Back to Flaneur’ing:

Yesterday Mrs W and I ventured to the City via The Drain from Waterloo. Walking around I was struck by how quiet the place was, clearly many are still working from home. Most of the high end lunch spots that would have been heaving three years ago  barely had a customer in them. A few suit wearers wandering around but very few with ties.  As expense account dining is not an option for me  I had to make do with some very tasty Ethiopian scoff in Spitalfields Market. Again, that place was a shadow of its former self with most of the vintage stalls gone and a predominance of cheap arty, crafty stuff aimed at tourists I’d guess. Still, I consoled myself with an excellent pint of London Pride in The Pride of Spitalfields. The interior has numerous old photographs on display; I was looking at one of a glamorous young woman sitting at the bar, the landlady proudly told me the subject was a famous Page 3 girl, Kathy Lloyd who had done a sales promotion at the pub. I replied that I hadn’t been able to recognise her as she had her clothes on in the picture.

I wonder what the City will be like in three or four years time? Having wandered gently back to Waterloo I felt the need for further consolation in the shape of a pint of Adnams in the excellent Kings Arms in time-capsule  Roupell Street - where the small houses go for around £1.3 million.

https://livinglondonhistory.com/the-beautiful-london-street-where-time-has-stood-still/

There are some classic Citreons shown in the picture on the above link. A guy who lives there owns about four which are permanently parked in the scant residents parking. His neighbours must hate him.

I used to walk down Roupell Street every morning on my way to school, just round the corner on Stamford Street (yes yes, I'm a London Nautical Boy..). A special treat was shortbread from Konditor and Cook who had their first shop on the corner of Roupell St and Cornwall Road. The older lads would have come via The Cut, where there was a tobacconist willing to overlook our age when it came to purchasing "snouts".

Konditor and Cook always looked a bit pricey. I never went in there. I used to love the old Citroens DS21 etc that someone parked up, running a business from the arches probably.

Had lunch yesterday in an old Polish restaurant in South Kensington. There are strong Polish connections to the area. Lots of kids going to the museums in the school holidays.

Afterwards, we had a look in Brompton Oratory. All the statues were covered for Lent. An organist was playing. I spotted a man with a cap on, which is unusual in a church. I thought he was a workman. After a while I realised he was a nutcase climbing onto altars, removing coverings, lighting candles. There were a couple of church people looking at him. I asked if the police had been called. Answer ‘Yes, twenty minutes ago’. I asked if they wanted assistance in removing him. They said ‘No’. Eventually police turned up. One was a proper big copper. Lots of cars and then a wagon to take him away.

He was a white man and did not seem to be a Muslim. Strange times.

‘Care in the Community’ was a terrible, cost-cutting measure dressed up as modern thinking.

The Epsom Triangle of mental hospitals were well-built institutions that served a purpose, despite misgivings about some of the treatment. They have all now been flogged off and new housing estates have sprung up in their place.

Refused entry to Wetherspoon at noon on Sunday. The William Morris, Hammersmith. Not my fault. They were full! At noon !

Walked down King Street which is ruined for cars with roadworks and huge chunks set aside for cyclists. Walked past The Ram(Young’s) on my way to the Big Smoke pub in Dalling Road. Noticed the other spoon - Plough and Harrow. Plenty of room; nobody denying entry. Short on staff, so did the usual trick of buying two pints to save going back again.

Spoons users here may be interested to know that the expensive Leffe can be included as a free drink with a meal. I may switch from Guinness.

Chiswick High Street had an ‘antiques’ etc market. It looked like a load of old toot but I was not looking to buy anyway. Life’s too short for charity shops TK Maxx etc. Overheard a woman say it was a nice place to ‘meander’. A good word.

I was wearing a Morlands sheepskin, brown suede chukka boots, a dark blue Harvie Hudson shirt and navy merino v neck from uniqlo. A bit like a stereotype of an off duty policeman.

Warwick is a good Clifton-Taylor town in the Midlands. No need to go inside the castle. Unfortunately we missed the church which had strange opening hours.

We bumped into Nigel Saul and his wife on our last visit to Ashbourne church (to examine the alabaster tombs).  Now retired, Saul was probably our leading medievalist.  He was taking photographs of label-stops.  We found we knew a few people in common, including Colin Richmond, who has latterly focused on Jewish history and with whom I took the specialist course on the Holocaust - one of the first undergraduates to do so.
So, you see, life isn't all coffee, red vino and Johnny Simons veneration.

Today, to Felley Priory, just over the border into Nottinghamshire, for my wife to buy shrubs.  A surprising place given its proximity to the old Nottinghamshire coalfield.  A Tudor building surrounded by rather pleasant, unpretentious countryside. 
Then to Eastwood and Langley Mill: D.H.Lawrence country and the former stamping ground of some of my own family.  Langley Mill has an excellent eaterie called 'Basilia' (triple decker sandwiches of pastrami, emmental, pickles etc.).  Just along the street, a massive record shop also offering hundreds of books on music and Hollywood.  I picked up a biography of Hoagy Carmichael for a couple of pounds.
Then to Meynell Langley, bordering Kedleston, with its stunning neo-classical south front by Robert Adam (and others).  Beautiful countryside, considering it is so close to the urban sprawl of Derby.

Alvey, Langley Mill is about a thirty minute drive across country from Matlock and Lea Bridge: on the border with Nottinghamshire.  It has a bad reputation locally so 'Basilia' comes as a surprise. 
I'm pining for bagels too - my diet rules them out entirely! 
I read about the Bond/Hoagy Carmichael connection in a book called 'James Bond 007: A Report' just about the time I was taking my Eleven-Plus.  I'd never heard of Hoagy Carmichael then, although I was already a keen moviegoer and was beginning to watch old films on TV.  Sunday afternoons were good: football, followed by a matinee.  Then I saw him in a movie with, I think, Bogart and Bacall.
Bond to me was always Connery - then I began taking a dislike to him.  I find the films pretty unwatchable nowadays and the books something of a bore aside from brief passages (like the opening of 'From Russia With Love', describing the personality of Grant).  I can't abide Daniel Craig. 
Enough already.  My wife and I are currently working through two-thirds (at least) of the Bette Davis catalogue on DVD.

Whilst wandering one of the side streets of Amsterdam looking for a shop my wife wanted to visit,I came across a gentlemen’s furnishers called The English Hatter. A bit of a timewarp premises that specialises in British mens clothing. The proprietor told me it was unchanged for 35 years and became quite enthused over a Grenfell harrington I was wearing. It was their sale and I was sorely tempted by a William Lockie Shawl neck cardigan but decided to mull that one over. I left with two pairs of socks and a Sinatra-esque crushable strawlike trilby.  Could have spent hours in there. But it was time to repair to The Hoppe Bar a fairly basic sort of place where they sprinkle sand on the floor instead of sawdust. Its in a slightly less touristy part of the city centre, it’s always busy and seems to be the preserve of a well dressed, older crowd of locals.

So today I found myself in a Wetherspoons pub. The people I was meeting tipped me off that the seasoned drinkers were ordering Abbot Reserve at £2.10 a pint. Four pints later I decided enough was enough and wandered across the road to Waitrose to get my provisions. A good time was had by one and all.

I did a different walk this morning, taking a high path above the town, which has a kind of hidden history generally unappreciated by most of its inhabitants.  Full of old Methodist and Baptist chapels and stone farmhouses turned into bijou residences.