The King yet lives!

This year marks the 50th anniversary of the formation of King Crimson, and also of the release of their debut album.  

I was a little late to the party in that I first heard that debut album some time in the autumn of 1970.  My last Physics teacher at school, Andy F, was newly-arrived, young and trendy, and seemingly determined to shake things up at our somewhat reserved and traditional (not to say 'stuffy') grammar school.  One of his innovations was the inception of termly Friday evening 'school discos' in the capacious entrance hall of the elegant old house that formed part of our school - seen here in a photo that pre-dates my attendance by a few (but probably only a few)  years:

By the time we organised the discos, the upright piano had been replaced by a grand, but otherwise the hall was largely unchanged - including the African spears, shields, drums and colonial-era firearms on the wall.  In the manner of the day, only staff and sixth formers were allowed to use the main staircase - I imagine that it was thought that these groups would be sufficiently mature to not be tempted to pull the artifacts off the wall in an attempt to recreate the final scenes of 'Zulu'...

Andy asked for volunteers to rig the sound and lighting equipment and, when we conducted a trial run, he produced from his bag a choice of three albums to 'test the decks': "The Worst of Jefferson Airplane", "Pearl" by Janis Joplin and "In the Court of the Crimson King" by King Crimson.  I selected the last of the three to play at volume and thereafter, musically, my life changed forever - though this was not necessarily a positive thing in the view of the Headmaster, who raced out of his adjacent office and demanded to know what was going on...

To celebrate their anniversary, the most recent version of the band is playing a 50-date world tour; three of those dates are in the UK - and we had tickets for the last show.

An uneventful trip down on the 15.13, a quick Tube ride on the Victoria Line to Green Park and then a short walk to begin the nostalgia-fest at...   ...The Hard Rock Cafe.  I used to go here a lot in the 1970s, and then later with Amanda, but we hadn't been for around 20 years.

Amanda seemed to be delighted to be back:

while your correspondent was similarly happy (despite his 'bouncer at an East End pub' stance):

I'm pleased to report that the waitresses' uniforms are still short, white and (seemingly by order) always at least one size too small...

Indeed, with the exception of a few table layouts not much seems to have changed:

Sadly, my 'Original' burger was merely "OK", and wouldn't trouble my Top Ten; Amanda also deemed her Chicken Fajitas to be "lacking sizzle" (they used to come on a dangerously hot platter) and disappointingly "not hot" - and (for the first time since I have known her) sent them back. 

I'm pleased to report that the second batch was more up to scratch - a recent TripAdvisor review mentioned the same problem, so 'caveat emptor':

The sweets (apple pie and cheesecake) were dauntingly large and very good, after which we rolled out and started a slow stroll through Hyde Park, along the banks of the Serpentine:

until we reached the impressive Albert Memorial:

and our destination:

The view from our seats (front row, Loggia 25):

The number of elderly, bearded, be-spectacled wrinklies accompanied by long-suffering wives is as high here as at a significant number of jazz gigs:

It can't be denied: as a venue, The Royal Albert Hall sucks.  The sight-lines are not bad, but the cavernous space makes it hard to feel engaged with what's happening on stage.  On the other hand, the programme made clear that KC were, on this tour, committed to playing at venues of the type that they would not normally, and since the (only) three UK dates were at the RAH, beggars could not be choosers...

Always happy to (not) oblige:

Guitarist, founder and leader Robert Fripp has an extreme aversion to being photographed or videoed while playing, and goes to extraordinary lengths to prevent it.  Once the music started the vast majority of the audience went along with the request, but a small number of telephonic videographers incurred the ire of those charged with keeping watch for breaches of the rules; I couldn't help thinking that the disruption caused by the pointing, arm-waving and accusatory discussions was greater than that occasioned by the actual filming, but "Robert's gig, Robert's rules".

With no support, the concert began promptly at 19.30.

