2015 London

Adventures in London 2015

A journal kept by Susan Hanes during a trip to London as part of a broader trip including Vienna and Stuttgart, May 26-June 5, 2015.

Photos by Susan Hanes, copyright 2015.

Adventures in London 2015 Coinciding with the 150th Anniversary of the original publication of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.

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Tuesday, May 26

to London

The day of my long-anticipated trip to Europe is finally

further conversation and enabled me to think about the

here. Jake dropped me off at the Blue Line at 2:30 for

next three weeks. I feel somewhat ambivalent, heading to

American Airlines 46 to London, the flight that I have

Europe on my own, after all the years that Jake has

taken so many times in the past. After a pre-flight glass of

assumed the planning and we have traveled together. But

wine at Bubbles in Terminal 3, I made my way to the gate.

this kind of trip, filled with visits with friends, is much

Looking around for a place to sit, I found an empty chair

more my preference than his, and he is happier at home.

behind a woman with distinctive red hair who I realized was author and artist Audrey Niffenegger. An hour departure delay gave me the chance to hear about her new project: curating and illustrating a collection of ghost stories. Titled Ghostly, the book is due out in October. We discussed Columbia College Center of Book and Paper, and she admitted that she is unhappy with the direction that the center is going; she fears that it may be folded into other departments. Audrey has a home in London now where she lives with her fiancé (a comics artist) near Symmetry, is being made into a BBC series. After finally boarding, we were further delayed on the tarmac due to “heavy traffic eastbound,” whatever that meant. My seat mate was a young Korean girl on her way to visit family in Seoul. She was plugged into earphones that precluded 2

Audrey Niffenegger

Highgate. She told me that her second book, Her Fearful

Wednesday, May 27 We landed at 8:40 AM and I tried not to think about it being 2:40 AM by the time I had gone to bed; there was too much on the schedule today.

Passport control and customs were efficient, and Vicky was there to meet me as soon as I came though the doors. Our first task was to buy a UK SIM card for my unlocked iPhone; I had heard that Three was a good phone service and bought a card with an unlimited month’s service for 30 GBP with 10 GBP worth of call time outside the UK. We stopped at Vicky’s flat in Parson’s Green for a quick change before we hopped on the District Line to Embankment and just made it in time for the Grolier Gathering luncheon at the Athenaeum Club at Waterloo Place. We were treated to a three-course meal of marinated salmon, breast of guinea fowl, and a lemon tart, hosted by Christopher de Hamel (who had just spoken at the Caxton Club a few days earlier) and Anthony Davis (whom I had met in Iowa City at a Caxton on the Move event). The realm of books makes the world a lot smaller.

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After lunch, we were led upstairs where items from the Athenaeum’s collections were set out for us, many of which related to the literary figures who have been members of this august club. Anthony took me to the private member’s library where a selection of Wilkie Collins-related materials was displayed in glass cases. Of particular interest to me was a letter in which he berated club management for the poor (and overpriced) wine:

I beg to draw the attention of the Committee to the Chablis (white Burgundy) of which I ordered a pint bottle today. I have never, in a large experience of bad wine at various hotels abroad and at home, tasted anything so thoroughly bad as the pint bottle of Chablis brought to me at the Athenaeum.

It is charged at the price of two and sixpence. As to my experience, it is impossible to charge more, for the very best wine instead of the very worst produced in Low Burgundy!

Wilkie Collins 4

Vicky and I walked up the Pall Mall, enjoying the brilliant sunny afternoon. Flags were flying for the Queen’s Trooping of the Color earlier that morning. We stopped for tea at the Wolseley, a cafÊ in the grand European tradition, on Piccadilly.

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Anthony Mourek At 5:00 we joined a group of Grolier Club members for a special viewing of Magna Carta Through the Ages, featuring the Society’s three copies of the Magna Carta, at the Society of Antiquaries at Burlington House. Founded in 1707, it is Britain’s oldest club concerned with the study of the past.

Dr. Stephen Church of the University of East Anglia described the evolution of antiquarian interest in the “Great Charter.” A wine reception followed in the meeting room, where we were surrounded by royal portraits, many dating from the 15th century.

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The Royal Academy Conrad Shawcross Installation

We took the 14 bus back to Parson’s Green, and I settled into my “penthouse” room while Vicky prepared a quiche and salad supper for Michael and me. As I fell into bed at 10:00, I was pleased that I had made it though this first, very busy day.

