Category Archives: Travel

Finland….July 2016

London had been a whirlwind, Berlin the continuation of an affair with the city. Then Helsinki? Finland? – calm, dignified, pleasant – occasionally bland? When I read this blog back it isn’t the normal easy informative, sometimes wry tale of my observations and experiences. This is more a recording of information, more lecture notes.

I suspect though that this is a city that would grow on one – with its human scale streetscape, wide streets, quiet buskers, fine design and steeped in a musical culture.

It may be that my responses were simply a counterpoint to the high of the previous fortnight, especially since I was now travelling with strangers.

I joined a small group tour in Helsinki – ah! group travel! I haven’t done much, mostly with the university to exotic places (Timbuktu, Libya, Syria). Group experiences themselves deserve at least a blog. Your instincts are constrained, your time pre-determined, the schedule rapid, the path pre-trodden, control out of your hands — a tourist not a traveller. Cocooned in a new world.

Luckily the group leader was not just charming but also erudite, learned and engaging.

History in a nutshell

To start understanding Finland (as much as one can do on a whistle stop, roller coaster tour) the briefest contextual setting is necessary. First it is a surprise that the official languages are both Swedish and Finnish although Finns comprise 93% of the population and Swedes only 6%. History explains that.

Although people have lived in Finland for 9000 years, the Swedes controlled the country from early in the 14th century until the beginning of the 19th century when Russia took over and Finland became the Russian Grand Duchy of Finland.

Finnish is a language with links to Hungarian and a smaller family of northern languages unrelated to Scandinavian ones. It was not written until the mid 16th century when Bishop Agricola translated the New Testament

The Russians granted increased power to the Finnish parliament in 1869 and the use of the Finnish language spread. However, by the beginning of the 20th century, programs of Russification were widespread. Finland finally became independent in 1917. Russia invaded in 1939 and finally Finland agreed an alliance with Germany. Consequently Finland ceded Karelia, 10% of its land, to the Russians

In 1995 Finland joined the EU and later adopted the euro. Imagine being a country of 5.4 million people living next door to a belligerent neighbour of 300 mill. Potential retaliation may well be why Finland does not upgrade its partnership agreement with NATO to full membership.

Here endeth the history lesson. I mention the history because its stages are written in the architecture of the city.

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The first sign to greet you in Helsinki airport is this one; a reminder that many months of the year are very cold and very dark when a warming wine might be welcome.

Street life in the city

People play:

 

People pray:

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People enjoy street art and sculpture:

People busk:

and pigeons enjoy statues

Helsinki – The Architecture

A city the size of Helsinki, 560,000, evokes thoughts of large provincial Middle European centres big enough for some signature architecture.

 

Neo-Classicism

Sitting high above much of the city centre is the main Evangelic Lutheran Cathedral, a symbol of Helsinki. It was designed by a Berliner, Carl Ludwig Engel in the 19th century (completed in 1852) as part of the Empire-style-downtown Helsinki area.

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Below is Senate Square framed with buildings in the Empirical Grand Classical style. The pale yellow buildings also designed by Carl Ludwig Engel dominate it. He was the architect of much of the Square including the Government Palace, the National Library and the main buildings of the University of Helsinki.

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Russian Architecture

Completed in 1868 the Uspenski Cathedral is the largest orthodox church in Western Europe. With its golden cupolas and redbrick facade, the church is one of the clearest symbols of the Russian impact on Finnish history.

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Art Nouveau

Art nouveau architecture was interpreted in Finland as its own form of National Romanticism.

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Some of the finest art nouveau examples include Saarinen’s Central Railway Station (1914).

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The Aschan Café has some splendid nouveau features.

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Modernism

The Helsink University Library,whilst it has an interesting exterior is more interesting because of what it shows about modern Finnish architecture. It is built to maximise internal light and the fittings, as are those of a nearby supermarket, are made of beautifully turned and pleasing wooden shelves – not our ugly tin shelving. Indeed the Finnish reputation for good design shows in the details of so many of the buit interiors.

