London trip 3

From the Temple Church we walked to St Pauls, gleaming white at the end of the street. Once there we were denied access as a service was to begin in an hour, so we set off for the Millenium Bridge, which doesn’t wobble any longer, and disappeared into the Tate Modern.

Modern art does nothing for me. One artist seems to have taken a six inch wall-paint brush, dipped it in scarlet paint and run loops and whorls across a giant white canvas. That’s art? Forgive me, but I don’t get it.

A meal, followed by a glass of wine in a pub, and then off to the Fortune Theatre on Drury Lane to see The Woman in Black, from a novella by Susan Hill. It’s a long time since I attended a London theatre, and I’d chosen seats in the balcony. Good thing I don’t suffer from vertigo! Two actors took all six or seven parts, and the wickerwork linen hamper became alternately a bed, a chair, and a (moving) pony and trap. As with modern day films, surprises in the plot were accompanied by exceedingly loud noises that had me flinching. Excellent acting, and an intriguing story with a ghostly touch; indeed, the ending is terrifying.