Two and a half weeks of High-ish to Low-ish London Culture, March 2024
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Two and a half weeks of High-ish to Low-ish London Culture, March 2024
Yes, we were just there in September, but my daughter Hannah and I had a hankering for London. She can’t get enough tango dancing here in St. Louis, hoped to see friends from her school and work time there, and I have never gotten enough London. I bought tickets for LETTERS LIVE at the Royal Albert Hall for March 6 as soon as I saw them on sale a few months in advance, and we made the rest happen. We left Bob, husband and father, home. Not really his thing.
This time we didn’t stay at the Celtic, got instead a flat on Gate St., just behind Holborn Station with a lift, so we could hang out together comfortably. It overlooked a Redemption coffeehouse and the Ship Tavern. Around the corner from good bus routes and an easy walk to Covent Garden and the British Museum.
Hannah wanted to keep her evenings as open as possible for dancing, and we didn’t firm up the dates until a few weeks in advance, so I mostly looked for matinee theatre tickets. We hoped for quality British productions, not American/Hollywood rehashes, not too pricey, in a range between silly and serious, and we mostly succeeded very well. No need to see movie or TV stars.
I’ll mini-review these in a bit, but we saw productions of:
LETTERS LIVE (well, okay, movie and TV persons, but just in short bursts)
THE PLAY THAT GOES WRONG
THE HILLS OF CALIFORNIA
A MIRROR
ALMEIDA THEATRE YOUNG COMPANIES’ PRODUCTION
GUYS AND DOLLS (happily bent British-only-Please rule above)
No operas or ballet. Remaining ROH tickets were wrong evenings and/or far too expensive or Wagner. ENO was one we had seen too recently.
One comedy club night.
One Westminster Abbey Evensong.
This time we didn’t stay at the Celtic, got instead a flat on Gate St., just behind Holborn Station with a lift, so we could hang out together comfortably. It overlooked a Redemption coffeehouse and the Ship Tavern. Around the corner from good bus routes and an easy walk to Covent Garden and the British Museum.
Hannah wanted to keep her evenings as open as possible for dancing, and we didn’t firm up the dates until a few weeks in advance, so I mostly looked for matinee theatre tickets. We hoped for quality British productions, not American/Hollywood rehashes, not too pricey, in a range between silly and serious, and we mostly succeeded very well. No need to see movie or TV stars.
I’ll mini-review these in a bit, but we saw productions of:
LETTERS LIVE (well, okay, movie and TV persons, but just in short bursts)
THE PLAY THAT GOES WRONG
THE HILLS OF CALIFORNIA
A MIRROR
ALMEIDA THEATRE YOUNG COMPANIES’ PRODUCTION
GUYS AND DOLLS (happily bent British-only-Please rule above)
No operas or ballet. Remaining ROH tickets were wrong evenings and/or far too expensive or Wagner. ENO was one we had seen too recently.
One comedy club night.
One Westminster Abbey Evensong.
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I also had hoped to spend a couple of solo days in Bakewell, to visit Haddon Hall again and have another crack at Bakewell Pudding, which my other daughter and I had foolishly delayed until takeaway on the train back to London, 2009. Making seconds impossible. I ended up staying in Greater London the entire time.
Prepared with Pret subscription, Airalo e-sim, walking shoes, almost enough warm clothes.
My first mistake was having gotten a second Airalo e-sim, instead of topping up my old one. I thought I was good to go on wi-fi, when really I had just reconnected to LHR and Holborn Pret. Note to future self: write the front door and lockbox codes on paper, instead of relying on internet in the rain with rolling bag. Redemption came through with their wifi, but it took a couple of days to have Airalo sort me out after various frustrations.
Prepared with Pret subscription, Airalo e-sim, walking shoes, almost enough warm clothes.
My first mistake was having gotten a second Airalo e-sim, instead of topping up my old one. I thought I was good to go on wi-fi, when really I had just reconnected to LHR and Holborn Pret. Note to future self: write the front door and lockbox codes on paper, instead of relying on internet in the rain with rolling bag. Redemption came through with their wifi, but it took a couple of days to have Airalo sort me out after various frustrations.
