This blog was going to be called A Tale of Two Cities; London, and Amsterdam. On Friday night, Charlie and I were in Amsterdam on a tiny break, happily celebrating my birthday. We rolled in to bed late, and woke to grim news on Saturday morning.
P A R I S
So, let’s start with a moments’ reflection. Paris is a city that we know (in parts) pretty well, really, because I guess that twice a year for however long it is now, Bridie and I have made a trip – sourcing and buying for the shop. Here are some quiet photographs from the last trip that we made, that sort of capture my mood.
Our thoughts are with every Parisian at this time – and especially with Colin, here in the office in London, who’s worked for so long now looking after our shop website (and this blog).
A M S T E R D A M
To be honest I wasn’t sure whether to carry on writing. But I think in bad times, it’s good to know that in a sense, the best of life carries on as normal. And the one thing I feel sure of is that now, more than ever, it’s doubly important to carry on as normal. We must pause and reflect; and realise that the world is full of horror – but in my view, it’s much more full of hope, and happiness, and beauty, humour, friendship, collaboration and fun. I’m an optimist. So I hope you don’t mind. That’s what this blog is going to be about. We had a wonderful time; I’d like to share that even more than usual.
We’d decided on a little trip a few weeks ago.
Charlie said the one place, the only place, he really wanted to visit was the Restaurant de Kas, the famous Amsterdam restaurant in an old 19th century glasshouse where they grow all their own food in the gardens and on a local farm. If you know Charlie, you’d know that that is totally up his street. But by the time we’d got ourselves organised, bookings were completely full.
We got to our hotel to see if there was any chance they could find us a table for Friday or Saturday night. They called… everything was full up… unless we wanted to come for lunch, um, now? We jumped in a cab and dashed across town.
The glasshouse was bathed in beautiful sunshine, and we started a dream meal.
At which point the heavens opened and a massive rainstorm swept in.
We left after the most delicious lunch and pottered around the potager in the rain.
Before hopping across the road to meet my old employee John who lived round the corner. We meet for a beer, which turned into another, and another, and the sun came streaming through the clouds as we put the world to rights. It was a lovely catch up….
And incredibly useful too, as local knowledge mapped out a plan or two for the following day…
History doesn’t relate the rest of Friday night. Zoe, who runs the office, had delivered a bottle of champagne to our room, and that was that. We had a great time!
On Saturday morning we set out to see Amsterdam. The giant sign outside the Rijksmuseum seemed to be the most popular attraction in town…
….. but the ice rink preparations seemed to be a little behind London, I had a feeling.
There were no queues at all to the Rijksmuseum as we walked by, and we thought to ourselves that there was no better time that the present. And even if The Night Watch was a little busy (nothing compared to later…)
…nothing else was, and we enjoyed so many spectacular paintings and objects and sights that we cannot wait to visit again. In fact I came away thinking that I must (must, Must MUST) spend a little more time looking at the treasures here at home in London. Somehow, there’s never time – but it’s a shame to only to make time to see things when you’re away. Occupational hazard.
Vemeer was of course a dream.
But so many other unknown treasures caught my eye:
And looking beyond the subject matter I dreamed of the perfect, soft, beautiful colours and thought how fine they would look in rooms that we are decorating (I hope that isn’t disrespectful to paintings?)…
Sensational petrol, olive, grey, pale yellows…
And staring at some of these paintings reminded me that the world has always been a place of strange violence.
The Rijksmuseum library is astonishing and beautiful, like a dream But I was thrilled to see even here my favourite kick stool.
More treasures were in store.
I loved these modern stained glass panels following the recent restoration.
Easily missed, I think, but stunning, are the delft rooms and special collections downstairs.
Of which perhaps the most amazing was the Navy Model Room.
Every detail of these model boats was perfect, including the tiny signs.
We dragged ourselves away vowing to return.
And then we pottered and meandered, taking life in;
Drinking in Amsterdam’s quiet monochrome beauty:
Pottering about in markets,
Dreaming of buying entire sets of 1920s Belgian china, but not quite sure if it would fit in our hand baggage.
(few photographs require a commentary, but the following is included merely to prove my rule that everyone ultimately ends up looking like their dog): We bought some wonderful souvenirs in this little children’s vintage bookshop:
And every blog needs to contain a photo of a great old Merc somewhere.
We ended our huge walk at the Botanical Garden which I’d visited years before with Monica, and never forgotten.
The giant water lily had gone in to retreat. Here it is lurking in its pond… waiting for another year.
The garden, though out of season, was beautiful… The back of the perfect orangery where we had tea and cake.
And then we walked home, through streets increasingly wet and stormy, loving the wide tall windows and beautiful apartments on display (Amsterdam does not like curtains)…
And back to our beautiful hotel, the Conservatorium, whose conversion from 19th century music school to 21st century building was confident and superb.
New storms flooded in, and that was fine because Charlie and I had already decided nothing could be nicer than staying in our room and ordering room service and watching a rom com…. sometimes the best thing you can do when you’re away. And we had a lazy Sunday morning, and then caught the early flight home, and pottered around in London, which is always the nicest thing to do at the end of any trip – however short – to feel happy and blessed at having arrived home.
L O N D O N
And this is how the blog was going to end, back in London – and with a tiny bit of news that fills me with great happiness, even if it is a bit inconsequential. If you are a regular blog reader, you will doubtless remember about my Roque Map of London that just somehow, just somehow, perfectly fitted the back wall of our flat here in London. Here is a photograph from sometime a couple of years ago.
The map has been consistently one of the most questioned items in our flat. “Where did you get the map?” “How can I get a copy?”. The problem was it was the last ever print made, back in the 70s… well, you can read the whole story in the link above.
Well, at last, it gives me huge pleasure to say that Bridie and I, together with Giles Margery who’s father printed the first map, have been able to sort a new reproduction. We’ve been working on this project for 2 years now. And it’s arrived in the shop this week. Here is the link. It’s been beautifully bound in pink card covers, so you can use it like a book – or cut out the sheets and frame it just like mine.
And I can’t help but think – that’s a small bit of good news. The Rocque Plan is back.
I hope you have a very good, safe week.