in secret, which really annoyed a powerful nobleman called Warwick, who was engaged in negotiations with the French king for Edward to marry one of his daughters. Embarrassing…
They ended up having 6, (I think) children, with the 2 boys becoming the lost princes of the Tower of London.
Yes, when Edward died at the ripe old age of 41, probably from too much carousing and fornicating, the oldest boy became king. The boys were put into the Tower “ to keep them safe “ and were never heard from again. Suspicion is on their uncle Richard II, who became king, but no one really knows for sure what happened.
The altar is stunning. It faces east, which is apparently a thing in churches, because Christ said that he’ll popping back to earth in the morning.
I had a feeling that I was getting close to my life goal of standing on Henry VIII’s grave. I spoke to a guide who, when I asked if I was near, smiled and said, “You’re about 10 feet away.”
Then he said, “I’ll show you something,” and he brought a photograph of the contents of Henry’s grave.
He said that there was some debate about whether Charles I was in there with him, so they lifted the slab and had a look.
The coffin in the middle was Henry VIII. The coffin was damaged, probably by Cromwell’s troops. To his right was Jane Seymour, the only wife who succeeded in giving him a legitimate son. ( She died 11 days later, poor thing.)
The coffin on the left had a body whose head had been cut off, so that was a big hint that it was actually Charles I. Someone had tried to sew the head back onto the body, which I felt was a bit sad.
A stillborn baby of Queen Anne was in there too.
The guide then told me about the stalls which were on either side of the altar. These were for the Knights of the Garter. Each knight gets his own stall, with a brass plate, a sword and a banner. If the knight is a woman, they get a brass plaque, a hat and banner.
Prince William is the 1,000th Knight of the Garter. Nice round number.
I was strangely reluctant to move further, so I sat down and gazed around at the beautifully carved stalls and all of the colours of the chapel. No wonder the Queen wanted to be buried here.
Forgot to mention that I saw her final resting place on the way into the main part of the chapel.
Here it is. A simple marble slab set into the floor of the chapel. This wasn’t at all how Henry planned to be interred. He’d planned a huge memorial tomb with lifelike figures of himself and Jane, but he died before work could really get started.
Done!
I sat there for quite a while, looking at the grave and pondering life.
On my way out, I stopped to read another marble slab. Omg – it’s Charles Brandon. He was one of Henry VIII’s best friends. He was entrusted with taking Henry’s little sister over to France to marry the old king there. She wasn’t happy about this match at all, so she got Henry to promise that she could choose her next husband herself. On the way over, she and Brandon fell in love.
She proceeded to marry the French king and spent the next year trying her hardest to push him into an early grave by exhausting him every day.
It worked, and she and Brandon married in secret. When they came clean, it was a dangerous moment. Henry was FURIOUS because a marriageable princess was a useful bargaining chip for a king to have. After a few months, he missed his friend’s company, so he graciously forgave them and bought them back to court.
I had to show you this. He must have been very talented to capture the devil in this way!
I succumbed and bought an Anne of Cleves Christmas tree ornament. She was his fourth wife, who had the brains to accept his proposal of divorce. She was given lots of money and many properties. She wasn’t allowed to marry, but really, I’d imagine that once you’ve escaped the snare of marrying Henry, you’d be keen to keep your freedom.
Outside Prince Albert’s last resting place, I saw this ancient graffiti.
This is a little look at the world outside. See how thick the walls are?
Like a toy soldier.
I walked back up the hill towards the queue to the staterooms. Gazing up at the Round Tower, I reflected that in a couple of hours, I’d be climbing to the top.
Everywhere I looked was amazing. It’s like I was in a movie.
I’m loving it.
The first thing I saw was Queen Mary’s doll house.
This was never intended as a toy, but as a demonstration of British craftsmanship. It’s a 1:12 scale and was impressive. Built in 1924, it has running water and electricity. Even the gramophone player can play the records.
They were adamant about no photos in the staterooms, and in the main I respected it. I already had the important pictures of the chapel. But now and then something came along that was all too tempting.
Grand reception room. WOW. it was stunning. There was gold leaf everywhere! It was fantastic,
The room was extensively damaged in the fire that ripped through Windsor Castle in 1992. The ceiling, in particular, was destroyed and has been totally restored.
They certainly did a great job. It was wonderful.
In another room I saw these portraits. One was of a young Princess Elizabeth, with a couple of books beside her showing that she was intelligent and learned. The underskirt and sleeves are made of material used only for royals, while again, she’s wearing pearls.
The other was of her half=brother, Prince Edward, before he became king when his father, Henry VIII died. There’s a definite family resemblance, isn’t there?
All of Henry’s plotting and planning to get a male heir was all for nothing. Edward died when he was just 16, probably of tuberculosis.
And here’s the portrait of King Richard III. The king in the car park, Shakespeare’s evil villain. But I’ve always had a soft spot for him, after reading Sharon Penman’s novel ‘ The Sunny in Splendour.’
I had to take a shot of this one. It’s Charles II’s official bed, where he was ceremoniously put to bed and woken up each day.
What a colossal waste of time! He was a notorious philanderer, so as soon as the gentlemen putting him to bed had left, he would have been up and moving onwards to one of his mistresses rooms.
The shots that follow are of the Grand Quadrangle. During the fire of 1992, priceless works of art, furniture and books that are so precious that it would normally take weeks to work out how to move them, were hastily grabbed and thrown on this patch of grass, simply to stop them from being destroyed.
Queen Victoria once invited a circus to come and perform for the inhabi Of the castle, and they were located here.
In earlier days, this was where jousting was held.
I was very pleasantly surprised to learn that my climb up the 200 steps of the Round Tower was a guided tour. Again, no photos were permitted before a certain point, which made sense as it’s a working part of the castle so they need to be careful about security.
But I took this sneaky pic of the first entry point of the tower.
You can see that the stairs get progressively more narrow the further up you go. This is to create a bottleneck of knights and soldiers, making it easier for the defenders to pick them off.
if you enlarge the picture, you’ll notice that in the middle of the wall at the end is a small cannon sticking out. It was put in in the 1640’s. it’s designed to shoot grapeshot. It’s never been used, but I guess it’s better to have it and not need it, than to need it and not have it,
Once we were past a certain point, we were allowed to take photos.