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I like your show list (didn't know Letters Live was running again). Don't know if I can get back to London in time to see The Hills . . . unless they extend the run. The location of the flat is terrific.
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Ooh! Following along! Sounds like a lovely, long vacation, and your theater list looks interesting. I hope your daughter got in lots of tango dancing. Love the music and watching the dancers. I've taken a class, but am hopelessly uncoordinated. What a lovely talent to have.
Also, interested in the Pret Subscription. How did that work for you? Did you use your rental's UK phone number and address? Seems they allow portable cups/bottles but did you happen to see patrons actually use them? I love that starbucks adds 25 points to every sale as I use a thermos, but in Chicago, I rarely see people take advantage of that perk.
Looking forward to your trip report!
Also, interested in the Pret Subscription. How did that work for you? Did you use your rental's UK phone number and address? Seems they allow portable cups/bottles but did you happen to see patrons actually use them? I love that starbucks adds 25 points to every sale as I use a thermos, but in Chicago, I rarely see people take advantage of that perk.
Looking forward to your trip report!
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I did see people handing baristas their own refill containers a few times. Should do more, of course, but I never did.
There were two Prets near the flat. One just around the alley, and one a block away on Holborn. That one was our local, with its tall ceilings and high windows, almost never crowded, and with that prompt friendly strong latte first thing. Delicious soups, good salads.
Hi, Janis. I follow Letters Live on Instagram, saw that they had one at I think the BAM in NY earlier this month, so getting out and about. The Albert Hall one sold out quickly.
Last edited by stokebailey; Apr 21st, 2024 at 08:31 AM.
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Geetika, you could do a lot worse than our 6 Gate, St Flat 2. One flat per floor, and I think there are law offices upstairs. Customer response was exceptional from Tas at Whitehall Realty. Basic, clean, with Ikea sleeper couch that Hannah said was just fine. Disadvantage in only bathroom access through bedroom. It would have been too noisy for my husband, but I soon got used to street sounds, that swishing alert when trucks back up early to unload kegs. The Ship Tavern crowd spills onto the sidewalk even on wet chilly evenings, and echoes in the canyon of buildings. Good urban sounds.
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Tucked away down an alley. Welcoming atmosphere.
The flower stall at Holborn tube stop. First we got freesias, then daffodils, ended with yellow tulips.
Just off Kingsway, then right at the end to our flat.
Our Holborn Pret.
#9
I've been in the Ship probably a dozen or more times. It is immediately around the corner from Sir John Soane's Museum (one of my faves) and a good friend's law chambers is just just up the way from there. What a great place to be your 'local'.
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Yes, Janis!
LETTERS LIVE: Their having quickly sold out the massive Royal Albert Hall pretty much speaks for itself, but I'll speak about it some more.
It was the day after we arrived in London, and I had by now figured out that my Airalo e-sim was not working. I shot off a series of increasingly frustrated messages to their customer service that afternoon, without reply. Hannah was out with friends, so we had planned to meet at our seats using e-tickets.
It's an easy bus ride from Holborn, and I left plenty of time. When I got to the door, though, I was told that the organizers had "faffed around" and changed the time, now to start 30 min later. An email had been sent with new tickets, but I couldn't think of a way to WhatsApp Hannah. Of course the Hall had open wi-fi, but I was too muddle-headed to think of it. All turned out well. I found reply Airalo messages the next day, got it easily figured out. An e-sim makes life so much easier there, and I still had change from my $5 card when we returned.
The effortlessly charming Benedict Cumberbatch is a constant in these productions, with proceeds to different charities and volunteer unannounced celebrity readers. Cumberbatch's letters this time were all serious, beautifully read. I love his goofy side, but his reading of Navalny's Jan 2024 letter from prison was so moving. UK MP Angela Rayner read a short funny one, then Damien Lewis, Harriet Walter, Louise Brearly, Louisa Harland from Derry Girls. Sara Pascoe read a hilarious letter to an American televangelist asking for clarifications about punishments for Old Testament laws. "I would like to sell my daughter for slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what would be a fair price for her?"
We have better view of the readers on YouTube, but it was so fun for both of us to be there.
