March. Well. We’ve made it through another month – and dare I say, we’ve made it through the winter? On a personal level, March has mostly followed the example set by the last couple of weeks of February: it’s been a tough one. Things have – at last – started to look up in the final few days, but it ranks pretty low down in my list of “Steph’s Favourite Months of All Time”.
Despite that, though, there’s been loads I’ve loved. The evenings are lighter, the spring flowers are in full bloom, and there’s a general feeling of better days being ahead. I’ve also been on a bit of a quest to fill my spare time with things that bring some joy and lightness, even when the world feels like it’s on fire.
At this point I’d planned to tell you about one particular day, early in the month, where I ended up taking in four separate London galleries/museums/exhibitions – all in the space of about six hours. Everyone I’ve told about it thinks I’ve lost the plot completely (I probably have) – but it was one of the most fun, mentally energising, strangely healing days I’ve had in a very long time.
Except it ended up not just being one day. I did it three times. In under two weeks. (Am I deliberately filling my time, and using all my energy, so I don’t have any left to have to think about any of the stuff I’d rather not think about? Who can say. But it’s cheaper than therapy.)
I’ve still got blisters from all the walking, but it’s absolutely worth every one of them. Eleven visits in total; ten unique places, across what ended up being around 18 hours. I was physically exhausted, mentally tired but the whole ludicrous exercise revived parts of me I’d forgotten existed. I’ve noticed a light in my eyes that I haven’t seen for quite a while now.
My longer reviews of the London Transport Museum, the National Gallery and Somerset House’s CUTE are already online, with more coming soon. And these visits seem like a good place to kick off, so number one on my list of things I’ve loved in March is…
A Birthday Garland (The National Poetry Library, Southbank Centre, London)
This was stop number four on the first of my ridiculous but utterly delightful museum-and-gallery days. I found it by accident a few days prior, after having a quick Google of free things to do and/or see on my way back towards home.
To my shame, I didn’t even know the National Poetry Library existed (though if I’d thought hard about it, I suppose I’d have guessed there must be one somewhere). Well, it does exist, it’s in the Southbank Centre, and at the moment it’s home to A Birthday Garland, a charming exhibition exploring words and their meanings.
My verdict? It’s probably not worth going far out of your way to see, purely because it’s so small (I was there for about 15 minutes, and I stopped to read everything). But if you’re in the area, or you’re passing on your way somewhere else, it’s definitely worth a detour.
I really enjoyed it: the works themselves are gorgeous, and captured the essence of the words beautifully. The insight into the process, thanks to the showcase of tools and materials the artist (Mary Kuper) used to produce the pieces, was a lovely addition. And, for the creative folk, there’s a station where you could create your own “word picture” to take away with you.
The Poetry Library itself is a wonderfully peaceful space, and feels like stepping into a parallel world compared to the bustle of the South Bank. There’s something about the atmosphere that screams (well, whispers) “stop a while and take sanctuary” – and I’m a little disappointed that I didn’t take the chance to do just that. Naturally, I’ve added it to my list of “places I need to properly check out another day” – I want to take a longer look when I’m not totally exhausted.
Plus, you’ll get to have a go in the Southbank Centre’s singing lift. Which is fun – even if it did initially make me jump out of my skin (I was not expecting it to sing, and I was very tired) – so it deserves a mention, too.
(Check out. Check. Out. Do you see what I did there? It’s a library.)
The exhibition is free to enter, and runs until 12 May, so you’ve still got a few weeks to catch it.
Discovering the Forgotten Underground (Hidden London virtual tour)
Doing one of the “proper” Hidden London tours has been on my wishlist for a long time. I haven’t yet managed to actually do one, because time, and money, and the pandemic, and some health things. Until I’m solvent enough to be able to do one (by which I inevitably mean all of them – this is me we’re talking about), this Discovering the Forgotten Underground tour seemed like the next best thing. Not least because it meant I could join in my pyjamas.*
Having recently spent an afternoon at the London Transport Museum, I already had a rough idea of the history, but it was brilliant to have that fleshed out with video, pictures I hadn’t seen (I even got to see some tile close-ups!), and of course the guide’s knowledge. It also filled in some of the gaps I mentioned from my visit and answered some of my questions, which was a lovely bonus.
It was also a pretty good trailer for the in-person tours; having seen tiny bits of what’s covered I now want to do one even more than I did before. Which is annoying for my bank balance, but a good thing for their marketing team.
With my Miss Picky hat on, the tour was let down ever so slightly by it breaking the cardinal rule of webinars: don’t let someone facilitate alone. The guide was excellent, but asking someone to do both the presenting and try and figure out the tech problems at the same time wasn’t fair on them. Seriously, don’t do that. Apparently it isn’t the norm, but still: don’t do that.
My verdict? It was great, and well worth the twenty quid I spent. I’ve no idea if they have any future dates planned (at the time of writing there aren’t any on their website), but if you’re even remotely interested in this kind of thing, I’d highly recommend it.
*strictly speaking, I probably could do an in-person tour in my pyjamas. I don’t think they’ve got a rule specifically stopping me. But, y’know, social norms and all that. And it’s been chilly out.
London Mithraeum (Bloomberg Building, 12 Walbrook, London)
Another thing I didn’t know existed until recently, the London Mithraeum is really, really cool. The only thing stopping me from giving it an entire post of its own is the fact it’s so small. Located in the Bloomberg Building, just across the way from Cannon Street station in the City, are the ruins of an ancient Roman temple to Mithras. Originally discovered in 1954, and hailed as one of Britain’s most significant archaeological finds, it’s now a small museum space dedicated to showcasing the ruins of the temple, and some of the artefacts that were uncovered nearby.
The staff inside are lovely: both super friendly and really knowledgeable and enthusiastic about the site and what there is to see. The ground-floor level is predominantly given over to contemporary art installations (currently DREAM-BRIDGE-OMNIGLYPH by Leo Robinson), as well as a huge display case showing off some of the items found during the 1954 excavation. There’s an incredible array of objects, from writing tablets to coins, pots to trinkets. The most incredible thing (for me at least) was the wooden and leather objects, perfectly preserved thanks to the dampness of the soil. I was also rather taken by a tiny little amber charm of a centurion’s helmet; it was unbelievably detailed for something so miniature.
From there, you head downstairs to an audio-visual display space, as Certified National Treasure Joanna Lumley tells the story of the cult of Mithras, drawing input from a number of historians. It was fascinating, and the low lighting and atmospheric sound were very evocative – perfectly setting the tone for what comes next.
The “temple experience” runs once every 20 minutes, as the guides take you down a level deeper underground and lead you into the dark space where the temple ruins lie. I won’t spoil the experience (because I think you should go and see it for yourself), but it’s surprisingly atmospheric and really gives a good feeling of what the temple would have been like when it was in use. You’re then given time to wander round and explore the ruins more closely from the viewing platform, with the staff around to answer any questions.
Access is good; there are lifts that take you down to each level, ample seating, and accessible toilets. There are also printed transcripts of the audio tracks that play in the various areas.
My verdict? As I’ve already said, it was really cool. I love Roman stuff in general, and to find it in the heart of the City of London feels quite special. It ranks pretty highly on my list of exciting, free things to do in London – especially because you can cover the whole thing in under an hour, so it’s perfect for a lunch break!
The London Mithraeum is free to visit, and is open Tuesday-Sunday
Songs on repeat
This month’s soundtrack (once I stopped running away from literally any feeling and/or emotion long enough to let myself listen to music again 🙃) has been a mix of new-to-me stuff I’ve discovered (Step on up, CHVRCHES and Hozier), and old stuff I’ve unearthed from the depths of my Spotify playlist graveyard (Nice to have you with us, Seether and Jamie Cullum. Yes, my taste in music is…varied).
But I’ve had one song on repeat more than anything else. Absolutely nobody will be surprised to learn that it’s a Taylor Swift track: You’re On Your Own, Kid. It’s a banger, yes. But the main reason I’ve leaned into YOYOK (as I’m reliably informed The Kids are calling it) as I have lately is the bridge, and in particular these lyrics:
“Everything you lose is a step you take…take the moment and taste it…you’ve got no reason to be afraid. You’re on your own, kid…you can face this. You’re on your own, kid, you always have been.“
There’s a hopefulness about those words that I’ve really needed. A little reminder that there are things I can do something about – and that I should. And that’s exactly what I’ve been doing by taking the time to do stuff I love, even when doing nice things just for me is the last thing I think I want, or need, or deserve. Plus, having that playing in my headphones as I walk over Waterloo Bridge does make me feel a bit like the main character, and I think we all need a bit of main character energy every now and then, however unfamiliar it feels.
All in all, it’s been quite a month. I’m hoping for a quieter April, though I don’t think I’m really expecting it.
Happy Easter, if you celebrate. And I’ll see you next month.
Stephanie Franklin 