Setlist

Set 1:
1. Hell Hounds of Krim
2. Discipline
3. Indiscipline
4. Frame by Frame
5. Moonchild (with solo cadenzas)
6. The Court of the Crimson King (including Coda)
7. Drumzilla
8. Cirkus
9. Lizard ('Bolero' only)
10. Peace: An End (tour debut)
11. Pictures of a City

Set 2:
1. CatalytiKc No. 9
2. The Letters
3. Neurotica
4. Epitaph
5. Peace: A Beginning
6. Radical Action II
7. Level Five
8. Islands
9. Easy Money
10. Starless

Encore:
21st Century Schizoid Man (including Gavin Harrison drum solo)

As expected, the musicianship was astounding.  These are complex tunes, with ridiculously difficult time changes, but this band can 'turn on a dime', as the saying goes.  All too soon we were into the final three numbers of the main set, and since these were three of my favourites I was a happy bunny.  I've been listening to Starless for around 45 years, and Fripp's vibrato-laden guitar line on the main theme still sends shivers down my back.

After a quick exit from the stage the band returned for the crowd-pleasing encore; kudos to Mel Collins for managing to include 2-3 bars of Duke Ellington's "Take the A Train" in his saxophone solo; perhaps even more kudos to Gavin Harrison for including a bar of "Colonel Bogey" in the middle of his drum solo...

An then it was all over.  The band pulled out their own cameras and took pictures of the audience, which was the signal for us to all pull out ours and take pictures of them.

Robert Fripp:

Bassist Tony Levin behind drummers Pat Mastelloto, Jeremy Stacey and Gavin Harrison:

Second guitarist and lead vocalist Jakko Jakszyk leaves the stage:

Out, and a leisurely stroll back to Knightsbridge Tube station and thence to St Pancras.

A straightforward run home, with the added bonus that since this was not a Friday night, the last train still had a trolley service.

The Leicester Mercury Clock shows the time of our arrival into the Station Car Park:

Home, and into bed by 02.45.

Postlude to a Holiday

I like the option of being able to recline fully on the business class seats, but the reality is that I don't like sleeping on my back, and the padding on the seats is not really designed for side-sleeping.  As a result, what little sleep I got during the night I got sleeping bolt upright - a situation not helped by Amanda waking me up for snoring at one point... 

As we woke, our screens told us our location:

and breakfast was served at around 08.00 local - bacon rolls / croissants / porridge / tea / orange juice.

As we approached London we started to see some familiar place names:

A smooth landing:

But wait - what was that at around eight seconds into the video?  That's right - a Concorde:

The story of this particular Concorde is told here.

We touched down at around 09.30 and passed through baggage claim and customs with no bother. 

After stocking up with water and fruit from the airport branch of M&S we located the valet parking stand and "Old Faithful":

Out of the airport and onto the M25.  It was slow-going to begin with and also through the roadworks on the M1, but we still made it home in around two hours.  

A brief stop-off at the local supermarket to pick up milk and sandwiches, before arriving home and collapsing - tired but happy.

I think the boss counted 14 piles of laundry when she started sorting it the next day:

Canada - Day 12

As expected, we woke to torrential rain - it was as if the weather was confirming that it was indeed time to go home.

The Zaandam was once again docked outside our window:

We finished packing and, since the rain showed no signs of abating:

decided against going out for breakfast.

After waiting in our room for a while we made our way down to Reception and checked out.  

By taxi to the Gare du Palais, where we checked our luggage, made our way to the Business Class Waiting Room and settled in to wait for the 13.00 train to Ottawa.

A last view of the ferries on the river, and then we settled down for the journey.

Lunch.  Having not been too impressed by the meat option on the outward journey, I joined Amanda in ordering the pasta and salad, followed by an excellent piece of sticky ginger cake:

Amanda also took advantage of the complimentary wine:

The weather wasn't much better in Montreal:

Eventually we arrived at Dorval, which was the small station nearest to Montréal-Pierre Elliott Trudeau International Airport.

Our research had indicated that we might need to locate the Freefone to request a pickup from the local airport 'hopper' bus, but it was already waiting in the parking lot and a number of those disembarking from the train made their way to it.

After a short (10-15 minute) drive we arrived at the airport, located the BA check-in desks - and swiftly discovered that being Business Class passengers on a UK airline does not always convey the same advantages in foreign airports as it does at home; the desks were closed and would remain so for about an hour.

Bags finally checked, we joined a long, snaking line through security before finally making our way into the lounge, where we sat until around 20.45.

Eventually we boarded:

and said farewell to Montreal at around 21.30:

Dinner was served (scallops & salad, pork tenderloin in teriyaki sauce with rice, bread & butter pudding) and we then settled down for the remainder of the flight - Amanda to try sleep, and me to watch "The Girl in the Spider's Web" before also trying to doze.

