London Finale

Sadly, the London chapter is about to close. I'm leaving this city feeling very good about it and sure that it won't be long before I'm back. I can imagine living here.

Tomorrow--the plot thickens--I leave for Paris!

These last few days I've been able to buy into the fantasy that I do actually live here. It's been kind of a lush life with the dog and this beautiful house (is it a flat if it's got more than one floor?). While watching TV last weekend I saw some show with this singer/songwriter named Mika on it and I was oddly compelled. Then I found out that he was giving a free show Monday night, so I went into town for that. It was good, but disappointing since he only sang three songs. I had never heard of him before, but maybe he's already an underground sensation in the US? Kind of in the vein of Rufus Wainwright, Queen, Elton John, etc.; I think he calls it 'powerpop.'

After the show I had arranged to meet with my friend Ilsa's friend Matthew. We went to dinner at a decent Italian place and then to a pub. This was lots of fun. He manages the UK branch of Nonesuch Records and offered to send me some CDs; instead, I stopped by his office to pick them up the next day. I walked away with a tote bag full of some incredible music.

Last night, I wanted to see another play--I really wanted to see The Seagull, but had no luck getting a ticket--and so Matthew joined me for my second viewing of _Rock 'n' Roll_; it was just as good, if not better, the second time. Also, yesterday, on the advise of another friend named Matthew, I visited a little bookstore called Persephone Books. They are a small publisher of reissued 19th and early-mid 20th century women's fiction and nonfiction (very similar to The Feminist Press, where I used to work), and the packaging is absolutely gorgeous. I bought two old cookbooks, one called _Plats du Jour_ and the other called _Kitchen Essays_. I've only skimmed them so far, but they are very fun.

In sum, these are a few observations from my time in London. I'll add more as I think of them.
- Men here consume a lot of the world's hairgel (and designer jeans, too)
- When you blow your nose, the snot is black
- The pedestrian does not have the right of way
- Cilantro is called coriander and arugula is called rocket
- An ounce in the US is not the same as an ounce in the UK

And today I've been lazily gathering up all my things, doing laundry, getting packed, listening to all my new CDs, and reading James's _Washington Square_. It's been fun. I started drinking wine earlier than usual, in preparation for Paris.

RLJ

Just a quick interlude... Ricke Lee Jones's new album _The Sermon on Exposition Boulevard_, was out yesterday. It's kind of a leap off into the deep end, but there's a neat article in Monday's New York Times! Also, she's going to be on David Letterman on Feb 12--would anyone be able to tape it for me?

London V

I took this picture just before Princess Basket left for the weekend with some friends of Dilys and Tass. In the few days that I spent with Basket, I've taken more pictures of her than of all my Europe pictures combine. It's a compulsion; I can't help myself.

Friday was a terrific day. I had wanted to take a cooking class in London but waited until the last minute to do any research. I was very lucky to find Ren, who teaches private Indian Cookery classes, and she squeezed me in. (You can visit her website here.) For four hours, I learned about Indian cooking and got to know Ren a bit, and best of all, I came home with a grocery bag full of the food I had prepared: a delicious chicken curry, saag paneer, and vegetable samosas. It was delicious and is all gone.

Then that night I went to Sadler's Wells for an evening of samples from their Spring and Fall dance season, which was a great introduction to some European/UK choreography. I was really impressed by: a UK dance group called Random Dance, Joson Samuels Smith's US tap dance group (I will look into them when I'm back), and the UK choreogropher Hofeesh Shecter--this guy is really good, though a little verbose. Hip-hop dance theater was also included, with a French group called Vagabond Crew. It is remarkable to watch--it's got the structure and thematic organization of modern dance with a lot of shockingly impossible breakdancing--even if a little full of itself (there, I said it), but then again maybe not exactly my thing.

Saturday was a gorgeous day in London, and I went back to Notting Hill to see the Portabello Street Market. Lots of antiques and LOTS of people, and also some produce and other foods. I also spent more time walking around Notting Hill, which I think is such a beautiful neighborhood, and then came back to Islington, found a wine bar, and read a book. Then I came to the house and made butternut squash risotto and watched three back-to-back episodes of Desperate Housewives.

I'm not sure what the plan is for today, but I realize that I haven't got a lot of time left to see the theater I want to see, so I'm going to check that out. And I'm still dying to see Notes on a Scandal.

London IV

So I've just posted some pictures. It's kind of a drag to upload them, so I interspersed them in the posts where they belong; you'll have to scroll through the old posts if you're interested in seeing them.

I think that the greatest merit of traveling this way (I guess it would define it as traveling kind of ignorantly: though I've got a tall stack of guide books and an abstract idea of what I want to do here, I really know very little about the cities I'm visiting) is that there's endless opportunities for me to be surprised. This has happened everywhere so far--in Venice and Barcelona, coming around corners to find breathtaking cathedrals, and in London to suddenly come face to face with a favorite Jackson Pollack--and it is absolutely thrilling. I've always wanted to see the Taj Mahal, but I imagine that it wouldn't be nearly as great to plan a trip to the monument as it would if I were to trip it unexpectedly.

Last night I had the pleasure of 'stumbling' upon a play. It is called 'There Came a Gypsy Riding' by Frank McGuinnness. I knew of the theater (the Almeida), where all sorts of world class stuff has happened, and I know a bit about Frank McGuinness; but I didn't know that Eileen Atkins and Imedlda Staunton were in it. Though the play has flaws, I think I saw a once-in-a-lifetime performance. Actors absolutely giving their everything. It was truly amazing. I love this.

