Spitalfields, London

This final London post is mostly devoted to a singular book and a singular site, with a few short comments at the very end.  It's long, but I think you'll find it rewarding!

If you read an earlier post, you know that I spent a fantastic Sunday in the East End.  When I was in the really neat store, Labour & Wait, I bought a copy of Spitalfields Life, by "The Gentle Author" (Saltyard Books, 2012).  [And as an aside, I can't resist telling you what a wonderful publisher Saltyard Books is! This is what they say about themselves: "Kick off your shoes.  Pour yourself a drink.  The weekend has only just begun.  Here at the Saltyard we believe in doing things right.  We believe that life is full of goodness.  All you need to really enjoy it is a little time...We believe in travel and time away.  What better than waking up somewhere new on a Saturday morning, as the sun creeps slowly across the floor?...At the Saltyard we believe that the weekend can be longer, that food can taste better, and that the sunset on Sunday will take a lifetime to dip below the horizon."]  Anyway, the book just looked irresistible, really unusual, and I had to have it.  It didn't disappoint: this is the kind of book I wish existed for lots of other neighborhoods around the world.  As "Your Loyal Servant, The Gentle Author" notes in the Introduction, "a new life began for me when I came to live here in a corner of London I had visited for many years."  The author (female or male, I don't know) explains that a thousand years after the Romans were in London, a man named Walter Brunus opened St. Mary's Hospital for the poor, and over time St. Mary's Hospital Fields became known as Spitalfields (and still today older folks refer to it as 'the fields').

The East End has historically been the immigrant neighborhood of London.  Beginning in the 12th century, Jews started a market here, and they were followed by Huguenot silk weavers from France and Belgium; migrant workers from Kent and East Anglia; Irish refugees; Sikhs, Pakistanis, and Bengalis; and more recently Afro-Caribbeans, Maltese, Germans, Scandinavians, Italians, Somalis, Thais, Filipinos, Latin Americans, Nigerians, Ghanians, and more.  It's a fact that there has occasionally been conflict in the East End, but, as the author notes, "this has always been counterbalanced by a strong egalitarian spirit, nurtured in a society where, of necessity, people learn to live alongside each other and thereby come to understand each other."

The Gentle Author recognized that a lifetime's interest in this neighborhood meant the subject was too large for any writer to create a definitive account.  So writing one story a day, each about a different person in Spitalfields, was the only way to go, and thus a recording of life in Spitalfields began.  The stories in this book originally appeared on the Author's blog, from the first eighteen months of its existence.  (Just a few comments about the blog are "Spitalfields Life is a barricade against the tide of cultural amnesia"; "A beautiful blog, the gentle author is a joy to read"; "Really loving Spitalfields Life, a blog about life in the heart of London"; and "Every neighborhood in the world should have a chronicler like @thegentleauthor") 

Spitalfields Life introduces you to the site of Shakespeare's first theater in Shoreditch, Alan Hughes the master bell-founder (whose business began in 1570), the Columbia Road Flower Market, Sandra Esqulant (owner of The Golden Heart pub and "uncrowned monarch of Spitalfields"), the curry chefs of Brick Lane, 4th-generation paper bag seller Paul Gardner, street artist Ben Eine, and Rob Ryan, who single handedly reinvented the lost art of paper cutting -- one of his paper cut designs adorns the last page of every story in the book.  Ryan has worked on projects with Paul Smith, Liberty of London, Vogue, and Fortnum & Mason.  His website is really appealing (and some of his work is available on etsy.com), and happily, the shop at the Museum of Arts and Design in New York carries a boxed set of four ceramic plates featuring a different Ryan design (in blue) on each one!  ('Four Trees, Four Seasons' is the official name of the set.)

Many people have told The Gentle Author that "Spitalfields has changed," but she/he has found that "there are plenty of people in the neighborhood who still carry the culture and stories of this place stretching back over centuries."  I would consider it an honor to meet The Gentle Author; perhaps one happy day I will.  But until then, there is this wonderful book and blog. (There is also the great Spitalfields Life map/guide -- produced by Herb Lester Associates -- that I recommended in a previous post.)