Except: we had seats in the choir, just across from the massive organ pipes, to the left of and behind the readers. As someone who from my earliest grade school years has not loved organ music, imagine my dismay when a young woman sat down at the keyboard. Her piece ended with a painfully loud cacophony. Apparently it was very well done, but I declined to applaud. If there's any chance a performance at Royal Albert Hall will include an organ piece, do not get seats in the choir.
LETTERS LIVE: Their having quickly sold out the massive Royal Albert Hall pretty much speaks for itself, but I'll speak about it some more.
It was the day after we arrived in London, and I had by now figured out that my Airalo e-sim was not working. I shot off a series of increasingly frustrated messages to their customer service that afternoon, without reply. Hannah was out with friends, so we had planned to meet at our seats using e-tickets.
It's an easy bus ride from Holborn, and I left plenty of time. When I got to the door, though, I was told that the organizers had "faffed around" and changed the time, now to start 30 min later. An email had been sent with new tickets, but I couldn't think of a way to WhatsApp Hannah. Of course the Hall had open wi-fi, but I was too muddle-headed to think of it. All turned out well. I found reply Airalo messages the next day, got it easily figured out. An e-sim makes life so much easier there, and I still had change from my $5 card when we returned.
The effortlessly charming Benedict Cumberbatch is a constant in these productions, with proceeds to different charities and volunteer unannounced celebrity readers. Cumberbatch's letters this time were all serious, beautifully read. I love his goofy side, but his reading of Navalny's Jan 2024 letter from prison was so moving. UK MP Angela Rayner read a short funny one, then Damien Lewis, Harriet Walter, Louise Brearly, Louisa Harland from Derry Girls. Sara Pascoe read a hilarious letter to an American televangelist asking for clarifications about punishments for Old Testament laws. "I would like to sell my daughter for slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what would be a fair price for her?"
We have better view of the readers on YouTube, but it was so fun for both of us to be there.
Except: we had seats in the choir, just across from the massive organ pipes, to the left of and behind the readers. As someone who from my earliest grade school years has not loved organ music, imagine my dismay when a young woman sat down at the keyboard. Her piece ended with a painfully loud cacophony. Apparently it was very well done, but I declined to applaud. If there's any chance a performance at Royal Albert Hall will include an organ piece, do not get seats in the choir.
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The view from our seats. It filled up slowly, then all at once.
National Portrait mix of old and new ideas of who's important.
God save him.
The stairs to our flat are steep and narrow. I mostly went the elderly lady route. Not Hannah.
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Time for me to get up off the couch, pull up my socks, and say something about the plays. I avoided evening productions, except Letters Live and Hills of California. Hannah craved quality evening tango, and lots of it.
All of the theaters were easy bus rides, though the Bridge was a little more complicated, in Hannah’s old neighborhood.
PLAY THAT GOES WRONG. Pure slapstick fun. Silliness prevails. Paintings fall off walls, and then the walls fall. We had front row seats, never got splashed with water, hit by flying glass or rammed by a runaway desk. I’d recommend for anyone.
HILLS OF CALIFORNIA. We both thought it was excellent (though agreed maybe benefit by being trimmed just a little. ) Sisters reunite in their childhood “Seaview resort” crumblng Blackpool hotel — no view of the sea — as Ma lies upstairs dying. Stage rotates to their teenage past where Ma’s dream is to propel the girls to Andrews Sisters-like stardom. Terrific harmonies from the young actresses. I enjoyed the combination of sad inevitability with humor and music. Hannah not so crazy about the “mother with cancer“ theme. Come up with another sad disease for just awhile, please, scriptwriters. There are plenty of them.
A MIRROR. Okay, I maybe didn’t quite understand everything going on here, like for instance what a wedding had to do with anything, but probably because we showed up for the matinee 15 minutes late thinking we were 15 min early. Kind staff seated us by a monitor, then scooted us and a handful of others in at a convenient break. Jonny Lee Miller and the other actors were excellent.
Set in a totalitarian future where everyone’s every action is scrutinized and consequences for wrong thinking are severe. A dash of 1984, absurdity, and then there was that wedding. We liked it a lot, would go back.