I don’t think any enemy would be able to sneak up on the castle unawares!
This is a view of the Long Walk It takes people straight to the racetrack at Ascot.
It turns out that I was here on the first anniversary of the Queen’s death.
This is not the place to drop your phone.
Our guide explained that the stones that Windsor Castle are made of contain silica. Whenever it rains, and in England it often does, the stones self clean. It always looks clean.
William the Conqueror built a ring of castles 25 miles apart, all to protect London. Twenty five miles is the average day’s ride for an army. Windsor is one of them.
I tried to get a picture of one of the planes flying over the castle. The juxtaposition of old and new. Tried and tried…
Until at last, just as I left the gate, I had my chance!
And of course I went back to the ice cream shop.
It was delicious.
As if this day wasn’t already amazing, I also saw the perfect painting to represent this trip to the UK. The story behind this series is that the artist is saying that all of the important, iconic things in your childhood get gradually buried under the day-to-day lives we all lead. But they’re still reaching out to us, saying, “We’re still here… Don’t forget us….”
I’ve warned Ryan28 to expect a very large parcel. It turns out that they’re shipping it to me in the frame!
First stop of the day was Kensington Palace. I wasn’t terrifically excited about seeing this, but it was a convenient thing to see in the morning, before I made the trek to see the next thing on the list in the afternoon.
I had a ticket for 10AM. As I was walking across the park toward the palace, the heat was already noticeable.
Lots of families and groups of young mums, buggies and dogs in tow, were sitting in the shade under trees. As I walked, Kensington Palace came into view, the gilt on the gates glistening in the sun.
I was surprised that there was no airport style security here. Each bag was searched by hand.
The tour is divided into two sections. The first is a fashion exhibition – “ From Court to Couture.” The next was the permanent exhibition of Queen Victoria’s childhood.
So what’s so important about these stairs? Why, only that these two lovebirds first met on them!
Victoria was smitten by his dashing good looks from the start. Fun fact : she had to propose to him because, being a queen, she outranked him.
Queen Victoria ended up HATING her mother.
Queen Victoria was actually lucky to be born. She never would’ve existed except for the fact that her cousin Princess Charlotte, who was George IV’s only legitimate heir, died in childbirth. The king was never going to have another heir – he and his wife lived apart and absolutely loathed each other. But he had 3 brothers who were single…
Some of them were living contentedly with their longtime mistresses and families, but that all changed when Charlotte died. They were ordered to get married to suitable wives and get busy producing heirs asap.
Two of them actually produced kids- a girl and a boy. But because Victoria’s dad was the elder of the two dads, she became heir. Her daddy promptly died, leaving Victoria’s mum to bring her up. The royal family didn’t like her much – the mother, I mean – especially when she made Sir John Conroy the head of the princess’s household. Over time, they both became very keen on the idea of running the regency should Victoria become Queen before the age of 18. By this time, another king was on the throne – his wife is whom Adelaide in Australia is named for – and although he was failing in health, he vowed to stay alive until she’d reached that magic birthday.
Conroy’s rules for the princess were very controlling. She was never allowed to use the staircase alone, she had to share her bedroom with her mother and that’s all I can remember, though there were more.
When Victoria was 16, she was very sick from a fever and while she was so sick, her mother tried to force her to sign a paper giving the regency to herself and Conroy. Victoria refused, perhaps showing the first sign of that stubbornness she showed in later life.
. As soon as Victoria became queen, shortly after her 18th birthday , she moved from Kensington to Buckingham palace, sacked Conroy and put her mother’s rooms at the opposite side of the palace to hers. Fair enough, too.
When I entered the palace, first I had to go through the fashion exhibition. For anyone who follows fashion and celebrities, this exhibition would be amazing. For me, I was more interested in the older exhibits, so that’s pretty much what you’re going to see.
This is a silver court dress from Charles II’s time.
This is the widest surviving court gown in Britain at nearly three metres wide. At Court, most people chose to make an impact wearing expensive brocaded fabrics.
This is a plain silk and so would have been cheaper fabric to buy. However its size and the sheer quality of workmanship and design make up for the less expensive fabric. Worn in 1760.
What got me about this tiara was the “accepted by the government in lieu of inheritance taxes” bit.
Here’s a list of the rules Princess Victoria had to follow. Once I’d finished seeing her rooms it was time to see the Diana memorial.
The sunken garden where her memorial statue is located is surrounded on 3 sides by this walkway, with strategic spots being cut out for views. Considering that this was another 30C day, you have no idea how welcome this shade was. I sat here on a bench for a while, contemplatively licking the ice cream cone I bought earlier.
After this, I jumped on a bus and went for 12 stops to a place called 575 Wandsworth Road. I fell asleep along the way and only woke up when I dropped my water bottle with a CRASH.
I was coming here to see a National Trust property that I saw online a couple of months ago. The description was very brief, but it said that they only allow tours of 6 and that you have to take off your shoes to protect the painted floors. What sealed the deal for me was that they only run tours here two days a week, and they only release spots for the tours a month ahead.
There has to be something niche about this house, I thought, as I began stalking the website. Then, one day I logged on and there it was! Tickets available on “my” week! I dithered… Thursday or Friday? I had to hurry… those places could go at any second! I jabbed at Thursday and the deed was done. because I was a National Trust member in Australia, ( my card arrived a few days before I left), I was able to get in for free. Bargain!
Along the way, I saw this rhinoceros being suspended from a building. I was on the upper floor of a double decker. This was just before I took that nap I was telling you about earlier.
Here it is. Such a nondescript place. No sign outside except for the tiny one obviously put there only when it’s open. I had a big chunk of time to kill before 3 o’clock so I made myself comfy in the shade and began writing a blog post for Greenwich.
After a while the previous tour group came out. One woman said to me, “You’re going to love it. It’s like setting foot into Narnia!”
As it turned out, 3 people didn’t show, so I was on the smallest tour ever. This house is totally unique. I’m so glad I visited.