*    

My good friend Wendy has been to London many times, and she usually visits friends who have been in the habit of picking one unusual thing to do during her stay.  Not long ago the friends made reservations at the Dennis Severs House.  Wendy told me it was on her short list of most unique places she's ever been, so I was eager to borrow her copy of 18 Folgate Street: The Tale of a House in Spitalfields (Chatto & Windus, 2001; pictured above).  The final lines in the book read: "And, dear visitor, take this as the motto of the house: AUT VISUM AUT NON!  (Oh, for God's sake!)  You either see it or you don't."  So of course after I read that it I was filled with enthusiasm to visit the house, but unfortunately I wasn't going to be in London for the evening, candlelight tour, which I understand is the one you want to do (as opposed to daytime tours).  So I can't tell you about it; but that's not stopping me from recommending it, and in fact I recommended it to my friend Amy, who went to London last month with her husband and two daughters.  Amy reserved for the candlelight tour, and here's what she reports:

Visiting the Dennis Severs House is a magical experience that transports you back to the early 18^thcentury.  The house is the creation of artist Dennis Severs, who lived in the house much the same way as its original occupants might have done.  He did this for his personal enjoyment and for the atmosphere, which he then employed to create an extraordinary experience for visitors.  To enter its door is to pass through the frame of a painting, with a time and life of its own.  Upon entering, it's as if you have interrupted a family of Huguenot silk weavers named Jervis who, though they can still be heard, seem just out of sight.  The journey takes you through 10 rooms, each lit by fire and candlelight (there is no electric light), and in each you are filled with an array of stimulants to the senses. Visitors are encouraged to do what they would if looking at a painting, use what they see and sense to piece together the scene they have just missed, thus this is Mr. Severs’ intention, and what you imagine is his art.

After 30 years the experience ranks as one of the rarest in the world.  British artist David Hockney once rated its effect as standing amongst those of the world’s great opera experiences.  The visit, about 45 minutes, is conducted in silence, and there's smoky light, creaking footsteps, whispers, closing doors, ticking clocks, pleasing aromas and the mysterious presence of a black cat.   When I went the house was particularly lovely decorated for the Christmas holiday.  Four tours are offered -- see the website for more details.

Amy has been among my traveling companions, so I can tell you without hesitation that if she enthuses about something, she is sincere.  She's also a travel consultant, and may be reached via her website -- if you're way too busy to plan a trip, or need some help in putting together a unique itinerary, Amy will create a customized plan for you (including one with kids) at favorable rates.  

*

*A good article to read about the East End is 'London Goes Electric', Kate Maxwell, photographs by Lisa Limer, illustrations by Peter Oumanski, Conde Nast Traveler, May 2012)

*Two other great reads I neglected to mention previously: A Jane Austen Education: How Six Novels Taught Me  About Love, Friendship, and the Things That Really Matter by William Deresiewicz (Penguin, 2011).  I loved this book, and it prompted me to begin on an Austen reading fest (sad confession: I'd only read Pride and Prejudice) -- so I read Emma, loved it, and now have Persuasion on my nightstand.  Bloody Confused!: A Clueless American Sportswriter Seeks Solace in English Soccer by Chuck Culpepper (Broadway 2008).  Though this is a personal experience of English soccer, it's also great for a fairly in-depth view of the sport in Britain.  Full disclosure:  Chuck is an old friend, and he's a very good writer and very funny.  But even if I'd never met him, I'd recommend his book to anyone going to England, to any soccer fan, and to any sports fan.

*There is a wonderful etching in the collection of the British Museum called London: 'The Long View' by Wenceslaus Hollar (1607-77).  I bought a postcard of it in the museum bookstore and wish I could scan it for inclusion in my blog but the image is copyrighted and I don't want to violate copyright law.  Hollar was born in Prague and was a draftsman and etcher before coming to London, where he worked on book illustration and cartography.  In 1666 he was named 'Scenographus regius' by the king, but the Great Fire of that same year put an abrupt halt to Hollar's project, which was to capture the entire city (he completed six sheets of drawings before the Fire) -- look for the postcard, and the print suitable for framing, in the museum shop.

