London Calling (day 2)

After a bit of a short night, I woke up at 6.00 o’clock, alarm ringing in my ear. Oh I just wanted to snuggle up, pull up the blankets, hide my head under a pile of cushions and be in Lala land for another hour or 2. But the alarm was merciless and well…I was the one who said she wanted to go to the fishmarket early in the morning…so up up up. And out we went, streets deserted, sun still resting…sleepy eyed driving along and finding the doors locked. No market, not on Sunday, it took us a while to digest this, but hell, it was 6.30 o’clock on a Sunday morning. But after a while our brains caught up and we turned with a vengeance and jumped right into bed…Yippieeeeeee. A bed never felt this good. Would have loved to get some fisheggs, but sometimes a bed is just more fun…J

After this slow, bumpy start we had a really nice breakfast…bacon, poached egg and toast. Cooked for me by 2 men…I was in heaven.



And then we were of and went to the National Portrait Gallery to see a life work exhibition of the female photographer Annie Leibovitz. And I just got blown away, gripping portraiture, stunning black and whites. Somehow she just seems to capture the human soul. I often have seen portraits where it seems the people on it aren’t really there. They seem a bit detached, but with her they are painfully there. Looking at you with a staggering understanding you are watching them, but really…they are looking at you. And it just made me swallow hard. There was one self-portrait that just ripped my guts out and twisted them hard. She was lying in a bathtub naked, her hand over the breast that is just not there anymore. It was so gripping, brought back so many memories flashing before my eyes. I had to try really hard not to start crying my heart out just there and then. I looked at mister D and saw a distance that hadn’t been there all weekend and I suspected a similar powerful feeling of sorts. The overwhelming power of her pictures got to him I guess. I asked him later… I already suspected the answer.



After eating the stew that had been brewing since Saturdaynight mister D took me to his local pub and we sat before a fireplace overlooking the water and the beautifully lit Dome. I think I can acquire a taste for Cider and good conversation. We made a real mess by feeding the poor fireplace pistachio nutshells. I kind of hoped they would pop and shoot into space or something. Though I had planned to keep it light this weekend, it did get a bit emotional. But the fact that it didn’t seem to be a problem for him or me, just confirms that something special is going on. It was an unusual easygoing weekend, it just fit like a glove. Surrendering to someone is something I normally find hard to do. But somehow it just happened and it felt good, relaxed, no feminist bullshit rising it’s ugly head… just fun, light and sparkly. To be treated like a princess is something I can get used to. Where it will go…I don’t know, but I’m curious.