Basically, this house has carved fretwork everywhere. Khadambi Asalache bought this house in the 80’s and set about making it entirely his own space. A bit like what I’m doing with my place, but I’m not putting in anything like this effort that he did!
When I woke, it was to lots of birthday wishes from everyone I love. Yes, today Frogdancer Jones enters a new decade!
I was originally supposed to arrive today, but I brought my trip a few days forward so that I could be sure that I could attend lunch at the Sky Garden with Scott.
But first I had to check out of the hotel and get to Corinna’s place. As I was zipping up my case, the fire alarm sounded. I looked around the room, then at my fully packed bags and thought, “We’ll, I’m ok to evacuate!” and I left.
Seeing Corinna again was so lovely. The street numbers on her street aren’t very clear, so she had to come out on her balcony to guide me in.
“I can see you,” she called.
“I can’t see you!” I called back.
I dropped my case, we had a quick chat and then she was off to work and I was off to meet Scott, who was coming down by train from his place in Market Harborough.
He suggested we meet outside a church that is near a big junction of roads. Citimapper got confused, but luckily I bumped into a woman giving away chocolate truffles – she gave me 5 when I said it was my birthday – and she directed me down the correct arm of the junction. She used to live in Sydney.
I was sitting on the steps of the church, blogging about Buckingham Palace when Scott arrived. Big hugs all round and after a quick look at the church – St Mary Woolnoth for all of those T S Elliot fans out there – we walked to the Sky Garden.
( This tall pillar with gold on top marks where the Great Fire in 1666 first started. It destroyed over 80% of the city.)
It’s as the name suggests… it’s a garden in a skyscraper. It’s free to get in, but you have to book in advance otherwise half of London might turn up on any given day. There are 3 restaurants. We were heading for the mid tier one.
Before we went in for lunch, we had a look around.
Scott said that The Shard’s viewing platforms were higher, but they were so high as to be almost too removed from the ground below. The Shy Garden’s platforms are high enough to have the city sprawled out below, but you can still see people. You’re still a part of the city.
Lunch was delectable. We were given a window table and the first thing we ordered was a glass of bubbly each, to celebrate this auspicious day.
Over lunch we began the big “ catch up “ conversation. It was such a treat, sitting across from such a good friend, with an extraordinary view below, eating the best plate of food I’ve had in a looong while.
It was worth coming here a few days easily to ensure I didn’t miss it.
After lunch we went on a walking tour of Landon’s City district. It was interesting, but was made completely memorable when, after Corinna happened to send me 4 or 5 WhatsApp messages, the guide rather snappishly told me to stop filming him.
As I was doing no such thing, I quickly set him straight and he was very nice to me for the rest of the walk. But there was no tip for him at the end!
The day was hot at 32C, so we sheltered in an ancient Roman exhibition that was really boring, but the aircon was excellent! Then upstairs in an air conditioned Starbucks we continued our conversation until it was time for Scott to catch his train.
It was a beautiful birthday present, but the day wasn’t over yet.
I walked back to Corinna’s after leaving the tube, passing by these two beauties.
Just wonderful. I had to walk along the docks for a bit. It was bustling with people and there were a few boats too.
Corinna took me to an Israeli restaurant for my birthday. I’ve never tasted Israeli cuisine before and it was amazing! The complexities of the many spices used in each dish were like a party on the tongue.
With free birthday shots from the restaurant and a cocktail each, we were feeling no pain. We lingered over dinner and then took the 2 walks and 2 trains home.
It was an absolutely wonderful birthday and the perfect way to enter into a new decade.
Today turned out to be another very hot day in London. My arrival coincided with one of the biggest heat waves on record here. Day after day of 30C heat.
Of course, I turned up wearing merino wool, almost from head to toe. This week was going to be a test for the dress and the t shirts!
Greenwich village is a little way down from London proper, but a short ride on the tube, the monorail and a short walk was all that was required to get me to the first stop of the day.
The Queen’s House.
I got there a little early so I settled myself on the balcony outside and gazed at this glorious view. Isn’t it beautiful? It’s the perfect mix of old and new.
Then I saw Deana approaching across the lawn. She was giving me a Greenwich tour for my birthday.
Deana and I met eight years ago when I announced on the frog blog that I was going over to the UK. She emailed and introduced herself, explaining that she’d read the blog for years and invited me to stay at her place for a few days.
She didn’t sound like an axe murderer so I accepted. I spent 3 happy days with Deana and her family, and she took me to see Hever Castle ( Anne Boleyn’s childhood home), Jane Austen’s house in Hampshirite, which is an absolute Must See) and Canterbury Cathedral.
It’s been a long time between visits, but here we are again!
The Queen’s house has an interesting history that, if I was blogging on my laptop I’d link to it, but I’m not so you”ll have to do it yourself. It has many beautiful things in it, but I was here to see one thing in particular- the Armada portrait of Elizabeth I.
There are a lot of paintings here, which isn’t surprising as the house was an art studio during Charles II’s reign. He allowed a family of maritime Dutch painters to work here, so there are MANY paintings of maritime battles and such. Yet there are other paintings hidden among them that delighted me as well.
I loved this painting, It’s a Rembrandt, called “Christ and St Mary Magdalene at the tomb.” It’s depicting when she sees Christ and realised that the impossible has happened and he’s risen from the dead.
He is sporting a nice sun hat. I guess it’s sensible – it’s warm in the Middle East.
This one is really cool. It’s “The Parting Cheer” by O’Neil. It’s showing the pain and heartbreak of those left behind when their loved ones sail away towards a new life. I love that there’s one little girl who’s aware of our presence and is looking straight at us.
These paintings are of the Normandy landings in 1944, by Stephen Bone. They think they were painted on the spot because there are traces of sand caught in the paint.
Look at the beauty of the Tulip Stairs.
We loved them!
Charles II gave permission for a father and son team to live at the Queen’s House and paint. Here is a picture of the father, Willem van der Velda. It’s thought that the parchment he’s holding was originally blank, but his son, (same name but with “the younger “ attached) painted some plans that his father had been working on. Sort of like saying, “This is what my Dad did.”
