Eltham Palace

As this English heritage property has had a bit of renovation work done on it, I thought I would venture out and have a look.

Eltham was once a real fortified mediaeval palace. King Henry VIII lived there as a boy. So it has a real moat for example..

 And from its moderately lofty perch in South London you can catch glimpses of the City

But the Palace was in a pretty ruinous state by the tarn of the last century with just the great hall surviving (effectively as a barn), but then it was bought by the Coutaulds who built a luxurious modern art deco house next to it in the 1930s. Here you can see the join.

 The old..

 .. and the new

The gardens are splendid, making use of the moat which is part water feature and part lawns with extensive flower borders

 

So here is the great hall of the palace with its magnificent timber ceiling (and a few other tourists). This was made into a gigantic sitting room by the Coutaulds.

The modern house is, unsurprisingly, more suited to living accommodation. It is brilliantly designed, all leading off a circular room, the perfect place to meet and drink with guests.

Some of the guest bedrooms are surprisingly modest, but nice enough,

 The pet ring-tailed lemur had a "room" to himself

 Ginny Courtauld's bedroom is the most lavish, especially the bathroom, but its not ostentatious. They had rather better taste than the modern sheikhs and oligarchs who are almost the definition of too much money and too little idea of what to do with it.

 Her husband's room is more modest.

 From this bedroom wing one comes out onto the minstrel's gallery and so a view over the medieval hall.

 Back downstairs and off the circular room there is another living room essentially used as a gallery for the inevitable collection of Italian paintings and Chinese porcelain, but all tasteful and modest in scale.

The dining room is the most art deco in style of all the rooms.

The basements have now been opened up so one can go into what was used as the bomb shelters in the War. With snooker room of course.

Millwall 0 Coventry 4

Games just don't go this well, or at least not when I attend them. Coventry's best win n two years, and it was a away game at the New Den. Millwall tried to oblige the tactical advice of their fans "Kick him up in the air!" but all it got them were lots of yellow cards.

They got a penalty very early on (exceedingly dubious) which an obviously outraged goalie saved. Then t just got better and better. Three up by half-time, and each goal a cracker. Adam Armstrong, our 18 year old loanee from Newcastle, opened with a long range lob over an over advanced goalkeeper. That was a terrific goal. Then our new signing from Spurs, Lameiras, cut in and surprised the Millwall defence by slotting the ball on the inside post rather than crossing. And for the third Lameiras slotted a peach of a ball slicing open the whole defence, for Armstrong to run onto and finish clinically. That was a real premiership quality goal.

One can see both why Spurs acquired young Lameiras and let him go. Very skilful, although built like a pipe-cleaner, he certainly adds something to the attack which a League One defence doesn't normally face. But lets just say the lad isn't ever going to win a VC for courage on the  front line.

The second half was less extraordinary. But O'Brien added a fourth near the end, which was well-deserved for his endeavour. And to top it all, Millwall missed a sitter at the end.

After two games, City top League One with 6 points and goal difference of six scored and none conceded. Ok, early days, but can't get much better.

The Coventry supporters at one end (plus me in the main stand)

The winners trotting off to clap the fans.

 And then the sun came out. I got the train back to London Bridge, popped out to get the bus and there looming up above me was the shining tower of the Shard.

Imperial War Museum

I hadn't been to the Imperial War Museum since its renovation.

 Memo to self; don't go during a school holiday. Teeming with ankle-biters. Rather lost the atmosphere of the first world war section with the mixed sounds of explosions and giggling children.

What I would say is its well-packed with exhibits now. But to escape the hordes of children I found the art galleries nice, especially the Sargeant room. Below is his most famous canvas - the large painting of gassed, blinded soldiers being led away from the battlefield.

But the one really quiet area is the Holocaust exhibition. Actually rather better than the Berlin equivalent. But one does need cheering up afterwards. No photos allowed, or wanted really. Harrowing.

