Meat Loaf and Bat Out of Hell

I wrote an entry a while ago, while I was in London, about seeing Bat Out of Hell: The Musical. On my return trip through London, late one night I was flipping through the channels on the hotel's TV and I ran across this video.



A weird blast from the past, but the song is as amazing--in all its overwrought ways--as ever. This original video for the song is a suitable companion to it.

Enjoy.

I'm flying home tomorrow

and getting up super early to begin the long journey home.  So, tonight's blog is simple:  it was a good trip, and I'll miss London.

More later.

Too much great food

Chef Brett Graham of The Ledbury, where I ate last night, operates another restaurant, the only gastropub with a Michelin star, The Harwood Arms.  Thanks to the help of a friendly server, Sam, at The Ledbury last night, I was able to enjoy a late lunch today at The Harwood Arms.

The food was simply great, British classics redone with such skill, superb ingredients, and excellent presentation that you would scarcely believe how good each was.

Many years ago, I was part of the foolish group of people that said there was no good English food.  How wrong I was.  Restaurants like The Clove Club, The Ledbury, and The Harwood Arms prove that not only is there good English food, there is superb, world-class English food.

The only problem with two such meals in two days is that they represent entirely too much food, so I am now in a food coma and useful only for reading and stretching out in bed.  To which I will now return.

Still lazy in London

I slept late in a delightfully cool room and then walked not quite a mile to see a new play, The Ferryman.  After picking up tickets, I grabbed a quick lunch at a nearby Shake Shack--sue me for eating at a U.S.-based chain, but it was just what I wanted--and then entered the theatre.

I need to do a longer review of this play later, but as the title of this post notes, I'm still lazy in London.  Suffice for now to say that though the play was emotionally devastating, it was absolutely brilliant.  After three acts and about two and a half hours of watching the play, I leapt to my feet to join a well-deserved standing ovation.  If you get a chance to see this play, do not miss it.

Dinner was at another of my favorite London restaurants and another of the top 50 restaurants in the world, The Ledbury.  The meal was awesome from start to finish, a true world-class feast.  If you can afford the admittedly high cost, eat at The Ledbury.

Now, to read, and then to crash.

Too late, too late

One thing led to another, and suddenly it's after two in the morning, and I want to crash.  Today involved low food--cheap Chinese noodles and a very long hot dog--and odd culture, including the wonderful John Soane house, a surprisingly fun and interesting tour of the huge Masonic Grand Lodge here, and the fun movie, The Hit Man's Bodyguard.

More later, I hope, but now, to sleep.

I'm back in London

I spent four hours sitting in the First Class car of a Virgin train today, riding the rails from Edinburgh to London, and I have to say that it was an entirely lovely experience.  From the lunch and non-stop beverages, to the free Wi-Fi access (slow but good enough for email), to the absolutely gorgeous views of Scotland and England, the trip was great.  The only way it could have been better would have been to offer more legroom; the guy across from me and I shared our space amiably, but I would have liked to stretch out my legs more.

Upon arriving in London, I took a taxi to and settled into my hotel, picked up some beverages, worked a bit, and then headed out to dinner at The Clove Club.  That meal was sufficiently amazing, and it is sufficiently late here as I write this, that I am going to save a discussion of it for a separate blog entry.

Now, it's time to crash.

In which I am satisfied and then unsatisfied

After a wonderfully long night of sleep and a rather heavy lunch, I spent quite some time in the National Gallery on Trafalgar Square.  I visited with some old friends, such as Van Gogh's autobiographical Chair, which never fails to speak to me,

Click an image to see a larger version.  

and Monet's stunning The Water-Lily Pond, which is so much more magnificent than my awkward photo can convey.

By the way, the odd angles in many of these photos come from having to fight the crowds for a moment in which I could take the pictures.

I also finally got to see the museum's two Da Vinci pieces, The Virgin of the Rocks 

and the drawing (also known as a "cartoon"), The Virgin and Child with Saint Anne and Saint John the Baptist,

which was incredible, detailed, and moving.

On the way to the Da Vinci's, I was privileged to be able to enjoy two Durer pieces that were on two sides of a board.  This one, A Heavenly Body, is quite possibly about the end of the world, which made me like the irony of the way my face and hands appear in this photo.

Sorry, though for obscuring your view of the painting.

After admiring and studying quite a few lovely pieces by one of my favorites, Botticelli, the museum was nearing closing time and my eyes were nearing the melting point, so I headed outside.  From the entrance balcony at first and from ground level later, I enjoyed a street show.

The performers showed a bunch of dance and gymnastic moves, as well as sculpted bodies, to the admiring crowd.  With good patter and a charming presence, they kept everyone entertained and, I hope, made enough money to make the show worth doing.

Evening took me to The Old Vic for one of the season's hot shows, Girl from the North Country.

