Another Rainy Day in London …..

Last Saturday was of course Bastille Day, and it is celebrated by London’s French community with various - mainly outdoor – activities.  I had yanked myself out of the old snore-vehicle at an early time, donned my Bastille Day scarf  - Feux d’Artifice – and dragged my tired self to the coach to London, intent on partaking of the festivities in the company of some favourite friends.

But things did not work out well.  Rain rain rain ruined the atmosphere, and before too long I suggested what I always suggest when things get sticky in London:  ‘Let’s hail a cab and go to the Club!’  Since I was not the only one who was cold and wet my suggestion was taken up with alacrity, and ere too soon we were decanted in Pall Mall.

For some weird reason we were the only ones who haunted the Club that day.  In the restaurant six eager waiters hovered around our table and pounced whenever we evinced any sign of needing service.  As a result we ate and drank rather more than was usual at this hour, and our conversation took a distinctly Wodehouseian turn. 

We fell into discussing the advantages and disadvantages of aunts (‘overrated!’) and butlers (‘insupportable!’) and whether we ought to motor down to Huntingdonshire and spend the remainder of the day at K’s country house.  Having dismissed the notion that his wife might object or his father throw a fit we crammed into another cab and drove direction Paddington Station.  Upon arrival K confessed that he did not have a country house in Huntingdonshire.  D said she did not mind, she would be happy to go to one of the larger counties instead – where exactly was his country house?  K confessed that he did not have one at all.  D failed to be discouraged, and invited us all to go to K’s London pad instead.  K confessed that he did not have enough room to swing a cat, after which unfortunate remark – D is very fond of animals – D stormed off in a huff, carrying with her K’s umbrella (it was still raining).  K looked decidedly dejected, so I told him ‘Pip pip and tally ho, dash it, old bean, what a ripping day we had,’ and detached myself from his morose company before he could borrow my umbrella.

 

Trickling back to Marble Arch I remembered that the main attraction of this little blog are my amazing photos, and took a few of the Horse’s Head that graces its environs.  The head has been there since June 2009, but somehow I never had my camera handy before.

I had chosen a good day, for what did I discover but another statue across the street!  It is a Horse? Reindeer?  Sleipnir?  Anyway a mythological looking steed mounted by a Mongolian warrior type.  I immediately thought of Gengis Khan and took lots of pictures.

Upon returning home and a bit of googling I found that I had been quite right.  The 16ft tall (5m) statue depicts the legendary leader wearing Mongolian armour on his steed.  The sculpture is by Dashi Namdakov and will remain at its current position until early September.