British Museum and books

Yesterday morning I was of two minds; would I go to the British Museum or would I go have a look at the British Library and try to get a reader's pass for a month. I finally opted for the British Museum, but clearly the Library would not let go of me, because I passed at least a half a dozen bookstores on the way; for a start the most excellent Blackwell's on Charing Cross Road. I do think that is the nicest Blackwell's in London. Oh most excellent and evil Blackwell's. They offer shipping on the US. Mum, there's a box a comin'...

As my dad would say, one extravagance warrants another, so of course I then saw two more little bookshops in quick succession. A delightfully eccentric lady in one approved of my purchase, and we engaged in a spirited discussion of the author Jonathan Barnes, who he was (and who he wasn't), the particular book I had chosen (The Somnambulist) by same, and a variety of other subjects. She also changed my ridiculous pile of coins (a weighty business here in the UK) into more compact coins. Then an Oxfam store just down the road...

Ouch, said my feet. If you are actually going to go to the museum, you had better get on with it. So, the British Museum.

What can I say about the museum that hasn't been said by a thousand other souls with bone weary feet? Well, for a start, I didn't get through all of it. As per my experience with the V&A, I tried to find the exhibits that I knew I would not like to miss first. I succeeded with the Rosetta Stone; there it was in all it's glory! I fear I did not succeed with the museum's famous collection of ancient jewellery, because it is spread out amongst all the appropriate exhibits. So trek I did; from Assyria to Ur, from Greece to Rome, through Egypt and all about. "Strange animals, statues and gold—everywhere the glint of gold." Etruscan necklaces of extraordinary delicacy - loop-in-loop gold bands made with wire so fine I could barely see it. Greek earrings and necklaces with exquisite pierced-work and covered with granulation; granulation so small I would not be able to distinguish the individual balls without magnification - in perfect patterns. Elaborate Egyptian bead collars; with gold and lapis and carnelian. Breathtaking.

I did look at other things besides jewellery. Rooms full of elegant Greek pots - in beautiful condition. Rows and rows. Assyria, Nimrud, Nineveh, Imgur-Enlil (the Balawat Gates), and much much oh ever so foot-wearingly much more. Pictures coming as soon as I unload my camera, and the batteries recharge.

Now my feet really hurt. I am lurching up and down the stairs. I haven't eaten yet today (it's nearly 3 o'clock). Food and a sit down! But first to obtain the museum's excellent "A to Z guide to the collections"...

A very nice mid-eastern place that looked to be geared mostly for the dinner crowd - it was mercifully empty. I sat, ate, rested my abused feet, and read Penelope Fitzgerald's The Means of Escape.

On my way back, I spotted "Bookmarks" (a - you guessed it - bookstore). Oh, sez I, what a cute name. Well perhaps I won't feel compelled to go in a shop with a cute name. My eye descends to the sign boards below: "A Socialist Bookstore". Oh dear, sez I. I see. BookMarx. Well, I guess I will have to at least look. David, this one's for you! I took pictures. Then I went in. "Pardon me, miss", sez I to the very earnest young lady behind the counter, "perhaps you could recommend some interesting books on Socialism in England to a clueless parent of a sincere and earnest young American Socialist". She was earnestly helpful, and after a few false starts, I walked out of "Bookmarks/x" with ... books.

Right. Enough already. I got lost a little in Soho on the way back and ran into a gorgeous fabric store - The Cloth House. Oh my. 35 pounds for a meter of silk. Even though a meter is slightly greater than a yard - it is only slightly greater. Silks and satins and ribbons, oh my. Mum, that one was for you! I didn't purchase anything there. Well, it was nearly 6 by that time.

In the evening I sat on the floor of my dorm room with my 3 other room mates for the day/evening. England, US and Germany by way of Australia. We were all the gregarious type, so had a lovely chat - until nearly midnight. On a thousand different subjects. And so to bed.