Bloomsbury and St Paul's

I decided this morning to take advantage of the improved state of my knees to walk around Bloomsbury and Covent Garden. I have decided to spend my limited time locally rather than heading for major attractions. I regret missing the Natiinal Gallery and Tate Modern this time - but I can't do it all and it's a shame not to explore the precinct.

My walk took me around the British Museum to Russell Square, down Bury St, where I stopped briefly at the impressive London Review Bookshop (no, didn't indulge, I'm travelling light with ebooks!). Its attached foodcourt was full of hopeful Cordon Bleu chefs.

This area has several Scottish outfitters. I loved this patchwork tartan bag.

I was hoping to visit St George's Church, but it doesn't open until afternoons. It's interesting to see the interfaith support declared by churches in this area.

I headed down Drury Lane, with its barber shops, of varying degrees of sophistication.

A few costume shops have survived the invasion of eateries 

along with regalia shops.

Around the corner in Queen Street is the monumental and seemingly impenetrable Masonic Building

and not far away, Aviation House, with its odd injunction to "Enter, Rest, Pray" over the door. Perhaps that could also be inscribed over the doors on long haul planes!

A fashionable hat

and a ceramics display caught my eye before I took a rest in Bloomsbury Square and headed back to put my feet up for a bit.

In the afternoon I caught a bus to St Paul's. As the bus stop was outside the now open St George's Church, I popped in to have a look. It is a lovely square shape with a new chandelier acquired from the Netherlands and an interesting lectern.

Many readers are aware that today is the first anniversary of Jim's death. I'm grateful for and sustained by all the messages of support.

We both liked St Paul's and attended the choral Evensong there last time we were in London. I spent a bit of time time today walking around St Paul's.

I lit quite a lot of candles - enough for all of us -in front of the Holman Hunt painting "Behold I stand at the door and knock". Jim was one for opening doors, so it seemed fitting. The candles made steady and bright light for a long time.

I had a drink and ice cream in the cafe, then sat under the dome and stitched for about 45 minutes until Evensong - still, I think, my favourite Anglican service.

Photos are not allowed so I don't have a lot to show. The music was lovely. I'd have preferred more chance to join in the singing of the responses, but I understand the notion of a choir responding on our behalf - and it fits with the statement of the architecture - the colour of the mosaics,  the gold, the words, the music and the depicted stories lifting our spirits to the light. I'm very glad I went. It worked for me. 

When I returned to my hotel the bar music was loud, so to preserve my centeredness I ate at a pleasant local Greek Taverna. I hope others were as blessed today.

I arrive in London

35 hours since I left home, here I am in my London Hotel. It is Bank Holiday - so traffic is, apparently, milder and lots of people out and about on foot. 

My journey was relatively straightforward - delay leaving Melbourne because of a broken air bridge which meant boarding planes through one door only. Consequently our turn-around time in Dubai was short. However, after we had taxied to the take-off position we returned to the terminal to disembark not one, but two, passengers who had been taken ill and required paramedic (and subsequent hospital) treatment. Their bags, of course, had to be located and removed. We also topped up the fuel we had used up taxiing. 

So already there are untold stories. Who were the two passengers? How were they taken ill? What is happening to them? Those of us who passed this hurdle on our journey were soothed with lavender and lemongrass tea (calms the nerves), pretzels and cashews. Our stories continue in common for a while longer - but do not declare themselves. We read and watch our separate movies (Into the Woods for me)

We arrived some two hours late into Heathrow - a few queues, numerous long corridors interspersed with travelators, luggage carousel, more corridor and out the magic door to find the Qantas car organiser. I am assigned a quiet, pleasant driver. The ride is smooth - greenery and May flowers give way to more car sales showrooms than I have seen in any one city. Has the great Naval Power and Railway Engineering Workshop turned into a Car Showroom? For miles buildings are designed to display cars in glass towers above the M4. Modern versions of Rapunzel's tower - with, presumably, hydraulic  lifts instead of hair - and cars in place of maiden. 

The showrooms give way to housing, housing to shops. Brick gives way to steel and glass, then to less steel and more glass.

We drive around and around Bloomsbury for 20 minutes trying to find my hotel. The driver is mortified. Asks direction of passers by - one eventually comes good.

All is well.  I have a map of London and the British Museum is around the corner. The wifi works, my phone is recharging - and I have a most comfortable looking bed. There's not too much more a girl could ask for right now.