In the Bundestag

We’d tried to book a visit to the Bundestag when we arrived but were unsuccessful; there was no availability until next weekend.  We felt cross that we hadn’t thought ahead, but the concierge in our hotel had an idea – he’d book us a table for dinner!

So this evening, we set out in drizzly rain and found ourselves in front of the Brandenburgertor with hardly any traffic.  Picture time!

Just to our left, outside the French Embassy lay hundreds of flowers and candles.  Another sad reminder of events in Paris the weekend before last.

By the time we reached the Bundestag, the rain was falling heavily and though that looks like a lovely moon in the photo, it’s actually a raindrop (or two…)

Through security and up in the lift, we dodged the rain a couple more times as we scuttled across the roof to the restaurant entrance.

We had a beautiful window table with a fine view of the city – though as we noted, looking east there’s not much of a skyline, although the TV tower at Alexanderplatz kept coming into view and disappearing again as the clouds came down during the evening.

The food was delicious, although we’d both choose somewhere offering more hearty fare normally.  In particular, my pudding was quite cute I thought – a hazelnut parfait wearing a spiced prune beret with winter spiced biscuits and tiny plums.  As yummy as it looks, believe me!

Before leaving, we walked up to the top of the dome and down again, getting dripped on from time to time because it was still pouring with rain outside.

A fine view of the cabinet meeting rooms from here, too.  Don’t you love the transparency of government here?

No—one sitting at this time of night, of course.

With a last look through the “ja”, “nein” and “enthaltung” division doors, we went out into the rain and back to the S bahn.

Fingers crossed, the weather front will have passed through by morning.

Here and there

The decisions of the judging in September were announced at the UK Bus Awards ceremony on Tuesday and so we found ourselves in a rather posh popup venue on the South Bank amongst old friends.

Though it was a lunchtime affair, you’d never have guessed for there were twinkly “stars” shining overhead and the lighting was – ermmm – interesting! 

By the time we left, it was already dark even though it was only late afternoon and walking back over the bridge we reflected on what a great city it is!

We decided to stay over and made plans for the evening, amending them when events took an unexpected turn.  Still, it means we’ll just have to do it all again when everyone is fighting fit again, won’t we?

We enjoyed a walk through Horseguards to Roux at Parliament Square, then, noting the almost-permanent traffic jam along the approach to Westminster.  Driving here must need such patience.

We walked back along Whitehall, paying particular notice to the Women’s war memorial, adorned with knitted poppies and small tributes from WI members amongst others.

Yesterday morning, we were up and about to find the new location for the Georg Jensen shop, no longer in Bond Street.  We soon found ourselves in an unfamiliar corner of the city, quite a haven of peace even though it was a mere step away from the bustle of Piccadilly.  Here in Mount Street, Mayfair, we enjoyed a quiet stroll around until the magic opening hour of 10am!

I loved the Christmas decorations outside this estate agent’s in Mount Street.

This cute car version of our favourite Brio railway made an interesting shop window too.

Next door was a rather more traditional display.

And there, in between two shops lay a small pocket of green: Mount Street Gardens.  I can see why this is a choice place to live!!

Across the park though, I spotted somewhere we had been before – this was not altogether new ground, then, because a few years ago, Edward had sung in that little church which is actually on South Audley Street.  I had got my bearings again.

Georg Jensen found, then, decisions made (but no transactions completed!) we made our way back to Selfridges and more familiar territory.

Our appetites whetted for taking new and rather interesting diversions though, we decided to take a different route back to the hotel, this time through St James.  We had another small errand to do here and in the space of five minutes and the space of a dozen or so buildings snapped a couple of chapters of British history.

I’ve learned quite a lot about Ada Lovelace in this, the centenary of her birth so was pleased to see her name on this building in St James Square.

Whilst I stopped to take that photograph, my hero had spotted an interesting registration plate.

A couple of doors along from Ada’s home, though, was another blue plaque.  Here, at Chatham House, where all manner of important issues of the day are discussed, former residents include Pitt the Elder, Lord Derby and Gladstone and some remarkably eminent souls have passed over that particular threshold.