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Thursday, May 28 I slept heavily, soothed by fresh air blowing through the

where I wanted to see the Ravilious show, dedicated to the

skylight and the sounds of Heathrow traffic and the District

short-lived British illustrator and designer Eric Ravilious. I

Line in the distance. I awoke to a brilliant day, cloudless and

agreed with reviewer Richard Dorment who said it was “an

cool. Vicky had gone on to work and I had a cup of coffee

unalloyed pleasure from start to finish.” Consisting

with Michael before taking the tube to Victoria and just

primarily of watercolors, the exhibition displayed

making the southeastern overland train toward Orphington.

landscapes and harbor scenes infused with the artist’s deep

A short ride through the trees brought me to Dulwich. It was

love of the English countryside. I only wish there had been

a quarter of a mile walk to the Dulwich Picture Gallery,

more examples of his remarkable wood engravings.

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Returning to the city, I visited the Tate Britain to see Salt and Silver, an exhibition of photography’s very earliest images. The show explained photography’s remarkable emergence and demonstrated the brief preeminence of salt prints (the earliest kind of photography on paper) before the form was replaced by other technologies.

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I enjoyed the William Blake Room, where dark blue walls provided a dreamy backdrop for a selection of drawings and paintings. They are now so fragile that they are only displayed for short periods of time, under muted illumination. The effect is ethereal and otherworldly.

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William Blake 1757 - 1827 English poet, painter, and printmaker. Largely unrecognized during his lifetime, Blake is now considered a seminal figure in the history of the poetry and visual arts of the Romantic Age. 19

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In the adjoining room, a display of Pre-Raphaelite drawings included a study for Charles Collins’s painting, Convent Thoughts, which I have seen at its home at the Ashmolean.

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Turner Exhibited was a display of works that

J.M.W. Turner painted for public exhibitions.

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I stopped for a glass of wine and a bag of crisps at nearby Morpeth Arms, a cozy pub established in 1845 on the site of the Millbank Penitentiary cells. It is said to be haunted.

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Back at Vicky’s, I had only a few minutes before she dropped me off across the green at Charles McGregor’s home. I spent a pleasant evening with him, enjoying his garden and a delicious home cooked meal. I particularly enjoyed our candid conversation, since we had time to

Charles McGregor

really catch up with each other’s lives.

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Friday, May 29

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Vicky had to work again, so I had breakfast with Michael

banks of shelves holding his phenomenal collection

before setting out in the rain to Knightsbridge and then to

concentrating on 18th century Venetian books. Giant folios

the PBFA Book Fair. I caught the 14 bus, but was back home

of the works of 15th century Italian and German masters

an hour later, having forgotten my phone and determining

were set out on a long table in the center. At 7:30, Lord

that I dare not be without it. By the time I returned to

Browne thanked us for coming and we were ushered out to

Knightsbridge, I was starting to drag, and the soggy

the street. I called Vicky to see how we could meet, and she

weather did not help my mood. I perked up when I

said, “Turn around.” Fortunately, she and Michael had

discovered a great raincoat on sale at Aquascutum, but I

decided to come earlier than our arranged 8:00 meeting

could not shake the jet lag catching up with me. The tube

time. We drove to Dover Street, where I had made

ride back was laborious, as switching problems slowed the

reservations at the Arts Club through my reciprocal

train to a crawl for most of the way. Finally home, I fell into

privileges from the Arts Club of Chicago. As we stepped

bed for a needed nap. By the time I woke up, the rain had

into the crowded foyer, I realized that this was no longer

moved on and my outlook was rosier as I dressed for my

the fusty place where my mother and I had come for lunch

final Grolier event, a visit to the private library of Lord John

in 2009. Sparkling with polished marble and crystal

Browne. Browne was the CEO of British Petroleum from

chandeliers, the club was hopping with young and

1995 to 2007, a period described as the company's "golden

beautiful people. Gone was the faded green carpet in the

period of expansion and diversification.” Vicky dropped

upstairs bar; the room was now sleek and shining, the walls

me off at his magnificent home at 25 Cheyne Walk. Wine

covered with contemporary art. We enjoyed drinks in the

and hors d’oeuvres were served in the white marble

Library Bar as we waited for our 9:00 dinner reservations. It

drawing room, under an extraordinary Titian woodcut of

was a great place to people-watch. Vicky commented on the

the parting of the Red Sea, measuring four by seven feet.

glitzy, international, and obviously affluent clientele. The

We were ushered through a manicured garden to his

evening was not cheap; I discovered that our single round

separate library. The wood-paneled room was lined with

of drinks was even more expensive than dinner.

