Say it slowly tour Day 54: London

Last breakfast at the Bayswater Arms. Have lots to do today, so am here right on opening. Get to help move furniture, set up the outdoor stuff. The manager has been watching marine documentaries, and she’s full of knowledge on killer whales, sharks and stingrays.

The plan is huge, but I can do it.

I didn’t do it. The list was: Tate Britain, Jellied Eels and possibly a good old east end pie, find bottle of ginger wine, look at other booze, National Gallery, Wallace Collection, catch up with G (and possibly A — if he’s back), work out how to pack everything.

What I did was: Tate Britain, jellied eels and good old east end pie and mash, look in vain for ginger wine, be uninspired by other booze, walk lots, Wellcome collection, took photos of MI6 building and Battersea power station, walk some more, catch tubes in semi random manner, eat a waffle with dark chocolate and cream. At this point, catching up with G is still on the cards.

So I did some of it, anyway.

Am fairly wrecked, physically and mentally. I know that part of my mind has already said goodbye, see you at home. My knees and ankled would love to join my mind. My back wants to be anywhere else.

if I had the mindset of a champion athlete, I’d probably be gearing up for one last push before the end of the race. I think, instead, I’m just looking to finish. Get home, see L and dog and cat, sleep, not climb stairs for a while.

I know I haven’t bought enough random things/presents/souvenirs for everyone I should have, I may go crazy at the airport tomorrow. I guess so many souvenirs haven’t appealed to me, haven’t talked to me. So many souvenirs are bland. Sad really. I like souvenirs with character, something different. Even the choice of snowdomes has been fairly bland.

Tate  Britain was great, so many pretty things there. They’ve changed the layout since I was last there, with more thematic grouping and less chronological. The pre-raphaelite room was open, so got to see Ophelia, Beatrice, Proserpine up good and close. Some cool stuff by Burne-Jones, too. Couldn’t see the Lady of Shalott, it’s presently on display in Canada. They had a Turner and the masters exhibition, which sadly showed how poor some of Turner’s stuff really was when put next to the likes of Rembrant, Titian and others. Turner does have some good stuff: landscapey things, nature things, anything that doesn’t have people in it. I don’t think he managed to capture people at all effectively. Boats he did, mountains, buildings, but not people. They also had a big load of Turner elsewhere at the Tate, so was pretty Turnered out by the end.

Wandered towards Vauxhall tube from the Tate, a journey over Vauxhall bridge, giving me a view of the Battersea Power Station to the right, and MI6 to the left. Snapped away joyfully at both.

From there I hiked out to Bethnall Green Road, looking for a pie’n’mash shop. I knew there were at least a couple there. I completely missed one, walked straight past, but found another, near deserted one shortly before it closed. Went the full pie, mash and eels. The pie and mash were very tasty, but also very different, arriving swimming in parsley liquor. Pie was meaty, with an unthickened gravy. Then there were the eels. Cold pieces of eel in a bowl of clear jelly. Tried the jelly first, it tasted good. A delicate, slightly fishy flavour. Then went for the eel. I hesitantly, carefully picked out the spine bone, and bravely brought the spoonful to my mouth.

It tasted good, fishy, eely, like cold fish really. I added a  good squirt of malt vinegar to the mix, and once I’d picked out the bones, munched away. By the end I’m not sure what I was worried about.

Headed back into the west end, full of eel and looking for a decent bottle shop that might have the ginger wine, or at least some exciting whisky. In that neck of the woods, there are two types of bottle shops: wine shops and supermarkets/off licenses selling basic wines and beer. Also found a shop for spirits in Soho, and an Oddbins, but neither could help. So no luck there. In my wandereing, found Gordon Ramsay’s Claridges, so had a quick squiz at the menu. It’s 4 squids for a coke, to which I can only say, fuck off. Rest of the menu looked okay though.

Ended up taking the tube up to Euston station, where I stumbled out and into the Wellcome collection. Saw three galleries there. The first was a modern medicine exhibition, a mix of art and displays including a thin cross section of a whole body. Next was one called Medicine Man, bits and pieces collected by Mr Wellcome including shrunken heads, Nelson’s razor, Darwin’s walking stick, a phrenology skull and old chinese sex aids. The third was the feature exhibition, of a history of medical models, lots of cross sections of things, models to take apart and put back together, wiah any number of diseases look like, and stuff like that. There was also a curtained off bit, with some models deemed possibly offensive. I just wonder what the guy who made them told his family: guess what, my latest commission is a syphilitic penis! Must have gone down a treat at dinner parties.

Strolled throgh the various streets around the university and made my way back to Tottenham Court Road, the tube and then the waffle place on Queensway. Stood all the way, and am beginning to think that my body is giving me signals. Only two more days, then it can lie down lots.

Caught up with G, went back to Bodeans as his eyes lit up at the mention of ribs. Had another good feast, this time sshredded pork with the burnt ends, followed by the chocolate fudge cake. G got talking with the waitress, found out she was from Poland, so was able to thank her in Polish. I think she appreciated  that.

Now I just need to pack, sleep, and head back to Oz.