I Knit Day, and the Yarn Harlot in London

Oo Now I know why everyone went to bed early last night... We got up again at four to have a quick breakfast and a drive through the darkness to the airport. This time I got to travel first class by being warmly wrapped in a cardigan, snuggled into a hand-luggage backpack and left a half-open flap to look out through. Not that Aberdeen airport is particularly worth seeing...

The flight was uneventful, and Gatwick was funny because Hreow followed the signs for trains and ended up taking the transit-train to the North terminal, only to find out that the actual train-station (the one with the Gatwick express) was back in the South terminal which we had just left. She has the most giggle-inducing grumble. : D

After getting back on track, the correct one this time, she finally remembered the camera. Here's me with the travel-pattern.

Chosen because Hreow had the right yarn and the right, old banged-up needles (kitten toothmarks) for it, so that if anyone objected to the knitting, we could afford to lose the needles. Thougtfulness is a trait of all us Swatchies. ^^

Despite the little detour, we were the second to arrive at the gates to the Royal Horticultural Halls. As a matter of fact... we were a bit worried that we were in the wrong place as Hreow was expecting hordes of knitters, packed like sardines around the building and baying "Yarn Now!".

Just five minutes later the queue had grown a bit, there was some knitting going on and we spent the time matching patterns to what various knitters were wearing.

and then the delegations started to arrive. Some one by one or in pairs, some by the dozens. I suggest that we bring flags and march to the halls in true Olympian style next time.

When we were finally let in (the man with the keys jingled up to the gates a few times, but I think the sight of hundreds of knitters scared him off until he had found enough backup and the courage.

Here is a dark-and-fuzzy shot of the main hall.

No livestock, bar one angora rabbit, and much less fresh air than I saw on my last outing. Hreow spent some time running around and squealing over yarny and fibery goodness, didn't find the right drop-spindle though, and when she tired and finally though of me again we had a rest by the Great British Sheep.

Meet George:

He's covered in swatches, bits of knits and i-cords of pure British-bre(e)d wool. And one crowning-glory Swatchy who is no such thing, of course. :-) I don't think George minded a short-term rider.

(And doesn't he have a very fetching anklet?)

For (very late) lunch, we took a stroll through London looking for the right place. I wanted to try this place,

but Hreow said that it wasn't breakfast-time, she would find me a proper pub breakfast when we got back home and that that sort of breakfast would probably kill her.

She exagerates, but I'm willing to trade a full English for a full Scottish Breakfast.

We had this instead:

because it is her very favourite food and I'm generous.

I will only show you two shots from out touristy travels:

New Scotland Yard (and how much better would it be if that was an 'n' at the end, not a 'd'). I wanted to be in the photo, but Hreow said I wriggle too much to get any sort of focus. What she really wanted a photo of, but was uncertain if it was ok, was a police-scooter with policeman just outside. For some reason she found the police scooter incredibly funny. Must be a biker thing.

And

How to get an architecturally worth-while building, a pillar-box (post), an old-style telephone-box and a red bus or two into the same photo. Winchester cathedral is very pretty and very WOW.

For some proper shots of the sights of London, see the Yarn Harlot's blog. She has a camera that does not need to be stuck together with sticky-tape and hope, and is better at finding treasures.
Speaking of which...

When we got back, it was time to queue up for the main feature of the day, the Yarn Harlot in person!! We waited for a very long time. When it started pouring with rain for the *third* time, a brave woman marched to the head of the queue and explained to the people inside how bad it is to keep hundreds of knitters with 2mm-or-less needles waiting outside in the rain (and thus not knitting) (or at least that's what I assume she said). In any case it worked and she was applauded on her way back.

Included for evidence...

It is obviously not any wriggling on my part that causes the blurriness, but Hreow bouncing up and down! I agree that her camera has seen better days, though.

The YH was just like her blogs and better and just as thought-inducing and very funny and... well, you all read her blog so I need not explain really. During the Q&A she said she wasn't averse to coming back next year. Brilliant! Can we petition for next year to come sooner, please?

I believe her when she says she's shy as well, even though she obviously knows how to pretend not to be and can prod herself to still climb a podium and charm the masses. I wonder if all great performers are? It may be a requirement, to enable you to stay that connected with your audience. She had us in tears with laughter and nodding so much in agreement that Hreow had to put her knitting away, lest the skein of laceweight escape and cause tangled havoc.

Here's a photo of just YH, but it does NOT prove Hreow's point about wriggling...


After having wiped the tears of laughter off our faces, gathered our scattered belongings and Hreow having foisted some seaweed wool on a gracious Harlot (and feeling like a bully in the process. Poor lass had just escaped the podium) we went back to the main hall for the book-signing.

The woman is amazing... She makes everyone feel that they have received special attention while signing their books and still manages to work her way through a sizeable queue.

