A Thanksgiving Trip
Visiting My Daughter and Sharing London And Amsterdam
By: Mark Favermann - Dec 01, 2007
I started out on Tuesday morning 11/20/07 at about 7:30 AM. My erstwhile assistant Emmett was supposed to be at my studio at 6:45. He showed up at 7, and luckily there was no traffic. I made my flight which was at 9:15. Nothing unusual except flight was delayed for some reason, and I arrived at Heathrow at about 8:30. I took the Piccadilly Line subway into Russell Square. The cost was 4 pounds or about $8.50. This was good but it was too crowded and took over an hour. Also, as I was wearing a shirt, sweater, a blazer and a topcoat, and I had to walk half of mile with my suitcases, I got very sweaty. Big guys often sweat a lot.
Evan met me at the Russell Square tube stop. She looked great and was very happy to see me the first time since mid-September. I was very excited to see her. We walked to my small hotel nearby and shortly found an Indian restaurant that was open after 10 PM. The food was fine. My room was small but quite adequate and very well situated--close to tube stations, bus lines and Evan's campus, University College, University of London.
The next day Wed, Evan had classes. Breakfast was quite good at the hotel and was included in the rate. I had a mission to do for my friend George White. He had asked me to deliver a camera and a Nano Ipod to the Secretary of Prime Minister Gordon Brown's Cabinet, Edward Milliband, a former student of George's when Ed's father was a visiting professor at Brandeis University. In return for my good deed, I was suppose to receive directions, a number, etc. to a person involved in the 2012 London Olympics. As one of the designers of the 1996 Centennial Games in Atlanta, I would like to be a consultant to the British effort. This was reneged upon by Easy Ed. It had something to do with this not being under his purview or something similar. Good deeds often go unrewarded. This schlep certainly did not get me anywhere. I went to the cabinet office at White Hall and was kept waiting for 25 minutes by an office assistant who finally came down to pick up George's presents to Ed and his lady wife. George should have mailed them.
I then walked around Trafalgar Square and Leicster Square. I picked up half price tickets to "Shadowlands," a play about children's book author C.S. Lewis and his lover/wife Joy Gresham. It is a sad, poignant story. Actor Charles Dance and Janie Dee were in the version that Evan and I went to see at Wyndham's Theatre next to the Leicster Square tube stop. I took pictures of a bad piece of public art at Trafalgar Square. I tried to eat at the National Portrait Gallery restaurant, but there were no window seats, and the staff acted rather rudely. That's another story for another time. I went to a couple of art book stores to browse and picked up a beautifully produced Italian architecture and art magazine, Domus. This was after I tried to visit London's Institute of Contemporary Art which had no current exhibits. I guess that it has become a performance/film space. The Royal Academy was closed until January when it will be showing a major exhibit from the Hermitage Museum in Moscow. The Tate Modern had shows that I had already seen in the states. So much for art in London in November. At least, I thought this at the time.
I met Evan after 4 PM, and on our way to an early dinner, we went to see a great exhibit at the British Library, "Breaking the Rules." This exhibition explored Europe's Avant Garde creative revolution from 1900-1937. It was simply amazing with aqll of the original source materials taken from the Library's collections. Mainly through the medium of print, "Breaking the Rules" throws new light on Cubism, Expressionism, Futurism, Dadaism, Suprematism, Constructivism, Surrealism and other movements; on the artists who changed the face of modern culture forever; and on the cities that experienced their work, from Brussels to Budapest, Vienna to Vitebsk. You can find art when you aren't even looking for it. This outstanding exhibit was well worth the failed explorations of earlier in the day. Evan got a kick out of the fact that she had studied some of the material in an art history course she had taken last semester at Harvard.
We ate late lunch/dinner at the ubiquitous Pizza Express. It too was very expensive for what we got. We then took the tube to Leicster Square and saw the excellent if not a bit sad "Shadowlands." We had great seats. I didn't even nod off as I am known to do sometimes in theatre. The next day was Thanksgiving.
Again, I ate breakfast at the hotel and left early for magnificent St. Paul's Cathedral. This was created by Sir Christopher Wren between 1675 and 1710. Each year, there is a nondenominational Thanksgiving Service for Americans on Thanksgiving Day. I got there early. I saw the bomb-sniffing dogs and the police anti-terrorists staff go through the cathedral. After passing through metal detectors, I got a seat right under the dome near the American embassy and diplomatic staff. The cathedral was truly very impressive--remember Diana and Charles were married there. Eventually about 2000 other Americans joined me. The service took about an hour. The American ambassador spoke, we sang God Bless America, a US Marine honor guard marched in with the colors and an American clergyman blew his chances at making a great sermon before a major crowd.
The silly sermon was uninspired and underwhelming in content and presentation by this hapless man of God. However, I left uplifted by the overall event if not by the lukewarm sermon. I ate lunch at Wagamomma's, the fusion/Japanese restaurant. Unlike in the past, I felt that I had overpaid and was rather unsatisfied by the meal.
I met up with Evan around 6 PM. She had made reservations at a pub in Chelsea to share Thanksgiving with about 30 or 40 American ex-pats. We had no idea where the place was. Dinner was to start at around 7 PM. We took a tube to South Kensington and walked for about a mile through Chelsea. We eventually got to the King's Road (we probably should have gone to Sloan Square at the top of the King's Road). Here we stopped in a pub to ask directions. We were directed toward another pub that was the competitor of the one we wanted to find. Anyway, we kept walking. It rained.
We got to the first pub and a fellow outside smoking a cigarette (no smoking inside pubs in UK now) directed us down the street, through an alley and a right turn to where we were finally going. When we entered the pub, we were directed into an open ceiling back room where there was a long table with a bunch of American ex-patriots and English spouses or significant others seated. Evan and I found seats at one end of the table. After several minutes of close-by introductions, I tapped on my glass and asked everyone to introduce themselves. This went very well. Then a tall older man formally from Texas said grace. I then asked everyone to say why each was thankful. I said that I was thankful to be in London with my daughter Evan.
Dinner was served: turkey, yams, vegetable, and a little what they called cranberry jam. The pecan pie was passable but the weakest part of the meal. Next to us was an older (late 50's or early 60's), sophisticated woman formally from NYC who did pr and marketing for Italian companies, a very British (educated at Winchester) former investment banker (mid 60's) and his girlfriend (late 50's) from Texas who sold architectural antiques. We all shared bottles of sparkling wine and convivial conversation. Evan and I got up around 10:30 to leave.
As we walked through the pub, Evan pointed out two nice looking rather tall young (late 20's) men who were wearing Red Sox caps. I asked them where they got their caps. In very American English, one said that he got them in Boston. We introduced ourselves and then were offered drinks (we each got a pint of cider) and chatted for awhile. One was an investment banker for Goldman-Sachs who lived nearby and the other worked for the State Department in Saudi Arabia. We eventually said good-bye. Evan seemed delighted that we had met them.
Somehow, we found a bus that got us more or less close to where we were staying. Evan went back to her dorm on the bus. I needed directions to the tube station. The English can be quite standoffish. One young man told me after asking him three times (the first two times, I included please) that I needed to be more polite. I explained to him that it was not clear to me that he even spoke English, and who was he to tell me how to ask for directions? He refused to help me. I tried another guy who just kept walking. The impertinent first one yelled something at me. I yelled back at him that he should do something by himself to his anatomy. A third fellow, perhaps a little drunk actually gave me directions to the appropriate tube stop.
Eventually, I arrived at my hotel after 12 AM. There was no one at the desk. Early the next morning, Evan and I were going to Amsterdam for three days.
End of Part I