Hullo, old soul, how are you and the kid? [The cat] You’re a regular genius, you
know, that poem was a delight and really cheered me up; in fact I got 3 letters
in two days, and that was marvellous.
But I’m afraid since then I’ve felt a bit depressed – almost as bad as
when I was in Rome. Don’t know why, it just seemed to get to me yesterday, and
yet I was quite enjoying myself. So I’m
sorry if this isn’t too happy a letter.
I know I’ll get over it, but it just seems to hit you every now and
then, as you no doubt well know. I
think, perhaps, once I get started on the course I’ll be all right, but at the
moment I’m rather concerned about how it’ll all go. I don’t think I mind living in
England at all, though morally I don’t think the climate is as good as NZ, and
they’re worried about NZ – so! [One of the most startling things to my eyes
at this point, I remember, was a huge poster for a Swedish movie that hung from
a building in Central London: the two actors were naked and making love. Commonplace now, perhaps, but at the time
shocking.]
Kiri put me off a little yesterday I think with
her scandal sheet about some of the happenings last year at the school. So between us (you and me I mean) we’ll have
to pray like mad that I can steer clear of that sort of thing. [I
probably never told my mother about the many ‘scandalous’ things that did go on in the course of the year, amongst
both students and staff.]
Well, that’s made me feel a bit better, but it’s
probably made you feel worse. I’m sorry about that, but at the moment
you’re the only one I can really put everything straight to. Perhaps I shouldn't send this, just carry on typing until I’ve got it out of my system,
and then destroy it?
I’ve had a couple of meals at the Centre the
last two lunch times – quite reasonable dinners at not too bad prices, so that
would seem to help. And saves me
fiddling around till 7 at night cooking a big meal when I get home. Not that I mind, I bought myself a little
book called the No Time to Cookbook, and
it’s already come in handy. It has
recipes for meals that take 10, 20 and 30 minutes so is quite good because
they’re all fairly filling. Some are a
bit expensive, however, so I’ll stick to the cheaper ones.
Did I tell you I gave the Crowls some chocs last
time I was there; I’ll see if I can get some flowers for Mavis this time. This will be the last weekend for a couple as
they’re going on holiday.
There have been two or 3 things I’ve meant to
say for ages and keep forgetting. First
I must apologise on my bended knees for being so rude to you on the day I left
– I know I’m always a bit shirty on that sort of occasion, but I seemed to be
extra nasty that day. I am really
sorry. Next to mention the little old
houses that we saw going into Rome (!): several of them had little niches up in
the wall and there would be a statue of Our Lady standing in them. Similarly in London there are odd little
statues hanging on buildings or sitting in some unexpected corner. Very few religious ones of course, but
occasionally I’ve seen a crucifix or somesuch hanging over a door. And last night I saw the second of two quite
absurd accidents: a taxi was standing in the middle of Plaistow High St,
with another car pulled up behind it, when a bloke in a little sports model
pulled out from across the street (I think) and quite happily ran into the back of
the car! I don’t suppose he was too
happy about it really, but it just seemed too silly to have happened. No one hurt.
And another day this week a fellow who one minute was parked at the
side of the street came suddenly shooting down and into the back of another
parked car. I don’t know whether his
brakes suddenly failed or what! And
another titbit. There is a little man
with a moustache doing a buskers act outside one of the Piccadilly Circus
theatres each time I go past. he has a
couple of people playing for him and sings and dances without a sign of strain,
and he’s not all that young, either.
Onto what little I’ve done this week. On Monday I went to the National Gallery and
actually managed to get right round it, I think. it’s amazing though to see half the pictures
(well some!) that are in the Wonderland of Knowledge and other places just
sitting there! A whole room of
Rembrandts, dozens of Italian paintings of the 16th and 17th
centuries, and a host of others that you’d know by sight too I’m sure. The funny part is seeing them in colour after
looking at the black and white pictures for so long: it sure makes a
difference. [The Wonderland of Knowledge was a set of a dozen hardbound books
covering a huge variety of topics of interest to a growing mind that had been in my home for as long as I could remember; I’d studied
the pictures in it for years – though not the text so much – and so was
familiar with many of these paintings when I came to see them live.]
On Tuesday I joined the Nat. Film Theatre, which
since it works out to something like a penny a day seems quite reasonable. Plus the fact that you get a lot of free guff
as well as free copies of Sight and Sound,
the big Brit. film mag. I also went in and
saw something called [The Extraordinary
Adventures of] Mr West in the Land ofthe Bolsheviks, a silent film which was extremely funny in a goon-show way.
Mr West is an American senator who goes to Russia (complete with cowboy
protection!) and gets involved with a gang who do him out of all his
dollars.
On Wed, I went to the Meistersingers which cost a pound, which is a lot. I could have perhaps got in for less but it
would have meant a killing evening’s sitting: the show starts at 5.15 and goes
till 11.30!! So I got a slightly better
seat, and a marvellous view, and still didn’t have anywhere to put my
feet!! None of the London theatres think
about this apparently. But it was worth
it. There are two breaks, one of 15
minutes and another of 45. Over a 100 in
the orch, and more on stage.
Fantastic.
Last night, because the Opera Centre got half
price seats I went to a concert at the Royal Festival Hall. And even though it’s a new hall, there’s
nowhere to put your feet! We got the
cheapest seats, and they were still excellent.
It’s a great place: 3 huge floors all fronted by glass, looking out over
the Thames. They played my favourite
Mozart Concerto, outstandingly, and two Beethoven bits. [Not at all informative; I don’t now know what my ‘favourite’ Mozart
Concerto was.] London is still
small: the boy next to me was a NZer (so he said to his girlfriend!) and Gerald Krug, one of the Aussie Conductors during last year’s little trip of mine, was
there with his wife. At least I’m sure it was him. He didn’t seem to recollect me when I sort of
kept wandering around them at the interval, so I didn’t speak in case it
wasn’t; but I’m sure it was! People here
don’t seem to expect to see anyone they know.
Going to Reg’s last week, there were three Americans on the tube [handwritten from this point on] who
stayed on when I got off. They turned up at St Alban’s
Cathedral. I wasn’t greatly surprised
but the Crowls seemed to be! – when I told them, that is. I’d better go and do
some work and have some breakfast etc.
An awful lot of love – Milke (who?) Mike.
[This
business of meeting people I knew from New Zealand in such a vast congregation
of people has always intrigued me. When Celia and I go on trips out of Dunedin
we always keep an eye out for people we know, and usually meet at least one
person. But that’s in NZ. When my wife Celia and my eldest daughter Stefanie went to England around
1987, Stef was taken by some of her relatives in Northampton to the mall at
Milton Keynes. She met my cousin from
Dunedin! When Celia and I were in England in 2007 we travelled some distance
out of our way to catch up with another one of my cousins, whom I hadn’t seen in years. When we
first arrived she was out, and the woman she lives with entertained us. When my
cousin arrived, it was with my uncle from Dunedin in tow – I hadn’t even known
he was over there.]