Otherwise, I'm carrying on with Princess Basket (actually, her name is just Basket, but I like the 'Princess' part). Yesterday I took her off her leash at the park. She went wandering in the bushes and dug up some unidentifiable bone. I then spent upwards of an hour chasing her around a large round rose garden, trying to get her to mind me and give up the bone. She'd have none of it. I know now that I have my share of humility: not many people could take themselves seriously while running in circles around a rose garden screaming 'BEEFY TREAT! BEEFY TREAT!' (with a sandwich bag of poop dangling in hand, too). This was my attempt at enticing the dog to behave.

London III

My dogsitting stint has begun. I have figured out how to upload photos and will do so either today or tomorrow; I'll include here a picture of Princess Basket. She is almost unbearably adorable. And for the first time, I'm sharing my bed with a dog. Usually they want nothing to do with me.

I'm adopting a new pace with the dogsitting, minding the gorgeous home where I'd been staying in London, going on walks several times a day with the pup, playing with and gathering up noisy dog toys, doing some cooking, even watching a bit of TV. This has been fun.

I returned to London on Friday night. Dilys and Tass took me for dinner to a nearby gastropub--I think it qualifies as a gastropub--and we had a really good meal. Then they took off the next morning. Among the exciting things I did: laundry, made soup, walked Basket, bought two books, and watched Will & Grace. Sunday I did some writing--I've resolved to do at least an hour each day that I'm here--and more cooking (I'm becoming slightly obsessed with Nigel Slater), and I also saw Babel. I'd love to talk to someone about the movie. I'm not sure how I feel, but I don't think I was too impressed.

Yesterday I did some of the same, and in the afternoon ventured out to Kensington. It's a very affluent neighborhood, obviously. I popped in Regent's Park, walked around, went through Harrod's, and then stopped at a cafe to do some reading. Last night I met up with my friend Erin's boyfriend's friends Markland and Ed. Markland has a band named Sleeping States (here's the band's website), which had a show at a pub in Shoreditcth. I managed to walk there from the house and really enjoyed myself. Markland is very taleted. You should check out the band. We might all meet up again next week.

Today I'm going to try to see another play, Amy's View, I think, and maybe make it back over to the Tate Modern.

Venice, or 'More Cheap Wine!'

I arrived in Venice on Tuesday night. Just as the bus dropped me off in the city, it began to rain, and it was dark, and due to the crap map of the city that is in my Let's Go guide, I was having a lot of trouble finding my hotel. I wandered around for more than an hour, crossing the same bridges over and over again, going in an out of alleys that were eerily familiar, worried that I was getting seriously lost and would have to camp out on the streets for my first night. With my foot not any better and my stomach growling, I was at the point of either crumbling on the pavement into a ball of sobs and moans or slaughtering something when I looked up, and like some damn omen, there was my hotel, right smack in front of me.



By the next morning, a gorgeous, crisp day, Venice appeared to me as the brilliant maze I was hoping it would be. I walked a great deal. The night before, I had met a few ladies from Munich who assured me that 'you can't get lost in Venice,' even though I had just an hour earlier, but I still took their word and just started walking. I bought a good map, too. I stumbled upon the fish market, a great deal of shops selling watches, blown glass, clothes, and wine, I found the Piazza San Marco, and took a ferry boat thing through the Grand Canal. I found a fantastic little wine shop where wine was sold in enormous barrels and for 2.94 euro, I got a 1.5 liter bottle (a recycled water bottle, even) of pinio grigio that was delicious. It was a difficult task to finish the whole thing in the two days while I stayed at my hotel, but I rose to the occasion.

For dinner that night I went walking in the San Croce district, where I found a place called Osteria Moncenigo. (I had been given restaurant recommendations, but I still don't understand how addresses work in this city; it is absolutely impossible to find anything that isn't already marked on my map.) I had--for 1.8 euro--a half litre of the house white (delicious), a primi of paparbelle granceto asparagi (also delicious, a light, flat and wide noodle pasta with asparagus), and 'seppie in nero con polenta': I didn't know what seppie was, but I did want to have polenta at some point in Italy. It turns out that seppie is a squid-like fish called scuttlefish. It was clearly very fresh, and the black sauce that it was cooked in was made from the scuttlefish's ink sacks. Apparently it's a local specialty. I enjoyed being adventurous, but doubt I'd order it again.

The next day it snowed. I was tempted to stay in with my pinio grigio and my book (I just finished _Notes on a Scandal_), but I forced myself out into the storm and for the first half hour or so I was pretty miserable. But then I hooked myself up to my ipod, played some Van Morrison, and, despite being ill prepared for snow and really irritated with the deceptively deep puddles everywhere, I experienced a sort of willful surrender to the moment. I found myself seriously enjoying getting lost. I stopped in a small market and bought bread, a local Gorgonzola cheese, and some delicious salami, and then found my way back to my hotel, laid out my meal on my bed, poured a glass of pinio grigio, and had probably one of the best afternoons of my life.



I found another out-of-the way restaurant, Oggi al Timon, and had amazing lasagne for dinner; it was so delicate and the cheese was so ripe, almost like souffle..... I've never had anything like it. Then I ordered another polenta plate, but this time it came drenched in a Gruyere-like cheese that was a bit rich for me, but still very good.

And this afternoon I'm returning to London, to start the dogsitting stint. I'm looking forward to my slippers and seeing a few movies. And I'm going to start reading some Henry James.

Kippers

The salted fish in my salad from the restaurant in Barcelona are called Kippers.