Wednesday, December 31st 2014
The week between Christmas and the New Year is always a strange time. It is as though our society cannot decide whether to go back to work or not and sniffily performs some of its functions but with its mind set on other things.
On Christmas Day I had felt the first symptoms of a head cold and had spent the next few days hugging a box of tissues. Tigger’s workplace opened again on Tuesday, yesterday, but let her go home at midday and so we decided to meet for lunch. I joined Tigger on the bus at the Angel and we disembarked at St Pancras Station, intending to lunch at Carluccio’s on the upper level.
My request for a table was met with a perfunctory “Have you booked? No? Then we have no tables available.” Ho hum. Everywhere else seemed crowded too and we widened our search to King’s Cross, eventually plumping for a pub-restaurant whose menu, posted in the window, offered a couple of vegetarian options. The leek and potato soup was spiked with chilli and the main course – mushroom Wellington – was a disappointment. It presented as a soggy slice of pie unaccompanied by so much as a spoonful of peas or a boiled potato. Then Tigger noticed the waiter sneezing over the butter dish…
All that was left to do was to catch the bus home and make tea. First, though, we went onto the terrace of St Pancras and took a few photos with the winter sun shining on the elaborate façade.
This part of the station complex was opened in 1873 as the Midland Grand Hotel. Having served for some years as offices for the railway company, it fell into disuse and was in serious risk of demolition. Saved from such an ignominious fate, it has been refurbished, part of it being once more a hotel and part, under the name of St Pancras Chambers, luxury apartments.
Here is King’s Cross Station lit by evening sun as seen from the terrace of St Pancras. Built in 1852, King’s Cross is less flamboyant than its dazzling neighbour. It has recently been refurbished and its appearance greatly improved by the removal of a tatty appendage of shops that had been allowed to obscure the front.
Today, Wednesday, Tigger was not released from work until 3pm and I went down to the Borough to meet her. On my way, I noticed some wall art in a narrow passageway called Avon Place.
The passage is narrow, making it impossible to get a good angle from which to photograph the painting. I don’t know who the artist is but the letter ‘B’ seems to be a signature.
Tigger has caught my cold and so we did not dawdle but went straight home
And thus ends yet another year. It’s no doubt only in my imagination but it feels as though the years pass ever more quickly. It seems but yesterday that we were worrying about the Millennium Bug and that is already 15 years in the past!