This square could surely tell some tales: look who lived here.  It’s now home to the In and Out Club and that third blue plaque in as many minutes rounded off our morning walk nicely.  A spot of lunch around the corner and we were ready for home. 

Be it ever so humble…

Are we having fun yet?

The jury was definitely out on that question earlier in the week when the new tumble dryer was delivered at 9.30pm on Monday evening with a 4mm indentation on the outer surface of the door.  Since then, I think we’ve probably spoken to almost everyone in the call centre, each one of whom has been utterly charming and appeared to do their best to resolve the situation.  Suffice to say, however, that we are still awaiting news of a replacement but do at least have permission to use this one for the time being.

I already had an email conversation underway with the manufacturer of the pocket pages I use for my Project Life album which are irritatingly inconsistent in size.  As a result, some of my 4 x 6 inch photographs are too big for the pocket and have to be trimmed down further whilst others are too small and don’t fill the pocket at all.  Good customer service means that my comments are taken seriously and action has been taken to replace them, but it’s another thing to think about and deal with (adding to an ever lengthening list right now).  I don’t know about you but when comparatively trivial stuff like this is happening at the same time as other, more important concerns, it’s really hard to settle and get things done.  This was the case at the start of the week, then, when my mind was definitely elsewhere for much of the time.

Yesterday, though, was one of those magical days when a tumble dryer with a damaged door and dodgy PL pages were forgotten.  I met a couple of friends and we went to Mary Howard’s  Christmas Fair at Hullavington.  When I was a young Mum doing the daily school run, a whole bunch of us would go to the fair every year in search of fun things for Christmas stockings and nifty little gifts which couldn’t be found anywhere else.  It was always a grand day out and I have many happy memories of those times.  Like many such events though, the novelty wears off, we move on and it’s quite some years since I’ve made the effort to go along.  When the invitation came this year, though, we decided to give it a go again and I looked forward to rediscovering the fun, hoping that the same magnificent organisation would make it as memorable as ever.

We weren’t disappointed!   I’d booked lunch too, which meant we had a table there in the restaurant with our names on it and a selection of freshly prepared dishes to tempt us.  We’d all stashed several bags at the collection point by this time and though I’m not going to give away any secrets here, let’s just say the shopping was excellent

We gathered a fair bit of inspiration too – we think Margaret could easily assemble a reindeer from a few dried citrus fruit, don’t you?

After such a successful and enjoyable day, there was already a smile on my face when I went to my WI meeting, then.  I’m not sure my photo is clear enough to reveal the subject on Tim Mayo’s tie: There is nothing like a Dame!

I’m rather hoping that the make up advice he offered won’t be taken too seriously by the members!

He told a great story though and had everyone in stitches – quite a transformation, isn’t it?

Much as I enjoy a day out with friends followed by an entertaining WI meeting though, the magic of the day was mostly as a result of a phone call with the news that the family government affairs professional has a new job with a larger portfolio (and hopefully, a smaller phone!) 

Two proud parents basked in the news of his success last evening.

If only I’d realised

I parked my car at the station yesterday morning and caught the train to London.  There were about half a dozen useable spaces left and some where adjacent cars had been left so close to the line that there wasn’t really enough room left for anything but a tiny vehicle.  There was no one about and I had plenty of time, so I shunted backwards and forwards in a parking space until I was happy that I’d not overstepped my mark before going over the bridge to the platform.

I was meeting my friends Nita and Paulene to see the exhibition of Ai Weiwei’s work at the Royal Academy and as we hung around outside under the “trees” in the yard outside, I found Joshua Reynolds’ gesture towards the exhibition banner amusing.  Just what would he have made of this, I wonder?

There were quite a few people in the gallery, though thankfully, not so many as to make viewing difficult.  We began at the beginning, of course, in gallery 1.

Once we’d read the explanation of the shaped surface of the wooden “bed” (it’s a map of China), it took on a greater significance and then, just as we were about to move on, my attention was drawn by Nita to the circular “frames” on the wall.

