Unusually for us, we've been out and about quite a bit lately. We had a very wet trip to London on Wednesday to meet Annie and her friend and ex-colleague Helen, both of whom were in London for a day trip to see the BP portrait competition entries at the National Portrait Gallery. We set off in fine weather (but with waterproofs at the ready), and our train ran into heavy rain at Sevenoaks. (It's quite common for there to be a substantial change in the climate either side of River Hill.) A lot of people had clearly paid no attention to the forecast, and got thoroughly soaked in consequence. The signalling gear at London Bridge seemed also to be water-soluble, and our train was diverted into Cannon Street, of blessed memory. This slightly longer than usual journey was not helped by a noisy family group on a day trip to the capital. I wish I understood why some people think the entire carriage needs to be entertained by their inane prattling. Our tickets let us use a rather smart District Line Wimbledon train to the Embankment - the new rolling stock is light and airy, with full-size connectors between carriages. A far cry from my commute from Parson's Green in the 1970s.
Next, a wet walk up Villiers Street, where we paused for lunch, then on up to the gallery to wait for Annie to arrive from King's Cross. The exhibition was quite crowded, but included a lot of excellent stuff in a range of styles. Too many portraits were far too photographic for our liking. The technical excellence is undeniable, but we prefer to see a spot of artistic interpretation. Of the tightly drawn pieces, the artists had generally worked wonders with the lighting, with two large group paintings looking almost three-dimensional. Glad to say that we disagreed vigorously with the choice of winner and runners-up! We took a look at the permanent collection of C19 and 20 portraits, many of which were rather gloomy. HM is reputed to hate her portrait by Annigoni - we're with her on that.
On Thursday, which turned into a beautiful day, we had lunch with Richard and Claire in Tonbridge. It's some time since we've been to their place, in which they have been investing a bit recently. Claire has redesigned their small garden so that it's now made up of distinct compartments of great charm. They have extended the garage to make a studio for Claire, who has been doing some fine work in mosaics. Richard prepared lunch, starting with a tray of delicious tapas, served on a huge platter that he had turned himself from a piece of plane. They are such a creative couple!
Yesterday we had a slightly more boisterous lunch at Dawn's - another fine day, and eighteen of us sat down to a fine buffet at a couple of long tables in the garden. The day degenerated into a raucous boules tournament, and the wine was flowing pretty liberally when we left around 5:30 (yr obed servt, being driver, toyed with a glass and a half over the first two hours and then stuck to water). Great to be out of doors, but the hay fever is up a notch, unfortunately. Them's the hazards.
Another lunch date today with Christine and Jon at East Peckham. At this rate, we'll soon forget how to cook! More fresh air next weekend, but at the seaside in North Yorkshire. (We're going by train, our more recent attempts at longish journeys through English traffic having been quite simply hellish. Annie will pick us up at York.) We'll just about have time to get our breath back from that before we motor off to Switzerland and France for a couple of weeks. We're strong believers in presenting a moving target.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the water heating has been a bit hit and miss of late. Tepid showers yesterday, and no hot water at all in the tank early this morning. And yet the boiler kicked in again normally at 06:30, and has heated the tank. We had the same experience last weekend, and called in Jez the plumber. Just like the tooth that stops aching as soon as you get it to the dentist, the boiler performed impeccably when Jez was here on Tuesday. The programmer appears to know what day it is, but doesn't appear to offer different programmes for different days. I may be obliged to RTFM (Read The Manual). But then, maybe it just feels entitled to a rest on Fridays and Saturdays.
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