We arrived in That London at twelve, but couldn't check in until two o'clock. Why do hotels have this sort of timing in place? You have to check out by noon so are they saying it takes two hours to change the bedding, replenish the tea and coffee stuff, vacuum up, clean the bathrooms, and whatever else they do? I suppose it would take a long time if they did every room at once, but if the whole place isn't being used then they can stagger the cleaning can't they? When we were showed to our room there was a huge pile of cleaning products and laundry bags in the corridor so they obviously take a while over it. To kill a bit of time, we had a cup of tea in a nearby cafe and had a little walk about, and made it to the hotel at roughly the right time. The woman on reception immediately earned herself the nickname 'Manuella' due to a combination of her Spanish accent and her total lack of understanding of a single thing we said. She wanted to verify my credit card, despite having already done so as we booked online, to add to her confusion we informed her that we were paying in cash. Paying in cash is perhaps the biggest head-fuck you can give to a hotel receptionist, as there are an increasing amount of hotels that even have the facility to handle it. With her head spinning already, and the two of us being hot and bothered, my patience was wearing thin by the time she asked for the money. We pointed out that you pay for a service after the event, and eventually settled things down. For 150 pounds for the night, I at least want someone who can check you in without fuss on a hot sweaty day.
After a shower each and a change of clothes, we headed into town. The exhibition wasn't until quarter to six so we decided to eat first. There was a nice looking Indian restaurant that we decided to use, which felt rather subversive for a Sunday. Although the meal was lovely, I was annoyed that a couple in their were allowing their son to ride a scooter up and down the place with the minimum of reprimand. At one stage, the child nearly fell off, but the dad caught him and told him off, making him cry. If it was up to me, I would have let him fall and hurt himself and learn a valuable lesson. We had poppadoms to start, a main course each, and two bottles of Cobra (the waiter automatically assumed I wanted Cobra when I asked, the racist) and it only came to twenty five pounds, which is what you pay for a can of Coke from some vendors in That London. The cheeky racist bastard waiter picked up the plate with out our three tenners on, and then told us that service charge wasn't included, and how much change should he bring back? He was essentially asking how much we should tip. I have always gone by the principal that the tip is earned, and you decide how much you think the service was worth. Had he brought back the fiver and fucked off, we might have left it behind, but he wasn't even that good a waiter so we told him to take two pounds.
Our first visit to the David Bowie exhibition was for the press launch, and there was a rushed feeling to the day. The various members of the press were very pushy and impatient, (I know I'm one of them but I am nicer), and all came within an inch of a poke in the eye. Yesterday we were able to take our time and appreciate the exhibits properly. We separated in order to go at our own speed, as I find it annoying when we're looking around shops and I'm going faster only to have to go back on myself to look at something I've already seen because Mandi has called my attention to it. I took the time to watch all the video screens and listen to the interviews, although the headphones weren't working properly and were out of synch with what you were watching and where you were standing.
The V&A has never opened its doors on a Sunday before, and has had to do so to cope with the demand for the Bowie exhibition. However, the rest of the museum wasn't open so we were ushered in through a side door and led down very quiet corridors to the rooms. Also, with having been here already and given that the exhibition was drawing to a close, it felt a little bit like going to a Christmas event after Christmas. It was good to see that since the last time we were there, David Bowie has branched out into the juice bar business.
I observed how David Bowie pulled off a great trick with the secrecy of the latest album The Next Day. When Axl Rose kept threatening us with the new Guns and Roses album, he tried to do the mystery man routine himself, which just led to a bored public and a feeling of apathy when The Chinese Democracy finally limped its way into record shops. As I said to Mandi, for all we know it might have taken the entire ten years that Bowie has been in his so-called retirement for him to make this album, but the fact that nobody knew about it meant that it came as a wonderful surprise when it appeared. If he'd done Axl's trick pushing the scheduled release further and further back, then for all we know his album might have had the same lukewarm response.
Once again we went to Heddon Street later in the evening, to have a few drinks. It was nice to see so many people of all ages taking photographs of the commemorative plaque. It is a pity that more isn't made of this historic location with regard the Bowie connection. Heddon Street was, (as you can see from the album cover) a grotty little back street. If it wasn't for the musical link then it probably still would be, but now it is a beautiful cluster of bars and restaurants in which you can sit outside and savour rock and roll history. It was good of Westminster Council to allow an original red phone box back in the right place, I can't imagine Nottingham doing that, they'd have turned the whole area into fucking student flats ages ago. If I had the money to do it, I would open a bar in the K-West location and call it Ziggy's, a Planet Hollywood/Hard Rock Cafe type of a place for Bowie fans from all over the world to meet up. I had wanted to try and pose for a photo recreating Bowie's pose on the front cover, but as you can see, it wasn't 100% possible.
The plaque can just be seen in the photo directly above, which is where the K-West sign was. Due to there being so much plant life in the bar courtyard you can't get the angle right to do an updated picture. Incidentally, the bar you can see on the left hand side of the picture is where my bar Ziggy's would be.
Someone should organise a Bowie themed busking event down there one afternoon (reaches for pad and pen).
===
My daily blog can be delivered straight to your Kindle for 99p a month (link)