Canada - Day 11

Up, and a stroll to Café Smith - but not before some more foolery.

"Aren't you going to be a serving maid?", I enquired, gazing wistfully at the cutout of the buxom wench with the foaming jugs (of beer). "Get stuffed", came the reply - "I want to be the Captain"...

On, and into Place Royale, where Louis XIV surveys all-comers:

Breakfast:

A ride on the funicular; from the top and with full zoom we could make out the location of the Montmorency Falls and even one of the observation decks:

Walking slowly past the Chateau Frontenac and the Wolfe-Montcalm Monument in the Parc des Gouverneurs:

Following the footpath up towards the Citadelle de Québec we looked back on some spectacular views:

There was a lot of construction work going on in the Citadelle:

and, in spite of (or, perhaps, because of) the loud exhortations of two young tour guides touting for business for two different companies, we opted not to go into the Citadelle, but to continue our walk around the ramparts.

Looking towards the Plains of Abraham:

Eventually we even found the end of La Promenade des Gouveneurs, which had eluded us on our first visit:

Amanda soaking in the sights:

On maximum zoom we could just see, about 9-10km upriver, the road, rail and pedestrian Pont de Quebec and, behind it, the Pierre-Laporte Bridge; the latter supports a six-lane highway and is both the longest main span suspension bridge in Canada and the longest non-tolled suspension bridge in the world:

More walking, and we eventually arrived at the Assemblée Nationale du Québec:

As can be seen from the bottom of this panoramic shot, there were about 150+ people queuing patiently to enter the building:

Crowd control was about as civilised as I have ever seen, with complimentary cold water available and stewards checking on the well-being of those waiting in the heat.

A little further away, and what's this? Though it seems hard to credit it now, in May 2019 Extinction Rebellion was barely a year old as an organisation, so we can perhaps be forgiven for not immediately understanding the significance of the organised 'die-in' just a few yards from the orderly queues:

To be honest I can't recall what Amanda had spotted, but it must have seemed important:

Perhaps she was just impressed by the Fontaine de Tourny:

Back to the old part of the city, through the Porte St Jean and along Rue St Jean.

Recognising a familiar name we stopped off in another Cafe Smith for refreshments - Earl Grey tea, with a ham and cheese croissant for Amanda and a chocolate muffin for your correspondent:

Out, and more walking - first to the boutique Artisans Canada on Côte de la Fabrique for a mooch and eventually to pick up a late birthday present for Amanda:

during the purchase of which I was told by the female assistant that I had a wicked sense of humour...

On, and along the Rue du Trésor, where almost every inch of wall space is occupied by local artists displaying their craft:

Past the Wolfe-Montcalm Monument once more:

and eventually to find a free seat in front of the Château Frontenac, from where we were able to watch the world pass by, occasionally relocating to watch the action on the river.

The St Lawrence is used for fun:

and business:

Eventually we had to acknowledge that it was time to start saying 'farewell' to Quebec City.

A final view of the Montmorency escarpment:

Touristy pics to capture the moment:

a final ride on the funicular:

and a final snack at our local Cafe Smith:

A last look at the ferry:

And once more, ladies and gentlemen - give it up for the majestic and magical Chateau Frontenac:

The front of our hotel:

The side entrance:

This plaque in the road, just a few yards from the side entrance:

and this shot of the cruise-ship passenger walkway on the bank of the river:

show just how far the shore has retreated in 200+ years.

After a short rest, and with packing begun, we took a break and decided to have a final dinner in Artefact. This collection of antique bottles was on display in the wall not far from Amanda's head:

A bit of a turnaround: a burger for Amanda and a club sandwich for me:

As soon as we vacated our table a young couple started to set up a small PA system in its place, and began to play live music (guitar and vocals) in the bistro. We retired to the Reception / Gallery on the first floor, from where we could take advantage of the free periodicals, enjoy the music and, from time to time, lean over the balustrade to applaud the performance. This latter seemed to be much appreciated, as the majority of their audience were far more interested in maintaining a general hub-bub of conversation than listening to the music - which was actually very good:

And so, back to our room to continue packing.

It has to be said that the evening's "Good Night" card from Housekeeping did not bode well: