5/20 – 5/23/22
5-20
Ah, the joys of driving in London. The beeping. The one-way streets. The relentless traffic. I had, apparently, a desire to experience all three, since I had arranged to rent a car from London city airport for the day. I was given an electric car, and spent about 10 minutes trying to figure out how the vehicle worked. By the time I had, it was raining, and it continued to rain – gently, then torrentially – as I fought my way onto the motorway leading toward Hastings.
When I scheduled my destinations for the day, I hadn’t realized how long it took to go anywhere off the motorways in southeastern England. It took me two hours to reach Pevensey Castle, largely because the last twenty miles consisted of one-lane rural roads and roundabout-studded villages. Donning my rain coat and snatching up my much-abused umbrella, I braved the monsoon and entered the castle, a medieval stronghold built inside the walls of a much larger Roman fort. Unsurprisingly, I was the only visitor.
After a sodden hour in the castle, I made the short drive to Hastings – or, more properly, to Battle, where the famous confrontation between the Saxons and Normans took place. After touring the museum, I walked around the battlefield. The rain had slackened to a drizzle, and a flock of sheep was grazing the pasture that covers the heart of the battlefield. I stood on one side, looking out toward the ruins of Battle Abbey, and reflected on how much had been decided on this patch of grass. The English language, for one, was born here.
An accident just north of Hastings created an epic traffic jam, forcing me to detour – along with every other vehicle within 10 miles – down a series of narrow country lanes. I had several uncomfortably close encounters with stone walls. It was late afternoon by the time I reached Lullingstone Roman Villa, just outside the London suburbs. The villa, to be honest, was a bit disappointing. But it was set in an idyllic landscape, just outside a village where vehicles still have to cross the local stream by ford.
I re-entered London just in time to experience the worst of rush hour traffic. Finally, after an hour of gridlock, I pulled into the rental car lot, heaved a sigh of relief, and boarded the light rail into central London. I surfaced from the tube in the posh Mayfair, where the auction company that had invited me to London had booked a room for me. The street in front of the Mayfair Hotel was lined with luxury autos – Jaguar, Bentley, Maserati – and the lobby was filled with suits worth more than my life. My room (as you’d expect) was very pleasant, but I couldn’t stomach the room service prices. Fortunately, I found a Subway nearby.
5-21
Breakfast at the Mayfair Hotel is a sumptuous affair, with custom omelets, all the bacon and sausage you care to eat, and a grand buffet of fruits and juices. I indulged with gusto. Once finished, I hurried down to the tube, and made my way to John Soane’s Museum. During his lifetime, John Soane (one of the leading architects in Regency London) converted his townhouse and studio into a museum of ancient and modern art. The museum was given to the nation upon Soane’s death, and remains one of London’s most unique and fascinating attractions.
I had arranged to meet Jonty Stern, one of the museum’s longest-serving employees, for a video on John Soane’s acquisition: the alabaster sarcophagus of Seti I. This spectacular piece (arguably the most important Egyptian artifact outside Egypt) is the centerpiece of the “Catacombs,” the lowest level of the museum, which Soane filled with tombstones and other death-themed objects.
I had planned to make a ten-minute video on the sarcophagus; but Jonty gave me at least a half-hour’s worth of material on everything from the discovery of Seti’s tomb to the reading of Hieroglyphs. Afterward, we chatted for an hour on historical matters in the employee break room.
Emerging at last from the catacombs, I worked my way through the museum at a leisurely pace, wandering from compartment to compartment in that colossal cabinet of curiosities.
I spent the entire afternoon at the British Museum, gathering material for videos (and, of course, enjoying myself). Then, after dinner, I strolled back to Mayfair through sunny Hyde Park, enjoying the perfect late spring weather.
5-22
After working all morning, I emerged from my hotel into another sunny day. I strolled through the quiet streets of Mayfair and the rather less quiet streets of Belgravia (Harrods was hopping) to the Victoria & Albert Museum. For me, the undisputed highlights of that vast museum were the cast courts.
In the nineteenth century, many museums commissioned plaster casts of famous sculptures and monuments. The great majority of these collections were discarded a century ago, as photography and mass tourism diminished the appeal of such replicas. But the V & A’s cast collection – always the world’s finest – was retained, and still fills two vast sunlit courts. Although I was impressed by the full-size cast (broken into two halves) of the Column of Trajan, it was the sheer, glorious profusion of monuments that struck me most – there was something very satisfying about strolling from Michelangelo’s David to the front of a Spanish cathedral via the tomb of a German archbishop.
After a stop at London’s premier used bookstore, I rounded out the afternoon at the National Gallery. As I walked through the galleries, meeting masterpiece after masterpiece, I was reminded of my first visit 15 years ago, when this was my first London museum. I was no less impressed this time.
There was some sort of Indian festival going on in Trafalgar Square, along with a surprising amount of skateboarding. So, after the obligatory pictures of Big Ben hovering behind Nelson’s Column, I made my way back to the Mayfair Hotel, where I had dinner with the president of the auction company and his wife.
5-23
After taking the COVID test that is still, for some reason, obligatory for all travelers returning to America, I strolled down Regent Street and Piccadilly, thick with flags for the queen’s platinum jubilee. After waiting in an unconscionably long line, I entered Westminster Abbey, my only tourist attraction of the day.
The Abbey was crowded; but it was a real pleasure to walk among the tombs, reading the Latin inscriptions and gaping at the effigies of England’s great and good. I was especially impressed by the Lady Chapel, with its benches and banners for Knights of the Bath.
After confirming that I did not have COVID (I got the email while sitting in the cloister) and making a quick tour of the Abbey’s subsidiary buildings, I hurried back to the Mayfair Hotel to prepare for my speech, scheduled for 7:30 that evening in the Crystal Room on the ground floor.
I descended to the Crystal Room shortly before 4, having spent the previous half-hour trying to iron out the worst wrinkles in my pants and shirt. I had announced on my YouTube channel that I would be happy to meet any subscribers who happened to be in London between 4 and 5 at the Mayfair Hotel; and to my astonishment, about 15 fans showed up, one coming all the way from Oxford.
After a pleasant hour chatting with my “public,” I began to circulate among the reception guests. I met two professors of ancient history, both authors of books I had read, and chatted for twenty minutes with one of them about the mystique of Roman cameos. A series of collectors, a glass of champagne, and then – at last – the speech that I had been contracted to give: Nightlife in Ancient Rome. Fortunately, the audience was receptive, the speech went well, and I spent the rest of the evening discussing Roman matters with curious audience members, trying to sustain myself on finger food between conversations.