The Albert Hall is plush inside, red and gold like
Christmas. Critics complained at the time that the exterior made it look like a
hatbox, but now that so few people wear hats the nearest metaphor I can think
of is red velvet cake.
I’ve also had a mini grand tour to Paris, Milan and Venice
(pics below) taking in Notre Dame, Musee D’Orsay and other cultural monsters.
Better than that though were the random snippets – the most lackadaisical lion I’ve
ever seen lounging in red brick over a doorway near the Seine, the view of
Sacre Coeur through the clock face at the Musee D’Orsay, scattering crumbs of
pizza to sparrows at a cafe by the Accademia bridge.
Details.
Notre Dame, Paris
Balcony, Venice
And I walked miles, Gare du Lyon to the Seine, to Notre Dame, to the Louvre, through the Tuilleries, along to the Petit Palais. Paris is a city of vistas, tempting you on to the next thing, forever trying to catch up with the horizon. Venice on the other hand is a place to get comfortably lost, narrow streets and small bridges connecting piazzas, each or almost each with it's own cafe and church and children playing football in the evenings.
I was less impressed with Milan, but I suspect I didn't really give Milan a chance. I was only there a day, and it seems unreasonable to squeeze Milan's Cathedral between Notre Dame and St Mark's and expect it to look at it's best. I shall have to go back.
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