Gardens, art and horses - Wednesday 11th October 2017

Today I awake and it is a bit overcast and dull, looks like there’s been rain overnight. Alison and I take the tube into town chatting all the way, making the most of our time together. We part ways at Queensway where I get off and she continues on to her work in Victoria (at the NHS).

Queensway is a small and deep station with lift access. Above ground I stop for a coffee and a baguette at Pret A Manger, a trusty chain of sandwich bars, and then head across the road to Kensington Gardens.

Back in the day, I often used to frequent Hyde Park, amusing myself at Speakers Corner where whackos spout forth near Marble Arch. It intrigued me endlessly and has to be one of the best people-watching spots in the world. 

Kensington Gardens, one of the city’s royal Parks, adjoins Hyde Park, and is leafy and peaceful. I stroll along its pathways, past Kensington Palace and various statues and sculptures. It’s pretty much deserted except for a few people walking dogs, and clusters of tourists here and there. The air is a little dank but it is not cold.  

I am booked in for a guided tour of the contemporary art exhibitions at the Serpentine galleries, courtesy of Side Story, organised by Destinations Magazine. Something a bit different to the usual tourist offerings. I'll be writing about it. 

There is a magnificent structure called the Pavilion; circular and beautifully blue, it is the creation of an architect, France Kere, from Burkino Faso. A temporary exhibit for the summer, it is also a semi-outdoor cafe and this is where I meet Frankie and Edy. Frankie is a young South African woman, a journalist living in London, also doing this tour, and Edy Ferguson is our very knowledgeable guide. Drizzle hangs menacingly in the air but the rain holds off. 

The Pavilion

There are two galleries of contemporary art, one houses an exhibition by American artist Wade Guyton (digital techniques), the other by a Norwegian, Torbjorn Rodlund (photography). I have heard of neither.

Edy provides a relaxed commentary and detailed insights into not only the pieces displayed but also the world of contemporary art. I am not surprised to hear of the huge power that curators and wealthy collectors wield in the contemporary art world. Some of these pieces we are looking at are worth over a million pounds/dollars and we all shake our heads and wonder why. Some artists gain godlike status on account of people with clout in the business. As I've always known, it simplyt comes down to spin and who believes the BS. 

Having said that, there are some evocative and striking works in these collections and Edy’s expertise is invaluable. We wrap up our morning with a delicious smoothie at the cafe and Edy tells us of her wish to boost the ability of women to become collectors; currently the domain of wealthy males who control the strings and have the ability to set an artist on their way to glory - or not. It was truly refreshing to be with two other art-loving women who were prepared to look a million pound artwork and go "puke"!!! The nice thing was that, from the moment we three strangers met, we knew we'd be able to do that. And then we parted ways and will never see each other again! Perhaps that very thing generates honesty like that. 

Upon leaving, I take a different route through the park, north towards Lancaster Gate; past Henry Moore’s sculpture called The Arch, and through the Italian Water Garden with its marble fountains and ornate stonework. A gift from Prince Albert to Queen Victoria, it’s a lovely pocket of tranquility in one of the world’s biggest cities. 

The Arch

After my pleasant morning of gardens and art, I take the tube to Oxford Circus and head north past the Langham hotel to Broadcasting House, the BBC headquarters. An impressive extension was built some years ago, integrating the old building into the new, and services previously housed in West London were relocated in 2012. 

Why am I here? Alison’s husband Orfan works here and he has offered to show me around. I sign in and go through a rigorous security check and then we zip to the top floor which gives a bird's eye view of it all, from the news hub below, up through the floors that house the various radio and tv networks. It is thronging with people going about their business. Most sit at screens with headphones on; it is hard to fathom out exactly what they are all doing. About 5,000+ people pass through here each day, delivering news and entertainment to the nation and the world. It’s a city within a city. (Imagine if each one gave just .05p to a beggar at the door - that's 250 pounds per day!!!! Just saying ...)

Orfan is a newsreader for the Arabic radio service. After going through the Foreign Correspondent section, we reach his department. I meet some of his colleagues and sit in the studio chair to get a feel for things. 

The Beeb

Hello world!

My son Sam works in radio at the new NZME building in Auckland. I haven't been in although have seen it from the outside. One would assume the powers-that-be took a look at the BBC Broadcasting House before embarking on the NZME design and from external viewing I’m assuming there are similarities, albeit on a much smaller scale.  

It’s been an enlightening albeit swift visit and I will in future watch BBC World with an extra layer of behind-the-scenes insight.

I head back to Kingston and meet Peter around 4pm. We are off to the evening races. Alas Jill (a psychotherapist with a full book of clients) is working and can’t join us. Peter, accountant, has slipped away from work a little early for a bit of twilight racing fun. 

We take the train a few stops to Kempton Park and walk 200 yards to the racecourse entrance. Perfect. With my Racehorse Owners hat on, I had earlier emailed The Jockey Club in the hope of learning about the owner experience here. This affords us free entry (usually £12), a racebook (£2.50), entry to the owners room, and a complimentary meal. Brilliant. 

We settle in, get a wine, do some study. Our very friendly waitress brings us carrot soup and the guy on the tote helps me decipher the betting regime here. The minimum bet is £2 which seems steep. The atmosphere in the room is jovial. Outside, in the dusk, horses parade and jockeys hop aboard. There is no view of the racecourse itself from the Owners’ room so we watch on the screen. This is an all-weather track and the shape of the races seems to change dramatically in the final 50 yards. I nip out to watch a race in person and it’s a pretty sight under the floodlights. Rain threatens and it’s a bit chilly. The Owners’ room beckons me back and our main course of tasty nachos is delivered. The service is exceptional. I’m not aware of any clubs in NZ who serve a free meal to all owners on course, with table service. It’s a good system!

Kempton Park racecourse

Our table in the Owners room

Winners elude us until, at last, my horse is up there in contention at the finish line - it is very close, there is only a nose in it. It goes my way. We order more wine!

After a fun evening (8 races) we take the train home, and recount our escapade to Jill who arrives home from her rooms in Harley Street shortly after we do. A nightcap wraps up another full and fabulous day. 

OBSERVATION IF THE DAY:

Outside the BBC I notice there is a band setting up, sound checks being done, a yellow carpet, barriers in place. I ask one of the guys running around with cords etc what is going on. He tells me Robert Plant will be playing there tonight. Apparently there are quite often pop-up bands who play in this area outside the BBC - they are not announced or advertised. Just suddenly there. I’m not quite sure of the purpose, perhaps linked to the release of a new album, a novel form of promotion, and those lucky enough to be there at the right time get a free concert. Sometimes by someone as big in the music business as Robert Plant. Presumably a lot of people don't mind working late at the Beeb in case they exit the building and stumble across their fave singer! Nice. Alas I can’t stick around ... I am off to the races.