This is an engraved Nautilus shell. I actually have one of these in my china cabinet at home. My grandmother Dolly found it on a beach in Queensland and was so happy about it. This one is far larger than mine, but I know how delicate they are. Being able to carve into one is great craftsmanship.
This is a very early Australian painting. The emu isn’t bad, but the kangaroos are a little chunky.
look at the next two pictures. I never knew this guy existed. Imagine if he had’ve lived? Maybe England wouldn’t have executed their king? It’s funny how history exists on the spin of a coin sometimes.
Poor thing.
Here’s his mum, Anne of Denmark. Notice her pearls. I’ll be referring to them a bit later on.
Mary I, ( Henry VIII’ daughter, also known as’Bloody Mary’ because she burnt a few Protestants at the stake) and her husband Phillip II of Spain.
Poor Mary led a thwarted life. Henry VIII has a lot to answer for when it comes to the women in his life.
Henry VIi , who defeated Richard II and ended the War of the Roses. He doesn’t look too happy about it. Below is his grandson Edward, Henry VIII’s long desired son. It’s sad to think that he died at 16, poor boy.
His big sister Elizabeth, looking regal. A guide here told us that Elizabeth had once had a miniature painted of her, and forever after, she insisted that anyone who painted her had to copy her face from that miniature.
It must’ve been like getting a great driver’s licence photo. You want to hang on to it forever.
Here he is. The man whose grave I’ll be standing on in 3 day’s time.
Charles I and his wife Henrietta Maria. He believed so strongly in the divine right of kings that he refused to compromise and move with the times. It ended up costing him his head.
Remember him. He comes up again a few days later.
And then I walked into a room the same as all the others… and there she was.
Queen Elizabeth I, after the English had kicked Spanish butts when they tried to invade. Remember the portrait of Mary I and her husband Phillip?
He was the one who tried to take England from Elizabeth. What an arse.
anyway, look at how she’s standing proudly. One hand is on a globe of the world, with her finger pointing to Virginia, the first colony in America and the first one named after her.
Her gown is embroidered with the sun and moon symbols. In medieval portraiture, the king is the sun and the queen the moon. She is stating that she embodies both.
the panels at the back show before and after pictures of the Spanish armada. Really rubbing it in.
and look at those pearls. Look familiar? Anne of Denmark has recycled them and worn them in a different way in her portrait.
I was a little bit happy. Here’s a few close-ups
Look at the pearls. They have an iridescence about them.
It’s also a statement of wealth. Pearls were horrendously expensive back then, as they had to be dived for and searched for. Therefore, having strings of matched pearls like this is a tremendous show of wealth.
And look at the feathers in this fan!
I was so happy to see this portrait. What a piece of history! She’s saying to the world, “ Phillip fucked around and found out. Don’t mess with me.”
I love it.
After that feast for the eyes, we sat in a shaded spot and ate the picnic Deana brought. Then it was a walk up a VERY steep hill to see The Royal Observatory. This is where the famous meridian line is located. Here I am doing the obligatory photo with one foot east and one west. It had Sydney, Canberra and Hobart, but no Melbourne.
We wandered around the cobbled courtyard and found ourselves at a little balcony overlooking the wonderful view we’d seen before. Then I saw a sign directing people to the Camera Obscura.
Obviously I couldn’t take a photo in the dark, but trust me – the picture that was projected down from the mirror in the chimney was a perfect representation of The Queen’s House. What made it even more memorable was that it wasn’t a static image, like a photograph. Every time a car went past, you could see it moving, which really brought home that we’re not just looking at a photograph, but we’re seeing the space in real time.
Remember the photo at the top of this post? Here’s the same view but from the hill at the Observatory. There’s the Queen’s House.
Next stop was a look through the house that a long succession of Head Guys of the Observatory lived. One poor woman had 9 kids on top of that hill in a house where all the rooms run into each other. At least the constant breeze up there meant that drying the washing would be… well, a breeze!
I took a snap of this dress. It belonged to the daughter of one of those guys and it’s so wonderfully Georgette Heyer.
The bottom part of the building was devoted to watches, clocks and the quest to find longitude. (Or is it latitude? I can never remember which.)
This sort of stuff didn’t grab me much, but I found this clock very interesting.
We discovered there was an easier way done, so we took it, ambling back down and talking all the way to The Cutty Sark.
This was really interesting. The Curry Sark was a clipper that was primarily used for delivering tea. She used to swing by Australia to pick up bales of wool. Considering the distances she travelled, she was small. The men who signed up to sail on her were clearly crazy.
As soon as I stepped into the ship, I could smell tea. Deana didn’t, until I mentioned it, but then again, she’s English. About three quarters of the liquid components in her body would be tea.
I liked this one- how a lot of guys took the opportunity to get a free trip to Australia!
This was on the deck near the steering wheel. I felt sorry for him.
After seeing all that there was to see on the ship, we settled down on a shaded part of the deck and had a good chat. We lost track of time and were interrupted by a member of staff who wanted to clear the ship before locking up.
We weren’t ready to call it a day, so Deana suggested that we find a pub with a garden. I have to say, that gin and tonic with lime went down a treat. It was growing dark when we parted.
I admit that the Underground bamboozled me towards the end of the journey, but I fell in with a really nice Canadian couple who were also looking for Aldgate East. We all made it home.
I’m so lucky. What a way to see out my 50’s! Thanks Deana.
I woke up bright and early and scampered downstairs for the first hotel breakfast of the holiday. Scrambled eggs, bacon, yoghurt, half, a bagel with jam, washed down with a black coffee.
Do I ever make cooked breakfasts at home? Never! But on holidays, they’re irresistible.
I’d prebooked my tickets for today a couple of weeks in advance, which I was thankful for when I heard people being turned away from the palace tour because they were all booked out.
The plan for today was as follows:
Get to the Victoria monument outside Buckingham Palace by 10:30 to secure a spot right in the middle. Stand at the front at all costs.
After the changing of the guard finishes, go to Green Park and eat.
At 12:45, the first tour starts.
At 2, the second tour starts. Set an alarm on the phone.
At 3:15, the final tour starts. Again – alarm.
