Stardate: 19 April 2019 - Good Friday Frolics

It was a damn fine Friday!  Unlike home, where even the local tip shuts up shop, Londoners spill out onto the streets with gay abandon on this second day of the Easter Triduum. All the shops are open and climate change activists made their mark pretty significantly in the main shopping strip along Oxford Street with over 700 arrested. More power to them!  Easter Sunday is the 'quiet' day here.

Our first stop was was the Victoria and Albert Museum of Childhood in Bethnal Green. 

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It was veritable feast of childhood, featuring children's toys, games and clothing over a period of 500 years.  We rather liked this 16th century highchair which I suspect breaches every current day health and safety regulation imaginable and would possibly feel a tad lumpy to the young lord or lady whose bum was parked in it.  We also saw a wooden rocking horse, purportedly crafted for Charles the First as a wee sprog, but alas, the pic was rubbish (like most of those we took at Portsmouth yesterday, sorry!) so does not appear.  It didn't bear much resemblance to a horse I must say, possibly because someone appeared to have belted its snout off. Maybe Charles did it when throwing a tantrum.  Anyway, it was the prototype for all the (snouted) rocking horses that followed.

"Take an S, take an I, take an N-D-Y and what have you got? You've got Sindy! The doll you love to dress."   Much to my embarrassment, Geoff sang this old TV commercial loudly when he spotted this display.   I think it was his favourite as he wished to linger when I wanted to move on to model racing cars.  .

I loved the one in the middle - The Golden Arrow. The actual Golden Arrow (as opposed to this pretend one) was built in 1928 and broke the land speed record the following year, travelling at 372 kilometres per hour.  Girls, it was ice-cooled with no radiator and had a 925 hp engine with 3-speed, final drive through twin driveshafts.  Imagine!





Changing the subject entirely, I'm almost expiring from the heat of this flat - still centrally heated to 50 degrees even though it's about 25 outside. The weather has been glorious since our arrival and we are stuck with our winter woolies.  I'd love to pop out and buy a muu-muu but fear I would resemble Colleen McCullough. Handing over to Mr Snorky now. 

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My own favourite was this elaborate pedal car.  I don't need to tell you it's an Austin A40, as you already worked this out after one glance.  We had plenty of Austin A40s in Australia, but they were mostly sedans, with some utes and panel vans, usually grey as I recall, although black was an interesting option. But they were certainly never red, like this sporty model. [We had a navy blue one. A ute. - Ed.]

I too enjoyed the museum, and it gave us the opportunity to visit yet another London neighborhood, in Bethnal Green.  We had time to sit in a beautiful park while there and enjoy the bucolic atmosphere. Of course, this was the best London weather since records began, so that helped.

We then reversed course and headed for Borough Market in Southwark on the south bank of the Thames.  It's a huge produce market and surrounded by countless restaurants cafes and pubs.  It's always busy.

Not sure that this does it justice, but believe me, it's shoulder to shoulder wherever you go.  Our purpose was to meet old friends from Australia - Larry and Helen, who happen to be visiting just at this moment.  'Old friends' can be a bit of a cliche, but Larry and I have known each other for 57 years now, so I think I can be forgiven for using it.

Larry and Helen have just become grand parents to beautiful 15 week old Lily.  Their daughter Emily has lived in London for several years and is now married to Karl (next to Helen).  Karl is an Irish citizen, so I think we worked out that Lily is entitled to British, Irish and Australian citizenship.  Most significantly, her Irish parentage entitles her to EU citizenship too (a not well-concealed Brexit reference there).

The venue was the George Inn, a 17th century galleried coaching inn, the last of its type remaining in London.  Space precludes me from explaining in detail what that means, but you'll just have to take my word for it that it's pretty special.  Oh, and it features in Dickens' Little Dorrit, giving it that bit extra cachet, even allowing for the fact that Dickens was not known to be choosy about where he drank.

Mr Pants has suddenly signed off for the night -  I think the heat has got to him. We're so wretchedly hot, we're both staggering about in our cottontails!  I am wearing a t-shirt though.

To Colchester tomorrow - considered a spectacular dump from all accounts but it has splendid Roman ruins which we are eager to see.  Hooroo!