*Readers of my previous posts know that I recommended The Golden Hind [73 Marylebone Lane, W1] for fish and chips.  I'd meant to share a little of the background behind this quintessential British specialty, which I gleaned from The Traditional Shops and Restaurants of London by Eugenia Bell (Little Bookroom).  Bell informs us that the fish evolved separately from the chips: fried wedges of potato ("almost certainly a French invention") was a staple in the north of England in the 19th century.  Fried fish came from Jewish kitchens of the East End, and one of the earliest recorded fish-and-chip shops in London was Joseph Malin's in Whitechapel, dating from about 1860.  Bell notes that fish-and-chips as a meal first caught on in England's northern cities and then spread to holiday resort towns along the coasts.  It became so essential that "during the Second World War, the Minister of Food, Lord Woolton, decreed that it would not be rationed.  Today there is even a professional body, the National Federation of Fish Friers, which publishes a magazine, the Fish Friers Review."  In London, different types of fish can be found on a "chippie" menu -- cod, hake, haddock, and plaice are traditional, but most of the fish today comes frozen, sadly, from Norway, Iceland, the Faroe Islands, and Russia.  The oldest fish-and-chips shop in London is Rock & Sole Plaice [47 Endell Street, WC2]. 

*Finally, kudos to British Airways for great flights and great service (and even, believe it or not, meals that were actually pretty good).  BA also offers one of the few morning flights from New York, which means that you arrive in London in the evening, avoiding the worst effects of jet lag.  My first choice is always to fly the airline of the country I'm visiting, and I'm so happy that my first BA flight has insured it won't be my last.  

Next: The Cotswolds

London

GOOD WISHES TO EVERYONE IN 2013!

Another great day out in London took in three major sites and three forms of transportation (I love to try all the local forms of public transportation wherever I travel). So on this day we took the Underground to the Tower of London (we'd seen the Ceremony of the Keys at nighttime, when the Tower is closed; see earlier post for details about the Ceremony), then we took a Thames Clippers boat to the Tate Modern museum, and then we walked across the Millennium Bridge to St. Paul's.  Terrific!

Tate Modern is a truly impressive architectural reclamation project: the building was originally the Bankside power station, designed by Sir Giles Gilbert Scott who also designed the Battersea power station, Waterloo Bridge, and the iconic British red telephone booths. A building with such huge spaces and high ceilings is perfect for showcasing large artworks, and levels 5 and 6 are essentially a two-story glass box referred to as the "lightbeam" as it runs along the entire length of the building (level 6 is also where the main restaurant is located and there are superb views to be had).

Levels 2, 3, and 4 focus on a major art movement and how contemporary artists have responded to these ideas. Some of this space is devoted to temporary exhibitions, and the permanent collection is frequently rehung or moved around, so if you visit more than once in a six month or one year period you may find the galleries quite changed (the museum is meant to be constantly fresh and expanding, after all). But some of the artists whose work you may see here include Matisse, Constantin Brancusi, Roy Lichtenstein, Cy Twombly, Lucio Fontana, Claes Oldenburg, Cindy Sherman, Louise Bourgeois, Francis Bacon, Andy Warhol, Anish Kapoor, Andre Derain, Max Beckmann, Diego Rivera, Dali, Picasso, Joseph Beuys, and Barnett Newman. Level 0 is where the Turbine Hall and The Tanks are located -- this space is truly massive as this is where huge oil-burning generators and oil tanks were located. The Tanks are the world's first museum galleries permanently dedicated to live art. I admit that some of the conceptual art installations at Tate Modern leave me perplexed, but that would be true no matter where I was. When my husband and I visited the Guggenheim Bilbao, we hired a guide who first took us around the building's exterior and then walked us through the galleries inside. "Wow!" is what I walked away thinking, because it was amazing and I was blown away and I would never have even remotely understood most of the works I saw. I will make sure my next visit to Tate Modern is timed for one of the free guided tours (currently 11:00 and 12 noon daily on Level 2 and 13:00 (1:00) and 14:00 (2:00) daily on Level 4).