They too were an exhibit, each one different and each one representing a section of the map profile too. 

Concentrate, Gill!

Rather than offer a blow-by-blow walkthrough, I’ll simply record a few of my favourites, including these stools which were arranged in such a pleasing shape, creating – as Penny observed on my FB post – one of those arrangements art teachers create for their students.  I hadn’t realised that many of these installations are recreated in different, site-specific formats and only on googling when I arrived home, did I see an enlarged version of this work.

I really loved this tightly packed composition, reminiscent of the piece we enjoyed in Minneapolis this summer, though of course, it was entirely different.  This was a solid block of timber, created from waste pieces from other projects, framed within a pair of parallel bars from a factory gymnasium.  Once again, Ai Weiwei loads his work with political comment.

Not every stunning thing was part of the exhibition.  The gratings in the floor are so well worn and catch my eye every time I visit!

It’s always good to see people working in the gallery too.  There were a couple of large groups of highly focused students drawing and making close observations.  What a great opportunity!

I think I expected this piece to leave the greatest impression on me, for it was the one installation I’d heard the most about.  Sure enough, in the same way as the sunflower seeds had captivated us, it was the sheer quantity of steel bars here which struck me as I stepped into the room.

The bars were carefully arranged in layers, creating strata and fissures in the surface.  All around the gallery were lists of names, of the children killed by the earthquake which caused the shoddily-built school to collapse.  Another heartfelt statement, expressed with such impact.

Another large-scale piece which bears a closer look to appreciate the intent.

Around the corner in the next room was the crab house, created from the artist’s studio, compulsorily demolished and the heap of ceramic crabs in the corner representing the role of censorship – a play on the chinese words.

And there, up on the dado rail, the one “outcast” crab, the individual, set apart from the mass.

Other favourite pieces included this structure, created from substantial pieces of old timber in an arrangement said to be a map of China when seen from above.  Who knows?  It wasn’t possible to view it so and I’ve been unable to find an overhead photo of it, so we will simply have to take it on trust.

These two stools represent Taiwan, by the way.

I very much liked one of the “metre cubes”, the one which was like a Chinese puzzle with secret drawers and openings.

The room with the “statement” pieces of ancient pottery was interesting too.  There’s a discussion to be had on that topic alone, not to mention the room full of “vitrines” and the Sanctuary gallery.  I think the marble gallery was the least successful in my mind – though I “got it”, for me it was those pieces which had the least impact.

It was the magnificent chandelier which kept my camera busy for at least ten minutes.  Each time I stepped back and looked from a different angle, there was another pleasing arrangement, a different kaleidoscope pattern to see. 

Very clever and just so much to think about.  To consider and mull over.  A tremendous exhibition. And, having seen it for myself, especially interesting to read Helen’s impressions too.

Just as well we’d planned lunch, then! 

It was one of those lunches that could have continued into dinner.  Friends with much catching up to do as well as art to talk about.  Travel plans to discuss, ideas to share and simple pleasure to be had in each other’s company.

Of course we had time for dessert.

As I returned to my car later in the evening, I was sorry to find the car next to mine had parked so close that it was impossible for me to get in.  I stood around a while, hoping the driver was on the same train, but no joy.  What to do?  I couldn’t wait an hour for the next train – after all, they might not even be returning this evening. So I decided to get in through the passenger door and try to squeeze over the central tunnel into the drivers seat.  Most undignified, especially as in doing so I got stuck!  Thankfully, there was nobody left in the car park by then – just as well.  I managed to get myself out and tried again, putting both driver and passenger seats right back and finally made it, cricking my neck in the process.

When I thought about it, I’d noted how tightly packed the cars were this morning and the danger of not being able to get into a car had flitted through my brain.  But surely, anyone would consider that before leaving their car, wouldn’t they?

It seems not.

