After a lovely lunch with Caryne, I headed off to the exhibition to do today's invigilation stint. It was more entertaining than I thought, though I was a bit disappointed by the place where my embroidery was: it was rather dark and it's so small that it almost disappeared. Lesson to self: be there on hanging day!
Anyway, I sat in a different gallery and worked on the pelicans. There was a strong student element in the exhibition and I spent a few idle minutes wondering if they were Generation Zs or millennials. I wonder if it works like car registrations and starts again at 'A'? There were actually a lot of visitors, whihc is very good for the organisers.
The blend of three different looped soundtracks became mesmerising after about an hour, and blended into a sound soup that threw our aromas of Portugese speech (or possibly Spanish), a rather irritating piano phrase and something grumbly and scary from downstairs. I made a blooper in my embroidery which I'll have to fix today. I also need orange thread if I'm going to do the pelican's beaks correctly- during reproduction season their beaks become very colourful. I hope I've got some at home.
That being said, there is some really excellent art on display: the British imagination has not gone the way of everything else, but is thriving and productive.
I checked in at the hotel I'm staying at, which has a rather unpleasant manager. I thought it was just me, but I spotted him making a family miserable as they checked in later on. What's the point?
Out for a wander, all the food places seemed extremely expensive. I popped down an alley and found a really nice, simple, friendly pizza place called Dough, where I had possibly the most tasty pizza I've ever had in my life. They hadn't over-salted it and I could taste everything. They didn't make faces when I said I wanted water- indeed they offered that and didn't try to up-sell drinks, which is a wonderful thing for a solo traveller.
I thought I'd treat you to the portrait at the bottom of the stairs at the hotel. Shame Churchill couldn't fix the broken shower, isn't it?
in the picture, who's the bloke with the Cigar? Is it Inspector Columbo (Peter Falk)
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