ALMEIDA YOUNG COMPANIES. The Almeida was staging King Lear, and the two companies, teen and older teen/young adult, each riffed a bit on that play. Not that you’d guess it. Fine young talent. I directed Hannah and her 12-17 year old Drama Club classmates’ productions, so we had added interest and sympathy. Plus, this was a matinee that allowed us brunch at Ottolenghi across the street before, coffee at the Workman’s Cafe afterwards. All quality experiences that I’d recommend if you’re in town next time they do it.
GUYS AND DOLLS. Wow. A knockout of a show. The staging, choreography, familiar songs, the energy.
All of the theaters were easy bus rides, though the Bridge was a little more complicated, in Hannah’s old neighborhood.
PLAY THAT GOES WRONG. Pure slapstick fun. Silliness prevails. Paintings fall off walls, and then the walls fall. We had front row seats, never got splashed with water, hit by flying glass or rammed by a runaway desk. I’d recommend for anyone.
HILLS OF CALIFORNIA. We both thought it was excellent (though agreed maybe benefit by being trimmed just a little. ) Sisters reunite in their childhood “Seaview resort” crumblng Blackpool hotel — no view of the sea — as Ma lies upstairs dying. Stage rotates to their teenage past where Ma’s dream is to propel the girls to Andrews Sisters-like stardom. Terrific harmonies from the young actresses. I enjoyed the combination of sad inevitability with humor and music. Hannah not so crazy about the “mother with cancer“ theme. Come up with another sad disease for just awhile, please, scriptwriters. There are plenty of them.
A MIRROR. Okay, I maybe didn’t quite understand everything going on here, like for instance what a wedding had to do with anything, but probably because we showed up for the matinee 15 minutes late thinking we were 15 min early. Kind staff seated us by a monitor, then scooted us and a handful of others in at a convenient break. Jonny Lee Miller and the other actors were excellent.
Set in a totalitarian future where everyone’s every action is scrutinized and consequences for wrong thinking are severe. A dash of 1984, absurdity, and then there was that wedding. We liked it a lot, would go back.
ALMEIDA YOUNG COMPANIES. The Almeida was staging King Lear, and the two companies, teen and older teen/young adult, each riffed a bit on that play. Not that you’d guess it. Fine young talent. I directed Hannah and her 12-17 year old Drama Club classmates’ productions, so we had added interest and sympathy. Plus, this was a matinee that allowed us brunch at Ottolenghi across the street before, coffee at the Workman’s Cafe afterwards. All quality experiences that I’d recommend if you’re in town next time they do it.
GUYS AND DOLLS. Wow. A knockout of a show. The staging, choreography, familiar songs, the energy.
Last edited by stokebailey; May 21st, 2024 at 12:50 PM.
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Harold Pinter Theatre, present day set side that revolves to a crucial earlier time kitchen. Hills of California.
Guys & Dolls curtain call.
Before the musical started; it didn't look promising at that point. It quickly got dynamic.
View leaving the Bridge Theatre. A couple of blocks to our bus stop.
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I was on the fence about Hills of California, but ended up passing on that one. Wish I'd made the time for it. But I loved Guys and Dolls, too! I'd seen it on Broadway and Tokyo years and years ago, but this staging was so clever. I wasn't sure how the stagehands were going to keep people from tripping all over the elevating platforms, but what a great job they did. I was seated but would have been really interesting to be on the floor level. But I think if you're not familiar with the songs and lyrics, it's best to be seated to really take that in. The folks on the ground seemed to be a bit distracted at times in being corralled here and there. Thanks for posting back and sharing the pics!
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I was on the fence about Hills of California, but ended up passing on that one. Wish I'd made the time for it. But I loved Guys and Dolls, too! I'd seen it on Broadway and Tokyo years and years ago, but this staging was so clever. I wasn't sure how the stagehands were going to keep people from tripping all over the elevating platforms, but what a great job they did. I was seated but would have been really interesting to be on the floor level. But I think if you're not familiar with the songs and lyrics, it's best to be seated to really take that in. The folks on the ground seemed to be a bit distracted at times in being corralled here and there. Thanks for posting back and sharing the pics!
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OH, YES, COMEDY CLUB.