Harrods

Liberty

Victoria Beckham 27

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Lord John Browne

The Arts Club of London Dover Street

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Saturday, May 30

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We spent a lazy morning at home, chatting over yoghurt,

the Leake Street Tunnel. A gritty wonderland of its own,

fruit, and tea. Vicky and I took the tube to Embankment

its walls were filled with the most amazing art from floor

and walked across the Golden Jubilee Bridge to the

to ceiling. There were a several young men at work with

South Bank. We shared a Moroccan harissa chicken wrap

their spray cans, showing minimal respect for any

at the Festival Hall street market, thinking we had plenty

previous art. I asked one fellow who was working on a

of time to get to Alice’s Adventures Underground, located

black and aqua mural with hip-hop style graffiti how

in the Vaults behind Waterloo Station. It turned out that

long he expected his art to remain. “An hour—a day?”

it was practically impossible to find. As we raced around

he replied. “It doesn’t matter, really. It is just the doing

under the platforms of Waterloo, we found ourselves in

of it.”

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On we raced, finally finding the entrance to Alice, arriving just in time to get our wrists stamped with a purple pocket watch and slip into the darkness. The venue was a warren of dark, weird corridors and narrow metal steps that I found quite disorienting.

At the start, we were each handed a playing card and told to “shuffle” along with our own suit. After we were given small brown bottles labeled “Drink Me,” Vicky and I were led in different directions and rushed through a series of crazy scenes where we met the Cook and the Duchess, a manic Mad Hatter and a sexy March Hare, and Tweedledum and Tweedledee, who flew over our heads in harnesses. It was all very clever, but I will admit to being relieved when we were finally reunited in the courtroom to determine who stole the tarts.

Vicky and I agreed that it was an experience that we were just as glad was behind us and that the real Wonderland for us was that tunnel of street art.

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Walking back across the bridge, we passed families out enjoying the afternoon. Street performers played guitar, demonstrated acrobatics, or created giant bubbles. Our walk continued up towards Trafalgar Square where we paused at the Edith Cavell statue, dedicated to the WWI nurse who was shot as a spy by the Germans. Her moving last words are carved below the figure: Patriotism is not enough // I must have no hatred or // bitterness for anyone. Near Chinatown, we picked up a bicycle rickshaw—something Vicky had never done—and bumped our way past the crowds to Liberty. As lovely as always, the store’s center court was decorated with streamers of Liberty’s signature fabrics. I found a scarf, which I was told took 1000 hours to design. I am not sure that was necessarily accurate, but the scarf was lovely and I bought it.

We had just enough time to cross over to the Palladium on Argyle, where we met Michael for Beyond Bollywood, a celebration of Indian folk traditions and festivals. The stage became a riot of color and movement and we were totally engrossed. By the time we returned home, it was too late for dinner, so we turned in after a most satisfying day.

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Sunday, May 31 Another chilly morning; when is spring going to come to

purpose. His creations made me question his relationship

London? I was glad that I was wearing my new coat as we

with his models, dressing them in his imaginative

set out in late morning for the V&A to see the Alexander

creations, while often covering their faces. And many of

McQueen exhibit, Savage Beauty. I will admit to being

his designs are frightening— as one reviewer commented,

ambivalent about seeing it; the clown-like image pictured

“For every heaven-sent gown, come half a dozen that seem

in the advertising posters was far from appealing. But

to have risen straight up from the underworld.” Most

Vicky wanted to show me the exhibition, and I agreed. All

fascinating was the huge room converted into a Cabinet of

I can say is, “Wow!” Savage Beauty is unlike any fashion

Curiosities, featuring accessories that sometimes

show I have ever imagined. A ravishing retrospective of

resembled instruments of torture, set next to videos of

the late designer’s work, it inspired unease as much as

models wearing them. No wonder McQueen described

awe. One cannot help but wonder at McQueen’s duality of

himself as a “romantic schizophrenic.”

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William, Alice, Vicky and Michael Palau We had a cool drink in the Tate’s magnificent Morris Room before walking up Sloan Street to John Lewis, chatting and window-shopping along the way. It was fun to see the sights that had become familiar to me when Em and I stayed in that area in 2009. We returned to Vicky’s just as her daughter Alice was walking up to the door. She and William joined us for dinner at Sukhol Thai restaurant on the Fulham Road. What a delight it was to see them both; I have always thought them the most wonderful young people, and that is only partially due to my half-century friendship with Vicky. After dinner, Alice went home, while William stayed and we sipped Balvenie 15-year old Single Barrel scotch and discussed travel in the U.S. Before we knew it, it was another late night.