 

 

Other fine pieces of architecture we whistle stopped through were both in central Helsinki, the Church in the Rock, literally that, and the  Chapel of Silence in one of the city’s busiest squares.

 

At the  Seurasaari Island open air museum old buildings have been relocated here to show how people sued to live in previous centuries.

 

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It’s summer in Finland so this chap out walking to the island was wearing appropriate shades

Music and education

Every town of 35,000 inFinland has its own orchestra; there are dedicated music high schools and music is part of the curriculum in ordinary schools. This is a meritocratic society where teachers need a Masters degree and belong to a highly regarded profession. It is an egalitarian system with few private schools and no streaming for brighter children. Physics, chemistry and maths are compulsory,

 We were told a few times that Finland honours its heroes and those heroes are its artists and intellectuals. (Perhaps a long cold winter sets the scene for creativity.)

Sibelius

Perhaps the most famous Finn of all is the great composer Jean Sibelius b. 1865. he went to the first Finnish speaking school, established in 1863 byTzar Alexander. A visit to his home and an insight into his life is a centrepiece of a visit to Finland.

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Sibelius and his wife Aino lived the 65 years of their married life at Villa Ainola part of the artists’ colony near Lake Tuusula.

Sibelius would wander in the countryside around his home and take inspiration from the landscape; he would compose work in his head and then return home and put it to paper. It is said Aino would be relieved to hear the sound of his working as she could sleep then knowing his creative struggle was resolved.

As he lay dying his music was played on national radio and filled the air of the villa.

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A rose from the Sibeleus’ garden

 

Alvar Aalto

Aalto designed a number of public buildings in Helsinki, the most notable being the while tiled Finlandia Hall, a palace of culture, now managed in a private/public partnership. The white tiling is evocative of the Sydney Opera House, not surprising as it the latter was designed by a fellow northerner, the Danish Jorn Utzon

We visited the home of, and homes designed by, Aalto. Mention has to be made of his wife, another architect, who kept the show on the road after his death.

Aino and Alvar Aalto’s home was completed in 1936. In this as in their other works, the young architects combined the modern and traditional. Furniture designed by the Aaltos won international acclaim by the early 1930s, and their home is furnished with their own designs. Pieces by well known artists such as Le Corbusier and Alexander Calder were part of their environment.

Below are views of the house from the back, the view of the garden and the light shades designed by the AAltos.

 

On the fringes of the city we visited another Aalto house, which was quite an experience. The Villa Kokkonen´s atelier was designed for music, commissioned as it was by Kokkonen, a composer. The host and hostess, pianist Elina and opera singer Antti, have taken over the house to lovingly restore it. Their tour exists of a meticulaous recital of restoration details by the excitable Antti, a splendid lunch prepared by Elina and then a musical interlude by both.

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A break from buildings —Day Lilies from the garden of Villa Kokkonen

 

Another visit to a Finnish villa took us to the Didrichsen Art Museum. Once the home of private collectors, it now shows both Finnish and international art.

Below area 1964 Picasso and a Henry Moore sculpture which sits in the garden.

 

Within the famous artists’ colony of Tuusula, stands the home of Pekka Halonen one of the most beloved artists of the ‘Golden Era’ of Finnish art. He like Sibelius,took inspiration from the landscape and painted both nature and people.

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At the end go the 1880’s many of the leading artists of Finland built wilderness ateliers in the ideal landscape of the national romantic period. The fringes of Lake Tuusula provided such an environment as the pictures  below of the lake today show.

