Remember not so long ago I spent some time in London? I stayed with my relatives Mile End Milly and co. and whilst there I was reintroduced to that marvelous institution The Archers. This radio serial is of itself a damn good reason to emigrate or should I say "go home to the old country"? It's positively addictive (as MEM will attest) and I know the depth of her addiction - The Archers calendar on her kitchen wall notes all births deaths and marriages of Ambridge and according to a text I read: The Archers are real - there is no cast! I even saw an Archers wooden spoon amongst the kitchen implements.

I didn't mention where we stayed during our Roman holiday/Assisi sojourn. Whilst in Rome we were at the Palladium - where else? Whilst in Assisi - eh! Seize the day indeed!! (by the throat and shake vigourously) I didn't mention that we've observed the shortcomings of BBC World TV from a number of countries now, where it is often the only English-speaking service available. One of their catch phrases begins "A little knowledge shared..." It should end with "results in all of us knowing even less of a very little bit." Sorry but it is such a load of shite we even find 3 handed cribbage more amusing.

Recently I had a sulk regarding an inability to blog about Firenze. Now that I'm back at home base - Den Haag - with the luxury of broadband connection I find the reflection a little hazy. We made straight for the Galleria dell'Accademia where we found this surrounding the much anticipated chap. Stanford University has a hand in the obstructed view.
We then went to the duomo - as well as strolling the streets and the famous Ponte Vecchio.

Today we visited another medieval city - Perugia - shrouded in cloud and drizzly all day. Perugia is the home of Baci chocolates...it means "kiss" y'know! We didn't even sample any of these delicious local delicacies on account of it's winter, and like here in Assisi - EVERYTHING IS CLOSED!!!

After a most frustrating attempt to blog at this internet cafe I concede defeat. My lengthy hyper-linked post on Firenze was thwarted by a computer crash. In a sulk I will describe the journey home. Picture the setting. Ross driving (admirably I hasten to add) the hire car as we hit Peak Hour. It's raining. The roads are unfamiliar. Fortunately you can't do much but follow the signs - well marked - to the A1. Destination Roma (except we have to find the Perugia exit).
We then had the motorway, dark, heavy rain, roadworks and Italian drivers. This was beyond a white knuckle experience. This was fingernail divets in the palms. Ross stayed cool and calm. Averil and I were unusually tacit and when we finally arrived in Assisi were still shaky and jittery an hour later.

Currently in Assisi. Our days in Roma were very busy as we explored the Colliseum, Pantheon, Forum, St Peter's Basilica, Trevi Fountain, Spanish Steps. Hyperlinks to follow when I'm less hyper.
Assisi is truly medieval. More anon.
*Hyperlinked as promised.

My uncle Knuckle gave me a book some years ago. Today I went to the most comprehensive exhibition of the artist's work and was dazzled. The gallery contained an incredible collection of Escher's drawings, woodcuts and lithographs with an interesting slide show, as well as a virtual 3D tour de force via a visual head-set with sound which explored the works animated and digitized. Wow!
Then a visit to the prison gate museum where I heard of the unspeakable fate of Cornelius and Johann de Witt in 1672 - a black year in Holland's history.
Tomorrow we three are off to Assissi (via Roma). Ciao for now.

Since arriving in the Netherlands I hadn't actually ventured to Amsterdam until today. Leaving the station I followed a series of canal paths until I reached my first destination. There were many quotes to read as the visitor wandered through the house.
"I want to be useful and bring enjoyment to all people. And therefore I am so grateful to God for giving me this gift of writing, of expressing all that is in me." - AF March 25 1944.
"One single Anne Frank moves us more than the countless others who suffered just as she did but whose faces have remained in the shadows. Perhaps it is better that way; if we were capable of taking all the suffering of all those people we would not be able to live."
-Primo Levi Auschwitz survivor 1986
"Some of us read Anne Frank's diary on Robben Island and derived much encouragement from it." - Nelson Mandela 1994
"One of the wisest and most moving commentaries on war." - Eleanor Roosevelt Universal Declaration of Human Rights 1948.
Later in the day I visited two more museums.

Our Lyon experience bore a strong resemblence to this but without the guiding hand of Patrick we managed okay. For a weekend in February we were lucky with sun peeping through and no sign of rain or snow. The basilica overlooking Lyon has many stairways to its summit and we trod our way to the top. The views were incredible and quite different to the ones we'd had the day before. Our final day in Paris was more or less devoted to browsing and not buying.

I spent a four day weekend in Paris and Lyon. A song was stuck in my head. A song I hadn't heard for perhaps 30 years. It came back with a flash of nostalgia while I was sitting in a Delft cafe last week with Ross, played on a weird cd collection of falsetto hits. Ross grimaced. I can't say whether I like it or not (well I can say actually - a dag's confession- I do)but the fact that I could practically sing along with every word (in my head) means I probably did once or I was especially receptive at the time I first heard it. So here it is. I can't tell in this mute internet cafe, whether this site has sound but the melody and singing style is very 'voh doh deo doh'.

Ross and I caught a tram today which took us on a short trip. We arrived at our destination at a time when the weather, at 10 degrees seemed almost tropical. The town has a charm enhanced by a strong sense of history - reflected in the old buildings and churches - and an absence of McDonalds, Burger King and Pret a Manger. We were informed on arrival, that Delft has much more to offer than pottery and the fame of being the original seat of the House of Orange. All true, but we made straight for this factory where we were given a personal guided tour and history. Strolling back to the main old town we stopped for a snack which has become one of my staples. We discovered a building which now occupies the site where Vermeer's house once stood.