If only I’d realised when I parked my car, I’d have ensured that I parked driver’s door to driver’s door, making sure it’d be ok when I got back.  But there really is no guarantee that some thoughtless person won’t do that again, is there?  (I’ll worry next time, that’s for sure)

For now, I’m simply at home wearing one of those microwave neckwarmer things, looking a bit as though I’m aping the guy from Bo Selecta.  As long as it doesn’t impede the grey matter later when Avening WI will compete in the county quiz final, all will be well!

Going underground

It doesn’t look like the kind of place for a great night out, does it?

Our friends Paulene and Nigel had got hold of tickets for a tour of the Deep Level Air Raid Shelter at Clapham Common and wondered if my Hero and I would like to join them.

You bet!

Of course, we knew nothing about the place, didn’t really have any idea of what we’d see or do, but knowing that such opportunities don’t come up very often, I applied my usual “say yes first, wonder why later” principle and on this occasion that was exactly the right answer.

Tickets are not easily come by and Paulene had booked these way back in the early Summer, so we’d had the date in our diaries for a few months, well before we were invited to be Godparents to our newest, smallest friend the morning after.  More about that later…

We met at ground level outside the tube station at Clapham South and were tagged and a register taken.  This was a serious business…safety notices had been emailed out to us, regarding suitable footwear, personal safety (no matches, lighters etc) and the required level of fitness! There are 180 steps down to the deep-level shelter – and of course, the same 180 steps back up again.  Hmm.  Naturally, if there was a fire or other emergency down there, those 180 steps might have to be taken at a canter…

Well, let’s not think about such things, eh?

But as soon as we were taken through an innocuous looking door there was hardly a chance to think sweet thoughts!  Sorry about the poor photo, but we did set off at quite a pace.  You can at least see that the staircase was a gentle spiral, the steps secure and there was a handrail.  We were pleased of that later on!

When we got to the bottom, 35m or so below street level, a small welcome party was waiting for us, ready to guide us through a mile or so of tunnels and give us an idea of what it would have been like to have been one of the 8000 people who could have sheltered from the bombing down here.

We began with a little background to the construction – when, why and where.  There were about twenty of us in the group and half a dozen guides, so plenty of chance to ask questions and take photos.

Although I’d wondered if it would feel claustrophobic down there, it was well lit and actually quite comfortable – though the rumble of the Northern Line trains passing over our heads was a little disconcerting.

We were led through a series of tunnels, divided into areas named after Naval Commanders and shown some of the features of the shelter along the way.

Where fittings had been removed, large wall panels gave a better idea – of the men’s loos, for example!  (I didn’t really want to imagine not only how 8000 people could cope with just four lavatory areas, never mind how the effluent was dealt with bearing in mind the sewer is above the shelter)  I think the atmosphere down here could have been less than fragrant…

Some of the tunnels were still fitted with the bunk beds as they would have been in 1944.  People arriving at the shelter would have been given a location and a bunk number for the night, but would need to leave the following morning, taking all their belongings with them.

Two parallel tunnels stretched out in a broad curve in both directions and we walked the length of them before going down a few more steps to another level where the same layout was to be found.

The idea of being down here for any length of time wasn’t very attractive, even if the canteen served “off ration” goodies such as cakes and jam tarts to keep up morale.

After the war, the shelters were used to accommodate troops and later, to house some of the newly arrived migrants from Jamaica, from the Empire Windrush.  Later still, European students visiting the Festival of Britain found cheap hostel-style lodging down here, but shortly afterwards it was regarded as unsafe to use for overnight accommodation.

For a while, the shelter was used for archival storage and we were told that one of the other shelters is now used for hydroponic horticulture, growing microherbs for the London restaurant trade.  Access and other essential services make it tricky to find a good use for these clean, dry, temperate spaces I suppose but it’s surprising that some bright spark hasn’t come up with an imaginative idea.

Feeling thankful that we didn’t have to rely on the facilities down here, we found ourselves back at the staircase and began the climb back to the surface.  No, I didn’t count the steps but I can tell you, the pint of Camden Hells enjoyed in the pub along the road hardly touched the sides.

Read more about the shelter here and the tours here.  

Thanks Paulene and Nigel for a great night out!