To the stones

That is to say, to the Stonehenge exhibition at the British Museum. A bright sunny morning, but a late start due to a domestic kerfuffle. Hopefully the Museum would stretch our timed tickets past the stated time.

After some discussion - without whiteboard in this occasion - we settled on tube from Waterloo to Tottenham Court Road, a choice which turned out to involve rather a long walk under Waterloo Station. On a par with the long walks to be had these days under Victoria Station and King Cross and all part of the price to be paid for fancy new tube lines. Perhaps I looked tired after the walk, as I was offered a seat on the tube by a cheerful young man who would not take no for an answer.

Out at Tottenham Court Road, past the Dominion Theatre which we last visited to see some traditional Georgian dancing, possibly the State Dance Company of Georgia and probably well over twenty years ago now, and took a right into Great Russell Street. To be impressed by the size, the number plate and the reserved parking spot for the High Commissioner for Barbados, H.E. Mr. Milton Innis.

From there, on past the HQ of the once important Trade Union Congress, decorated with a large and remarkably ugly statue over their porch. A statue which looks a lot better in Street View, captured above, than it did in real life, from the pavement.

Needing to refuel before starting on the stones, we chanced upon the Café Babka, where we were able to take excellent tea and cake, this last some kind of a sponge with a meringue topping. We also had a twin engined propeller plane overhead. Quite a lot bigger than the sort of thing you might learn to fly in, perhaps the size of a small second world war bomber. But what was it and what was it doing there?

We wondered about the backstory of the bit of townscape above. The terrace left probably predates the museum right, so why is it chopped off like that? Surely that wasn't the best they could do when the land for the museum was first bought?

The Museum website not terribly helpful on the history of the building, although it does seem that its building spanned the second quarter of the 19th century. Satellite View in gmaps, suggests that the western pavilion, not present in the snap above, but loud and clear in the one above that, was a later addition.

The chaps who eventually checked us into the exhibition did not seem to care in the least about the time on our ticket, some hours prior to our time of arrival. Rather, they seemed amused that we thought that they would.

I took one of the folding chairs on offer, a first for me. But it was surprisingly comfortable and facilitated breaks in the proceedings. The only problem with these chairs was that some people used them to park themselves smack in front of some exhibit that caught their eye.

And so into the darkened exhibition area. Which I found a bit tiresome. As was the sound track attached to some art work about tree trunks in the sand. Possibly something to do with woodhenge.

The good news is that there were plenty of interesting objects on show. Including all kinds of strange and wonderful things that I had not come across before.

I spent the most time with the axes, some of which are snapped above, some of which appeared to be luxury or cult objects, not intended to be used for chopping down trees. Just one example of the large amount of surplus labour that was available for cultural rather than subsistence activities. Perhaps at the time there were still plenty of animals around to be caught and eaten. No need to spend all day chasing after the few.

I puzzled about the hafting of some of the large axes, accomplishing by drilling a circular hole in the stone. One could see why the hole would be circular, but would the axe head not turn on its haft? With the heads of pickaxe handles being more oblong than circular. Maybe I will run down an account of moderns playing stone age and see how they got on.

Then we had the stone balls, some with elaborate ornamentation, from Aberdeen.

The strange gold hats - if indeed that is what they were. 

The sun flavoured golden collars.

The curiously engraved razor blades.

Part of the story seems to be that communal building of large henges went out of fashion, as soon as technology had advanced enough to make elaborate possessions, like hats and collars. Not yet convinced.

Far too much stuff to take in in one visit. But we have got the book of the exhibition, and we shall be going again later this month.

Out to find some lunch, on the way noticing a number of security staff wearing TSS flashes, that is to say the people at reference 1. But I found a chap who explained to me that most of the security staff were proper civil servants, but various odd jobs, mostly to do with special events, were farmed out to the likes of TSS. Hourly rates paid by the museum no doubt far in excess of what the civil servants were paid, but one can see the convenience of using agencies for top-up. Just so long as they don't become an overpaid chunk of the regular work force, as seems to be the case in much of the NHS.

We landed at Il Castelletto in Bury Place, quiet in the middle of the afternoon, but serviceable. With two interesting shops opposite. White bread much better than average. Then salmon for her, rather good; Saltimbocca alla Romana for me, not so good. Said to be a famous Roman dish, in this case probably fresh out of the freezer. It looked quite good, but the veal was a bit dry and tough and the sauce was far too sweet for me.

This entirely satisfactory wine is to be found near reference 7.

They could do grappa, and they did know about special glasses, something approaching one of the fancy grappa glasses we first saw at the Caffe Caldesi in Marylebone, although they did not actually have one. As noticed at reference 5.

Entertained inside by the large Italian lady who cooked. We first came across her popping out for a fag break.

While outside we had two ladies in serious Muslim attire, mostly black, but also managing to be a fashion statement at the same time. Rather fetching and not at all dowdy. Faces fully visible.

Out to stroll along to Kingsway to catch a bus. Passing the people above who might have a very grand front door, but who could not be bothered to fix up their plate properly.

Various blocks of red brick mansion flats, I think operated by the Peabody Trust of reference 8.

Presumably the entrance to what I now think is the Kingsway tram tunnel of reference 7.

Catching a bus turned out to mean walking down, past Holborn tube station to reach a bus stop. The upside being that I got three packs of French beans from the fruit & veg stall there for the sum of £1. They turned out to be rather better quality than a lot of those for which one pays a lot more at Sainsbury's, despite the plastic packing.

References

Reference 1: https://totalsecurity.co.uk/. Total Security Services is part of:

Reference 2: https://www.g4s.com. G4 Security is part of:

Reference 3: https://www.aus.com/. Allied Universal, a US operation which has spread out to Canada, Mexico and the UK, amongst other places. One big happy family.

Reference 4: https://ilcastelletto-london.business.site/.

Reference 5: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2019/09/beethoven-250.html.

Reference 6: https://www.ltmuseum.co.uk/whats-on/hidden-london/kingsway-tram-tunnel-linking-london.

Reference 7: https://www.pieromancini.it/i-vini/vermentino-di-gallura-docg/.

Reference 8a: https://www.peabody.org.uk/.

Reference 8b: https://www.peabody.org.uk/about-us/who-we-are/our-heritage/george-peabody.

Reference 8c: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_Peabody. Started out in a shop in Massachusetts, became a successful banker and philanthropist. This despite some funny business with bonds from Maryland. Spent most of his later life in England. His bank went on to be various brands of Morgan.