.More beautiful Autumn days in Bloomsbury.   I’ve not experienced an autumn like this  since Oneonta.  Of course, the incredible fiery colors  and crisp temperature of an     Oneonta Fall are not here but the setting and the sky are great.  The only bad thing about these several days were some “dodgy tacos.”  I had lunch at a “Latin themed” local restaurant that was something of a cross between Fawlty Towers and Steve Martin’s “The Waiter” Sketch.  The couple next to me, arrived after me, ordered a much more complicated meal than I did and got it almost immediately.  I never got my side order, waited for ever for my tacos, and later in the day fond the tacos coming out of me with a certain vehemence.

Speaking of Oneonta, I had another great meeting with an alumnus.  This time, it was David Daly, Class of 1977.  David was another of the great Garth Stam’s recruits from the UK to our little college during the “first golden age” at SUNY Oneonta.  I’m actually lucky this meet and greet and all that followed happened. David and I had agreed to meet at a Starbucks in Soho,  down from the Piccadilly Circus Tube Station.  My phone decided not to give me access to Google Maps when I arrived at Piccadilly, so, using my powers of memory I made my way to the Starbucks.  There I sat until David responded to my e-mail stating that he too had arrived and did not see me or my red SUNY Oneonta bag.  Yep, there were 2 Starbucks and I was at the wrong one!  David came to me.  David has had an amazing career on both sides of the Atlantic.  We shared our memories of college days and our thoughts about the college today and what we both would like to do in the future.  David is also on the board of Fulham Football Club.  He is a lifetime supporter of the club.  David mentioned that Fulham would be playing Preston on Saturday.  A special treat was  the presence of American Brian McBride who had played for both sides during his English football career.  David kindly got me a ticket for the match at historic Craven Cottage.

There’s something special about a football match in London.  Craven Cottage, Fulham’s stadium sits along the Thames.  It was about a half hour tube journey from Russell Square to Putney Bridge then, literally, a walk through the park.  This park, Bishop’s Park.  David said to just follow the crowd and I did, through the lovely park.   The football match was pretty exciting.  While Preston got the better of the local boys inte first half, I guess Brian McBride must have brought some Yankee mojo with to the field at the half because Fulham tied the game in the very last seconds of injury time.  The Metropolitan Police and Transportation for London (TfL) did a splendid job on  getting us through the Park and safely onto the Putney Bridge Tube Station.  Unlike arrival for the match, everybody was leaving together.  It was a real production.

My last “Breakfast concert was Sunday morning at Wigmore Hall.  The Scottish Ensemble provided 5 of its string instrumentalists to serenade us with Mozart and Brahms.  The two pieces were played to perfection.  It was almost dreamlike to sit there and listen to the music.  I found myself thinking great thoughts to the grand music, not quite asleep, not quite awake!  It was an hour in paradise.

 

 

 

This picture is for my friend Brenda.  We were having an online chat about my trip, EastEnders (our longtime shared interest), and what things seem most different between the US  and the UK.  We started talking about how people in the fictional Walford of “EastEnders” often ‘go out for a curry.  I told Brenda that I had had many a curry here in London.  And here, Brenda, are a few of the Curry sauces that you can buy in the local supermarket here.

One of the lifts was out in Clare Court for a few days.  Luckily, there are two. Not so lucky, the Tate.  After a wander around the permanent collection, I thought I would head up to the Members Lounge that is at the top of the dome in the museum.  Guess what, the lift was broken.  The security guard a spry gentleman well into his 80s, chuckled as he told me that the lift was custom made so each part had to be custom made.  The marble spiral staircase was an adventure.

There’s an estate agent right across the street from the flats.  OK, I gave into temptation and paid them a visit.  Don’t worry Sally, no messages for Jennifer.  It was an interesting experience though.  The visit also  led me to having lunch at a sweet little neighborhood pizza place called Pizza Sophia.   The pizza was great and there was a real neighborhood vibe.  The waitress was a real “Italian Girl.”  This is important.  While I was eating an unpleasant young man came in to the restaurant and said to the waitress: “do yous do coffee?”  Things rapidly went downhill an there were a few tense moments before the man left.  The waitress was 5 foot nothing, the man was big and she did not give an inch.  We could have been in Brooklyn.  Meanwhile, the chef came out with a “pizza soufflé” which he shared with several regulars.

Sorry this one is short.  I’m a bit out of juice today.

Autumn weather has been slowly settling.  For me that means experimenting with layers of clothes on top that can be removed quickly.  I also travel everywhere with my Kindle in hand.  Its great for dining alone, or long Tube journeys.  And, its battery is more reliable than my smart phone.

