Trip to a small island

Back from Granada and into the swing of London again. On the 17th of June, we headed into London for a London Walk. This time the London Kensington Pub Walk.

Amongst the gems of knowledge imparted to us included the origin of the term ‘daylight robbery’. At one stage in England’s past, the government of the day had a window tax. It soon became the strategy of householders to brick up windows to save on tax – hence the term that the government is now robbing us of daylight. As with many of these origins, the bricked up window became an architectural feature of future houses.

The walk wound its way through the back streets of Kensington, past mock Tudor houses, old stables or Mews turned into trendy houses, Ava Gardner’s house, an MI5 discovered Russian Dead letter drop and the original Harrods store that is now apartments.

A favourite pub was the ‘Bunch of Grapes’.

Incredible décor. In fact, I took a picture inside the pub and a few minutes later was accosted by a woman claiming to be George Bush’s wife.

She wanted the camera and for me to delete the photo as it is not permissible for anyone to take the picture of George Bush’s future wife. When I got home, I enlarged the picture and sure as eggs, there she was, sitting in a corner of the photo where I hadn’t spotted her, having a beer and a smoke. She was a sight and if George knocks her back, I hope that her future is not spoilt.

We finished off near one of the trendy clubs frequented by Princes Willie and Harry but they weren’t in that night. Incidentally, we weren’t invited in. So we adjourned to a nearby pub and had a chin wag with some newly arrived aussies.

Talk about doing it tough. They were staying in a one bedroom place nearby shelling out ₤900 a month rent. Wow!

He was working as a carpenter for an English builder. He hadn’t been paid for nearly a month. His boss had gone to Spain for the weekend forgetting to pay him. In fact, while we were in the pub, his boss rang and promoted him to site foreman. But where was the money?

The next night we went to a dance at the Rivoli Ballroom. Unfortunately I failed to take my camera that night and thus, missed out on pictures of this incredible ballroom that has not changed one iota from the late 1940s or early 1950s. i swear you could feel the ghosts of servicemen and women, dancing to the tunes of Benny Goodman, Glen Miller and the big Swing orchestras of the day.

Next time take the camera!