Conor McPherson wrote and directed the play, which centered on a boarding house of intriguing characters in Duluth, Minnesota in 1934 and which featured nearly two dozen Bob Dylan songs.

I entered the theatre with high expectations and left it unsatisfied.  The songs were good, of course, and they worked well with the story.  The actors delivered impeccable performances one and all, each inhabiting their role fully.  The story painted a vivid picture of a desperate America dealing with both extreme poverty and racial strife.  Every element I expected from the play was there...except that all it did was show the darkness and suffering, it did not illuminate it or add any new insights or, to its detriment, offer more than the smallest shred of hope.  Mind you, I don't need every piece of art to offer hope, but if a play is to wallow in human darkness, I'd like it to show me that darkness in a new way, or perhaps point a path out of the darkness--even if it never walks that path.  Maybe we need more art that forces us to confront the dire situations of those less privileged; I am inclined to believe we do.  I just wish this play had done more than show all that pain.

Bat Out of Hell: The Musical

Well, that happened.

Click an image to see a larger version.

Yes, as a long-time fan of this great album, Steinman's music, and, embarrassingly, Meat Loaf, I could not miss this show once I knew I'd be in London.

The reviews called the show correctly:  great songs (we knew that), a cast that did them justice (some were weak, some were merely good, but the lead was extremely strong, and no one sucked), lots of spectacle, and a weak story to hold it all together.

When the cast broke into the finale number ("I'd Do Anything for Love (but I Won't Do That)"), I have to admit that the show had won my heart and even brought a tear of joy to my eyes.  I was particularly happy to see that in addition to the two main male-female couples getting together, the choreography included male-male, female-female, and even a poly (three people) group celebrating their love.

Love is love, folks, and the more we celebrate it in all its forms, the more we acknowledge that we are all free to love anyone of any type we want, the better the world will be.

I would have bought a cast CD if there was one, but, alas, it does not exist, so I opted instead for a program.

While roaming the streets for a while after the show, I came across this lovely establishment.

It almost made me wish I drank alcohol.

As happy coincidence would have it, over on an edge of Covent Garden, a street singer was doing a passable cover of Neil Young's "Hey Hey My My."  I enjoyed hearing "rock and roll will never die" not long after watching a rock musical.

Finally, for the many folks who sent me notes asking what I would do now that Coca-Cola is phasing out Coke Zero, I'm happy to report that here in London I am already embracing the future.

It's pretty much Coke Zero, a little softer but not different in any way I care about.

So, I'll be good on the soda front as the Coke people make this brand change.

I had planned to end the blog there, but after an early dinner--I do plan to crash hard tonight--I emerged from a nearby Indian restaurant just in time to catch this amazing sky.

The pink area in the middle was the star of the moment; I fear my phone photo does not do it justice.

Heading to Helsinki

Early evening this Friday, I'll head to Europe for about two and a half weeks, a time centered around the World Science Fiction Convention (WorldCon) in Helsinki. This event is the first WorldCon in Finland, and it's also my first trip to Finland--or any Scandinavian country.

I don't know yet what, if anything, I'll be doing officially at the con, but I'll definitely be going to the usual events, some panels, and so on.  If you're also going to be there, drop me a note if you'd like to get together, and we can try to make that happen.

Sandwiched around the con will be some time in London and in Edinburgh--my first trip to that city and to Scotland.

I will, of course, report on my adventures here.

Heading home tomorrow

Today's highlights included some lovely time in the British Museum, a little wandering in the shops of Covent Garden, and a fun and ultimately touching musical based on a movie, The School of Rock.

In the morning, I get up way too early to begin the long trek home.

I will force myself to stay up late tomorrow night, endure the dreaded spring forward, and hope to awaken Sunday feeling more or less like I'm in the right time zone.

The three highlights of a wonderful London day

Touring a lot of the Impressionist section of the National Gallery and getting to see half a dozen Van Gogh works, including the remarkable Sunflowers.

Watching raptly The Old Vic's production of Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead, in which the entire cast, notably stars Daniel Radcliffe, Joshua McGuire, and David Haig, were superb.  This time around, I found the ending particularly touching.

Eating and enjoying a world-class dinner at The Ledbury, a restaurant that deserves every accolade it's received.

Wow, what a day.

Quick highlights of another grand day

I keep failing to do detailed blog reports, because between mostly vacationing and having to cram in multiple hours of work, I find myself late at night, the blog in front of me, and a choice between filling it or getting a good amount of sleep.  This trip, I'm choosing sleep.

A few highlights from today will have to suffice.

I spent hours renewing old artistic friendships at the Tate Britain and touring its extensive David Hockney retrospective.

I enjoyed the best tikka masala sauce I've ever tasted at a little place round the corner from here, Strand Tandoori.

I also sampled, for the second time this trip, some of the best gelato I've had anywhere, courtesy of La Gelateria.

Another fine day.

Wow, what a day

It's after three a.m. here, so I'm going to keep this very short.  Today was a very powerful day indeed.  I'll explain more in future entries, but I spent a lot of time in the Tate Modern, to interesting results; saw a fun and moving play, The Girls; and had a late and absolutely wonderful dinner at L'Atelier Robuchon.

I ended up having to put in a few hours of work, but otherwise, the day was perfect.

More in future entries.

Pleasant surprises at the National Portrait Gallery

I am not now and have never been a fan of royalty.  I found the part of European history where I was supposed to memorize the order of the English kings and queens to be more annoying than fun.  So, though I have wanted to tour the National Portrait Gallery here, I entered it with some trepidation.

I left rather pleasantly surprised.  To be sure, the bulk of the portraits are of royals, and most of them left me cold.  What I ended up quite liking, however, were many of the paintings of literary and scientific figures, as well as some of the sections that brought key moments in history to life.

For example, I was happy to get to study John Taylor's (we think) portrait of Shakespeare, which I've of course seen many times in reproduction.

Click an image to see a larger version.

Equally pleasing to see were portraits of John Donne

and Ben Jonson, looking more than a bit harried.

Whether you're a fan of royals or, like me, more in it for other historical figures, I recommend spending a few pleasant hours in the halls of the National Portrait Gallery.

The trip so far, the journey ahead

As I write this entry, it's about four-thirty in the morning back home and nine-thirty a.m. here in London's Heathrow airport.  I am well along in my travels, but still far from my destination.

The trip began with a ride to the airport and a flight to JFK.  I flew on Delta, where I have no privileges, but I was lucky enough to score an extra-leg-room seat, so I was reasonably comfortable.

In JFK, I walked for what seemed like a mile or more, first to reach baggage claim, then to catch the train to another terminal, and finally to check into my American Airlines flight to Heathrow.

I spent several hours in the flagship Admirals Club there, which not only offered for free all of my typical travel beverages of choice, it also provided a lovely little workspace.

Click an image to see a larger version.

Power to charge multiple devices, a good desk, and room for beverages; it's hard to ask for more.

I was in business class for the flight to Heathrow, so I was quite comfortable the entire way.  The only problem is that the trip lasts only five and a half hours, which after eating and watching a short movie leaves very little time for what passes for sleep on a plane.  Still, I managed to grab about 90 minutes of low-quality sleep.

I'm spending some hours here in the arrivals lounge because the car I hired to take me to Gatwick won't arrive until nearly eleven.  This is also a fine place to pass time, though, with comfortable chairs for working and reading, plus a sort of build-it-yourself British breakfast.  I kept my version simple by avoiding the tomato and mushroom bits.

If you click the image to expand it, you'll be able to seen the spoonful of beans in the upper right of the plate; I felt they were necessary to fulfill the plate's potential.

From here, I'll spend an hour or so in the car going to Gatwick, check in and check baggage, and ultimately fly to Florence.  With Brexit I'm not sure how security will work there, but I will find out.

By the time I hit my hotel, it'll be around nine in the evening Florence time.  I am quite looking forward to a real bed.

A quick note before bed

It's late here, I have yet to pack, and I want to grab some sleep before the very long flight, because I don't sleep well--if at all--on planes.  So, I'll keep this short.

My first adventure today was to follow recommendations and check out the Tower Bridge.  It's a nifty structure whose middle raises--though not today--and one that offers amazing views of London.

Click an image to see a larger version.

The small section of glass floors was cool, but photographing through it with my phone did not work as well as I had hoped.

Next up was a return visit to the British Museum, again to follow a commenter's recommendation, this time to see the Sutton Hoo exhibit.  (I caught more while I was there, of course, but this exhibit brought me back.)  It was a small but powerful show, with a nifty selection of artifacts from Britain around 600 A.D.  I particularly liked this battle helmet, which was amazingly well preserved and then restored,

as well as this replica of what they think the helmet once looked like.

The final big event of the day was a play, the musical Kinky Boots, which comes from the movie of the same name.  A romp with a serious message of acceptance--tolerance is not enough, acceptance must be the goal--this play was fun from start to finish.

Now, to pack, to sleep a bit, and then to begin the long journey home.

Busy, busy

I don't think I will ever see all of the British Museum, but I visit it each time I'm in London.  My progress is slow, though, because there are so many exhibits that I like to see again.  Today, I spent most of my time in the Egyptian sections, which are obviously huge and so take a lot of time even if you're only browsing.

After that, I popped over to the Shaftesbury Theatre to catch the musical, Motown.  Long on music and short on accuracy, the show was both fun and, at times, a touching quick trip through some of America's fairly recent past.  I don't feel I learned anything about Berry Gordy, but the story served as an adequate framing device for the many, many songs, and they were great.  (I should note here that I am a Motown fan, so I already knew all of these tunes.)  As long as you go just for the music, this show is a blast.

