So far in my travels of the English countryside the glitter of London has been largely ignored. I have been to the capital a few times but never have I been so much in tune with its vibrant city life as today. To start with, the London Underground is at the heart of understanding the city, with its faces old and young, Londoners and tourists, couples and singles, moving to their various destinations. An almost ethereal moment was savoured today on one of the escalators. As I was going up on an empty escalator, the escalator coming down was neatly packed. I felt the whole city of London was moving past me with its million faces and its million diverse dreams. I felt in the glance of each face, for that moment, time standing still. Then in the trains, I imagined the lines of the Underground connecting bits and pieces of this vast city. On this are overlaid our individual routes, winding, bending, turning, twisting, beginning and ending.
Despite the multitude of lines I have somehow liked the feel of Parisian underground network. Although in London many stations link with the National Rail network I am yet to determine their synergy. It is certain that the RER provides an excellent suburban connection from central Paris.
The night life, the theatre scene in particular, is staggering. Just head down to Leicester Square or Piccadilly Circus for a rewarding experience.
Of the many museums, one with a difference is the National Portrait Gallery at Trafalgar Square. I had already visited it once before and today I spent another six hours in it. Every face tells a story and with a collection as this the story of the British Empire from the Tudor times of Henry VIII to the present Queen Elizabeth II unfolds before the visitor in ways better than words can describe. It is not royal portraits alone that are on display – poets, scientists, inventors, statesmen, generals, painters, naturalists, and many more find their proper place.
This gallery is inspirational to everyone in their individual ways. Stare into the wizened eyes of Charles Darwin with his flowing white beard or study the distant thoughts of Isaac Newton. Reflect on the pensive form of William Wordsworth or the wild illumined gaze of William Blake. If men of action appeal to you, then look up to the confident Stamford Raffles or the sculpted face of the Duke of Wellington. See the drama in Queen Victoria presenting the Bible or Florence Nightingale attending to the wounded or better still William Shakespeare himself. If there is an inventive genius lurking in you waiting to be awakened, read the eyes of Michael Faraday or James Watt. Let William Hershel compel you to look beyond the stars or let Francis Drake persuade you to circumnavigate the globe. The Methodist founder John Wesley might change your perceptions of religion with his silent yet potent sermon or you might sing in chorus to the tune of Handel. In writing these diaries I shall perhaps one day become as famous as Samuel Pepys and be requested to sit for a portrait on canvas!
The evening candlelight performance at the St Martin-in-the-Fields Church of classical Baroque from Handel, Bach and Vivaldi surpassed all expectations and broke all resistance of a mind cultivated in Indian classical music. Where the latter has flourished in its codified system of beats and melodies, the former has done so in its free spirit and inventive genius of illustrious composers. Neither is better than the other and both are deserving in their own ways. To the uninitiated, a better appreciation of Western classical music, in my opinion, is gained by listening to concertos rather than full orchestras, to light and popular pieces rather than sombre and subtle movements of longer works. Appreciation of art in any form has to be cultivated over time, to seek out the good from the bad, to identify the gems of the good. There are many that are undeniably among the finest that art has to offer; of the rest, subjective judgements and personal preferences will always play a part and these may not be in accordance with the artistic milieu of the times.