David Baddiel - work in progress

David Baddiel isn't a stand up comic as such, although he is billed as one. Rather he (now at least) is a purveyor of humorous lectures. He doesn't quite engage with an audience in the way that most comics do. That is not meant as any adverse criticism, just a statement of fact. Indeed our night at the Soho Theatre to see this work in progress (ie a try out of material for a forthcoming show) was very enjoyable. Although, as he announced at the start, it might not feel comfortable for everyone (not least himself). That's because it was based on his dad, suffering from dementia, and his recently deceased mother's sex-life. Both were actually very good (although largely taboo) subjects for comedy and we laughed a lot. As I say, it took the form more of a lecture, and relied heavily on photos and clips, but nothing detracted from the entertainment. Well apart maybe from a very drunken woman in the front row.

Indeed it was a great Friday night altogether. I managed to assemble two of my youngest friends, who just spark off each other so well that we had at least as many laughs over an excellent Chinese meal at Bar Shu (Sichuan cuisine, so not your run of the mill Chinese in Chinatown) and a pint in the pub beforehand as we had at the gig. Couldn't have asked for a better time.

Luna Gale, Sunspots and 36 Phone Calls

A theatre catch up here, all from Hampstead Theatre which is always able to put on new relevant theatre, without needing to be experimental, nor needing to wheel out the 100th new production of an old theatre staple.

Best of these three was Luna Gale. Not a promising subject maybe, an American social worker dealing with a case of neglect of a baby by her druggie young parents. But actually although serious it was by no means grim, and constantly fascinating as the story developed, with the nutty Christian grandmother, her almost as nutty pastor, and the novel line of the social worker suggesting the daughter claim she was abused by her mother's first husband as a way of preventing the woman adopting her grand daughter. Highlight was the pastor helping the social worker pray in her office - truly toe-curling.

But the best thing I can say about it was that despite making one think of social issues, it was always credible and you never felt you were being preached to.

Sunspots was a rather lovely tale of a nerdy and semi-autistic young man who gets into a relationship with a girl he had been spying on with his late father's telescope. Like Luna Gale, a number of twists in the plot keep it interesting, including that his father was spying on the same house rather than looking at sunspots. A gay older brother, put upon older sister and mother with dementia complete the cast. The dotty mother appearing with her vacuum cleaner at all the worst moments was a nice leit motif.

36 Phone Calls was the least impressive of the plays in the Downstairs theatre. Not that it was bad, but merely disappointing. One man (Lee Ross) plays are always hard to carry off. This had a promising idea. We were to learn of how this accountant's life was falling apart through a series of phone calls, just him calling or being called. He was separated from his wife, so we had calls with his wife, his kids, his lover as well as a dodgy client and mates. Hearing only one side of the calls was a good idea.  Its best bits were a few good funny lines, and a rather touching conversation of instructing his young son how to cook pancakes. It was good, but not that good.

Reginald D Hunter

Often described as controversial. And he was this night too.

Let me just say I like Reginald a lot. And not because he is the funniest laugh a minute comic. Rather because he is thoughtful. One enjoys his stories, even if you don't necessarily fall about laughing. He is interesting. He also has a very pleasant way of speaking. Respectful.

And this evening I had seats in the third row, which is obviously very nice at the huge Apollo. Intimate.

But this gig ended rather uncomfortably. Some people (Jimmy Carr say) just annihilates hecklers. Reginald felt the need to listen to them. And this was a mistake. After a long joke about a platonic friend of his being raped, who had tried to get on with her life and not make a fuss and not call the police, he apologised to her on behalf of all men. She said he didn't need to do as she knew he wouldn't ever have done anything like that, to which his punchline was, but I never knew you wouldn't call the police.

"That's not funny called one woman." Problem was, after 1100 people have just laughed, well it really was. What she meant was she didn't like it, but in common with all the self-righteous, personal views aren't personal but are objectively right. Really he shouldn't have let the "debate" continue. We don't come to gigs to listen to ignorant members of the public. We can go down the pub for that. Reginald was visibly a bit upset by the whole thing, and while it made for a memorable end, it wasn't quite the way you want a comedy gig to finish.

But if you ever get the chance, do go to see Reginald. Unless you are the sort of person who can't tell the difference between jokes and advocacy, or who desperately want to be offended.