Dinner tonight was at one of London's finest restaurants, in my opinion possibly its finest, The Ledbury.  I had eaten there on my last trip to London, and that meal was fantastic, so I wanted to see if a second visit would prove to be as good.  It most certainly did.  I cannot recommend The Ledbury highly enough.

I'd write more, but it's quite late, and I'm very tired, so to sleep I go.

Fascinating obsessions

Today's two main adventures both involved obsessive men, though men with very different sorts of obsessions.

After sleeping late but poorly (as usual), I devoted much of the afternoon to Sir John Soane's Museum.  Dave and MarkP had both recommended it, and boy, were they right to do so!  The place is simply fantastic, in many senses of that word.  I have no pictures to show you, because they do not permit photography, but if you are in London and have any free time whatsoever, I highly recommend it.

Basically, Soane managed to get Parliament to pass a law letting his house become a museum after his death--something he did because he did not want to pass his fortune to his son.  Soane, an architect, built over his lifetime a fabulous collection of books, sculpture, paintings, and drawings.  The house is very close to the way it was when he died in 1837.

A house full of books and art collected heavily from contemporaries and near-contemporaries; hmmm, I wonder why Dave and I like it so much.

In any case, it is a wonderful, wonderful place.  Do not miss it.

Back in Barcelona, eating at Nino Viejo, I chatted with a British couple.  They mentioned that Albert Adria was doing a pop-up version of Tickets in London.  Called 50 Days by Albert Adria, it is one of the hottest tickets in London.  I immediately joined the wait list for it, and by good luck I was able to go tonight.

It was an excellent experience, in the classic Adria style both dinner and a show.  The chefs employed a great many modernist techniques, so what you saw was often different than what you tasted.  Sometimes, though, they went for very simple, very pure but delicious dishes, such as this thin slice of tuna with caviar atop it.

Click the image to see a larger version.

At every stage, the very good staff stressed having fun, and I certainly did.  My only complaint was a small one:  the courses felt a bit rushed.  I would have preferred a minute or two more between each one.  That was, though, a small preference.

Today was day 17 of the pop-up, so if you're going to be in London in the next 33 days, get on the wait list and enjoy a world-class dinner and a fun show, all in one.

Tomorrow, I hope to have at least three adventures!

Foolish fun, foodie fun

My morning went to sleep and email.  Walking consumed most of the afternoon, but the walking led to moments of foolish fun.

Isn't this connector marvelous?

Click an image to see a larger version.

I love it.  I do not care for the notion that an American burger-and-fries chain sits on the corner, but so capitalism goes.

Just down the street I encountered this sign, which I absolutely adore.

Don't get me wrong:  I understand there's a lot that's very wrong about this sign.  That's part of why I like it so much.

London even treated me to some sunshine today.

Further along, on the way to the London Eye, I encountered this carousel.

When on holiday you encounter a carousel with no waiting queue, you have only one choice:  you must ride it.  So I did.  The horses proved to have names, so I chose the one named after my friend and business partner.

That it was pink and heavily made up only increased the humor for me.

If you know me well, you know I have a fear of heights.  So, you might reasonably ask, why would I voluntarily board this beast?

Because there's no time like the present to redefine one's self, says I.  So, on it I went.  My pulse was racing at first, but the cabins are as big as rooms, and the pace is slow and constant, so over time I relaxed and quite enjoyed the views, such as this one of that same carousel.

And this shot of Big Ben from above.

Later, I encountered the same landmark from a more traditional perspective.

Dinner tonight took me to another fantastic restaurant, Adam Handling at The Caxton.  I'd eaten Handling's cooking at the 2015 Cayman Cookout, and it was wonderful, so I was excited to go to his restaurant.

He did not let me down.  The food was superb from start to finish.  Inventive, whimsical, and always delicious, Handling's creations were a joy to eat.  The meal was absolutely world-class, and I recommend this restaurant highly.

Another fine day in London.

Remarkable London experiences

Today, I was fortunate enough to have two wonderful experiences.

The first was a matinee of the musical, Mrs. Henderson Presents.  Alternately funny and moving, the play focused tightly on the story of a single theater, The Windmill.  At the same time, in so doing it delivered a meditation on the importance of theater, and by implication, all art, for all of us.  I left the Noel Coward Theatre still processing it, and now, late at night, I have yet to fully absorb it.

The other was an astonishing dinner at The Araki.  Chef Mitsuhiro Araki and his team produced not only the best (by far) sushi dinner that I have ever eaten, but also one of the more memorable dinners of any type that I've been privileged to enjoy.  The meal is insanely expensive, and the restaurant holds only ten people, but if you can afford it, I recommend it highly.

It's cold and overcast here, but I don't care.  It's great to be in London.