It was an itinerary worthy of the master of itineraries himself, which is of course my friend Scott.
It’s a short walk from Victoria station to the palace, which I discovered on the way back. On this walk, Citymapper inexplicably led me down all sorts of streets, so in the end I followed the crowds and all was good.
I walked across the square to the Victoria monument, walked through the barricade gate and parked myself directly next to it at the front. Fortunate Frogdancer struck again, as they closed that gate about a minute after I passed through. Phew!!!
a few minutes later, a policeman was walking past and I asked him if I was in a good spot to see things. He smiled and said, “I’d say you’re in a very good spot, madam!”
It was a long wait in the sun. I was standing next to a very tall man from Massachusetts, and I discreetly used him for shade.
Then we saw these guys sneaking out from the back. The police started to urgently request that people stay off the road… we all knew that it was about to happen.
Then from far away, we heard music. Rousing marching music, heavy on the drum beats. Then, to my left, soldiers marching! Bright red coats! Straight into the left hand side gates and out of sight.
Well damn…
But I had faith in what the policeman said. After all, he called me “madam.” I’ve never been called that before in my life. It sounds so proper and… well…posh.
The band that led the soldiers in then gave a concert. They were behind the fence of the Palace, but we could see them. A couple of the songs they played were ‘Eleanor Rigby’ and ‘ Sweet Child of Mine.’ They were really good.
Then this happened:
And then this:
Yes, I know the horses are very close, but they were that close.
After the fun of the changing of the guard was done, I walked to Green Park to have lunch. Lunch actually consisted of two crushed snack bars that I’d brought from Australia and really needed to either eat or throw out.
Green Park is right beside Buckingham Palace. I sat on the grass under a tree, licking the crumbled mess from the packets of what remained of a couple of Carmen’s cranberry and oat bars after they’d been halfway around the world in a bag where a lot was crammed into.
It wasn’t the greatest lunch. In fact, it was pretty awful. But it was MY lunch, and here I was sitting in Green Park watching a couple of ponies walk around. This never happens at home. I was the happiest woman in the world.
The first tour- Georgian fashion.
I spent my teenage years reading the novels of Georgette Heyer. She wrote across a few different genres but she’s mostly known for her Regency romances. She’s a FAR better writer than the Bridgerton woman (ugh), and so I’ve always had a fondness for the Georgian era. This exhibition was ticking all the boxes.
Princess Sophia was like me – born as blind as a bat.
Unlike me, she didn’t have access to laser eye surgery, so she wore these very attractive glasses. She would have been described in Georgette Heyer novels as “ a good looking young woman, but with a squint.”
Queen Charlotte… yes, THE Queen Charlotte from the Netflix series!
This is from the description card:
Exceptionally time-consuming to make, fine lace lappets could be one of the most expensive elements of an outfit. The bobbin lace technique required the skilful management of multiple bobbins (sometimes up to 800 at a time) of bone or wood wrapped with linen thread. One full-time lacemaker working from 5am to 8pm might produce approximately half a metre per year. Sets of lace made by the same hand were most highly prized due to their uniformity. Lappets had passed out of fashion by the middle of the eighteenth century, but remained an obligatory component of court dress for many decades after.
You could fit a wide screen tv under that dress!
Here’s what Bonnie Prince Charlie looked like. It’s sad, seeing some of these portraits and knowing how their lives ended up. Speaking of which…
Marie Antoinette.
Then it was time for my tour of the Royal Mews.
I arrived just in time for the guided tour. I much prefer these to the Audio tours as you hear all of the stuff plus a little goss as well.
Apparently the word “mews” is originally associated with falcons. The Mews was where they were taken when they were moulting, or “mewling.” Overall er time, the royal horses were moved across to join them and ever since, the word “mews” has been associated with stabling horses.
We only saw 2 horses – the rest are out in the country having a break from work – but we were taken to see the carriages. I didn’t know that all of the royal vehicles are the same colour; even the helicopters. It’s a practical, serviceable colour. Not what I’d have chosen but then, I’m not qualified to choose.
The highlight was of course seeing the huge golden coach. It was massive! And when I say GOLD, I mean GOLD. Real gold.
It weighs 4 tons and it takes 8 horses to drive it.
Here’s a picture of the brakes.
It’s too big to get out of the doors, so when it’s needed for a coronation they dismantle one of the walls to manoeuvre it out.
When the queen was asked about her ride in it, she said that she felt seasick because it rocked all over the place like a ship in a rough sea.
The final tour was of the palace staterooms. No photos were allowed, and also no climbing, apparently.
This tour was full of art, impressive rooms and many pictures of Charles and Camilla. I saw her coronation dress. I glanced down at the hem, then looked again. Was… was that a dog’s head stitched in gold? Turns out she had her two dogs, plus the names of her children and grandchildren embroidered on the gown.
After the tour, I thought It’d try my luck again with the DevonshireTea thing. Ahhh, that’s the stuff! I knew my monarch wouldn’t let me down!
After a quick swing by the gift shop, where I bought a tin of shortbread which is too heavy to bring home (but not if the tin is empty) I began the long walk back to the city outside through the park at the back.
I was forging ahead, when I thought, ‘ What’s the hurry? When are you ever going to be here again?’ So at the next empty bench, I sat and gazed at the view in front of me.
it was a green lawn, ringed by trees. I sat, thinking over the day I’d had, when suddenly I saw a movement.
it was a squirrel! My first this trip. I watched, entranced, as it raced up a tree, so quickly, zigzagging it’s way to the top.
Then another! And another!
As oblivious weary tourists trudged their way toward the gate, I watched. The place was alive with them.
Long time readers would know that I’ve always wanted to go to England. I’ve always loved the history of the place and read everything I could about it. I planned my trip to the UK and Europe when I was 15, but due to being all-too-practical in my younger years … “!’ll finish my teaching degree and THEN I’ll go!” … and then life, babies and single parenthood… I eventually ended up going when I was 51. Talk about delayed gratification!
I had the trip of a lifetime. 9 weeks travelling around the UK and Europe, seeing all the main things I always wanted to see and denying myself NOTHING. I’ve never tatted up the cost of that trip. But however much it cost, it was worth every penny.