She has seen through your plan to take over the world by Swatchy though, Knittah... Proves she's clever as well, I guess. :-)

Hreow says: Thank you for letting me take your Swatchy Green to met the YH. It made an adventure and a goalpost all the more special. (Only... what *do* you stuff them with? They all seen to be a touch cheeky. Not in a nasty way, just really not the quiet, retiring sort. :-))
I had a wonderful day, talked to complete strangers in the queues and mobs, and felt wrapped in a warm blanket of knitter-to-knitter (crochetter, spinner, fibre-artist...) friendliness from beginning to end. What a contrasts to my usual quiet solitude. (Better Half doesn't count in this case, he's part of me and vice versa.)

I've added some IKnit buttons to the collection and after I have shown why Swatchies should not have a full any-nationallity breakfast, I will send your travelling reporter back home to tell you what really happened and to show off the swag. I saw him sneaking off with my creditcard on more than one occasion. "Ooooooo, look! Yarn!!" and then stealthing for the horison only works so many times...

It was worth having my wings back for a day and something to remember for a long time.

(Sorry about the misuse-of-whitespace. I'm knackered and they like the places they've chosen the way they are, thank-you-very-much, and refuse to budge. :-/ If you're on Ravelry, there is a readable version there. http://www.ravelry.com/discuss/knittin-with-swatchy/316917/1-25#13 )

I fiddled with the whitespace. And added a title and tags. ;) -Noricum

Sunny London Part 2

Hi Knittah!

I begged and pleaded with Eliza, so we had lunch at the Tate Modern (lovely restaurant--and got to watch the graffiti artist paint the glass--from inside the glass) before proceeding.

We caught the "Tate Boat" down the river--it runs between the Tate Modern and Tate Britain (think JMW Turner!!), stopping at the London Eye en route. So of course, we stopped off. Daunted by the long line, we sat in the park and watched people until a later boat arrived.

Here's the Eye:



And the park alongside:



The ride along the river was gorgeous. I wish we'd had time for a longer one, like up to Greenwich or something. As it was, we saw some pretty and funny sights.

Eliza liked the Lifeboat Pier: she could picture someone like John Cleese running up to it in a panic to rent (let?) a lifeboat for some crisis. It just seemed very...English and orderly...



Here's the King's Reach. (don't ask me--that's what it says)



I love all the bridges:



and more:



Lots of development along the river. Here's a quasi-Dubai-on-Thames:



The boat arrived at Tate Britain at about closing time, unfortunately, so no Turner this visit. (I know--it's like sacriledge or something.) So then we walked. And walked some more. Around Westminster. Buckingham. Green Park and St James' Park and White Hall.

So I saw the sights. And the pigeons. And the results of the pigeons:



Damn pigeons.

But then we got to Buckingham Palace...



and the lovely Queen Victoria's Memorial: (well, the Memorial, at least)



But then we got to Parliament:



And here I am with beloved Big Ben:



At this point, we were pretty much on fumes, looking for a) a Waterstone's (bookstore) and b) a restaurant. Please. And as we wandered almost deliriously, we saw this stunning bus:



Then we stumbled across this memorial:



...which I'm not really sure what to make of, as the women of WWII are all apparently disembodied uniforms...?

and tripped down the street and had a fright:



Is there no escape???

I was sort of relieved when I realized it's just (?) a restaurant.

And then we found a thai restaurant. And there was much rejoicing.

Meanwhile, back at the hotel, the main lifts weren't working properly, and we noticed this on our way up and down the stairs:



Isn't that backwards? I mean, the opposite of how it works here? One of the fascinating things about travel is all the opposites. Like, going through security at Heathrow, your laptop must be left INSIDE the case, not outside like here (they have better equipment). In Norway, the dial telephones start with 0 and work their way counterclockwise around the dial down to 1, the opposite of the US. And in the UK, apparently, some lifts only work in fires--again, the opposite of the US. I think a time-motion study is required. Or something. Maybe they're on to something and this would account for the weakness of the dollar...?

Anyway. Stay tuned.

Love, Swatchy C

Sunshine in London

Really. I know. But there was lots to be had.

On the first night we went to Kensington to Mr. Tumblyday's favorite Persian restaurant. We sat outside next to this lovely family:



The next day, Eliza and I walked for hours. Really. My feet were killing me. First we walked from the City to the Tower of London. Here's me:



And me again, a different angle:



One of the many great things about London is the juxtaposition of new with Olde (the official term) development. Look what's on either side of the Tower:





I made Eliza take this photo of the weather vane. I particularly like the fish gargoyles... ??



We continued down the Thames and crossed the Millenium Bridge, with a view back towards St. Paul's:



The Bridge crosses the Thames to the Tate Modern, which was the scene of some fairly, erm, large graffiti-in-progress:





I love that they have their priorities straight:



The artist at work:



And the resulting foot:



And it's not even lunch-time yet...Phew. Stay tuned...