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Monday, June 1 We were planning to get an early start this morning to see the Foundling Museum, but after realizing that it is closed on Mondays, we stayed home so that Vicky could do some computer work and I could catch up with my writing. After lunch, we were on our way to the Museum of Childhood at Bethnal Green. The current exhibition, The Alice Look, showed how Alice has been adopted and adapted all over the world, inspiring designers and photographers. We followed Alice's evolution from follower-of-fashion to trendsetter through a selection of garments, photographs, and rare editions of the Alice books.

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Upstairs, Vicky particularly enjoyed Small Stories, which took us on a journey through history with some of the finest dollhouses in the UK.

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Taking the tube to St. Paul’s, we found Postman’s Park, hidden from the busy road next to St. Botolph-without-Aldersgare Church. This hauntingly beautiful little park acquired its name from its popularity as a lunchtime spot with workers from the nearby General Post Office. It is home to the Watts Memorial, built in 1900 by Victorian painter and philanthropist George Watts (1817-1904). Along the walls of the memorial, softly decorated glazed Royal Doulton tablets commemorate acts of bravery, each one detailing the nature of the heroic act. The tragic tales documented on the tiles are moving, often involving children. As we read the epitaphs, a soft rain pattered on the wooden roof above our heads. We had found another hidden bit of magical London.

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Postman’s Park

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Clutching our shared umbrella, we returned to the real

with her prime ministers. Scott Thomas achieved a

world and tubed to Leister Square, where we found a

balance between mischievous irony and icy hauteur; the

place at the back of the Round Table in St. Martin’s Court.

prime ministers, from Churchill to Cameron, allowed her

We shared a platter of small fried pub treats over glasses

to reveal the different sides of the Queen’s personality as

of wine; a perfect way to pass the time before we met

she interacted with each. Although it was interesting for

Michael at the Apollo Theater. This evening we saw The

me to see the play as an American, I enjoyed watching

Audience with Kristin Scott Thomas starring as Queen

Vicky and Michael’s responses to it; Vicky told me later

Elizabeth. The play is about the Queen’s weekly meetings

that the coronation scene brought tears to her eyes.

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Tuesday, June 2 Vicky had to work today and Michael had an

much I treasure our friendship. It is hard to

appointment, so I had a leisurely morning, using

believe that I have known her for 17 years, ever

the time to do a little computer work. At 11:00, I

since we met in 1998 when Houston and I made

bundled up and went to Greenwich by tube and

our Wilkie tour of England.

overland train for lunch with Faith Clarke. I would have made it right on the dot of 12:30, but missed the turn down Park Vista and had to call her to come out to the street and wave for me. It was wonderful to see her again, but sad too, as this was my first visit since Bill’s death. Her home, set in the corner of Greenwich Park, is still as inviting as ever, but it is a lonely place now. Faith prepared a delicate salmon dish for our lunch, which we enjoyed sitting at a small table in her flower-filled solarium. We talked of family and of the unhappy adjustments that widowhood brings. She spoke of Bill have shared for so many years, and of her search to find meaningful things to do, now that she has retired. I gave her a small silver Victorian brooch with two intertwined hearts; I wanted her to have something from me to remind her of how

Wilkie Collins’s desk top

Faith Dawson Clarke

her uncertainty about staying in the home she and

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Wilkie’s grandson, Lionel, Faith’s father

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When it was time for me to leave, Faith decided to come with me.

We walked through the park in a brisk wind and went by boat to Westminster. From there, she returned to Greenwich by tube and I continued to Leicester Square. I used the time before I was to meet Vicky and Michael to find a place to top off my phone, and after asking at several places, bought a voucher at Sainsbury’s.

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I arrived at Wyndham’s Theater fifteen minutes before curtain and met Vicky in just enough time to order gin-andtonics to carry to our seats. This evening we saw a revival of David Mamet’s 1975 American Buffalo, starring Damien Lewis and John Goodman. I was interested to see Lewis after following him as Henry VIII on the BBC’s Wolf Hall, but was underwhelmed by the play, involving a couple of Chicago hustlers who try to make a fast buck.