Top Secret Comedy Club was an easy walk from our flat, and a good choice for low-commitment entertainment one of our last days: free and £1 shows early evening. The first one was downstairs, a smaller room with a bar, young crowd. The emcee and comedian were sweet, funny, not quite ready for big time. We threw money into the basket as we left for a quick supper at The Real Greek on Long Acre, then returned for the £1 show.
This one was in a larger, packed, humid room on the main floor. Thoughts of air-borne pathogens flit through the medical mind. They seemed to be waiting for all the seats to fill, and the crowd seemed to expect the 30 min delay, squeezing through with precarious pitchers of beer. Visions of bailing out, until finally a jumpy and funny emcee took the stage. He prodded one young man sitting up front to admit he was newly unemployed, which was embarrassing news to his friends. The featured comedian was very good, polished, maybe shows up on those UK TV quiz shows with David Mitchell. We were glad we stayed, but weren’t willing to wait through another lengthy intermission while the audience got more sozzled, so we walked out into the misty night.
COST OF LIVING CRISIS
This phrase came up frequently. If I lived and voted there, I would be on Team Soak-the-Oligarchs-and-Random-Billionaires who enjoy London’s quality of life while paying, I think I’ve heard, not exactly their fair share of taxes.
There were more beggars than six months previously; because of the location? A tag team of bearded men sits at the Tesco entrance. Bodies lie in doorway sleeping bags. Small tent encampment in a Camden park. A Roma-looking woman sits near the Princess Louise. One older woman on Kingsway north of Parker plants her feet, holds you with a glittering eye then thrusts out her upturned palm as you approach. I saw plenty of kind souls giving food and money. (A million years ago, when my other daughter and I stood outside a Fitzrovia pub with late, great Cholmondeley-Warner, he angrily shooed a panhandler away, saying that such people got plenty of help from government services. I don’t know whether that was true then or is now.) Nothing threatening, but noticeable.
One of Hannah’s friends from her Masters program at KCL lives away from the center with 5 roommates. Another one, who works for the Treasury trying to reconcile the PM’s budget proposals with reality, thinks he and his physician fiancée will have to move away to afford housing. Some of Hannah's friends are considering moving north. That, plus the cool and rainy weather and the prospect of a major salary cut, damped her enthusiasm for trying to move back. One more job not to be stolen by an outsider, anyway.
Top Secret Comedy Club was an easy walk from our flat, and a good choice for low-commitment entertainment one of our last days: free and £1 shows early evening. The first one was downstairs, a smaller room with a bar, young crowd. The emcee and comedian were sweet, funny, not quite ready for big time. We threw money into the basket as we left for a quick supper at The Real Greek on Long Acre, then returned for the £1 show.
This one was in a larger, packed, humid room on the main floor. Thoughts of air-borne pathogens flit through the medical mind. They seemed to be waiting for all the seats to fill, and the crowd seemed to expect the 30 min delay, squeezing through with precarious pitchers of beer. Visions of bailing out, until finally a jumpy and funny emcee took the stage. He prodded one young man sitting up front to admit he was newly unemployed, which was embarrassing news to his friends. The featured comedian was very good, polished, maybe shows up on those UK TV quiz shows with David Mitchell. We were glad we stayed, but weren’t willing to wait through another lengthy intermission while the audience got more sozzled, so we walked out into the misty night.
COST OF LIVING CRISIS
This phrase came up frequently. If I lived and voted there, I would be on Team Soak-the-Oligarchs-and-Random-Billionaires who enjoy London’s quality of life while paying, I think I’ve heard, not exactly their fair share of taxes.
There were more beggars than six months previously; because of the location? A tag team of bearded men sits at the Tesco entrance. Bodies lie in doorway sleeping bags. Small tent encampment in a Camden park. A Roma-looking woman sits near the Princess Louise. One older woman on Kingsway north of Parker plants her feet, holds you with a glittering eye then thrusts out her upturned palm as you approach. I saw plenty of kind souls giving food and money. (A million years ago, when my other daughter and I stood outside a Fitzrovia pub with late, great Cholmondeley-Warner, he angrily shooed a panhandler away, saying that such people got plenty of help from government services. I don’t know whether that was true then or is now.) Nothing threatening, but noticeable.
