I had arranged to go to London on Wednesday and of course it turned out to be totally sweltering. London is unbearable in the grip of a heatwave and I will be honest and say I was not looking forward to my trip. In the end it was fine as I drove up and parked at Helen's house and caught the Tube to South Kensington where I was headed for the V & A my favourite museum. Tube was bearable, just, and the good thing about South Ken station is that there is a tunnel which will take you along to the various museums. I used to use this daily when I was a regular Prommer at the Albert Hall in my salad days and it was like going back in my life to pop down the stairs again into its shabby tiled glory. Best thing of course is that it was cool and I avoided the hot pavements outside.
I had arranged to meet up with Rachel, who has a lovely blog, Book Snob. Rachel works at the V&A and we met for a quick lunch and chat - never a shortage of chat between bloggers - and I gave her my copy
of Juliet Gardiner's wonderful book on The Thirties which I had promised her. This was an inadequate thank you as I discovered that Rachel had obtained a ticket for me for not only the Quilts exhibition but the one on Grace Kelly, style icon as well. I enjoyed both these very much, but will admit to feeling a tad inadequate as I toured around the Quilts. It was full of learned, experienced quilting women who were huddled around each exhibit discoursing on patterns, blocks, papers and other esoteric expressions none of which meant anything to me. I was happy just to stand and look and admire and wonder at the patience and time taken over these exquisite pieces of work, and exquisite they were though the Victorian crazy quilting (which I did know about) was less attractive and some of the modern quilting left me cold. There was a recent quilt which caught my attention but the overly feminist message on the spiel next to it was so earnest and smug I got cross which I know I should not have done, but I did. So there.
I ended up yearning over a tiny little doll's cradle with a simply gorgeous little quilt to fit and thought how sweet it was and wouldn't Florence love it and a lady next to me sighed and said oh how her granddaughter would love that. Well, not going to miss that opening so we yakked about grandchildren for the next five minutes.
OK emerged in one piece, feeling woefully ignorant, and then off to see the Grace Kelly exhibition. Oh, how gorgeous it was. There were all these beautiful gowns and suits and shoes and bags and sunglasses and the first thing that struck me was that Princess Grace was not tiny, she was just right. Now we are talking relative here. To me from looking at the models she struck me as being about 5' 7" and I would think a size 12, later in life she went up to a 14. In other words, from a proper woman's point of view, she had a great figure, was perfectly in proportion and looked stunning. By the standards of today's stick insect film stars and celebs she would be thought HUGE. Her early death was so tragic but she has certainly left a legacy of style and, yes, grace behind.
I then had a quick cup of tea in the caff. Yes, the caff. And how about this for a tea room? Pretty good huh?
I was getting tired by now but could not resist entering the Book Tower, one of a series of architectural exhibits scattered around the V&A which you can enter. Rickety and swaying by the time you reach the top, there is a seat to read and ponder on and the tower is lined with hundreds of books. Not sure what is going to happen to them at the end.....
Then could not resist taking a picture of this gorgeous beautiful and elegant lady. I was not alone in this, each time I passed by there were several people snapping her. And who can blame them? She is Emily Georgiana, wife of the Earl of Winchelsea and Nottingham and she died in 1848 aged 38. Her husband must have loved her very much to have this wonderful sculpture commissioned.
Now this bust - did a double take when I saw it. Michael Gambon anyone?
OK could have and wanted to spend more time in this simply glorious place but back aching and feet throbbing, so headed back down tunnel, my train came in quickly and my heart sank when I saw it was heaving. But you know what? Some lovely young girl leaped to her feet and made me take her seat and I beamed and smiled and thanked her gratefully and slumped into it. She turned and gave me a wave when she got off at her station later on and I thought what a sweet gesture. Made my day.
Then back to James and Helen to be greeted at the door with the news she knew I would want to hear first 'Mum, Federer is out!' Then through to the living room where Florence was rolling around on her play mat with nothing on but her nappy, beaming at me and looking like a little Buddha with her roly poly tummy so got down on the floor with her and we both gurgled and chuckled at each other. Then a cup of tea from son-in-law and a watch of the Murray/Tsonga match and then a drive home about 7'ish. Traffic minimal, lovely and cool with the heat of the day gone and even the A12 looked good, Classic FM playing relaxing music and I was home in just over and hour and a quarter.
Sooo glad to be back in my nice cool flat, feet up on sofa, watched NCIS to which I am totally addicted and then bed. Bliss, bliss, bliss..........
Thank you Rachel I had a lovely day.