There is a cafe on level 1, and a cool espresso bar on level 3, but I vastly prefer the restaurant on level 7 -- if you don't want waiter service at a table, you can select some light fare from the bar and find a seat at the long, shelf-like table against one of the windows.

Not surprisingly, we loved walking across the Millennium Bridge, from this very modern edifice to the classic old one on the London skyline. I was a little surprised, however, that my 14-year-old daughter loved St. Paul's so much -- in fact, she claimed it was practically the highlight of the trip for her. And when we later visited the Cabinet War Rooms, I was particularly pleased when she pointed to the famous photo of St. Paul's during the Blitz with sympathy and a sad look on her face.

Next up: a final post on London and one on the Cotswolds.

A History of the World in 100 Objects

The British Museum is as tremendous as ever, and I was really happy to catch the special exhibit 'Picasso Prints: The Vollard Suite' as it was in its final days. Avant-garde Paris art dealer and print publisher Ambroise Vollard was savvy enough to give Picasso his first exhibition in 1901. Picasso wrote of Vollard that "the most beautiful woman who ever lived never had her portrait painted, drawn, or engraved [more often] than Vollard -- by Cezanne, Renoir, Roualt, Bonnard, Forain, almost everybody...He had the vanity of a woman, that man." The prints that make up the Vollard Suite were commissioned by Vollard when he asked Picasso to produce 100 etchings between 1930 and 1937 in exchange for some pictures. Vollard died in a car crash before the prints were distributed, and the outbreak of World War II delayed their release further still. Dealer Henri Petiet purchased most of the prints from the Vollard estate, and the set acquired by the British Museum comes directly from the heirs of Petiet and has never been shown in public before and is in pristine condition. It was a wonderful show!

Almost just as good as visiting the museum in person is A History of the World in 100 Objects by Neil MacGregor (an edition with a slightly different cover than the one shown above was published by Allen Lane, an imprint of Penguin Books, 2011). I bought this book last year, before it started to receive some attention here in the States (the article 'A History of New York in 50 Objects' by Sam Roberts, The New York Times, 2 September, 2012 is one of the most recent examples inspired by the book). Based on a BBC Radio 4 series, HOTW is just the kind of book (or project) I am crazy about -- it's very similar in spirit, after all, to my A to Z Miscellany in each of my books. MacGregor notes in his Preface that telling history through things is what museums are for, "and because the British Museum has for over 250 years been collecting things from all round the globe, it is not a bad place to start if you want to use objects to tell a history of the world." He also wisely notes that if the history you want to tell doesn't unduly favor one part of humanity, you can't use texts alone because "only some of the world has ever had texts, while most of the world, for most of the time, has not. Writing is one of humanity's later achievements, and until fairly recently even many literate societies recorded their concerns and aspirations not only in writing but in things."

While I do think it's optimal to read this book through as is, one can open it up to any page and easily get lost for an hour. Every single object presented is incredibly fascinating, whether it's an Olduvai stone chopping tool, the standard of Ur, a gold coin of Croesus minted in western Turkey, a Hebrew astrolabe probably from Spain, a Mexican codex map, a Russian Revolutionary plate, or a credit card issued in the United Arab Emirates in 2009 (since they were introduced in the 1950s, credit cards have become a major part of modern life). And to think that all of these are in the permanent collection of the BM is a reminder that this is one of the world's most stellar museums. (And in case you're wondering, the Parthenon sculpture of Centaur and Lapith -- better known as the Elgin Marbles -- is included in these 100 objects; MacGregor doesn't share his view on the matter of whether the Marbles should be returned to Greece or remain in London, but as readers of my book on Athens, the Peloponnese, and the Aegean Islands know, I believe the time has come for them to be on display in Athens.)

Neil MacGregor has been Director of the BM since 2002, and he was previously Director of the National Gallery in London. His book is a masterpiece, and it would also make a great holiday gift.

