Aiming to break up the winter gloom, H and I took ourselves off to London for a few days planning to catch up with a few friends and family plus take in a bit of culture.
We arrived on a gloriously sunny afternoon and decided to visit the National Portrait Gallery which underwent
a substantial renovation a couple of years ago. Hoping to be delighted and impressed, we were both a bit disappointed. Somehow, the collection seemed to lack cohesion, and the signage wasn’t great. I did revisit the painting of Sir Henry Unton, not so much a portrait as the story of his life. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.
We’d based ourselves in Southwark not far from the site of the Tabard where pilgrims gathered before setting off to Canterbury. It’s a fascinating area to wander around which we did the following morning before heading to the Fashion and Textile Museum in nearby Bermondsey to see Outlaws: Fashion Renegades of 80s London. Highly recommended for those wishing to revisit their youth or just admire the surprisingly good tailoring. I’ve been impressed by all the shows I’ve seen at this museum. A small space inventively used, complemented by interesting well-presented context for the exhibits. Perhaps the National Portrait Gallery should pay it a visit.
Waking up to a lovely clear morning after supper with friends the previous evening, we were both feeling chipper and decided to walk to the V&A via St 
James’s Park to say hello to the pelicans. We used our Art Fund cards to get us in to see The Great Mughals, a fabulous exhibition of miniatures and artefacts of which my favourite was an exquisite jade wine cup. As ever, the route to the exit took us through a random bit of the permanent collection stuffed with eye-catching objects. One of London’s most interesting museums, always worth a visit and free if you avoid exhibitions.
Our last morning was spent walking the riverside path just beyond Tower Bridge feeling lucky to have had such great 
weather, so different from last year’s incessant rain. Such an enjoyable break rounded off by lunch with my aunt who’s always brilliant company.
And the book? London is the location for Elizabeth McCracken’s novella, The Hero of This Book, which follows her recently bereaved narrator around the city she visited with her beloved mother several times. It was written after McCracken lost her own mother but, as our narrator insists is neither a memoir nor a piece of autofiction because what even is that. A poignant book full of memories and love.
Back to books on Friday…
