Yesterday turned out to be sunny and warm, so I set out in late morning with my camera. I had a vague idea I might go to the historic Kensal Green Cemetery, where I haven't been in several years, and I headed in that direction, westward through Brondesbury Park, Queen's Park and Kensal Rise. Of course I came across some interesting shops and other street scenes.
As it turned out, though, the cemetery is closed to casual visitors because of coronavirus. According to a sign on the gates I could have gone in to "visit a grave," although how they would know I was visiting a specific grave as opposed to just meandering about I'm not sure. I considered visiting Harold Pinter, or at least saying I was doing that if asked, but I decided to skip it altogether. When I'm walking Olga I spend enough of my time in cemeteries!
Olga didn't go with me, by the way. She was out with her dog-walker on the Heath. This would have been too far for her, even in her younger years! I walked all the way to Scrubs Lane before turning around.
I had lunch in Queen's Park after buying some small avocado-and-egg and salmon sandwiches at a nearby shop. That park, although beautiful, is a pain in the neck. It's fenced and I always find myself wandering the perimeter trying to find an access point. I don't really understand why a fence is necessary if it's a public park. Fortune Green, Hampstead Heath, Gladstone Park -- none of them have fences.
Anyway, I sat beneath a tree and had my lunch, and then wandered homeward, where I finished "The Italian Boy," the book about the body-snatchers in 1830s England. It was a good read -- a fascinating glimpse into a sordid time.
I've been offering to cut Dave's hair -- with all the barber shops closed, he's looking pretty shaggy these days. I told him he looks like a member of the Moody Blues. But for some strange reason he's reluctant to let me at it. Maybe he worries he'll wind up looking like me! (Once again I'm happy that I shave my own head. Coronavirus hasn't changed my look one bit.) A lot of Londoners have very '70s locks at the moment -- one of the upstairs neighbor kids has a head of hair like a young Robby Benson. Will the virus prompt new long-standing fashion trends, or will people streak to the barber the minute the doors open?