Apsley House, London

I am stunned that so many weeks have gone by since my last post, and there's no point in apologizing: everyone's busy, everyone has life maintenance, and no one is sitting around eating bons bons.  Certainly not here in New York anyway, where we are still coming to terms with Hurricane Sandy (and will be for a long time to come).  If we constantly apologized for being late, no conversations of substance would ever happen.  So, I'm returning to my last few posts about my trip to England without further ado:

"If you want to understand the history of England, there's no better way than to visit the homes of those who wrote it."  -- English Heritage 

Another highlight in London was Apsley House in London.  Known also as 'No. 1 London,' Apsley House [149 Piccadilly, Hyde Park Corner] was the home of the Duke of Wellington.  I admit my main reason for going there was to see a particular painting, 'The Waterseller of Seville,' painted by Diego Velazquez in 1620-22.  My Mom brought this painting to my attention after reading about it in The Wall Street Journal ('The Compassionate Scoundrel' by Mary Tompkins Lewis, 18 June, 2011).  The painting is magnificent, but Lewis's article really gives the work even more depth.  The painting was the last of Velazquez's bodegones, "an early series of genre scenes from Seville of humble figures engaged in the rituals of food and drink."  Lewis notes that a waterseller -- an aguador -- was a familiar and welcome sight on the dusty streets of 17th century Seville, and he was also "a stock character in picaresque Spanish literature, plays and popular imagery, routinely rendered as a scoundrel or pathetic peddler who operated on the fringes of urban society and hawked his often dubious wares to an unsuspecting public."  

This painting alone is worthy of a journey to Apsley House, but as it happens the mansion is filled with several hundred of the finest works in London (including military memorabilia, a statue of Napoleon by Italian sculptor Canova, a grand 'Battle of Waterloo' painted in 1843 by Sir William Allan, the Saxon Service and Prussian Service porcelain sets, an original pair of Wellington boots, and a pair of candelabra and a silver-gilt shield given to Wellington to celebrate the victory at Waterloo).  'The Waterseller of Seville' is from a group of canvases referred to as the Spanish Royal Collection, which were discovered after the Battle of Vitoria in 1813 in the abandoned baggage carriage of Joseph Bonaparte, who was at that time king of Spain.  The works were given to Wellington as rolled-up canvases by King Ferdinand VII of Spain in 1816.  Another stunning painting in the Collection is 'The Agony in the Garden' by Correggio -- according to the official guidebook, Benjamin West, President of the Royal Academy, thought this was "worth fighting a battle for, and that it should be framed in diamonds."

Wellington -- who became known as the Iron Duke -- passed away in 1852 as a national hero.  Some 200,000 people lined up to view his body lying in state, and he was buried at St. Paul's Cathedral.

The Statue of Achilles (raised in honor of Wellington and funded entirely by British women), Wellington Arch, and Wellington Statue are very near Apsley House in the Hyde Park Corner traffic island, making this a veritable Wellington neighborhood.  So I thought it was a little odd when, I was a little turned around after I came out of the Underground, I asked a few passersby where Apsley House was located.  "Come again?" and "What?" were the replies I received.  Even when I said, "Wellington's house" they didn't seem to know which way to direct me.   No matter -- it actually only took walking a few steps toward the giant Arch to find my way; but Aplsey House deserves to be better known, and I encourage visitors bound for London to find a place for it on their itineraries.

London

Wow, Hurricane Sandy.  Not much else to say.  But it is at least partially responsible for the time that has gone by between my last post and this one.  Rather than focus on what happened, I far prefer to focus on what is happening, and I admit I also prefer to continue thinking and writing about London!  So continuing on, I have a few more posts on London, and then I'll move on to the enormous list I have on other subjects.

Here are some great shops I spent time in in London that I really recommend:

*Labour and Wait [85 Redchurch Street, E2 / www.labourandwait.co.uk] is a small shop a short jog from Brick Lane and it waves the British flag for great and well-made hardware and home items as well as clothing.  Everything here is functional and useful but also very attractive, and everything but perhaps two or three items is made in Britain.  Good for gifts, for yourself and others.

