Saturday 16th September 2017

Since the beginning of August, my days have either been spent at home, working or out on some new photographic based odyssey. COming back from the US, four days later and we were going up to London to Old Oak Common, the next weekend it was the Heritage Weekend and now it is Open House. Which means we would be going back up to that London on the train again. Only, well, the brochure for Open House came when we were on holiday, and with all that was going on when we came back, it was about a week ago when I opened it to see what was on offer, and by then a lot of the best tours and visits would have already been booked.

Anyway, we had another thing booked.

Last December I heard about the Pink Floyd retrospective at the Victoria and Albert Museum, Their Mortal Remains. So I booked tickets for the same day as Open House, assuming we could do stuff before and after the exhibition. And as it turned out we did not feel like getting up before six, s it was that we left house after a single coffee to catch the twenty to eight train down the hill , meaning we would be in London just before nine, giving us an hour to get to the V&A.

You and I know the journey so well, so I won't bore you with the details. You can probably even guess which seats we had, on which side of the tain and whether we were facing the direction of travel or not.

I felt we had less time that I thought in London; and so once we got off the platform, we decided to travel straight to South Kensington and then look for breakfast there. We were both hungry by then, but we could wait. Anyway, it was a simple trip on the Piccadilly Line, about half a dozen stops and we were there. We go outside the station and opposite the entrance there was a shop selling pies and other savoury snacks. I have a lamb samosa with a coffee, and Jools has something similar. Without anywhere to sit, we stand on the square outside the station, eating and people watching; tourists, locals and the parish drunk trying very hard to use the automatic toilet. He gives up and just has a wee with the door open, whilst holding a bottle of booze.

He seemed happy with his lot, but then the night was yet young, or was it late? When does very late become very early?

I digress. But once we had eaten and drunk the coffees, we walk back down into the station and then along the long subway that takes most pedestrians away from the busy streets and right to the three big museums here. We walk to the end, then up onto the street, looking for the entrance to the V&A, finding that a piazza had been built, and that is where the entrance now is. A single security guard is manning the doors, telling everyone who goes to ask him, including us, that the doors and the exhibition would open at ten. We have ten whole minutes to wait.

So, we wait, and people watch some more. The doors are then opened at ten, and there is a scramble to be first in the queue to have bags checked inside, then queue again to get into the exhibition. We wait our turn, then walk down the long corridor where our tickets were checked and then allowed in. We find that many people had made it before us, because they had pushed in front of us for the bag checking. And at each of the displays of memorabilia people were four or five deep. So, we look where we can, and I take shots. But I am very disappointed.

But I also know, thanks to other friends who had been, that there were much more interesting things further on. And once we had passed all the memorabilia, we came to the audio visual part, and were amazing. Stage items and puppets on a huge scale from The Wall era shows, and beyond. It was magical, and there was just a handful of us sharing this. When we had had our tickets checked, we were given a set of headphones, and I am not keen on these, so I said do I need to have these. And the young man said, that he would recommend i kept them on.

Glad I did, because as you walked through each part of the exhibition, music and interviews played. And at one point there was a sound mixing desk, and my adjusting the sliders, it changed the sound on your headphones; amazing. I could have played with that for hours.

The final exhibit was a large square room with a video wall, playing tracks with matching visuals. It was incredible, I could have watched that for hours too, Arnold Layne along with UFO-era visuals, and a rendition of Comfortably Numb recorded at Live8. Just spine tingling.

We came to the end, and have an hour to fill before we were due to meet a friend for lunch: we were near Albert Hall, and that was also open for Open House. And it was just a short walk up Exhibition Road. So, up we walk, but I see some attractive streets down an alleyway, and find three streets of Mews; so I have to go and take shots. We cut through the the Hall, then walk round, not really knowing which entrance we needed to go to, but due to roadworks we found ourselves within sight of the entrance we needed, but unable to get there.

So we go to look for the pub where we were to meet Graham, down more side streets, over a main road and then through an archway and into another set of mews, with the pub, The Queen's Arms, on a corner. We are half an hour early, so try the door, but find it locked. We are both thirsty, so try to find a cafe back on the main street, walk down to where we can see some shops, but can only find another pub, but this was open. So Jools has a coffee and I have a pint of IPA. Above us, Rugby Union form the other side of the world is playing; Australia v Argentina, and Argentina were winning, at least by the time we left at midday.

Graham is at the bar when we enter, and buys the round, so it seems only fair for us to get lunch; burger and fries all round. Which is a bit rich after me complaining about how often I had had that meal in the US, but then we have been back 3 weeks now, and I was hungry. Was going to have fish and chips, but a last minute change of mind meant it was burger and fries. I think because away from the seaside and ports, fish is usually been frozen and is disappointing. Anyway, the burger was good, as so fed and watered, we could walk to the Albert Hall.

The Albert Hall is a building on a grand scale, even from the outside it is impressive, but once we had got inside, had our bags checked and shown to one of the boxes, the view into the auditorium was stunning, even with nothing going on. We take shots before taking the three sets of steps up to the gallery at the top, where if anything, the views were even better.

We all have our shots, so we make our way back down to the street level, passing by the Royal Box and the Royal Retiring Room. We were not allowed in either, not to use the Royal Entrance, fnar, either.

Graham said he know of a church. So we followed him as he took us on a tour through side streets and through leafy squares (with private gardens), following the directions from his mobile phone. We come to a grand gothic church, which was open, and a tour was going on, but we were here for photographs, so wait to get our chance, until the tour finishes and we get snapping.

By then it was getting towards three, and my back was complaining. Graham had also had enough, and we could have caught the tube, but I knew that if we got a taxi, and with fair wind, we would get to St Pancras in time to get the half three train and be home for five. We manage to flag one down, and he whisks us along side streets avoiding the worst of the traffic, getting us to the station at quarter past, just in time to go up to the platform and board the train that had just arrived, getting window seats round a table for the return journey.

The train soon filled up, and pulled out on time, just about full. I was looking at the exhibition book as we zoomed through the long tunnels, and beyond too, ignoring the passing countryside, and making the journey go even quicker. I reach the end of the book as we leave Folkestone, the train now half full, but with young people from Folkestone heading to the bright lights of Margate for a night out!

At least from Martin Mill, it is a quick drive up the hill into the village, and to home, just on five, so I could listen to Sports Report as I feed the cats, and find that Norwich won on the road, and also kept a clean sheet. Sweet.

And as is usual for a Saturday night, we have insalata for dinner, with some crusty bread, it is a golden evening outside, Huey is playing on the i player, and I have hundreds of shots to review and edit. All is well with the world. Before bed, I watch goals from the Championship, watching out for the single goal that City win by.

A good day all round