Kensington Palace

Last week, we finally made it to Kensington Palace, with BH having been dropping hints about the place for years. What finally swung it was the need to get more value out of our membership of Hampton Court Palace; FIL had been glaring at us from up on his cloud.

Five trolleys neatly parked on Station Approach. Marked down for attention later, then forgotten.

A young man, who for once in a while was taking his lady for a day out in London on the train, and who spent nearly the entire journey making very important phone calls to do with his very important work. I think his lady gave up in the end and gave her attention to her mobile phone.

Not fake

After some deliberation, and despite being advised by the Network Rail Journey Planner that it would be much better to change at Vauxhall or Victoria, we changed onto the District Line at Wimbledon, which worked very well. Except that we emerged into a shower at Kensington High Street. Declining the fancier opportunities in the exit arcade, we opted for refreshment in the adjacent M&S, where I was impressed by the solidity of the tables. As far as I could make out, solid oak blockboard with not an MDF in sight - which I would have thought reasonably expensive.

Interesting clientele, including one middle aged, middle class lady, probably once good looking, who was sat within earshot and talked non-stop, managing to drop all kinds of impressive sounding words on the way. She might have been something in high finance.

From there into Kensington Palace Gardens. We noted that the rather ugly security barriers outside the Israeli Embassy had become discrete green posts, presumably armoured steel and let six feet into the ground to be on the safe side. Plus a couple of heavily armed policemen. Last noticed at reference 1, getting on for ten years ago now.

Kensington Gardens turned out to be a good place for the aeroplane game, scoring a three and several twos in the course of the day.

While Kensington Palace had rather serious security too, presumably because half of it still functions as a palace, unlike Hampton Court which, apart from a bit of grace and favour, is very much a straightforward tourist attraction.

Once inside I made a special study of hinges, having been struck by that noticed at reference 2, subsequently at reference 3.

Hinge one

Hinge two

Hinge three

Hinge one was very much the same as that spotted at Hampton Court; hinge two was rather ornamental; and, hinge three look like a set of perfectly ordinary brass butt hinges, the sort of thing which holds some of our own interior doors up. Perhaps it was all down to the whim and mood of the estate carpenter on the day the work needed doing, with no particular rhyme or reason at all.

Bust one

Bust two

Bust three

Along this way we came across a rather fancy bust of a black man, but did not think to read his ticket. So I ask Google Image Search which says that bust one is an antique. Then I cut the image down to something more like bust three using Microsoft snipper and it comes up with the blog captured at bust two, to be found at reference 4. Seemingly a blog which is directed at ladies who would rather not pay for a paper ladies' magazine - but it did include bust three, which gives a better idea of the bust, if not of its context. But it does not say who it is and the best our rather elderly guide can do is that it might be an eighteenth century bust of a page. Which does not seem quite right to me, the gent. in question being too old and too grand.

Venus and Cupid

A singularly ugly picture, apparently a favourite of George II. All Google can tell me about it is that it is probably a picture of Venus and Cupid.

Weather vane

Then a first, in the form of an interior weather vane: a dial over a fireplace connected to a weather vane on the roof. It must have made a useful conversation piece before radio and television were invented, when it was too dark to read with any comfort and one had tired of playing cards.

We were reminded of a strange fashion in dresses, call mantuas. See reference 5.

Sunken garden

Handsome sunken garden on the park side of the palace. A larger version of the sunken gardens at Hampton Court. The large tea tent, installed for the duration of the Orangery refurbishment, is visible to the left.

Tea stainer

It seemed a little early for the full-on afternoon tea on offer and which most of the others were taking (complete with doggy bags, perhaps a nod in the direction of the US portion of the clientèle), so we took the lunch instead, which turned out to be fine, and quite reasonably priced. I took a little more wine for dessert, while BH took tea, which turned up another first, in the form of a little wire brush stuck in the spout of the teapot to do service as a tea strainer. And for the first time in a while, there were proper tea cups, rather than the great heavy things you usually get.

Clientèle mainly ladies, of all ages, probably more than half tourists and holiday makers.

Royal tent

As can be seen in the snap above, it was a very royal tent and I don't suppose I would care to have to pay for a wedding in one. Perfectly comfortable when we were there, just a slightly flapping roof to moan about. But it might get a bit uncomfortable in full summer if the sun was in the wrong position.

Back garden

Photography in the vicinity of the Israeli Embassy was forbidden but we sneaked a snap of the back garden, probably allowed. With the block at the back properly scoring as a fake, being fairly new but in a fake old style. Quite a lot of it about these days.

On the way to the tube, we came across a Greek baker selling all kinds of good looking stuff. We took a couple of olive buns, something we have not had since our days near the top of Green Lanes in north London. Very good they were too. As far as I can make out from Gmaps and Bing, Menoo Eclectic of Kensington Church Street, next to Patisserie Valerie - at least for the moment.

On the tube to Wimbledon, we were intrigued by a sign in the tube - a District Line tube running between Edgware Road and Wimbledon - saying that the doors might not open at Baker Street. Perhaps the train was let out to the Circle Line people if they were running short for some reason or other.

We wondered about the density of chimney pots, with some terrace houses near the river sporting lots of them, in rows of ten or more. We supposed that a proper house would have a chimney pot for every proper room. From where I associated to the last tea lady at the Treasury, who in the late 1980's could remember the days when one had to hump buckets of coal up for the fires of the eminent. With the proper tea lady name of Gladys. Perhaps when I tire of aeroplane spotting, I could go in for counting chimney pots in the various parts of London and its suburbs?

Overall verdict, a homely, mainly low ceilinged version of Hampton Court Palace. Lots of rather dingy paintings. Lots of fakery (noticed separately). The trusties were a bit enthusiastic and you were apt to get quite a lecture if you asked an innocent question.

PS: I close by noticing what we thought was a gratuitously offensive picture involving lots of lips on the front of the little tube map, otherwise useful, offered at Kensington High Street tube station. Presumably the arty types responsible thought it was clever. Probably rather younger than ourselves.

Reference 1: https://pumpkinstrokemarrow.blogspot.com/search?q=israeli+embassy+lebanese.

Reference 2: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2019/01/cold.html. The hinge being the third of ten snaps.

Reference 3: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2019/02/dining-in-oak-room.html. The hinge being the fourth and last snap.

Reference 4: https://thevintagecontessa.net/.

Reference 5: http://www.tulliehouse.co.uk/thecollection/womens-court-mantua-dress-georgian.

Reference 6: http://www.tulliehouse.co.uk/. For the museum more generally.

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