 

Meanwhile back in Helsinki, I cannot leave this blog without mentioning my favourite works in the the Ateneum at Railway Square part of the Finnish  National Gallery collection……

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An amazing face on the “selfie’s wall”

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Gallen -Kallela  painted Lemminkainen’s Mother as part of his Kalevala themed works. This is a mother and son story about the death of a warrior

 

And for light relief, the Kaarina Kaikkonen  used shirt installation in the courtyard,

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Next we headed to Savonlinna for some music. It is worth noting that music plays a central part in the education system of Finland; some lower schools are music based while there are a number of music high schools

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After a train ride north through the interminable pine forests, we arrived at Savonlinna, closer to Russia than to Helsinki – 350k to St Petersburg. Here in the world’s furthest castle in the north built around 1475, the annual music festival was happening.

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The first night Riccardo Muti  conducted the orchestra he founded, the Luigi Cherubini Youth Orchestra performing  Beethoven’s Fifth; next night Don Giovanni was the offering.

I was entranced by the symphony and understood perhaps for the first time how a great conductor can create wonderful music from what is perhaps not a world-class orchestra.

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The second night I left the Opera Festival Choir and Orchestra performance of Don Giovanni at interval. Perhaps it was the closeness of the air inside the castle..

And finally this little duck left Finland…..

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and yes…I did eat reindeer…dear me..goodness… Rudolph?

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Berlin again…3 days in July 2016

Whoo hoo, first the Eurostar. Eight hours from London to Berlin with quick changes at Brussels and Cologne. Everything about it, the efficiency, the quality of the trains, the comfort puts the public transport system in my country to shame.

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Cathedral, Cologne through the fretwork of the railway station

The tunnel passed in a flash and the only discordant note was the barbed wire along the tracks posing yet another barrier to add grief to the trials of  asylum seekers. Beyond the wire, the French fields were their usual precise soothing patchwork of green and ochre.

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Barbed wire along the line at Calais

How could I go to Europe and not drop into my current favourite city? I first visited 2 years ago (see 8 blogs from 2014) and fell in love with the vitality, the sensitive presentation of history, the architecture…..I wanted to test the impressions of that 2 weeks. Back to the same apartment at Hackescher Markt, I find I am beginning to know my way around the bigger city. Part of the pleasure of Berlin is that it is so accessible.

Why am I so taken with this world city?

  • is it in my DNA? – I do have same  Prussian blood
  • is it the architecture old and new?
  • is it the honest way the city presents its 20th century history?
  • is it the preservation of the Prussian architecture?
  • is it the vitality of the streets?
  • is it the proliferation of cultural opportunities?
  • is it the constant opportunity for street photography?

As a refresher I take the general intro Berlin Walk; the guide gives me new information. He claims that in the past 5 years rents have gone up 65% and house prices doubled. No surprise then that while I was there, residents held a robust demonstration against the gentrification of the city.

Hopefully Berlin will not be a casualty of its own success. Forty thousand people are moving here each year and no wonder. There are 450 publicly funded/subsidised art galleries and museums. 3 opera companies and 6 world class orchestras. Before I wax too lyrical I also have to mention that there were 40,000 instances of pickpocketing reported to the police last year.

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On the way out Saturday night, lots of Goths gathered with their Rottweilers in the park next to the Cathedral

Saturday night I went to the Karl Schinkel designed neo-classical Konzerthaus which was opened in 1821. Its own in-house orchestra preformed Dvorak, Schhostakowitsch and Schumann with guest violinist Julian Rachlin. On the way I detoured around the free open air concert  on a closed Unter den Linden outside the Humboldt University where Daniel Baremboim was conducting the state orchestra. Music in the air, Berlin flowers. I am reminded that 29 Nobel Prize winners studied at this university; Einstein worked and Marx studied here too.

 

The next day all Berlin seemed to be at the flea market in Mauer Park.

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This man describes himself as a performance artist and has a ‘peace’ homily sitting in the sand.

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They say you can put lipstick on a pig but it will still be a pig. what about on a Mauer park bear?

