intertext

Sorry, I don't have a picture today. I actually took one of myself sitting in my little Yotel cabin (rather like a sleeping compartment on a train, only with shower), but don't have the energy either to find my USB cable in my luggage or to fiddle around with downloading/uploading.

It was a good day^TM, highlighted, of course, by Waiting For Godot. This was brilliant, and the four guys were fabulous, although I had a feeling that Patrick Stewart was a bit too bouncy and energetic, though he does play the more optimistic of the two characters. Ronald Pickup's monologue as Lucky was astounding (I've always loved Ronald Pickup) But I still don't really like Beckett. I appreciated the production for the acting and the staging and the whole experience of the thing, but, to be honest, I much preferred Arcadia.

I guess it's the difference between a mind-set that says "you have to laugh, because the world is just meaningless crap" or "life is short, beauty is fleeting, but those brief points of love and hope and beauty are what give life its meaning."

That's not to say that I wasn't cheering at the end with the rest of the audience of which there seemed a higher proportion of American tourists than at Arcadia. I couldn't help thinking that it was unlikely there'd be sold-out performances and an extended run of that play without those particular Big Names in the cast. And it speaks well for taste and the power of word of mouth that Arcadia is also doing very well (judging at least by the apparent scarcity of tickets).

I spent the morning packing up my stuff and then walking from Westminster bridge up to the Tate British, where I thrilled at the Pre-Raphaelites (I do love Burne Jones). I had lunch in the cafe there and then drifted back to the West End to the theatre and then back to my hotel to pick up my luggage and thence here to Gatwick. The desk clerk at Base2Stay earned my undying love by asking me if I wanted to use the loo before I set off! (I did) Now that's thoughtful service :)

Anyway, as always I feel like I have way more to say, but I'm too tired, and I have to get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow to get ready for my flight to Venice. I'm glad I don't have to feel sad about leaving England, though, coz I'll be back in two weeks!

Wow.

Just... wow.

That was so lovely. The production made it look exactly the way I imagined it when reading it, and the final scene, with the characters dancing and casting shadows on the wall ... boy; I wept.

You realize of course that my PhD studies were Postmodernism/Romanticism, so this play is just like a wet-dream for me. If I hadn't "done" novels, I would have done work on this play, and may still. It's wonderful. I'm so glad I succumbed to temptation.

Jean-Luc and Gandalf will have a lot to live up to!

I had a very good seat, except that the female half of the young couple in front of me had her hair teased into this immense Phyllis Diller- like fright-wig style, which obscured some of my view of the stage. However, they were a lovely young couple, obviously in the first throes of lurv, you know, hands drifting semi-casually, shoulders touching, electric, speaking glances to each other under seemingly casual conversation. What was delightful, though, was that in the interval they launched into a very intelligent discussion of the play, revealing some fairly detailed study of it (I suspect that it may be part of A-level syllabi?). I was so tempted to jump in and add my 2 cents to the conversation, but ... well, you know, there's a limit to academic geekitude.

In which your heroine goes to the market, wanders the Inns of Court, sees some Art, and the travel gods giveth and the travel gods taketh away...

I slept badly, despite being very very tired, but woke to find that it was Not Raining and that the Tube was kindly running on the District line, which just happens to be the most useful one for me. I topped up my Oyster Card (or thought I did - stay tuned) and travelled into the City.

First, I went to Covent Garden



Then, I walked up to the Temple, where I saw a dragon



From there, I went to Lincoln's Inn Fields and Gray's Inn - little garden parks that "by the courtesy of the Masters of the Bench are open to the public ... for the enjoyment of rest and quiet" They are oases of green and quiet and not habituated by tourists (except me)



I made my way to Lamb's Conduit street, where I stopped for a coffee and a snack and found the delightful Persephone Bookshop. I then walked back along Chancery Lane, to Fleet St and to Somerset House, where I visited the Cortauld Galleries, a wonderful small museum featuring Impressionist paintings and the Roger Fry collection of art (including some Vanessa Bells, which gave me quite a frisson). I was most delighted by some woodcuts by Winifred Gill and by an exhibit of photographs of London.

I then endeavoured to get on the Tube again, at which point I discovered that the Oyster Card machine had eaten the money I gave it that morning without recording it on my card (part of that was my fault for thinking that when it said "Thank You" it was finished and not once more swiping my card). However, a very kind person at Embankment station gave me the authority to travel back to Earls Court, and although I lost my money it was not a great loss and the day was worth it.

I was too tired to do anything much else but load some of my photos on Flickr and fall asleep in front of the TV. I woke again in time to write this, but am still pretty stupid with tiredness. Tomorrow, the Tube strike is rumoured to be over, so travel should be a little easier. I have quite ambitious plans - we shall see what the day brings...