The Olde Dickens Shoppe

Dickens, Literature, London, TV & Film, UK

This is going to be long — LOL. On the upside, there will be several miniseries and film recommendations, and lots of photos!

Being a bit layed-up recently, I’ve been watching some film & mini-series adaptations of the lesser known Dickens novels.

There are a few adaptations of the big titles that I can watch over and over again with absolutely no problem — seriously stunning, with incredible performances. If you’d like to get into some Dickens, check out one of these.

I highly recommend the brilliant 1999 David Copperfield with Maggie Smith and Daniel Radcliffe (and a boatload of British film faces). Also remarkable — the 2005 Bleak House with Gillian Anderson & Charles Dance (it’s my favorite). The third of my top three, (however by no means at the bottom), is the 2011 Gillian Anderson Great Expectations. All absolutely top-drawer. The Helena Bonham Carter/Ralph Finnes Great Expectations is quite well done too. I’ve seen all of these several times, and will see them again.

Gillian Anderson & Oscar Kennedy in *Great Expectations*

I didn’t care for the 2023 FX/Hulu version of GEx with Olivia Colman, much as I love her work. The 2012 The Mystery of Edwin Drood is at the bottom of my list. I don’t think I made it through one episode. (They made it very romance-y, dwelled on Rosa, and didn’t quite capture the atmosphere.

I binged a 1977 version of Hard Times over the last day, and quite liked it! Didn’t strike me as corny/silly and 70s at all. I also enjoyed — I don’t even know what to call it — The four-episode 2001 Dickens “spinoff,” Micawber. A rare Dickens comedy, not corny, and well done. The characters are intact, but the plot for each episode is original. There’s a 1995 Martin Chuzzlewit that I liked enough to finish, but wouldn’t watch it again. On the silly side of things, there’s a goofy comedy called The Bleak Old Shop of Stuff, a sort of Dickens-inspired sitcom mash-up. It’s okay, just not my thing.

Bill Sykes, Compeyson, Miss Havisham, Inspector Bucket, Fagin, The Artful Dodger, and Mr. Bumble in *Dickensian*

All in all, I liked the miniseries, Dickensian. It’s very clever, and it’s certainly beautiful. They’ve stuck a ton of Dickens characters into the same few blocks of London, woven their lives all together, and explored how they became who they are in the novels. Brilliantly written. Of course, once you’ve seen it, there’s no reason to watch it again.

The principal characters of the 1998 *Our Mutual Friend*

Today, I’m starting a 1998 BAFTA Award-winning version of Our Mutual Friend, with Timothy Spall (a favorite) in the cast. We’ll see how it goes.

Joel Grey & Patrick Stewart in *A Christmas Carol*

To answer the question which must be answered — my favorite version of A Christmas Carol is the 1999 version with Patrick Stewart as Ebenezer Scrooge. It keeps a lot of what most of the other versions toss out, the language is more poetic and true to the original, and their version of Scrooge’s London is stunning; in addition to the terrific performances.

Oh, hi. It’s me, Phill.

Health, Personal, Travel, Uncategorized

Since I recently updated my ancient Facebook account (I only look at it once or twice a year — Marketplace.) At any rate, probably best not to post anything to me there. I’m on Instagram as well if you’d like.

Since we’ve already had a lot of folks joining us here that I haven’t spoken to in quite a while, I thought I’d do a little bit of a catch up. (Yeah, this is going to be a very long post. I’ll intersperse some photos.)

J and I now live in Westchester, in a charming downtown, short walking distance from the train station and less than an hour from midtown Manhattan. A few blocks from the Hudson River. We bought this 1100 ft.² 3/1 project-house cottage just about six years ago.

The original part of the house was built in the 1840s, it was extended in the 1880s, and I’ve been renovating since we moved in.

It is truly my avocation. When we bought it, the first thing I did was tear the front room of the house off and rebuild the original covered porch. Every board, rail, and post — hand cut, all wood, all me, no pre-fab whatsoever.

The day we closed, and a few months later.

There was a big initial construction push; but then … two bouts of cancer, several operations, and finally a quadruple 10-hour operation with four Columbia specialists last July. This sidelined reno for about three years. I have my challenges, but I am absolutely fine now. I am nearing a year in complete remission. I’m officially disabled with the tag, parking spot in front of the house, etc. But, you probably wouldn’t know it just to look at me. It’s a neuropathy and chronic fatigue situation, besides the fact that they removed a lot of my insides. (Seriously.)

Renovations resumed just recently in full! While we were on vacation, we had our close friend, nextdoor neighbor, and contractor tear down the 1 inch thick plaster-and-lathe ceiling in the large kitchen to expose the huge 180-year-old beams. (This was something I was never going to do on my own. Too big, awful, and unpleasant.) I’m now in the process of doing all the finishing work and putting the kitchen back together the way we want it. Very cottage-core, or course. The work is challenging, very creative, very satisfying, and I’ve learned to pace myself. Updates will come on that soon. It’s looking gorgeous.

I am, as always, a Director of Music and Organist at a local church, which I love. I’ve been there six years as well. My friends there were an enormous help during my very serious health challenges. I also teach piano and other instruments privately, but I’m very selective about who I teach, and only have seven students over three days, 30 minutes each.

I suppose if I haven’t spoken to you in quite a while, I’ve also developed quite a travel bug. I was in London a few months ago, we were in the Catskills a week ago, I’m in Orlando in a week and a half, and in July I’m visiting my mom for a week in Tampa.