After the market I spend a few hours wandering the streets of Prenzlauer Berg before walking back to Mitte ending with a flop on the deck chairs alongside the Spree contemplating the Dom, still stained black from the fires caused by Allied bombing. I was surprised to be told (by a Scot) that 80% of British bombs didn’t get within 5 miles of their target.

Later I put the skates on to re-visit the architecture of Potsdammer Platz and run accr0ss a #BlackLivesMatter demonstration. I am again reminded of the cultural mix of  young Berlin seeing so many African Americans read the roll call of those who have died by violence and police shooting in the USA.

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Lying down in remembrance of the dead.

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What a contrast to the people demonstrating — these upper class pretenders were meeting next to the demo and paying it no attention

Being so close I slip in a visit to Martin Gropious House which I had missed last time and see an exhibition of photographs by Bernice Abbott who started as Man Ray’s assistant before becoming famous herself. Her most known photos are the New York black and white streetscapes and portraits of people such as Jean Cocteau, James Joyce and Sylvia Beech. Then it’s a beer under the wondrous roof of the always lively Sony Centre.

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I did catch up with other architecture that also inspires me

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I M Pei’s addition to the Museum of Berlin

Again I ask myself in what other city would so many experiences fall into my path.

On my last day in Berlin I have the roller skates on. Back to walk the shopping stretch of Kurfürstendamm before lunch at the biggest store in Europe, the smart KaDeWe. Like Fortnum and Mason the food floor seems to have dumbed down a  little since my visit 2 years ago.

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The cake display remaind inviting

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For the person who has everything – a golden hose!

 

Nearby outside the S Bahn station there is an evocative list of the concentration camps trains left for, from here.

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Not far away there is a sculpture. The words etched on the back say:

Remember: when injustices take place, when people are discriminated against and persecuted – never remain indifferent. Indifference kills.

These are words my own country with its disgraceful offshore detention centres for asylum seekers, would do well to take to heart.

The plaque besides the sculpture says:

A cynical lie: the inscription above the main gate to Auschwitz 1 concentration camp: ARBEIT MACHT FREI (work makes you free). When the SS ordered them to make this sign, the prisoners hid their message in the word ARBEIT. They turned the letter B upside down. It signalled their courage, their will to overcome the paralysing fear and later be able to tell the world what happened in Auschwiitz.

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Then it’s off to Tempelhof Airport, the iconic site of the airlifts during the cold war and now just acres of dry rough grass which reputedly comes alive with local recreational use and concerts.

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Since Berlin is enlightened enough to ban shopping on Sundays, I finish  Monday with a visit to the courtyards of Hackescher Hof, once a centre of German Jewry and marked outside by the bronze plaques with names of Jews who were murdered by the Nazis. (It is worth noting that there were 5 million non-Jewish victims of the holocaus.

Now the Hof is a retail/bar complex and houses my favourite shop for presents of schmick acrylic art jewellery.

One of my best memories of Berlin is the vitality of the street:

the tourists who use bicycles tours, Segway tours, walking tours ,

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the ever new graffiti

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the people

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the buskers

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These guys ride the U bahn dodging the transport authority and bringing joy to passenger (me at least).

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Playing Vivaldi’s Four Seasons

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There are a few practitioners of the 3 card trick trying to earn a buck in the street. They are wary of police and of photographers.

For the first time in Berlin, in Alexanderplatz, I noticed the homeless people. Why wouldn’t I?  They are in every major city in the world. I hesitated about putting the following photos in, out of respect for them, but really we all need to be confronted with the underside as well as the beauty and fun, so that we are reminded of the real issues that face all of us.

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Berlin has so many experiences. I still regret I didn’t have time  to visit again the amazing Ishtar Gate on Museum Island or to wander the private galleries around Auguststrasse.

I did however see again the murals painted during the cold war on the wall of what was once Goering’s Luftwaffe Building, then the Communist party HQ and now ironically the German Finance Ministry (tax office too!).