I never dreamed that it’d be 8 long years until I set foot here again, but I’m back:. It’s going to be a different sort of trip this time. Last time I was a very unseasoned traveller and my dear friend Scott planned every day for me. I wasn’t really aware of it at the time, but he was gradually educating me in how to travel; beginning by mansplaining everything ( thank god!) and sticking by my side, then gradually stepping back and letting me learn to navigate by myself around Pais for a day, then sending me off to Bath for 3 days on my own.
This time, after going to North Korea with friends and then Antarctica on my own, (where I met fantastic new friends), I planned the itinerary myself, with days by myself, a tour around Ireland for two weeks, all interspersed with catching up with people I’ve met on my travels. It’s going to be so much fun!
I jumped off the plane bright and early and 6 AM and after buying a sim at the airport, I took the tube to Kings Cross station. Honestly, this whole place is a big Monopoly game. My plan was to stow my carry-on suitcase for the day so that I could visit some museums, then pick it up and take a train to my hotel.
The man at the baggage check was very helpful. “Your day is going to be challenging,” he said. “Many tube lines are closed.”
He got out his phone and I told him whereI wanted to go. Fortunate Frogdancer picked places that were accessible by the Piccadilly line , which was open. Sadly, my hotel was not. I left that problem for Future Frogdancer to work out and I went on my way.
First stop was The Wallace Collection. Scott and I visited it back in 2015, when I was enraptured by seeing The Laughing Cavalier. I have a postcard of him on my fridge to this day.
Look at the lace on his cuffs! You’d swear it was a photo.
And look at his collar. Incredible. Legend has it that this is an engagement painting.
Another reason why I wanted to come back here was that they were hosting an exhibition of dogs. Naturally, this is right up my alley.
Here is my Thrill of the Day. ‘The Cavalier’s Pets’ by Landseer. I have had a print of this hanging in my house since before I was married. The boys have never known life without it being there. And now, casually hanging in a gallery- here it is.
I was so excited! It was huge! I stood there and beamed at it like I was meeting an old friend. It was a wonderful surprise.
Da Vinci, anyone? As in Leonardo. Are you kidding me?
I was excited to see this one because the tricolour Cavalier on the left is Dash- Queen Victoria’s beloved pet when she was young. After her coronation, she went home, took off all her regalia and gave Dash his bath.
Here’s a sketch she drew of her Daschund , Waldmann. She clearly had good taste in her dog breeds.
Read the panel next to the portrait. It’s an interesting story.
I took a photo of this pup, not from any artistic merit but because I was going to the Sir John Shane’s museum next, and here is a picture of the dog that he loved.
Then I wandered through the rest of the collection.
It’s amazing how really old and famous artists pop up as if out of nowhere. How about a Rembrandt?
A bust of Napoleon.
A young Josephine.
I wandered around for nearly 2 hours, then boldly headed off towards my next museum – The Sir John Soanes museum.
Where I found the same dog. But the dog isn’t the point of this museum.
I didn’t know anything much about Sir John Soanes, except that he was an architect and an avid collector of things. But everyone I spoke to said that it was a must see.
This house was incredible. It was designed purely to display his collection in the best light. And when I say light, I mean that he had hundreds of mirrors put in to bounce the light from the extra windows he’d built. I was there on a very bright day, but I could imagine that even on a dark, winery day, this house would be well lit.
At the end of his life he arranged with politician friends to have a law made to protect his collection by donating it to the nation. The reason he did this was a bit sad. He’d lost his wife and elder son, and his younger son was a spendthrift and wastrel who hated his father and his collection. Rather than have his son break apart the collection and sell it all off, this was his solution.
Lucky for us!
Apollo. Plus hundreds of other antiquities. Some real, some plaster casts. But they were everywhere. I was glad I had put my carryon in a locker and my handbag in the cloakroom. Imagine if you knocked one over!
He also bought a 3,000 year old sarcophagus. As you do. The bottom part of the house is like a crypt, with everything being about death. The light from the roof is designed to highlight it.
It has hieroglyphics outside…
… and in. The guy who discovered it in Egypt brought it back to England and tried to sell it to the British museum for £3000. This was too much for the museum, particularly after they’d just bought the Elgin Marbles from the Parthenon in Athens, and so he didn’t have a buyer. After he died, his widow dropped the price to £2000 and Sir John Soanes swooped. He knew it was there, he designed the space for it and he was waiting for the price to drop.
The whole place looks like this. No wonder he was devastated when his wife died. No other woman would have put up with this.
Imagine the dusting!
The Wallace Collection has a rule that nothing in the house can ever be removed. Sir John Sloane went one further and decreed that nothing in his collection could ever be MOVED. So we are seeing everything exactly as he wanted it to be seen.
Anyway, go and see it. It’s got far more than I’ve shown you.
Once finished here, I decided to take a walk to the Foundling hospital. This is a sad place. The guy who started it was a sea captain who arrived back in London one day and was horrified to see all of the abandoned babies left in the streets. This was in 1722, which wasn’t exactly known for its effective birth control and social safety net.
it took him SEVENTEEN YEARS before the king and other influential figures gave him the funding. You see, he wasn’t a gentleman…
There were so many women who couldn’t support their children that they had to run a ballot system to select which babies they’d take, and which wouldn’t be. It was said that there was just as much crying from those that were rejected as from those that were accepted. The mothers used to give tokens with their babies, so that if ever they were in a position to reclaim their child, they’d have a way to show that they were getting the right child.
Here are a few of the tokens up close:
Being a single mother myself, I can clearly imagine the distress and heartache these women would have felt, but at least this way they had hope that their child would have a better life. These tokens were so sad…
Here’s the room where all of the baby ballots happened. If theses walls could talk…
And a cruel reminder of how unequal society was, this (frankly, overdecorated) room was where the wealthy would come to shmooze and feel good about themselves and their financial donations.
if you’re a fan of Handel- come and see this place. He was a huge supporter of this place and the top floor has one of the best museums about him. Sadly, lost on me…
Then I was walking towards the last place on my list – The Charles Dickens museum.
