Rising damp

After watching the sunrise over the Mudchute (that's really what it's called) with Jude, I spent the morning reading my Gombrich before setting off to Knightsbridge. Hyde Park in the rain - deserted, grey, beautiful. Last time I was there is was hideous - tourists and bawling kids. Today, just me, a smattering of geese and a couple of OAPs sheltering under the awnings of the Lido Cafe sipping tea and puffing on roll-ups. The geese smoked Gauloise. I wanted to have a good look at the Albert Memorial, as it is a key part of my module 'Inventing the Victorians' which begins tomorrow. I stood there beneath my umbrella gazing up at this highly decorated edifice as a damp school party with soggy clipboards trudged miserably along. Unfortunately it's not possible to get close enough to look at the stone reliefs, with tours scheduled for the first Sunday of the month (doh!) I might as well wait until November.

Next stop, the Serpentine Gallery to see the current exhibition there entitled: 'Uncertain States of America'. I watched a film of an extraordinarily fat woman prodding some dough down through a hole to another woman with preternaturally long fingers who processes it into little packs. The fat woman appears to have an allergy to the gerberas she is also tending and that her tears, along with the sweat of her colleague, have become part of the factory process. Mmm. Besides the hyper-real human statue, which I was loathe to approach just in case it was real human statue (that's the joke - it isn't) there was just one other piece I liked which involved a ghostly shadowplay of images on the floor, described as "tangled telegraph wires upon which crows brood, clocks, phones and cars surging upwards as if in some apocalyptic storm. Tiny human figures occasionally appear, falling through these worldly things as if from grace or the Twin Towers."

Back into the rain and a detour on the way back to Knightsbridge Underground for a look at the Diana Memorial Fountain. I had never seen it before - it's rather wonderful. Maybe it was just because I was there alone and could enjoy it without distraction, but I found it tranquil and unexpectedly, quite moving. Why has it been so badmouthed? Because kiddywinks can't play in it I guess. It's a memorial for heavens sakes.

Birkbeck Library once more - and I'm in time for the tour. All very impressive and daunting. A quick dash over to Gordon Square and I fumble around trying to find which room I should be in for the introduction to the History of Art MA. Joy of joys it's in Clive Bell's drawing room and there's a shed-load of wine! We are given a long, sobering talking to by the Master of the course which scares the willies out of us, then a bit of awkward socialising and wine-glugging. I ask the Master about the Clive Bell connection, and he tells me his office is one-half of Virginia Woolf's bedroom. How appropriate! Back to the SU Bar - not for cheap beer but to try and get my Student Card, but they were all several sheets to the wind so I decided to come back another time. Home in time for Extras. Ronnie Corbett is a superstar.