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Wednesday, June 3 It was an early start to the day, as I had arranged to meet Angela Richardson and her New Zealand friend, Bronwyn Nicholson, at Waterloo Station at 9:30. We planned a trip to Guildford to visit the Watts Gallery. Opened in 1904, the year of the death of painter and sculptor George Frederic Watts, the gallery is a leading national center for the study of Victorian Art and Design. After all the rain and cold of the past few days, it was a treat to have a fine sunny morning to venture into the rolling Surrey countryside. We arrived at Guildford at 10:30 and took a taxi to the village of Compton.

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The gallery did not open until 11:00, giving us time to walk

Celtic influences. An inscription around the walls reads,

down the road to the Watts Cemetery Chapel. The Gothic

“Their hope is full of immortality but the souls of the righteous

Revival chapel was designed by Watts’s wife, Mary, herself

are in the hands of God.” I thought it was a magnificent

an artist. A group of amateurs and enthusiasts, many of

structure. The graves in the surrounding churchyard also

whom later joined Mary to found the Compton Potters’

bear beautiful Arts and Crafts carvings. A more peaceful

Guild, constructed the chapel from 1896 to 1898; virtually

setting would be hard to imagine; only a faint rumble of

every local resident was involved. They decorated the

traffic in the distance reminded me that we were close to

chapel under Mary's guidance, fusing Art Nouveau and

the environs of London.

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Before visiting the art gallery, we shared hearty vegetable soup and fresh buns in the tearoom; in earlier times, the area had served as the pottery showroom. The gallery building, too, was inspired by the Arts and Crafts movement. The special exhibit that we had come to Angela Richardson

see was Liberating Fashion: Aesthetic Dress in Victorian Portraits. It was small—only two rooms—but absolutely enchanting. A quote from Oscar Wilde began the exhibit: “One should be a work of art or wear a work of art.” And beautiful works of art adorned the women in paintings by such artists as Burne-Jones, AlmaTadema, and Arthur Hughes. Alice in Wonderland appeared in the painting by George Dunlop Leslie.

By the time we called for a taxi back to Guilford Station, we were feeling thoroughly satisfied by all the beautiful things we had seen.

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George Frederick Watts Mary Watts Self Portrait Hope Endymion

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I returned to Vicky and Michael’s flat and had a little break before taking the tube to Swiss Cottage to Andrew Gasson’s new home at Huson Close.

He had invited Faith, Andrew Lycett, and me for drinks and a tour of his library. With the added space, his Wilkie Collins collection is beautifully arranged and easier to access. He showed us editions that illustrate the publishing history of several titles and we enjoyed the William Collins paintings that filled the walls. The other Andrew had another commitment, but Andrew Gasson and Faith treated me to dinner at Bradley’s, a pleasant neighborhood restaurant. As Faith and I walked to the Jubilee Line for the ride home, she told me how much our time

Andrew Gasson’s Library

Andrew Lycett

together yesterday had meant to her. It had meant just as much to me.

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Thursday, June 4 This was my last day in London and I didn’t waste a minute. I met Penny Hilton at 9:30 at St. Clements, a coffee shop on the green that is obviously the meeting place for neighborhood mothers with small children. We ordered our coffee and descended to the quiet of the lower level, in spite of the beautiful day outside. But we had a lot to talk about, since Penny has just obtained a divorce from Paul, who never regained his mental facilities after a devastating ski accident eight years ago. Penny faced Trisha’s death and shortly after, this accident. She now has a new man in her life. When we left each

Penny Hilton

other, I wished her happiness as she negotiates her new relationship and deals with its effect on her family and friends.

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I took the tube to Portobello Road, although Thursday is not an official antiques day, and spent an hour or two poking around the permanent shops. It does not seem like a complete trip to London without a little antiquing. I found a 19th century travel inkwell that was made to resemble a one-pound weight. I had no luck finding old postcards, which was my primary purpose in going there.

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At 2:00, I arrived at the Dickens Museum at 48 Doughty Street. Lucinda Hawksley, the great-great-great granddaughter of Charles Dickens, was waiting for me outside in the sunshine. She gave me a tour of the house that was particularly interesting, since she knows it so well. She also presented me with an inscribed copy of her newest book, Moustaches, Whiskers & Beards, featuring my favorite portrait of Wilkie Collins by

Lucinda Hawksley

John Linnell as the frontispiece.

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It was a short walk across Coram Fields to the Foundling Museum. The museum tells the story of the Foundling Hospital, Britain’s first home for abandoned children, founded in 1739 by Captain Thomas Coram. The moving story of the hospital and the children who grew up there is revealed through the artwork, objects, and archival documents on display.