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And one can never go to Berlin with the obligatory dues being paid to the Brandenburg Gate. This time with an anti-Brexit demo. in front.

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That night I had truely global dinner. Around the corner from the Adina at Hackescher Markt where I stay, there is a new Japanese restaurant. The trouble was that the menu for the Japanese dishes was written in German. I was reduced to pointing to an unknown fellow diner’s dinner and  saying in the famed words of Sleepless in Seattle “I’ll have what she’s having”.

Next morning after good coffee and a croissant at my now fav.and cheap Berlin cafe on the square behind the apartment, it is time to go. Again I believe I have left much undone, especially when it comes to understanding the architectural layers of the city.

So what is the take home message for me? Berlin accessible and now familiar, still has its great world city ambience. A kaleidoscope of colourful and cultural experiences. But I don’t know whether a 3 day or a 2 week visit is what I want anymore. To really know this city, not just sample its complex delights one would need to live her for a while. I wish I could

 

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London…. a whirlwind week 2016

People are amused when I fly posh to London and then take the long underground ride to the centre with all my (overly cumbersome) luggage. What better way to enter this huge metropolis of 8.7 million, to experience its passing parade, the tide of humanity, than on a packed peak hour tube?

On one side, a young woman is reading Facebook in Polish, on the other a screen of Chinese catches the corner of my eye. These are the multi-cultured tired and the weary travelling from the outskirts on the Piccadilly line on a Thursday evening. (Mid-morning Monday the tube has a different profile from Paddington back to Bloomsbury, more polished, affluent, possible Tory voters.)

Since every shop, hotel, restaurant I visit is staffed by people from outside Great Britain, you have to wonder if the retail and service industries will simply implode if Brexit is carried to its extremes as some wish.

After a quick re-group I visit the somewhat disappointing John Sloane museum on Lincoln’s Inn Green. I find it claustrophobic and the Roman pieces badly curated; the Hogaths and the Canalettos were a pleasure though. After a quick visit to the British Museum’s Exhibition Room, I left  – the crowds were stifling.

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The discus thrower of Myron was a Greek sculpture but this, in the British Museum, is a Roman copy found in the villa of the Emperor Hadrian

 

Extended family

The 4pm to Bristol on Saturday was spent trying to follow the Oz elections on wifi courtesy of western rail though no result would be known for more than a week. Sunday saw a more than generous lunch catching up with 14 of the extended Bristol family, a pleasure to see  the young ones had grown into fine young people since my last visit 5 years ago.

Back to London Monday morning. I lunch at Fortnum and Mason on a sardine pancetta salad. I first visited here wide-eyed in the 70’s and  am underwhelmed this time. Perhaps the sophistication of food in Oz or perhaps the economic contingencies of the modern world…but this place has shrunk. The once glorious variety of delicacies seems to have been replaced by pre-packaged food. And the great indicator – the coffee –  was not as good as the cup my local serves at home.

Indeed the coffee in London (except in Store Street) was definitely not up to scratch. Next to my hotel in the grounds of St George’s Church Bloomsbury (designed by Nicholas Hawksmoor), I found a passable brew in a small pop-up but wondered that that they have the gall to charge nearly $5 a cup.

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In a big city, the skirt of an historic church makes a fine coffee spot

Out and about

A visit to the Wallace collection becomes  an odyssey as the teachers are demonstrating and the buses down Oxford Street have been stopped, so I walk from Bloomsbury to Marylebone detouring to Bond Street and a schmick gallery. Left me cold.

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Buskers always brighten up the day

Then a sentimental visit up river all the better to see the distinctive glass boxes both sides of the river near Tower Bridge.

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The Shard (the salt cellar) from the river; then in the city there is the Gherkin, the Walkie Talkie and the Cheese Grater. Londoners seem to have a decidedly domestic set of nicknames for the city’s status symbols

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For those of us from countries blessed with sun surf and sand, the annual “beachification” of the Thames is pretty funny.

