Defining moments

A memorable weekend in London

There are times in life when, out of the blue, one finds oneself able to avail opportunities that bring you back to things that somehow escape from grasp during the hustle bustle and routine of life. And it’s amazing how you take to those moments seamlessly and then can sit back and reminiscence of the past but also engross yourself in the current scenario almost as if you never went away.

Two weeks ago, I had to rush to London for urgent meetings ahead of a scheduled quick break. While there, I met up with a friend who’d also been travelling the world and we hadn’t caught up in a while. Over lunch, we decided to meet the following weekend and do the museums, catch a couple of super exhibitions that were on. I spent Easter with friends and dogs in Germany and took a well-deserved week off. But the best was still to come.

I planned to fly to London on Thursday, work Friday, visit the museums Saturday and leave for Karachi Sunday when on Tuesday a colleague called asking if I’d like to go to Wembley on Sunday to watch the FA Cup football semi between Chelsea and Tottenham. I was totally thrilled, made the request to Marcus, the super genius, at the London office to find me a seat Monday, which was promptly done. The flight from Stuttgart to London was full of anticipation and I guess I had a big smile on my face. The tell tale signs, a pain in the jaw and a stewardess asking me the reason for this infectious smile.

That weekend in London was simply fantastic. I did stuff I had almost forgotten existed. It was the London I knew, the London of old and I am overjoyed I took the opportunity. Friday night was a fabulous dinner at a new restaurant with my nephew. The food exquisite, the place packed, ambiance charged with energy and atmosphere. And if that were not enough, lo and behold, we bumped into delightful friends we hadn’t seen for a while. It was a great evening that ended in the early hours. Some hours later, I was jumping from my cab on the Embankment at the doors of Tate Britain.

Time vanished. The Picasso exhibition was simply breathtaking. Amongst the well-known masterpieces, there were other paintings that were simply exquisite. The versatility of the master is incredible. Some pieces you saw at a distance and didn’t believe they could be his work. Once you drew closer, you saw the unmistakable signature. There were works by other artists influenced by his work that were equally fascinating. These are moments when you get Goosebumps and cannot believe a world exists when access to such brilliance requires only a little bit of your time and, in relative terms, a small amount of money. I am still living in that moment, adjectives just too elaborate to place on paper. Each painting evokes its own admiration; especially powerful was a simple sketch of a woman in poverty eating from scraps of food.

Lunch at Covent Garden’s famous L’Atelier Joel, Robuchon’s famous culinary excellence, needless to say my friend Adiba had planned the day to perfection, where the food was to die for and the grape to match. Then on to Tate Modern; I’d never been before. What can I say! The museum itself is a stunning piece of construction. A purpose-built, modern steel structure lending itself to artists’ installations of all types and sizes. 7 floors of exquisite creations. The facilities are outstanding. The views from the balcony of the members club over the Thames and over to St. Paul’s simply amazing. Damian Hirst was exhibiting; again incredibly versatile. His immersion in the cycle of life is so totally revealing; it brings you repeatedly to the wondrous element of evolution. From egg to living creature to death in just a few hours. Flies, butterflies, reproductive organs, digestion, medicines. Installations that were par excellence, totally inspiring.

Followed by a visit to Borough Market. It has changed so! Simply exciting. The Whiskey Exchange a must do for connoisseurs. And then a fabulous Saturday evening ending again in the early hours walking through Soho. Memories ring loud!

Sunday, a fabulous lunch at Heston Blumenthal’s finest. His food is simple, not theatrical and yet superbly delicious. The company stupendous. The Mandarin’s views over the Park another exquisite example of London. Then the surface train to Wembley Arena; 10 minutes direct from Marylebone. I hadn’t been to the new Wembley. The old was kind of ‘grotty’. The new is kind of awesome!

I hadn’t been to a football game in almost a lifetime. The atmosphere was electric. My mind raced to my first time ever, White Hart Lane in 1961, I was back being 10 again. Enthralled. The game was football at its competitive best. Fantastic! It was a goal fest. Chelsea scoring five brilliant goals against the one from Spurs. And what was more remarkable, with 85,175 recorded audience, was the return journey. Forty-five minutes waiting in queue and a ten-minute ride. The logistics are simply terrific.

It’s like Rip van Winkle, rising from slumber. I am awake again. London weekends will figure in my life, as of course will the dogs that have dominated past decades, big time. Thank you Adiba, Damian, Jack, Aziz, Monica, Maggy. Defining moments dragging me back into reality! I’m already thinking London, the Rosso waiting!

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