Mizzle

The day I took these pictures I learned a new word: my Cornish friend Mimi held out a hand to the rain and declared it a mizzle--somewhere between mist and a drizzle.

 The poor, wet pigeon

A walk along the River Avon 

 It was a cold, wet day, one of my last in Bath. I took a walk to say goodbye to the city. I find goodbyes just as important as hellos, because they mean you agreed to an end.

Literary London

My friends, so many things have happened in the past few months. I have been everywhere from Durham to Wales, and have been visited by three ghosts a retinue of friends from Sweden and Singapore. Here. Look at my pictures.

I went to London with my Londonian friend Katie. We stayed at her parents' house in Lewisham. 

She comes from a very literary family and loves books with all her heart, Charles Dickens in particular. To her name, she has three first editions: Little Dorrit, Dombey and Son, and Nicholas Nickleby. Her family owns Our Mutual Friend. 

We would begin our days with tea and honey toast in the bright kitchen.  

Her mother and father both enjoy gardening, but her father is the one to tend the roses. He once went around London with a bag of hollyhock seeds and planted them wherever he saw fit. His wife calls it "guerilla gardening." 

For our first day out on our literary tour of London, I dressed appropriately. 

In the Dickens Museum 

Trying on Victorian hats and dresses 

We had tea and cake in the museum garden.

London requires lots of traveling by the underground. After the Dickens Museum, we managed a trip to the Museum of London before our feet gave out. I would highly recommend it just for the Victorian walkthhrough and World War II display. I almost bought a top hat in the souvenir shop, but settled for a quill pen.

We visited Borough Market the next morning, the oldest and largest food market in London.

The buildings were built in 1851, but the market itself dates back several hundred years.

  After Borough Market, we walked along the Thames to Covent Garden. 

We met all sorts of people along the way.

I suppose no trip to Covent Garden is complete without a stop at the Moomin Shop.

This cashier and I had a nice chat.  

"Who's your favourite character?" he asks.

"Snufkin," I say without hesitation. 

He rolls up his sleeve. "Me too." 

Weston-super-Mare

Today I went to the seaside. My friend Katie is writing a novel composed of short stories which take place in a cafe in a declinging seatown. On Friday we wondered: why not really go to the seaside to see what we can see? Said and done. We looked up train times and dedided that yes, Monday would be a good day, and off we went!

Katie in sneakers, me in my new boots

 It rained.

The first glimpse of the iron sea 

 

Gazebos along the shoreline 

Pose, I said, and he did. 

It was a cold day, a wet day. I hesitate to call it spring when it felt so much like winter. Still the lonely shores were comforting. Despite the blustery weather, I found my thoughts turning towards sunny Singapore. Something about the architecture, the wrough-iron gates and fences, the manicured promenade of Weston-super-Mare made me think of Sentosa in its olden, golden days. #bringbackthemonorail

We had arrived in time for lunch and we dined at the Victorian Cafe. 

We had a laugh at the fudge boxes. Gran's box has flowers, Grandad's has classic cars and trains, and Dad's toffee box has a set of golf clubs, a soccer ball, and a drag racing car. My dad wouldn't like any of those, and I'm pretty sure I'm more into classic cars and steam engines than my grandpappy ever was.   

 Fish and chips! What else?

And mushy peas. Because it's England and I had to try.

Then we worked on manuscripts.

We bought donuts and I asked the donut guy to get a picture of us. 

We took a walk along the shore and found fresh adventures. 

And then we chanced upon an abandoned pier. Since its closure in 1972, there have been several attempts at its revival but nothing has been done. It lingers under people's good intentions. 

It cries in rust,

arthritic knees creak under wind.

Can I see the doctor now?

No?

Then when?

And at long last, the clouds turned whispy and broke apart because after rain comes sun, always.