London Again

Saturday October 16th
Today we drove to Trimley St Mary and then caught the little train from Felixstowe to Ipswich Station. There we caught the Train to Liverpool Street Station in London. This really brought back memories as this had been a trip we had taken often in 2001. Ann and her friend June had plans for the day so Alan and I headed for Leicester Square to sort out some theatre tickets for the afternoon. Ann already had booked tickets to the Mousetrap, and Alan had always wanted to go. I said that I would only go when there was nothing else I hadn’t seen at a price I was willing to pay. In the end the Mousetrap won as there was very little we hadn’t seen and most of what was left was at full price. We managed to get tickets for £18.50 each which is very good even though they were in the 2nd back row of the balcony. So having that sorted for the 4pm matinee, we headed back to tube to get to Bond Street so we could go to the Wallace Collection.

The Wallace Collection is a national museum in an historic London town house. In the galleries are displays of French 18th century painting, furniture and porcelain with superb Old Master paintings and a world class armoury.The photo is of a war Harness for man and hoorse dating from 1480. The collection is housed in Hertford house in Manchester Square. The house itself is quite spectacular and would have needed a army of servants to run it when the family lived there. We wondered how we had never managed to find this place in the past. It has quite a few well known original paintings including The Laughing Cavalier.

From here we went to Covent Garden but there were so many people there it was impossible to fight a path through the crowds so we gave up and walked to St Martin’s Theatre to see The Mousetrap. It was way better than I had imagined it would be. It was a thriller and they ask the audience not to tell anyone the outcome at the end. It is in its 58th year and is the longest running play in the world. It plays to full houses most days.

We finished the evening with a pub meal at Hamilton Hall which sounds grand but is actually the Wetherspoons Pub at Liverpool Street Station. We all felt very old as it was Saturday night in London and it was very lively and loud. The trip back on the train was pretty uneventful apart from a very friendly fella who wasn’t prepared to believe I lived in Ipswich, but he couldn’t work out where I really came from and I refused to let on.