*L'Artisan du Chocolat [89 Lower Sloane Street, SW1 / www.artisanduchocolat.com] also waves a British flag, for British chocolate!  Chef Gordon Ramsay has described L'Artisan as "the Bentley of chocolate," and I can confirm that the No. 1 Salted Caramels -- a dark chocolate shell coated in cocoa powder with a liquid filling of salt and caramel -- is one of the ten best culinary items I've ever put in my mouth.  You can buy these in a small container for 13 pounds 50, and in larger sizes: 48 pieces for 25 pounds and 108 pieces for 55 pounds.  Plus there is a liquid salted caramel sauce for 7 pounds 99.  I'm certain the other chocolates are delicious, but I didn't get past the caramels.

*Rococo Chocolates [5 Motcomb Street, / www.rococochocolates.com] is a lovely shop in Chelsea co-founded by Chantal Cody, who I first read about in Mort Rosenblum's fascinating book Chocolate: A Bittersweet Saga of Dark and Light (North Point Press, 2004).  "Once bitten, truly smitten" is the store's slogan, and it's accurate!  Cody is the author of her own book, Real Chocolate (Rizzoli, 2003), which I also enjoyed, and she started the Campaign for Real Chocolate.  There's a selection of bar chocolates that feature appealing flavors and pretty paper wrappers (I particularly liked the cardamom organic dark chocolate artisan bar) and there are lots of boxed assortments, like the Union Jack and signature Rococo below:

Rococo was honored with the Chocolatier of the Year 2011 award.  The shop also has a little cafe in the back -- good to know about if you need to take a break in the neighborhood.  It's hard to leave here empty-handed.  



*A. Gold [42 Brushfield Street, E1 / www.agold.co.uk] is a charming shop that specializes in British culinary and grocery items.  The owners are Safia and Ian Thomas, but the shop's name comes from its original owner, Amelia Gold, a Hungarian Jewish hatmaker.  You can also get a good cup of coffee here -- no foam! -- and it's great fun to walk around slowly and see some English specialties you may have thought no longer existed.

*Topshop [flagship address at 214 Oxford Street in the West End / www.topshop.com] and Jack Wills [72 Kings Road, SW3 / www.jackwills.com]  I have to mention because my 14-year-old daughter loved these British clothing stores, and if you are visiting London with teenaged girls they might like them, too.  Topshop is much more of a sensory-overload experience, but there is an EAT cafe downstairs so companions who want to escape the frenzy can comfortably wait here.

*Lastly, a word about the Royal Warrant: a number of retailers in England who are official Royal Warrant holders, and you'll know when you pass such a shop because you'll see the royal seals displayed in windows or on storefronts.  In order to be nominated for the honor (by members of the royal family), the supplier must have served the royal family for five consecutive years.  According to Eugenia Bell in her wonderful book The Traditional Shops and Restaurants of London (mentioned in a previous post), the first known example of a royal warrant was in 1155, when Henry II gave the Weavers Company a Royal Charter to provide cloth to the royal household.  Bell notes that it isn't just shops that are warranted: "along with the outfitters, gunmakers, and supermarkets preferred by the royal family, there are suppliers of everything from parasols to Christmas crackers."  Once a supplier has been nominated, the Warrant is signed and approved by the Lord Chamberlain, secretary of the royal household in an act of "loyalty for loyalty."

Apparently Queen Victoria handed out more than 2,000 Warrants in her sixty-four-year reign, and of these many still retain the honor, including Fortnum & Mason and R. Twining.      

London Bookstores

I was stopped on 5th Avenue the other day by a woman who asked me if I was from London -- she saw I was carrying my cotton canvas tote bag from Daunt Books.  I explained that I'd recently visited London, and she said she'd been living there -- "around the corner from Daunt Books, one of the best bookstores in the world" -- for three years and was now back in New York and was feeling homesick.  I completely understood how she felt, not only because I have London very much in mind these days but also because Daunt really is one of the greatest bookstores I've ever been to.