One of Hannah’s friends from her Masters program at KCL lives away from the center with 5 roommates. Another one, who works for the Treasury trying to reconcile the PM’s budget proposals with reality, thinks he and his physician fiancée will have to move away to afford housing. Some of Hannah's friends are considering moving north. That, plus the cool and rainy weather and the prospect of a major salary cut, damped her enthusiasm for trying to move back. One more job not to be stolen by an outsider, anyway.
Last edited by stokebailey; May 24th, 2024 at 08:53 AM.
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Enjoying your post. My cousins have invited me to join them in London during winter 2025 so I am following to see how cold you were and read about your activities. They want to focus on theatre and museum as well as a few tea times. Sounds good to me!
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Oh, yes, Scoot. Don't miss it. I've been in London all times of year, and it never really gets that cold. Cyclamens bloom in window boxes in December, in that microclimate. Light layers, including a cashmere sweater if you have one, an umbrella just in case, and you're set. It was cloudy and cool when we were there in April, so we didn't spend as much time lazing on park benches as we had the previous September.
SKY GARDEN
Do book your free tickets in advance or take your chances without. We arrived a little late, after our timed entry, and didn't have to wait in queue. Stunning limited view in the fog. I had planned to take a book, go by myself if necessary, but Hannah and I made a morning of it, had lunch afterwards at Pilpel, fast Middle Eastern food at Leadenhall Market. Nice.
MUSEUMS, OF COURSE
SOANE'S
We were fortunate to be an easy walk from some great ones, including the Sir John Soane's as Janis mentions, just around the corner. I had never visited that quirky one. Luckily Soane had made it impossible for his surviving, disappointing son to inherit their townhouse that was instead turned into a museum for the people. I went just as it opened, my purse into the plastic bag provided at the door to prevent stray straps from catching on the artwork. After the entry hall, architect Soane's library where there's a large painting of a woman shielding her face. I decided the model must have been Emma Hart, Lady Hamilton, and had fun conversations about her with docents my two visits. She was a fascinating creature, ultimately shafted after Lord Nelson's death.
I'm not normally claustrophobic, but the first time I went I felt overwhelmed, bailed out without going upstairs. Photography is allowed, but not sketching for some quirky reason. Fear of pencils near busts, mustaches? Luckily I didn't know that rule, found a quiet bench behind Apollo and sketched his backside. When Hannah and I went back another day, I had learned that the rear of the house was for students to sketch and learn, was prepared for the overabundance of sculpture. We went upstairs, heard stories about Soane's sons and admired their portraits. All the guides there have fascinating stories.
SKY GARDEN
Do book your free tickets in advance or take your chances without. We arrived a little late, after our timed entry, and didn't have to wait in queue. Stunning limited view in the fog. I had planned to take a book, go by myself if necessary, but Hannah and I made a morning of it, had lunch afterwards at Pilpel, fast Middle Eastern food at Leadenhall Market. Nice.
MUSEUMS, OF COURSE
SOANE'S
We were fortunate to be an easy walk from some great ones, including the Sir John Soane's as Janis mentions, just around the corner. I had never visited that quirky one. Luckily Soane had made it impossible for his surviving, disappointing son to inherit their townhouse that was instead turned into a museum for the people. I went just as it opened, my purse into the plastic bag provided at the door to prevent stray straps from catching on the artwork. After the entry hall, architect Soane's library where there's a large painting of a woman shielding her face. I decided the model must have been Emma Hart, Lady Hamilton, and had fun conversations about her with docents my two visits. She was a fascinating creature, ultimately shafted after Lord Nelson's death.
I'm not normally claustrophobic, but the first time I went I felt overwhelmed, bailed out without going upstairs. Photography is allowed, but not sketching for some quirky reason. Fear of pencils near busts, mustaches? Luckily I didn't know that rule, found a quiet bench behind Apollo and sketched his backside. When Hannah and I went back another day, I had learned that the rear of the house was for students to sketch and learn, was prepared for the overabundance of sculpture. We went upstairs, heard stories about Soane's sons and admired their portraits. All the guides there have fascinating stories.