Hockley Heights Gazette

Saturday broke clear and calm, and the Peck household stirred around 7:27am as the old gringo arose for the usual round of early Saturday morning phone calls to Oz. Whilst juggling a phone in the crook of a shoulder, I cooked a typical English breakfast (see pic) to steel us for a hard day of culture in London.
We managed to scuttle out the door around 9am and decided, despite earlier practiced journeys, to risk a walk into town to catch the train to London. Arriving at Liverpool St Station, we were not amused to find the Circle Line out of action due to maintenance, but we jumped on the Central Line, alighted at Holborn and then onto the Picadilly Line down to Leicester Square. A quick walk through the theatre district brought us to the National Gallery which reigns over Trafalgar Square.
Kym and I split from the boys, and we spent the next couple of hours wandering open mouthed past incredible artistic riches, including Sunflowers (van Gogh), Venus and Mars (Botticelli), Self Portrait at 34 (Rembrandt - see *footnote), Samson and Delilah (Rubens), The Umbrellas (Renoir), The Water Lily Pond (Monet) and hundreds of other stunning original works, including Kym's favourite A Wheatfield, with Cypresses (van Gogh - pictured). At one point I sent an SMS to the boys saying, in effect, "get down here for the Manet to Picasso exhibition on Level -2" to which Mitch replied, and I quote "We just finished there it wasn't that great". Kym fell about the place laughing and I sighed heavily several times and pondered on the old (modified) adage, "you can lead an Australian to culture but you can't make him enjoy it."
I thought originally that I could spend hours or even days in such a gallery, but to be honest the senses were completely overloaded after about two hours, and we agreed to exit and slowly digest what we had experienced, rather than overdose and spoil the effect.
We ate a great lunch in Chinatown, and then going from the sublime to the ridiculous, we wandered through Covent Garden and took in a few high energy busker shows, before finding our way back to Liverpool St Station, and eventually out of London and back for a walk in the still evening air through Wickford to home.
A memorable day, and worth every drop of discomfort experienced since arriving here in the UK.

*footnote: 10 years ago almost to the day we visited the National Gallery of Australia in Canberra to view the exhibition Rembrandt, A Genius and his Impact. So moved was I by Self Portrait at 34 (I was 34 at the time), I took up painting and have enjoyed sporadic happiness with watercolours since that time.