BLOG PART I
It was the last day of Charlie’s pop up shop….
But we were closing early.
At 1.45 the dresser was being packed up….
But a last minute customer meant we were running late. We jumped in a taxi to rush to Waterloo.
Why? I’d received an amazing email from a client, earlier in the week.
But we hit gridlock.
We jumped out of the taxi and walked across Waterloo bridge…
To find that we were so late that Waterloo station was completely deserted.
This was our train to the match. Spooky.
The blog being the blog, I couldn’t help snapping photographs of idyllic allotments along the journey…
Or of Asgill House, as we sped across the river at Richmond…
When we arrived at Twickenham we were no longer alone.
I especially approved of front garden pop-up shops. I can’t believe everyone hadn’t set up.
We arrived in the stadium in perfect time, with a suitable stash of beer, to find our amazing seats.
Pre-match excitement was building.
The red arrows made their flyover, perfectly timed.
The cameramen recording the Haka. I loved the face of the little girl holding the ball!
I suppose all you can do is stand and watch…
(meanwhile, I did admire the stadium…)
In case you were wondering, I was actually watching the rugby.
But I loved soaking in the small details in the moments when nothing was happening.
Some people had better cameras than mine. It was very funny watching the photographers running up and down the touchline.
I became obsessed by the security guard who’s job it was to face the crowd, not the game.
I think I’d get pretty bored too. The most frustrating seat in the world.
The following photo proves that Boris Johnson’s head is about twice the size of Prince William’s (in fact, that Boris generally is about twice the size).
Half time. For once, the queue for the ladies’ loo…
Was shorter than the mens. Coming back into the stadium….
When Bridie had taken Charlie and me to the first game (NZ v. Argentina… we are old hands now) I’d got slightly obsessed by the guys in suits with garden forks tidying up the pitch at half time.
Darkness fell. The stadium took on a deeper intensity in the second half. Especially when Australia seemed to recover for a moment. Still, boring for some.
We were unbelievably close to the action. This was our incredible view. And then it was over….
Not everyone was moved:
The Webb Ellis cup arrived on pitch:
Followed by Prince Harry:
There is of course a reason why you read my blog… You’d just forgotten it ever since I got married. The face of defeat:
An incredible match, an incredible experience. Thank you Jonathan.
Not everyone was excited:
And then the party was over.We swept back in to London and a celebratory dinner at Ciao Bella on Lambs Conduit Street and then we had the rather dubious task of dismantling Charlie’s pop up properly… Molly Mahon was moving in on Sunday morning (and opens today… very exciting and a lot of hard work was happening all day).
It didn’t take too long. That’s the amazing thing about pop-ups. And, for that matter, Charlie. Think of the magical atmosphere which was in this little room for the last 3 weeks.. and now look at it. We felt a bit sad, but glad that for the first time in a month he wasn’t getting up at 4am to go to the Flower market and start baking….
BLOG PART II
PERFECT LONDON SUNDAY
It was a perfect, dream morning in London. We woke up early…but rolled over and went to sleep again until it was time to go to a late lazy breakfast with neighbours. Bloomsbury glowed…
Charlie and I thought we’d go for a walk in the remarkable sunshine. We had no idea where to go, no destination. We just meandered. For the first time ever we popped into the small church, St. Mary le Strand, designed by James Gibbs, opposite Somerset House.
And then across to Somerset House…
Which was wrapped up like a Christo and Jeanne-Claude. The skating rink is nearly finished. Christmas is coming but it didn’t quite feel like it today.
The Houses of Parliament were incredible in the misty light.
Hundreds of people at the book stores under Waterloo Bridge…
We walked through St. James’s Park… making our way to Piccadilly for a very late lunch…
Duck Island Cottage…
This was not a normal November Sunday…
The back of the Reform Club…
And the Athanaeum, catching the dying rays of the sun.
We had a long late lunch and took the bus home in the dark. A perfect weekend.