Sunday, November 25, 2007

What is this wonderful stuff called Semillon?


This Sunday we took another walk down to St Pauls. While we only planned on doing a small walk, it actually ended up being a 3 hour trek. I have to say I love St Pauls. It is simply magnificent. One of my most fondest memories ever is walking past the cathedral one winters night with snow falling on my face. It just filled me with an indescribable joy. If there was one symbol that summed up London, in my humble opinion it would be this magnificent feat by Christopher Wren. I've attended church services there, and we walk through it on a Sunday just like any tourist, and every time I look at it from the outside or inside, in the morning or at night, in the cold winter months or the summer ones, it just blows me away. Enough said. Our next point of interest was the wobbly bridge. I can't call it by any other name. It doesn't wobble now, but it
used to, and I always call it that. A few moments later we'd crossed over the Thames and were outside the Tate Modern, with exhibitions proudly sponsored by UBS.

There was a big crack in the floor inside, but in true Blitz spirit, everyone just bucked up and made the best of it. With global warming, concrete was bound to start drying and cracking even the most sturdiest of structures.




We finished off the walk with lunch at the Wood St restaurant in the Barbican. The meal was sensational, roast sole with crab sauce washed down with an Australian semillon, with cheese for afters. I swear, by the way, that there is an Australian Gum tree in the centre of the Barbican. I will investigate. Surrounding us was a family who's father went to Oxford, and talked incessantly about algebra, applied mathematics and who's legal practice is intertwined with Heather McCarthy's lawsuit. The next table along sat an Irish musical student with her mother, and the next table had a 70 year old wheel-chair bound authoress who's on the English literature speaking circuit.