There's nothing like a spot of weather to interfere with your travel plans. I've now struck my second 'rough patch'. Initially the take off was delayed (I won't bore you with the regular intercom announcements) by an hour. We eventually took off and were 15 minutes from Amsterdam when, due to high winds we were diverted to Dusseldorf to land and re-fuel. It was one of those highly dramatic, white knuckle landings which inspired the outbreak of universal passenger applause when we came to a final halt. While some doubts were expressed about getting to Amsterdam that night they decided to risk it. After a sojourn on the Dusseldorf run-way for an hour or so we took off and 40 minutes later arrived at Schiphol. Through customs etc. and in to the conveniently located train station where an eerie absence of trains or information loomed. Without explanation I was told to board the train to Amsterdam. (opposite direction to Den Haag) and to get off in two stops. Surrounded by bewildered passengers I joined the tightly packed throng. Half an hour later we boarded the train, then off as allocated. Another eerie wait (fewer people, abandoned platform, no information) then a train to Haarlem - not where I should be heading but the general consensus was that a train to Den Haag could be met there. Around that time the information was filtering through that widespread storm damage to the electrical supply had thrown the transport system into chaos. On the train from Haarlem now heading towards Rotterdam ten train officials suddenly descended to the doorway where I was perched on my suitcase and asked two travel-weary passengers to get out of their seats. More officials then appeared flanking an unwell passenger incapable of standing. One of the officials then appealed for anyone with a plastic bag as she eyed off the WS Smith bag containing my 'Country Life' magazine. The dazed, substance-affected passenger was handed the bag and surrounded by the guards. Fortuitously before the bag was required we stopped at Leiden and there on the opposite platform was a train to Den Haag Centraal. I leapt across the platform, sunk into my seat with a sigh then sat for ten minutes. Finally arrived back. Again, what should have been a routine return flight from London to Amsterdam taking roughly 40 mins followed by a train journey of half an hour became a nine(!) hour odyssey.

The Cecil Beaton exhibition was very interesting. The gallery itself is a repository for celebrities through the ages from the Tudors to Ricky Gervais. I could have spent all day browsing at the mostly British subjects. Today I leave the UK and relatives who have been extremely kind and generous in their hospitality.

My attempts to browse and create the usual hyperlinks have been thwarted today. Just a couple of items to report. My day began with a trip down memory lane, or to be more specific Roman Road, located somewhere here . It was a market day but the few stallholders had covered their wares because of the fairly heavy drizzle. This provided the perfect excuse for me to 'brunch' in a cozy caf, where they served breakfast all day. I chose the artery-clogging 'fiesta grill' consisting of: fried egg, fried sausage, fried bacon, fried mushrooms, fried tomatoes, fried bubble (with a smidge of squeak for vitamin content?) baked beans and two thick slabs of bread sliced off the loaf and buttered. All washed down with a cuppa tea. No way could I eat it all...but compliments to the chef. As the waitress gathered my remnants she inquired: "awright babe?" This provided ample fuel for the days activities. In the afternoon I roved with the London Eye as a light shower of rain coated every surface with droplets sufficient to filter every photo. A (slightly more) surreal experience followed with the very extensive (yes more than 500 items) Salvador Dali exhibition at the Saatchi gallery in the former County Council building.
Retail therapy was in order so Tottenham Court Road led me to Charing Cross Road and the famous shop where browsing was encouraged. Geographically opposite Borders (just like Readings in Lygon St. Carlton), this store offered four floors of publications.
* Note To my regular readers and intimates*
My email account is obviously being affected by the dreaded web lurgy. Can't access any emails today.

Confession time. I have reached an age where philistinism and museum fatigue are in equal measure. I spent a large proportion of the day here, here and here when all the time the sunshine and blue(ish) skies were drawing me here! I did notice there was a Cecil Beaton exhibition opening tomorrow at the National Portrait Gallery. Perhaps...

This morning I went to a fantastic Women's Library where my companion (a distant relative not on the Bone side) and I browsed through some early magazines for a trip back to our troubled youth - not to mention a bit of recovered memory. We studiously avoided the heavy feminist tomes. An excellent library! Then a short walk to the nearby gallery.

Yesterday I spent the afternoon exploring the windswept heights of Greenwich. Straddled the date line AS YOU DO. Browsed through the museum and examined the instruments. An afternoon is simply not enough time to spend in that precinct...hope to get back there but if not, perhaps in another 14 years.

Currently blogging in Leceister Square having just seen a matinee of this! "OMG LOL WTF?" as they say. It was pretty damn good and so thought the hundred or so high school kids I saw it with. (are they really the same species?) Their natural exuberance and the compulsion to text message was tamed by the riveting performances of Hugh Ross and Dominic Rickhards - not to mention female personage unknown. Now that my heart rate is gradually returning to normal I am almost ready to venture out again and face the tube ride home. Although it is very bright in here, and there are warm friendly faces...perhaps a moment or two longer...was very amused to read of the exploits of my own little 'Spider' aka Bronte over on boynton. Good to see she's still up to her usual naughtiness.