Macho tea parties...

Once I was done with work stuff (2 hrs work is enough for one day) I went for a wander past Buckingham Palace (which after the Hofburg in Vienna, is a disappointment, although the vast Queen Victoria monument is impressive)

and through London’s famous parks – St James’, Green Park and Hyde Park. Apparently 34% of the city is made up of parks and commons, which Londoners claim is more than any other capital in Europe. I’m impressed!

Met up with Sarah and we climbed the Wellington Arch – (which used to have a statue of the Duke of Wellington on it, but now features Boudiccea, a much better choice IMHO!) another English Heritage property – for a fine view over Hyde Park Corner and the Buck Palace grounds.

Then the chappie at the Wellington Arch talked Sar and I into ducking over the road to Apsley House, home to the Duke of Wellington museum. A lot of 19^th century history leaves me a little cold, but this trip turned out to be a pisser! Warning - Monarchists or titled nobles reading this blog (yeah, right) may may wish to skip this entry…

Many will know that the first Duke of Wellington received his title in return for flogging Napoleon at Waterloo in 1815. The kings of countries that had been terrorized by Napoleon showed their gratitude as well, by following the newly established tradition (according to the commentary) of showering the new Duke with lavish, and very manly,… dinner services. Yes, really!

Emperor Francis I of Austria presented an elaborate, handpainted setting, with every person’s place featuring slightly different scenes. Frederick Augustus, King of Saxony followed suit in a similar style. The dinner service from Frederick William II at least features a huge phallic centerpiece, rising about 1.5 metres above the table …although it IS bright green…The Merchants of the City of London came to the party with some very pretty candlesticks and 94 private citizens put up subscriptions that entitled their names to be inscribed on the Waterloo Vase. Even the officers who had served under him presented their chief with lavish silverware. But the be all and end all is the Portuguese dinner setting, which features a centerpiece over 10 metres long, all made of silver clad in gold, with pretty dancing girls on it, and the sites of famous battles against Napoleon written on towers. The matching tableware could accommodate dozens of diners. Truly, if I’d just ridden the world of a scourge and military genius, that’s what I’d want.

But there’s more…Louis XVIII of France bestowed the ‘Egyptian’ dinner service, which Napoleon had commissioned for his lady Josephine (as a divorce present – which she refused – so I’m not sure what Louis was trying to say here). However, he also presented Wellington with Napoleon’s own sword, and a bunch of Napoleon’s very own silk banners (which one of the King’s soldiers nicked out of a carriage as Napoleon was escaping out the other side… um, priorities, anyone?). It seems that Nicholas I of Russia was the only one without a dish fetish – he gave a sword too… and a rather beautiful one at that, the hilt all slathered in gold… Dishes and armoury are all shown in the same room, of course.

The rest of the house was blindingly opulent – in a slightly gaudy, very stripey way. There are three drawing rooms, all hung with striped silk wall hangings… so I’m not sure why only one of them is called the Striped Drawing Room. It is, however, the only one striped in candy pink! )Sarah tried nobly to call it ‘cerise’, but I disagree). Apparently such décor will “produce the effect of a military tent” according to the commentary. (Hmmm, I’m starting to wonder if the army is quite as macho as it’s made out to be…). The other drawing rooms are both striped yellow, with matching stripey silk couches – although only one of them is called the Yellow Drawing Room… The last one, overlooking Picadilly, is the Picadilly Drawing Room, which makes much more sense (apart from the bit that involves one deciding that one NEEDS three drawing rooms… I’ve managed to get by without one at all so far…).

I giggled, too, at the polite little signs everywhere “please do not touch this table, as it is very fragile” – hmmm, well, if you take a big fat slab of marble, and prop it up on spindly little carved wooden legs, it probably WILL be very fragile, won’t it…

I should finish by noting that the Duke of Wellington was made ambassador to France (where he received yet another dinner service) and later, entered politics and became prime minister in 1828. His descendents still live in the parts of Apsley House not open to the public.

More floor painting…

After an awesome catchup with my cousin Sam, who it turns out is living just up the road from me, in Fulham, I trundled off to the Oval Theatre to see Yellow Gentlemen, a play that was stage managed by the inconquerable Sarah.

Tonight was closing night, and after the show it was all hands to the wheel to dismantle the set, take down the lights and clear out ahead of a new play moving in on Sunday morning. So I got to run around playing ‘roadie chick’, lugging lights and pretending I knew what I was doing. Was a bit thrilled when someone asked if I’d been doing theatre stuff ever since Sarah came to London (eight years ago). Part of the job involved repainting the stage floor, which had been done over in white for the show - I still have white speckly toes from Tuesday’s adventure – white floors don’t stay white when people walk all over them! Now my boots have black speckly bits too… my boots are black anyway.