Today was one of those days that goes unplanned. Upon reflection on how my day had unfolded, I realized there was a common thread running through them all. Everything in my day had references to Italy: gondolas, Renaissance and Verona. Could be the universe telling me something. My next trip, maybe?
I travelled up to Warwick station to check out Little Venice and Rembrandt Gardens. It’s this little idyllic area just north of Paddington station. And just like Venice or Amsterdam, there were houseboats moored in the water, along Regent’s Canal. This is not unheard of, as Stratford-upon-Avon had these narrowboats and canals as well when I visited last year, but this was right in the city of London!
I went for a quiet stroll, watched ducks scoot along the glassy water, while listening to birdcalls. And you can even hire a boat to cruise downhill to Regent’s Park or Camden via 12 locks before reaching the Thames River. It was great standing on the curved bridges to see how far back the canal reaches and it brought back with fondness of the fantastic time I had years ago, in the Netherlands.
Since it was still early on the day, I figured I’d go to the furthest point away, and work my way back to the Covent Garden area. (more on that later) and that spot was Tate Britain in south London, which is to make clear, that although there both Tates, Tate Britain’s focus is not modern art.
I went to check out their collection of my favourite era in art history, specifically, the pre-Raphaelites. The PRs painted tales of chivalry, heroism, Camelot, King Arthur, and legends of the round table; stories I fell in love with when I was a little girl. Dante Gabriel Rosetti was one of the more famous in this brotherhood of 7 artists. But equally talented and another favourite is John William Waterhouse and his Lady of Shallot painting. To see these paintings exist besides on the pages of art history textbooks, took my breath away.
One that had its own room was Edward Burnes Jones’ The Last Sleep of Arthur in Avalon. It paints the picture of King Arthur, mortally wounded, being taken to the magic island of Avalon, by his half sister, Morgan le Fay. It is there, that he is enchanted into a deep, restorative sleep, whereupon he will be called back into service, when the world is in need of him again.
This special piece has rarely been seen and for a very long time, was only in someone’s private collection. It then found a permanent home at the Museo de Arte de Ponce in Puerto Rico. It was only negotiated recently, to have it displayed in London, while that museum undergoes renovations. so just for the sheer timing of it, I felt extremely lucky to see this piece. It was so wide, at 24 foot long, it covered one whole wall. I literally sat on that bench for a solid 20 minutes, taking it all in.
I continued onwards to the British Museum, off Holburn station. My bad, in an earlier post, I raved about the V&A vs. Met. But when I saw the British Museum, I realized the comparison was like between an apple and a pear. To compare apples to apples would be British museum and the Met.
Both are massive; to just see everything, it would takes many repeat visits. Both have millions of objects d’art and have like 5 million visitors each year. (I was wondering why the other museums I went to weren’t crazy busy. The people were all here, which was fine by me).
After the museum closed, I rushed over and queued at Royal Opera House an hour before curtain, on the off-chance there may be return tickets for the sold out, last performance of the Royal Ballet’s Romeo and Juliet.
I lucked out from a lady who approached me to get rid of her ticket. For £15! I was thu-rilled! So what if it was in the nosebleeds? It was centre-stage in the upper amphitheatre. Completely unobstructed view. And for face value too.
But what trumps any of that? To just be able to watch a performance inside this esteemed opera house. What an experience. The choreography was captivating, the sec dec magnificent and the prima ballerina, Lauren Cuthbertson? You couldn’t take your eyes off her. She was so ethereal, effervescent and so expressive. And yes, we all know how the story plays out, but you’re gutted all the same at the drop of the curtain.
I never heard such thunderous applause. By the end of the night, I felt so satisfied by what I experienced. Then I realized, I’m running out of adjectives to describe all the too many wonderful things here during my visit.
View more photos of my trip on my Flickr album.
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