A special time

One highlight of the trip and one of life’s unexpected small gifts…… I wandered into St Paul’s Cathedral. By chance it was time for Evensong . I was ushered into the choir stalls. The famous St Paul’s choir sang. Their voices soared into Christopher Wren’s ceiling and the purity of sound filled my head. Joy.

My old, dear and now dead friend, Dick Hall urged me to walk walk walk and look up when visiting a new city and I’ve always followed his advice. The street snapshot can give a clue as to the nature and energy of a place.

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London is full of echoes of another time.

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A fine snapshot and a great human moment…outside the Holborn tube. A sharp looking man is holding his phone to the ear of a homeless man playing him some music.

 

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Posh wedding photos being posed in a garden in a ruin in the City.

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This duck doesn’t give a damn about the city folks having themselves a fine lunch. Last time I was in London, a dingo walked down the street near Westminister; today I see a duck.

In London the tube also gives me much stimulation, not just people watching but the huge satisfaction in conquering it. The underground is like a complex 3 dimensional, often overwhelming, strategic game. This day there is a sign saying the temperature is 21 degrees and if you are “suffering from heat let someone know”. They have to be kidding! (Today in winter in Oz it is 24 degrees).

Wimbledon at last

Sunny though at Wimbledon. It’s a tick off the bucket list when I enjoy the famed strawberries and cream and score a seat at the men’s quarter finals.. not the big one between Murray and Tsonga but just as much fun, Berdych beats Pouille in 3. Besides who can resist an event that produces a 29 page booklet titled A Guide to Queueing?

 

Friends and paintings

Our friend Abi is a gracious London host. We have a few meals, see The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night at the Gielgud Theatre and spend my last day in London in a  feast/frenzy of art – the National Portrait Gallery for the Annual Portrait Prize, the Courtauld where I saw my favourite Modigliani and the new wing at the Tate Modern where I have no time for the paintings but enjoy lunch in the new restaurant with its terrific London views. Thanks too,  to Abi for the detailed tour of St Pancras station.

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Here’s the new wing of Tate Modern. Not a fan; to me it looks like powerhouse architecture

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Abi and the b0ab tree – a scene from her past.

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The Meeting Place sculptured by Paul Day at St Pancras Station. Are they meeting or saying farewell?

 

Last night in London I catch up with my old mate Jo the CEO  who is ever soaring to new career heights in this big metropolis. We eat at the Holborn Dining Room and knock off a good bottle of red as well as….

A great city, so much to see and do, such business, some memories.…..

 

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Forty years ago my friend Dick and I had out photo taken standing thus in Trafalgar Square but that time before a statue of Cardinal Newman. This photo is in memory of Dick, a lion of a man!!

 

POST SCRIPT – three weeks later

On the way back from the Arctic, I spend a few more nights – this time out near Heathrow. On the Sunday I make my first ever trip to Windsor. The bus to Slough is a League of nations and the train to windsor packed with Chinese tourists. Perhaps it is because it is high summer but the crowds are fearsome and the queue for the Castle daunting so I put it off until late afternoon bring just a trickle of tourists.

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Reminded of my uni days when there was a rude sone about the “walls of Windsor castle”

The town is clearly “quaint” but still charming

 

 

I wander round this cutesy tourist town, past the restaurant/hotel of a famous chef who is smartly cashing in, and find some calm down the hill on the massive playing fields of Eton. I spend some time wandering the outskirts of that famed institution and contemplate the privileged people who have been schooled here, a metaphor for the inequality in the world.

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Eton – privilege at its beat.

When I finally get into the castle, the one surprise is the art work. Here for example is a Bruegel, there a Canaletto. The ceiling of the reception room is inlaid with gold worth Aus $40,000. The Royal collection has more than 30,000 pieces. I am not a Royalist and I see these riches as being held in trust for the nation.

Time to fly home!

 

 

 

 

 

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