Especially evocative are the tiny love tokens that mothers left with their children as a means of identification: buttons, little metal hearts, a tiny key, and even an ale bottle label.

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As I was walking back to the Russell Square Station, I went around the corner to see if the old Russell Hotel was still open, and when I saw that it was, decided to go into the bar, as I have on so many of my other visits. I found the same old chair that I always sit in, ordered a drink, and started to write.

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I wasn’t sure that it would be open, but it is: I am back at the Russell Hotel in the same leather chair to the left of the door in the wood-paneled bar. The place appears not to have changed at all. Perhaps the lobby looks a bit shabbier, but the bar is exactly the same as it was more than 15 years ago when I first wandered in for a cup of tea and a break from my endless London walks. The only change that I notice is that my feet hurt more, and I have ordered a gin-and-tonic instead of tea. But the mauve patterned carpet, the lumpy leather chairs, and the brass chandeliers are just as they always were. I feel wonderfully at home in this cozy, comfortable sameness. On these, my last few hours in London, I am happy to have time to reflect on the last ten days. What a luxury it is to be here for so long at this stage of my busy life, with Jake at home and my final Caxton meeting as president awaiting me as soon as I return. It is a gift to return to London, and once again, being here has refreshed my outlook and renewed my soul. I have loved the chance to spend so much time with Vicky and Michael Palau; to have a day alone with Faith; and to see so many London friends—Andrew, Lucinda, Penny, Charles, Angela. The Grolier events added a new dimension as well, taking me to Burlington House and the Society of Antiquaries, the Athenaeum, and Lord Browne’s home on Cheyne Walk. I have loved my excursions to Dulwich and Guildford, and savored walking familiar streets. I may be a little slower than I was nearly 20 years ago on that fateful visit that claimed London as my own, but I still keep up with the crowds climbing the tube steps and have found this visit just as meaningful, healing, and refreshing as they have always been.

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Itinerary May 26-June 4, 2015 May Tuesday, May 26 AA 46

In Transit Departs 6:00PM

ORD Terminal 3 Seat 13C

Wednesday, May 27 London AA 46 Arrives 8:05AM LHR Terminal 3 Lunch: Grolier Club at the Athenaeum Club, Waterloo Place Tea: at Wolseley with Vicky Palau Grolier Magna Carta Tour, Society of Antiquaries, Burlington House, Piccadilly Grolier Gathering in London, Society of Antiquaries, Burlington House, Piccadilly Thursday, May 28 London Dulwich Picture Gallery: Rivilious Tate Britain: Salt and Silver William Blake Pre-Raphaelites Drawings Turner Exhibited Lunch: Morpeth Arms, Millbank Dinner: Charles McGregor, 54 Quarrendon Street, Parson’s Green Friday, May 29 London Shopping in Knightsbridge Grolier visit to the private library of Lord Browne, 25 Cheyne Walk Dinner: Arts Club of London, Dover Street with Michael and Vicky Palau Saturday, May 30 London Festival Hall street market Leake Street Tunnel Art Alice’s Adventures Underground, the Vaults, Waterloo Dinner: Giraffe with Vicky Palau Beyond Bollywood, London Palladium Theater with Vicky and Michael

Sunday, May 31 London Victoria and Albert: Savage Beauty Shopping: Sloan Street Dinner: Sukho Thai, Fulham Road with Palau family June Monday, June 1 London Museum of Childhood: The Alice Look Small Stories of UK Dollhouses Postman’s Park: Watts Memorial Dinner: Round Table Pub, St. Martin’s Court The Audience, Apollo Theater with Vicky and Michael Tuesday, June 2 London Lunch: Faith Clarke, 37 Park Vista, Greenwich Boat to Westminster American Buffalo, Wyndham’s Theatre with Vicky and Michael Wednesday, June 3 London Waterloo train to Guildford with Angela Richardson Watts Gallery: Aesthetic Dress in Victorian Portraits Watts Cemetery Chapel Drinks: Andrew Gasson; with Faith Clarke and Andrew Lycett Dinner: Bradley’s Restaurant with Faith Clarke and Andrew Gasson Thursday, June 4 London Breakfast: St. Clements, Parson’s Green with Penny Hilton Portobello Road antiquing Dickens House Museum: Lucinda Hawksley Foundling Museum Russell Hotel Bar All nights with Michael and Vicky Palau, Parson’s Green

A journal kept by Susan Hanes during a trip to London, May 26-June 5, 2015. Photos by Susan Hanes, copyright 2015.

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