Streets of London : Easter treasure hunt

This being Easter weekend we decided to visit the Horniman Museum and Gardens in Forest Hill, with the crowds. This, again, was a bus trip with three changes, one of them passing through the suburb of Brixton where a market was in full swing, and colourful characters were about looking at other colourful characters. When we arrived we skipped the Easter Egg Hunt in the garden, though hundreds of children didn't and we went exploring the museum.

The entire museum with its surrounding gardens was developed late in the 19th century by Frederick Horniman, who inherited one of the largest tea trading businesses in the world. His fortune allowed him to indulge his passions. He bought 16 acres high on Forest Hill and set about filling it with his collections.

I am convinced you can advertise anything on any day in England and you are guaranteed a crowd: the population is just so huge, and no matter how tiny the advertisement, they will come. On a fine day like today a huge crowd just turns up. Especially with a Farmer's Market included, where you can buy a picnic lunch and sit on the green grass overlooking a magical view of the city.

The gardens are thoughtful, quite specialised, and, as as well labelled as the museum information. It tells us that the soil here is clay, as throughout much of London. And that Britain was once attached to the continent, and that the Thames was once a tributary of the Rhine. Then, as the earth warmed, the channel between the two grew deeper and filled in, over time even carving out a different groove for the Thames bed. As the earth cooled it lay down blown earth called 'brick earth' from which many of London's buildings have come.

One garden is a collection of rare cycads and palms: here we found an Australia's wollemi, of all things, very specialised considering how rare this pine is. It was only discovered in 1994, and is so archaic it is called a 'living fossil' as it dates back to the age of the dinosaurs. Another is a Dye Garden, where beds are planted in different colours: red flowers producing red dyes, and yellow producing yellow dyes, explaining little quirks of dye history: how yellow mixes with blue to make green, but that over time the yellow fades with its exposure to light, so that grasses in Medieval tapestries that originally were green end up, more often than not, fading to blue.

We saw some of the work of these dyes later in the very selective products for sale in the Arts and Craft Market. The products from these markets were all that was sold in the Gift Shop that we came to later in the day: quite a thoughtful touch. The Arts and Crafts Festival was held in a very beautiful conservatory, used also for weddings, meals, as well as markets. It looks as though it would be in constant demand not only for its beauty, but for its surroundings and its views.

An environmental 'sod garden' has been installed as the roof to a new environmental plant research building so work is ongoing throughout the estate: lovely to see. Activities and prizes for children went on throughout the day: with extensive Easter Egg hunts, lists of plant treasures for clever kids to hunt down in the gardens, and exotic animals to find. Here a dinosaur. There an alpaca. Kids were having a ball, and their parents along with them.

The museum, being Frederick's passion, was extensive, and brilliantly labelled. His collection is varied, but taxidermy appears to be one of his special interests. A giant Canadian Walrus was one of the draw cards in the exhibition halls. But there are great collections under glass in all sections creating interest, including a preserved bat showing how its skeleton is attached to its skin, an Aussie koala, and a pair of stunning scarlet ibis. In one cabinet there was a 'Merman': many Victorians when they first saw things like this thought they were real, not realising that in this instance it was a monkey head stitched to a fish tail. The children were enthralled by it. And, again, the weather all day Saturday stayed fine, so we have been having the best of luck with that, too.

*****

Our intention is usually to take a rest each Sunday, and we try, but our days always seem to get larger as the day evolves. This now Easter Sunday we found a small tavern to have our Sunday roast. As it was a holiday we had to book and before long, it, too, was packed: and there were more Easter Egg hunts laid out in the garden. The traditional Sunday roast is something we miss when we are not in England so we try to make up for that when we are here. Our lovely lunch pub was in the back lanes of Fulham and we had drinks in the garden first, then dinner in the dining room.

Someone suggested a little after-lunch walk so we headed towards the Thames embankment past some massive new residential and restaurant developments where old warehouses and factories were once sited. Parked outside one of the restaurants was a shiny gold Ferrari owned by the world kick-boxing champion, Riyadh Al-Azzawi we were told, who hangs out a lot in this area. We have seen his car roaming our streets before today, but were able to get a closer shot today. Worth a cool £200,000. Kick boxing must be a lucrative business.

Stylish apartments line the embankment on both sides and most have a river view, many overlooking spacious gardens as well, so it is all very appealing. Some new ones have skin problems, though. One block is barely finished, yet already the portico has been bumped and wrecked. The rolled metal may look trendy, but it doesn't appear terribly durable. Some sport interesting plants in pots. Some decorate with appealing sculptures.

We spent ages talking to two sales folk in one of the display units-cum-sales offices which was actually open on Easter Sunday. They showed us future apartment models, a typical kitchen and living room layout, and the various prices for the various options in the buildings: all dependent, of course, on the size. The penthouses in the new plans were two-storied. All cost a fortune.

*****

Easter Monday was a trip to the British Library: a square blockish, brick building looking into its courtyard with an extraordinarily ugly statue of Newton in it. Naked. Bending over a compass measuring the universe in his search for truth. A nice sentiment, but why naked? Why in the stance, size and shape of a gorilla. I doubt that Newton would be best pleased with this one. After coming from St Pancras Station with its elaborate red brick Gothic facade the library is suitably spare. I guess that given that its focus is on its internal collection that is quite appropriate. And it has dedicated some 180 miles of shelving to store its treasures, so that would have taken a huge portion of the building funds, I imagine: along with the 12 million collection items it stores.

Including King George 111's library. A massive collection, part of which is behind glass here, available to readers for research and enjoyment. In front of his library is the actual printing press that created the Penny Black, the world's first sticky backed postage stamp, so keenly collected today, which now is worth about £4,000 a piece.

We visited the Treasure's room and saw beautiful old early maps of the world, one of Amsterdam in hand painted detail showing how busy it was in the 16th century. Another, an anthropomorphic one, created by a young woman with a talent for art. Deftly intent on attempting to amuse and educate her very sick brother she used a bullfighter and bull to create the outlines of a map of Spain and Portugal. Very clever.

Sacred texts and religious works have always appeared beautiful to me. I love how the monks, particularly, used to illustrate text in gorgeous colour touched with gold. There were some beautiful works of Chinese illustration. And miniature prayerbooks exquisitely done. They would be a pleasure to handle. The Magna Carta, too, was on display in its own room. And other fine old fragments of important works, including one purporting to be a remnant of the Gospel of St John. So delicate, like aged skin.

There were early manuscripts, including a copy of the Illiad; handwritten letters to and from folk of note, including Jane Austen; musical annotations from Mozart and the Beatles showing how some are meticulously tidy in their hand written work while others scrawl in their speed to get their inspiration down on paper. There were notes and scribblings of ideas and memory jotters, including reams from Leonardo da Vinci's own hand. Treasures, all. As the afternoon drew to a close we found a chained book in the foyer which caught our fancy and gave our feet a short rest, before heading home, our Easter over for this year.