I'm referring to the store's Marylebone High Street location, at numbers 83 and 84 near the Baker Street Tube stop (there are three other outposts in the city).  [And by the way, Marylebone is one of those English words that trips people up. I once worked with a British fellow from London who told me it was pronounced MAHR-luh-bone but I have also heard it pronounced MAHR-luh-bun.]  Anyway, Daunt is a dream of a bookstore, with a beautiful room in the back of the street level floor that's lit by a skylight and is devoted to travel books!  It's a kind of heaven, and the books are arranged in my favorite way, which is that all of the books about each country -- fiction, cookbooks, biographies, travel guides, maps, memoirs, etc. -- are all found together.  There is an entire section devoted to Corsica!  (If you don't know this yet, Corsica is one of my most favorite places on the planet -- see an article I wrote for the travel section of The New York Times, 'Along the Road of the Artisans,' 17 October, 2004.)

I bought some books published by British imprints, as well as a copy of Illyrian Spring by Ann Bridge, originally published in 1935 and now brought back into print by the publishing arm of Daunt. It was hard to leave this store, but it was also great to visit Heywood Hill [10 Curzon Street, Mayfair], a 75+ year old bookstore that deals in both new and old books.  I bought a copy of The Bookshop at 10 Curzon Street: Letters Between Nancy Mitford and Heywood Hill, 1952-73.  When Heywood Hill left to serve in the British Army in 1943, he turned over the running of the store to Mitford.  She actually owned a share in the store, and later she famously wrote to Hill, "doing business with friends is impossible...do let's have a divorce."  There is one of those standard blue, commemorative plaques outside the store, indicating that Nancy Mitford worked there from 1942-1945, as well as one of the Royal Warrant plaques (more details about this later).   I also loved going to Stanfords [12-14 Long Acre, Covent Garden], one of the world's greatest travel bookstores.  It's been here since 1901, and reportedly has the world's largest inventory of travel books under one roof.

This time, I didn't get back to one of my other favorite London bookstores, Books for Cooks [4  Blenheim Crescent, Notting Hill; the only reason I didn't go is because I was actually trying to avoid the annual Notting Hill Caribbean Carnival].  I also really wanted to go to Foyles [113-119 Charing Cross Road, Soho; did you know that the name of the great British series, 'Foyle's War,' was inspired by this bookstore, which won the UK Bookseller of the Year award in 2010?] and John Sandoe Books [10 Blacklands Terrace, Chelsea], and Primrose Hill Books [134 Regent's Park Road]...but I simply couldn't fit them all in.  And I nearly lost my  mind when I discovered the London Bookshop Map: so many bookstores, so little time!

If it seems like I spent all my time in bookstores, I really didn't (though I wouldn't have minded!).  More unique London retail stores up next.  

The Ceremony of the Keys, London

Most memorable highlight of my London trip:

*The Ceremony of the Keys, Tower of London.  This is known as the oldest, longest-running ceremony in the world, and it is positively fabulous.  Since 1280, every single night without fail -- even during the Plague, the Fire, and the Blitz -- a man known as the Gentleman Porter (or Chief Yeoman Warder) walks down the cobbled lane between the inner and outer walls of the Tower of London carrying a lit, brass lantern at precisely 9:53 p.m. (the only time he was a little late was when on 29 December, 1940, when a bomb fell so close that the Tower warders fell off their feet, and they wrote a letter of apology to the King for lighting the lamp three minutes late; the King replied that he understood).

When the Gentleman Porter reaches a certain spot down the lane, a sentry calls out, "Halt! Who comes there?"  And the Porter replies, "The keys!"  "Whose keys?" asks the sentry.  And the Porter says, "Queen Elizabeth's keys." And I won't spoil the rest of the ceremony but will only say that it is dark, a little spooky, dramatic, a little corny, and thrilling all at the same time and you positively have to attend it.

The tickets (shown above) are free but you must reserve in advance, at least several months ahead if you're visiting in the summer months (I wrote in February for tickets in August):  see details at Historic Royal Palaces.