Saturday 22nd September 2018

(Officially) the last day of summer.

Open House London 2018

In most years, Open House is the week after Heritage Weekend, meaning I thought OH was last week, but it turns out I was mistaken.

A few of us had been planning a meet up, so when I said OH and suggested last week, my request got some shrugs, apparently, and then the 22nd was mentioned and agreed. Then on Friday night I got a final offer vua e mail to download the 2018 Open House brochure. So, I got it wrong. Which is not unusual.

Anyway, checking the train times, I find there was engineering works from Deal to Folkestone, meaning we would have to drive our go by rail replacement bus to pick up a train. In the end we decided upon Folkestone Central, as that was where the train started from, and we would get seats.

After coffee, we drove down to the port then along Townwall Street, only to find the A20 closed beyond Aycliffe, no idea why, but made us glad we set out earlier.

We drove up over St Martins then up the old Folkestone Road to Capel then along and down into Folkestone, finding a parking space near Radnor Park.

We walked over the damp grass to the station, getting our tickets then having a 5 minute wait before the train pulled in, we getting seats round a table, so Jools could read and I could look out of the window. And we were away, and for me the unusual thrill of travelling all the way into London to St Pancras rather than get off at Statford. Saying that, most of that additional four minutes of the journey is through a tunnel, just emerging having just passed over the Great Eastern Main Line, and for me a quick look to see if there was any trains on that or the new curve which Crossrail trains can now take Just an LNER HST rumbling into Gasworks tunnel, but I was happy with that.

There is yet more construction going in around the old gasometers at Kings Cross beside the canal, will look very different when completed, and the views through to York Road will be forever blocked.

We wait until everyone else gets off once the train pulls into the station, I go back to take a shot at the front of the train, then we walk to the escalators and out of the station. As we were only going to be staying in Bloomsbury, we could walk,and get a few steps in, after a few days of little movement.

We cross Euston Road, then walk down Grays Inn Road, heading south towards Russell Square. And we were hungry, so the agreement was to stop at the first cafe we saw, and just a few hundred yards down the road we find the first, Carmel, so we go in and order the smallest breakfasts they did; a sausage, two rashers, beans, an egg, four slices of toast and a cuppa, all for a fiver. We were in such a good mood we decide to sit outside on the pavement where it was just about warm enough to do so.

Fully refuelled, we walk off southwards until we came to a small map, I saw our first destination, over there, across the road, down the next left, first right and it should be there.

We cross Kingsway, abve what was London's only underground tram stop; it's still there and the ramps at either end are there too. But no trams have run for decades.

Anyway, we take the next right and at the end was our destination; the Freemasons Hall. I had no idea what to expect, but I had searched for things to do around where we were going to in the area, and this seemed to be best.

We went it, had our bags checked, and the wonders began in the reception hall, with marbled pillars and steps and such everywhere, we went up the double staircase to the first floor, were there was more arble and more staned glass and more statues and more mosaics.

Up some more step was the entrance to the grand hall, more like a theatre really, but is where the ceremonies take place still.

It was mind-bogglingly beautiful, and yet unnerving, that such a secretive society can exist out of sight. How can it be out of sight when you are allowed to wander in and take shots? Well, who are members and how members climb the various greasy poles in the police and politics.

We leave, and outside the threatening rain had arrived, and was now steadily raining. We decide to get a taxi to Great Ormond Street, just a run of a few minutes, but we would be dry and arrive in time to meet our friends.

We were to meet in an Italian cafe, but me supplying Graham with my work mobile number to keep in touch was rather undone by me leaving it outside. However, Jools had her pay as you go one, and we taxt Graham, and all is good.

Graham arrived dead on time at half eleven, and Aidan twenty minutes later, giving us all time to finish our drinks.

Over the road and down a side road is the entrance to Great Ormond Street hospital, we go in, sweep past the reception desk and down a corridor to the chapel. In the middle of a modern worl leading children's hospital is a grad II* listen chapel, saved from the original building.

It is gilded, carved and glorious, if small. JM Barrie has a memorial here, and Charles Dickens helped fund it.

From there we walk to Senate House, now part of London University, and looks like something from Gotham City. Inside it is Art Deco cum brutal, or so it seemed to me, we wandered round getting shots until we were all ready for another port of call.

St George Bloomsbury is a fine 18th century church by Hawksmoor.

We dodge the raindrops and go in, and a wall of incense hits us as we enter.

Once we had our shots, Graham leads us to a pub, a fine pub, which has booths round the bar, and we nab one to ourselves.

We have one pint, but I am still thirsty, so have another. And Aidan says its not right he hasn't bought a round, so we have a third.

The afternoon has slipped by, and we have done enough stomping for the day, Aidan is going to visit the Masons Hall, so we all hug as we part, and after spending a couple of minutes trying to flag a taxi down, instead we walk to Holborn Tube and get a Piccadilly line train the two stops to St Pancras.

A twelve car train was waiting, so we slip into one in the first half of the train, and I half snooze until the train departs. We have to change at Ashford, so raid the vending machine of crisps and chocolate, as we had skipped lunch, so feeling better, we climb onto the train to Folkestone.

We get back home at six, just in time for me to catch the last of the first half action of City's game at QPR. I should have been there, but too much to do, so little time. and all that.

Anyway, City play well, dominate possession, but score just the one, in the second half, but its enough to claim all three points and bring us our third win in a week.

Hurrah.

We have cheese and crackers for dinner, listening to Huey on the i player, and following the football on Twitter. It am the modern way