This was a house that he and his family only lived in for a few years, and I noticed that a lot of the furniture and Knick-knacks were brought from the last house he lived in, but that’s ok I guess. At least they were all genuine Dickens memorabilia.
Here’s his desk. Just like when Deana and I saw Jane Austen’s writing table back in 2015, I had to touch it.
I even had the same ring on my finger!
I love how they’ve recycled this keystone into a decoration of the garden in the cafe. My feet were tired and I wanted to try a scone, jam and cream with REAL clotted cream. It’s been 8 long years…
It was ok… but they were a bit light on with the cream. It was just like normal whipped cream. This wasn’t the thing I’ve remembered fondly from 8 years ago! I walked back to Kings Cross station to pick up my case, feeling vaguely cheated.
What’s top of my mind:I’m not carrying teaching into my 60’s.
It appears that I made the decision without even realising it. On Monday I simply started telling kids and some teachers that I’m not planning on coming back. Once you tell people, it means that you’re locked into a decision.
At least, that’s how it works with me.
I was talking about it with the kids. David29 said, “Mum, you’ve got enough money. I don’t know why you’re still doing it. Just stop it!”
When I was with Evan26 and Jenna, Jenna said something that resonated in my head after she said it. “So, cool, you’re not carrying teaching into your 60’s. “
I LOVE the arbitrary line in the sand of that! I’ve been teaching in my 20’s, 30’s, 40’s and 50’s.
When you think of it like that… maybe it’s time to try something else. Like… say… total freedom over my time.
(I still haven’t let the Daily Organiser know. Maybe I’ll text her just before I jump on the plane.)
Where I’ve been:Racing around.
I leave in 3 days, so I’ve been Getting Things Done. One of those things was seeing Evan26, which is where I saw the lovely little house with the amazing window at the top of the page.
I’ve been to the chemist to get my throat medications for 5 weeks. Tomorrow I’m getting my haircut… You know, the list goes on.
Where I’m going:To see my American cousin.
My Dad’s sister married an American guy, back in the day, and so I have US cousins. My aunt moved back to Australia a couple of decades ago and lately, her son has been popping over to see her every couple of years or so. He’s absolutely lovely. This time, it’s my cousin Jennifer from LA.
I haven’t seen her since I was about 10 when their family came out to Australia to meet us. She’s flying into Melbourne 2 days before I leave, so hopefully her jetlag and my organisation about my trip will mean that we can meet up the day before I go.
What I’m reading:NOTHING.
Yeah, I know. Unprecedented.
I’ll be adding books to my iPad in the next couple of days to make sure I have things to read while I’m away. I got through 6 books ( I think) when I was in Antarctica.
What I’m watching:The Block.
Gutted that I won’t see Bathroom Reveal this week. Imagine the glut of episodes that I’ll have to watch when I get back!
I’ve added lots of daisies, lavender, kangaroo paws, and these protea-type flowers in the photo to my front garden. I’m hoping that Ryan28 will keep them alive, so by Christmas Day my garden will look FABULOUS.
What I’m listening to:Kids pretending to work.
This class I’m in front of is doing a catch-up lesson on their major assignment that we’ve been working on for the last month. Some groups are finished and, after checking what they’ve done against the rubric to make sure that they’ll get top marks, now have free time. Other groups are grimly plugging away at sections they’ve neglected.
I kept telling them to look after “Future Them” when they were lazing around. Some people just have to learn by hard experience.
What I’m eating:Leftovers from the roast lamb we had the other night.
YUM.
What I’m planning: Where to dump my suitcase on the first day in London.
I’ve paid for an early check-in at 12 PM, but I arrive in London at around 6 AM. It’ll cut the day in half if I’m schlepping over to the hotel in the middle of the day. I want to be out and about seeing things! I’m not sure whether to see if they’ll stow my bag away for me, or if I’ll locate a station with lockers and stash my bag somewhere central for the day.
To avoid jetlag, I’ll have to keep galloping all over the place. By the time it got to mid-afternoon last time, jetlag was starting to hit me hard. By 6:30, over dinner, I fell asleep and woke up literally one inch from faceplanting into my food. I had Scott there to keep me awake last time. This time it’ll be just me.
Who needs a thumbs up:The nice chemist with the melatonin tablets.
I’m hoping that a combo of drowsy anti-histamines and melatonin on the plane will help me adjust to the local time much easier than in 2015.
What has made me smile:
I took this photo of the boronia that I bought when I was at the nursery last week. I’ve tried a couple of times to grow them, but they’re notoriously finicky and they died both times. I love their scent though.
When I was buying colour for my front yard, I saw a worker putting out heaps of these on display and I mentioned my murderous past to her.
“I used to be exactly the same, but then I changed how I looked at them,” she said. “I look on the m as an annual. I keep one in the kitchen every year, where I can smell it first thing every day when I get up. When it gets sick, I put it in the compost and buy another one the next year. It works out far cheaper than buying cut flowers.”
So I’m giving it a go. I hope Ryan28 keeps it alive until I get back, because the smell is divine.
Last week I knocked back a day of teaching to have lunch with an old friend. I’ve known Max since Evan26 was Evan2. Back in those days I was struggling to keep my head above water financially, while Max was single, with only one son who lived primarily with his mother. In other words, his paycheque was his own to do with as he would.
Max likes to socialise by going out for meals, so back in those days he’d sweep me off for dinner every now and then and I’d have the (rare to me) pleasure of eating a meal not cooked for the tastebuds of toddlers. Our lives have always been very different.
Max is really into Eastern religion, meditation and yoga. He travels widely, usually to sunny, warm places where he can soak up the sun and relax. It seemed to me that he was out and about nearly every day of the week, going to parties, dinners and lunches, which was a vast contrast to my life of being stuck at home with my 4 small boys all the time. Delayed gratification was never a thing he was a fan of, whereas to me, it was all I had to hope for.
Fast forward twenty-five years.
The four kids I was raising on my own are now off my hands, (pretty much.) All of them are living productive, creative lives and two are settled with long-term partners. I’ve reached financial independence and now, after decades of being tied to staying at home with the family while they were young, I’m now finally free to travel and spend my days how I choose.