So, speaking of my Kindle, somewhere along the line, I picked up the book “The Lost Way” by Stephen J. Patterson.   It is a well written study of the earliest collected written record of the words of Jesus.  He refers to them as the lost gospels.  They are often referred to as “Q” (a document yet to be found intact) and the Gospel of Thomas, a collection of sayings or teachings of Jesus.  These paint Jesus as a teacher of wisdom more than the Messianic figure of the other gospels.  However, Patterson, is a true scholar and is not selling his viewpoint but laying out a fascinating set of facts for the reader to mull over.

I had the Nancy Reagan dream again.  As an otherwise fairly normal week in London was rolling along, I went to sleep and found myself dreaming of the former first lady, and not for the first time!  This time she was working for me and had managed to become a rather youthful 50 something and quite attractive.  Thank goodness I woke up before a Constitutional crisis occurred.  I am generally a left of center person politically, so this occasional subconscious obsession could drive me into therapy yet.

After the Reagan incident, I realized that my duties lie in completing my mission buying birthday gifts for my “niece”  Edie who was having a Second birthday on Saturday.   headed to Covent Garden.  After a good “recce” around, I decided some lunch as in order.  As I turned a corner near the Opera House, I was pleasantly surprised to see the “Masala Zone,” an Indian restaurant I had visited with Edie’s dad James a couple of years ago.  The lunch was delicious, but way more than I could finish!  Still a great, spicy meal.  I had a window seat too, great for watching the character and characters of Covent Garden.  After lunch, it was off to the Transport Museum to get a gift and then to the little card shop near my flat for a few bits and pieces.

Edie’s birthday was truly an event!  The Tube Ride to Tooting Broadway from Kings Cross was uneventful, except for the father and son sitting across the aisle.  Dad was showing son family pictures on his phone and apparently trying to place them on a family tree.  I  almost told them that their family sounded as large and complex as mine with so many aunts, uncles and cousins all over the place.  Edie was lucky to have two grannies, a grand-dad, an auntie, an uncle, a cousin, and American “Uncle Mark” at her party, along with, mum, dad, and Teddy the cat.  Delicious food, fun chatter, and great gifts.  Edie and her cousin Jack kept us all entertained.

For me, the day wasn’t over when the party ended.  A quick stop at the flat to freshen up and I was off to the theater in Leicester square to see Martin Freeman and Tamsin Grieg in “Labour of Love,” a fantastic play about a “New Labour MP and his “Old Labour” Constituency Manager (she’s the one that run’s the equivalent of a Congressman’s district office and runs his campaigns for re-election).  They were both great, as were the supporting casts.The story is very timely for both the British and American political scenes because its about much more than two people.  It is about the clash of ideas and ideals and whether our political parties on both sides of the Atlantic really can serve all the people today.  In the case of Labour, can they ever put the old “Red/Bolshie/Trotskyite” ideals that kept them in opposition for long periods behind them?  But can a new Labour “brand” be trusted or does Labour end up as America’s Democrats have fighting moneyed interests who sell worried, fed up middle class and angry poor slogans that feed their paranoia and keep the country split?  Are Theresa May and Donald Trump the answers?  This play left me with more questions, but was a great night out.

 

The Ferryman, as I noted in a Facebook post, was an impeccably acted play.  Every person on the stage was believable and well cast.  Sadly, it was a tale of The Troubles, so often told and so often heard that its denouement was, for me a point of disappointment rather than anything else.  Still, I look back on the afternoon as an experience of great acting craft.
A random conversation at the local Caffe Nero.  Young male “stud-ent” helping a female Chinese classmate by explaining random (to my hearing) bits of history and economics.  The only problem was that he was picking theories that might be discussed in a senior level class, not established history or fact.  I really hope the young woman didn’t have any exams coming up that she was going to use that information on.
Another random vignette.  This from the news.  People in London who have their root in the island of Domenica are running their own relief effort   From house to house they are collecting needed good, storing them in homes, moving from home to home as the homes fill.  One hears no negativity from the government nor the opposition.
So, the Oneonta Alumni visits continue.  I met a fairly recent grad who came to the UK and met a fellow from Belfast.  We met at a lovely café in Covent Garden  The great thing about alumni meetings is that no matter how many years separate our time at the school, there is a bond.  We had a lovely brunch and a great chat.  Jill and her husband are great fun.  And that was just part one.  I also got to meet with a classmate!  Madeline and I both graduated in 1975.  She and her husband Bill have lived in London for many years.  They invited me to join them for dinner at the Royal Auto Club on Pall Mall.Here we ae with  the Alfa Romeo the RAC had on display.  It was fun to reminisce about our days on