Leaving my troglodyte friend behind, I went out to explore my town this morning. The sky was full of the grey clouds of doom, so I only rode my bike to my apartment to pick up my camera and not across town. This was probably all for the better as I didn't have to drag the bike around everywhere I went – plus the weather rewarded my faintheartedness with brilliant sunshine and no rain whatsoever.
I went to Petticoat Lane and Spitalfields markets first, seeing, hearing, smelling but buying nothing. Later, drifting around, I walked by the remnants of the Roman city walls. They have a curious history in that they were forgotten for most of the recent past because they were hidden out of sight until the Germans cleared the houses built on top of them when they bombed London in 1940, not exactly to cheers from archaeologists or residents.
From the walls it was only a little walk to St. Paul's Cathedral and from there across Millennium Bridge to Tate Modern. I guess that was my goal all along. I love the weightless elegance of the bridge, the river below and the views across London's waterfront. Of course I couldn't help entering the Tate, despite the sun blazing outside. I just can't pass by a modern art museum.
Dalí was the star of the special exhibit, but I wasn't ready to spend eleven pounds on half an hour of bliss, and I didn't want to stay inside much longer. So I constrained myself mostly to the book stores and gift shops. When I have a bank account, which should happen sometime next week, I'll get a Tate + Guest membership. Then special exhibits will be free for me and a guest. You'd better be ready for it when you visit.