I’m happy. I’m turning 60 next week and I’m looking forward to the next delicious stage of my life.
Max has now retired at 69 years of age. He’s on the Aged pension, living in a unit he’s paying off. He lives with his son, who is now 40 and is a recovering heroin addict. Max would love to sell or rent out his unit and live overseas in a warm climate, living off the proceeds of the sale or rent. However, he’s stuck, because his son has nowhere else to go because he’s unable to work.
Max has chosen to remain pretty much computer-illiterate. This has left him as an easy mark, which some woman found out when she scammed him out of 16K recently over the phone. Why does this happen to people who can least afford it?
He knows that he’s left it very late to improve his finances and he’s flailing around, trying to put things in place to produce an income for the future.
He put a few grand into cryptocurrency, which of course he doesn’t understand.
He’s excited about the 20% per MONTH returns that he’s been promised. I asked him if he personally had seen returns like this. The night before we met for lunch, he received his first dividend payment, so he thought, “Oh, this works,” so he put in another 10K. I thought, ‘Isn’t this a classic way they reel people in?‘ He said that the woman he works through has just under 1 Billion US dollars that she’s looking after. I thought, ‘If that’s true, why would she be interested in your piddly 10K???”
He also paid 5K to do a course in currency trading, which after he joined he realised happens on computers, which he hates and has no idea how to start using, so he’s letting a friend do the coursework. They plan to split any profits the friend ends up making.
He’s fearful of the future and is clearly envious of what has happened in my life. There were a few remarks here and there with references to investments etc. that made me feel a bit uncomfortable.He sounded almost bitter at times about how his life is looking, especially compared to mine.
It’s as if someone has flipped the coin of our lives and we’ve swapped sides.
“You’ve done really well, Frogdancer,” he said as we were eating. “You don’t have to work and … you’ve got excellent karma. You deserve it all. But… (he sighed), I’m not happy. I feel like I’m trapped and I wish… I wish I’d done things differently.”
I was telling this to Ryan28 when I got home. He’s picked up my frugal, valuist ways and he was nodding sagely. Then I asked him a question:
“If Max and I had each died at say… 45, who would you say had the better life?”
“Huh,” Ryan28 said, struck. He thought for a second, then said, “Max. He would have had the better life.”
“Exactly,” I said. “The whole thing’s a gamble. If we were able to know how long we’ve got, we could plan things out. But obviously, it doesn’t work that way. He enjoyed life when he was younger, whereas I’m enjoying it more as I’m older. It’s that whole Grasshopper and the Ant fable.
“The ant is busy putting things in place for the future, while the grasshopper just mucks around, enjoying the present. It’s all wonderful for the ant if he lives long enough to enjoy the wintertime when he can enjoy the fruits of his labour. But what if he gets stepped on and squashed just before winter hits? He’s toiled his whole life for no reward. Whereas, the grasshopper may starve to death in winter, but he’s had one hell of a happy life up until then. It all depends on how long you live.”
“I guess it’s all about balance,” said Ryan28. “Working the future but doing fun things now.”
I thought it was an important thing for Ryan28 to think about. He and I are probably too much inclined to practice delayed gratification. I want him to live his life while he’s young! (To be fair, so far it’s worked bloody brilliantly for me, but that’s not a guaranteed outcome for everyone.)
Getting back to when we were sitting at lunch, Max looked so defeated and sad. I leaned forward and said, “Yes, I’m in a really good spot right now. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned: it’s that life is a series of waves. You’re up and everything is going fine; then something happens and you’re sliding down.
“At the moment, I’m up and you’re down. But something will happen, either to me or the kids, and I’ll slide down that curve. You’re down, but something will happen and you’ll be on the upward swing again. I’m really conscious of that, so when I’m in a good spot, like now, I consciously enjoy it. because I know that it’s not going to last. I may as well enjoy it while I can!”
This appealed to Max and he brightened up and started talking about how Eckhart Tolle talks about similar ideas. I haven’t read any Tolle but Max is right into it. This put him in a better frame of mind and we chatted happily until he dropped me back at home.
I found it an interesting thought experiment. We in the FI/RE community are so good at delayed gratification. I think I’m the Queen of it, myself! And it’s mostly a very good thing. However, changing one thing that we all have no control over and looking at life through a different lens… sometimes a bit of immediate gratification along the way might also be a very good thing.
We only have “one wild and precious life.” We have to make choices based around immovable things that we have no control over. Due to my situation with raising 4 boys on my own, I was relentless about working for the future to provide the financial security for my family that we didn’t have. I had to consciously teach myself how to stop and smell the roses and enjoy the little things in life as they happen. I envy the people who seem to be born with a foot in both camps.
So who has lived the better life? As Ryan28 said, if you look at the early part of our lives, Max definitely comes out on top. I hope and believe that, when we look at our lives through the lens of another couple of decades of living, that we’ll both be happy with the paths we’ve taken.
***
Here is the poem that I found that quote from, in the paragraph above. I love it:
THE SUMMER DAY by Mary Oliver.
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean–
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down —
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields
Retirement Reading Quest – Reading my way to ‘free’ council rates.
I’m on a quest to borrow and read enough books to, in effect, cancel out the cost of my council rates per year.
It’s outlined in this post.
Year 7: I’m already a year ahead on my rates, so I’m taking a reader’s suggestion and I’m going to go back and start covering the rates from the year before I started. I may as well.
Year 7: Total needed: 2019/2020…$1,800
Running total: $
Year 6 (2025/2026) $2,590 AREADY COVERED!!!!!!
10/08/2015 – I won’t have another rates notice until August 2026, so I have time to kill. Let’s knock over a previous year’s rates, just for fun.
Year 5 (2024/2025) $2,339 and dog rego ($63) = $2,435.
Finished it before I even had the new rates notice ready.
Year 4 (2023/2024) $2,413.
Success! Not sure exactly when I passed the total, because I was waiting on the dog registrations to come through. But yes – I blitzed it.
Year 3: (2022/2023) $2,350
12/01/2023 FINISHED! Not working gives me heaps more reading time – I recommend it!
