Saturday, 26 July 2014

A Crip Trip to London Part 1


My friend and I decided to take a trip to London for some exhibitions. We usually do this in the summer but this time we decided to stay for a few days and spread everything out. Four exhibitions over three days seemed doable but I have recently struggled with my back and already cancelled a holiday to Cornwall so it was a bit touch and go. One thing we forgot to do was book assistance. Usually we book a ticket with East Midlands but this time it was cheaper to go with the Trainline so there was no button to book assistance. We meant to ring East Midlands to see if we could book anyway, but the weeks went past quickly and we forgot all about it until it was too late.

We reached London without too much incident, bar a very late train and almost missing our connection. We had been standing around for over half an hour on the station and this tired us out. At King’s Cross we reached the taxi queue and instead of queuing in 4 lanes like they were supposed too, people were all in one line in lane 4 causing traffic chaos outside the station as cabs queued into the normal carriageway. If people queue in 4 lanes, cabs can do 4 pick-ups at once reducing disruption on the road and time queuing. We stood in lane 1 and asked if anyone wanted to come across because they could use all 4 lanes. No one said anything and just stared at us. We even said we couldn't queue for a long time because we were disabled but nothing, so we just stood at the front of lane 1 and took a cab at the same time as queue 4. Then people wanted to speak and one old man started yelling that we were taking his cab. He was elderly, very well dressed and looked a bit ‘well to do’. He shouted ‘fat bitch’ at me and my friend shouted ‘HOW RUDE!’ in a really loud voice as we took off in the cab. The cab driver was great he told us not to worry because nobody uses it properly and it just causes confusion. Knowing that we were using it in the right way and had offered people the chance to join us still didn't stop the shock at being name called. I've written a lot about fat before so it doesn't really bother me as an insult; still no one likes being called names in public!

After checking-in we went off to Tate Modern to see the Matisse exhibition. This was my friend’s treat and she was really enjoying herself, but these exhibitions are difficult. They are held in vast spaces with very few sitting areas, usually filled with people sketching or elderly people resting. We noticed a few people with fold out stools and realised they would be a great addition to our kit! The interesting thing about the exhibit was that it was on Matisse’s cut-outs, a phase of his work where he was using a wheelchair. The smaller cuttings were easy enough to do but for the larger pieces he had to employ ingenious techniques such as using the walls of his house as a canvas by sticking things up there using a long stick or brush. Eventually he had two assistants helping him and just told them where to place the pieces. It was an interesting lesson in how someone could continue their life’s work despite disability. The tendency to capture fluidity and motion in his work was a stark contrast to his own stiffness and immobility.

We followed this bit of culture with a special tea at The Sanderson, a hotel we've never been to before. I have to add that all of this travelling to and from has to be done in cabs. Both of us suffer vertigo on the underground, beside which it is so busy and we can’t stand, as well as the fact that in the summer it is far too hot down there to cope with. This adds up quickly so any saving for these trips has to take cabs into account. The tea was a Mad Hatter’s Tea, but we were a little early so first we were taken to the bar to have a cocktail. The bar was a big island in the middle of the room with tall bar stools that had a heavily made up eye on the back of them. I figured that if I could just use my good leg to push off and put my bad leg on the spells I would be okay. Yet I realised half way through the manoeuvre that I don’t actually have a good leg and the leg on the spell would be the one pushing. No amount of swapping legs would do and I had to think out the manoeuvre way more than should be necessary. All my efforts only succeeded in pushing my bum in the air and stomach on the seat! On a last precarious attempt I had to trust that the bar stool would stay in one place and I heaved myself up using my arms to lean on the bar and just hope it got my bum high enough to reach the stool. Luckily it did, just, and then I had to do a shuffle backwards. The only problem with this was that I was now a good foot away from the bar, so I had to wobble backwards and forwards moving the stool to the bar an inch at a time to prevent me falling off the edge. Dawn French could not have done it better! A quick look around soon showed me that this was a place for business men and beautiful, young women with hair down to their bottoms and no hair anywhere else. They were immaculately groomed and could actually sit down onto a bar stool rather than having to climb it in a fashion that would suggest we were being asked to climb Everest. This was not a place for slightly tired, 40 somethings who were a little bit sweaty after a three hour journey and two cab rides with a long art exhibition in between. We consoled ourselves with a very strong cocktail and a game of pick out the prostitute (the one with a man twice her age, too well turned out for the afternoon, who only drank half a glass of champagne before disappearing upstairs for 45 minutes then leaving again).

The Mad Hatter’s Tea was marvellous. We sat out in the open air under huge umbrellas with a little water garden and candles behind us. We were presented with a tray holding four ornate glass bottles that we were invited to sniff and choose our tea. The tea was served in a Red Queen tea pot with matching milk jug and sugar in a small girl’s jewelry box including tiny ballerina. The menu was pasted inside an antique book and we were served with tiny rolled sandwiches, mini savoury tarts and scones, miniature fruit scones with jam and cream, then a tiny ‘drink me’ bottle complete with straw containing a mango and passion fruit drink. The confectionery looked adorable; there was a tick-tock Victoria Sponge, a mini Chocolate teacup filled with white chocolate mousse and flowers, then a cheesecake with an amazing rainbow striped white chocolate covering, plus marshmallow toadstools and meringue carrots served with pea shoots. It was very fantastical, and the staff could not do enough to help us. We took our leftovers back to the hotel and finished tea in our pyjamas because we were so tired from the long day. It was an experience not to be missed – apart from their bar stools!

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