The Morning Stain
I can’t remember the last time I had a nosebleed, but that is how the day began. Maggi had just brought me a cup of coffee, and as I scrolled through my phone, I felt that tell-tale warmth. Blood began dripping onto my tissue as I blew my nose—a few stray drops hit my pyjamas, followed by a heavy “blob” right onto the bedsheet.
The morning quickly devolved into a domestic rescue mission. I had to strip the bed, apply stain remover to the mattress where it had seeped through, and scrub vigorously. Fortunately, the stain surrendered, and I felt a small wave of relief amidst the mess.
Frustration at Pinn Medical
My mood soured at Pinn Medical Centre. I was there to follow up on the “amazingly” itchy blotches covering my torso and limbs—an itch so unbearable it had driven me to A&E at Northwick Park the previous Saturday, only for them to refer me back to my GP.
After a frustrating hour-long wait, I finally saw Dr. Raza. It was a disheartening encounter; he barely glanced at the marks before cursorily confirming the previous diagnosis of a fungal infection. He told me to simply keep using the same cream. His lack of interest and the long wait left me doubting his competence. I left the surgery much later than planned, rushing home to gather my things to meet Ray.
The V&A Storehouse East
Ray and I met at Harrow-on-the-Hill at 11:00 am. We braved the Metropolitan line, the screeching Jubilee line to Stratford, and finally the Overground to Hackney Wick. Despite the grey, threatening sky, we reached the V&A Storehouse East just before the heavens opened.
After stowing our gear, we grabbed sandwiches and coffee. We felt like the “odd ones out”—the rest of the crowd appeared distinctly trendy and well-heeled. Once refueled, we took the lift to the third floor. The view was striking: row after row of metal storage cabinets that looked more like a cold, uninviting morgue than a museum. Inside those “coffins,” however, lay design treasures from across the globe.
We wandered through the cages, often puzzled by the objects. The labels frequently explained the V&A’s administrative process rather than the items themselves, which was a bit of a let-down. However, a few pieces were breathtaking:
- The Stage Set: A massive canvas, the size of a three-story house, painted in a single day.
- The Wright Office: The only complete Frank Lloyd Wright interior outside the USA—a cypress plywood office designed for Edgar J. Kaufmann. It felt like a “saved” piece of history.
- The Torrijos Ceiling: We reclined on a lounger to admire an ornate 1490s Spanish ceiling. The Arabic strapwork repeated the phrase “You drink from happiness,” a beautiful reminder of the room’s original life as a place of entertainment.
We ended at the David Bowie section, watching videos on a massive screen. It’s incredible to think his entire archive now lives here. All in all, it was a fascinating two-hour wander.
More views from the Storehouse
The Scenic Route Home
To avoid the Jubilee line, we opted for the Overground from Hackney Wick to Frognal & Finchley. We were packed like sardines on the Mildmay line until Caledonian Road, where the train ground to a halt. The driver eventually announced that “traffic ahead” was insurmountable and suggested we find another way. We bailed, caught a lucky bus down to King’s Cross, and hopped on an Uxbridge-bound Met line train back to Finchley Road. I left Ray there and waited for Maggi.
Dinner and Disappointment
We decided to skip our usual spot, Tarot, and tried Ya Ya Restaurant instead. It was a great call; we started with cocktails and, thanks to a very capable waitress, enjoyed a superb Japanese meal.
The evening ended at the Hampstead Theatre for Tom Stoppard’s Indian Ink. I’ll admit to being a “theatrical Luddite”—Felicity Kendal was the only name I recognized. Unfortunately, like other Stoppard plays I’ve endured, I found it tedious. I couldn’t find an emotional connection to the characters or the point of the production.
Reading the reviews later, I noticed the critics were somewhat gentle—likely due to Stoppard’s recent passing and the poignancy of Kendal (his former partner) starring in it. They didn’t slam it, but they didn’t rave, either. For me, it was a quiet end to a very long, eclectic day.
