Following some business in Vauxhall this morning, I found myself with an entire afternoon with nothing to do (minus all the things I am avoiding doing...) So I wandered over to Pimlico, and into the Tate Britain, who just this August launched an exhibit on British Romantics. Nothing like a gray London afternoon to visit Constable, Turner and Blake. Also on display are Fiona Banner's decommissioned fighter planes, placed in fascinating juxtaposition to the Tate's classical grand hall.
I ran out of energy to see the Turner Prize winners, and wandered along the river into my favourite little park, The Victoria Tower Gardens, just behind the parliament buildings. The park offers gorgeous views down the Thames, and always seems to block out the busy noise of the capital.
Walking past Big Ben, then past Inigo Jones' wonderful Whitehall Palace, I found myself in Trafalgar Square, officially having taken a proper tourist route. Feeling back in my home territory (anything past Westminster bridge always feels foreign to me) I went to my old stomping grounds, Somerset House. I worked there while studying at UCL and the place brings back such happy memories, I couldn't resist. I rang a friend at the Courtauld and we met on the terrace overlooking the river.
What a perfect afternoon it turned out to be.
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