While I’m in Tampa, our contractor is tearing out the fiberglass tub/shower situation and putting in a huge, deep, wide tub. Also tiled walls, and vintage shower fixtures. (The tub will be a big help for me. One of the things that helps me most is doing my PT exercises while in hot/warm water.)

Who knows what August will bring!? =)

London January 2025 #7

London, Mobility, Travel

Today is Dishpan Day — All the photos that were sitting left over from yesterday and before! I’ll caption each so we know what we’re looking at.

It Evens Out

Getting to and settled in the airport hotel was a bit of a chore, but then, that’s why I loathe Heathrow. Some people were great, a few were awful. I used my Gett app to call a black taxi, and it had arrived in the time it took me to grab my suitcase and walk out the front door. My Cabbie was awesome, and we had a great conversation about the US and UK on the way to my train at Paddington. Heathrow Express took me to the airport in 15 minutes, where driving would’ve taken over an hour.

It’s a perfectly nice airport, but it’s gigantic. It reminds me of Boston Logan, except more sprawling and way far from the actual city you’re visiting. I might have to switch airlines to Nordic, who fly into Gatwick. I wonder if they have a rewards card. Or I’ll just start going to the tropics, since JetBlue flies to multiple destinations from Westchester Airport.

I left the first hotel at 11, got to Paddington about 12, grabbed a sandwich, got to Heathrow about 1 o’clock, and the airport hotel about 230. The disability helper dudes at Heathrow were absolutely wonderful. Still took forever, but they were so helpful!

There was a couple with six kids and lots of gigantic luggage on the shuttle bus. Seriously — the amount of luggage was truly shocking.

They were sitting in all of the labeled and marked disabled seats (with open seats up the two steps behind them), and had all their baggage stacked in a monumental teetering tower in the other flip-down wheelchair/disabled row. Did they move or offer? Of course they didn’t. They watched me stand with a cane and a rolling suitcase, falling twice (sideways) against the luggage rack while the bus humped and bumped and tilted speedily coursed around the airport ramps.

Their luggage was stacked in the area directly in front of my foot.

I could’ve enforced it, but it was a short trip and I couldn’t be bothered. By the time I got the driver involved and they’d moved, it would’ve been almost over anyway. You wanna be the asshole? Fine with me. A girl behind them apologized to me on their behalf after they got off.

All this aside, a nice surprise was waiting at the end of the journey! I don’t know whether it’s because I’m a member of their hotel club or whether I’m nice and I have a stick. Whichever, I was upgraded to an executive room, which is very comfortable. Very nice hotel too — excellent room service, restaurant, Starbucks, and pizza place inside the lobby, very friendly staff, everyone super helpful. I’m impressed.

I got here later than I would have liked, but check in being 2 PM, I would’ve paid more to arrive earlier anyway. It will be a nice spa day very much including room service and that amazing looking shower.

It is so nice to know I will have a comfortable night and then get on a shuttle that will drop me at my airport terminal in 10 minutes time.

*IHG Rewards? A good attitude, plus the cane?*

Here come the random photos!

Shakespeare’s Globe, in its current position.

*The Globe* interior, via AboutBritain.com

My 14GG John Collett curiously bought the land that The Globe was put on top of at exactly the time Burbage and Shakespeare lost their lease in Smithfield and were looking to move. Plus, the families knew each other.

Why on earth would prosperous wool merchant John (who had probably never even been to London) suddenly buy London land perfect for a theater? It would be like a successful Kansas farmer who’d never left his hometown suddenly buying a lot in 1870s New York City to build a telegraph office. It’s weird.

Anyhow, they took down the old Playhouse, salvaged the expensive beams and anything else of value, and barged it all over to the new site. (They did not do it overnight, despite the legend. That’s silly. It took a few months.)

Big Ben Trapped! (Actually, big Ben is the name of the bell. Not the tower.)

From the airport, Good night to you too! Perhaps I’ll see you tomorrow for a few final thoughts about the trip in general.

London January 2025 #6

Fiascos, Health, London, Mobility, Personal, Travel, UK

It was Westminster Abbey day!

Hooo … am I tired! Tomorrow I’m off to the airport hotel, which sounds dreary, but it will be very nice. It’s supposed to be a quite decent hotel, and it’s attached directly to the airport. This way, I’m already there for my flight the next day, no rushing, no public transportation issues, another spa day.

A foggy, wet day; but no actual rain. Just a light wetting-you mist. Well, ya know. Fog.

“A foggy day in London Town
Had me low and had me down
I viewed the morning with alarm
The British Museum had lost its charm.”

A bit of a rant today concerning the visit. It’s an entertaining and surprising rant, but if you’d like to skip it, just scroll down to the photos.

Lots of walking and standing today, and I’d have to say unfortunately, Westminster Abbey does disabilities very poorly. I went 15 minutes before opening, and after I’d walked around the large yard to get to the main entrance line. The employee out front sort of talked in circles when I asked whether there was a disabled entrance. I was tired of asking about it (and I was already there), so I waited in the line with the normals. They opened at 9:30 on the mark, but all the folks that worked there already seemed very much “on guard.”

When I didn’t want a free tour headset, the person-wearing-a-robe kept going on and on about it. After two or three go-rounds, her last sentence to me was, “But why don’t you have an audio guide?” Um, hello? I guess they don’t like people to refuse headsets. Maybe we try to talk to them too much otherwise. That impression was further confirmed as the day progressed.

Of all of the places I’ve visited in the past week, The Abbey staff has been the least friendly/helpful by far. And I’m not even very needy or demanding. The Docklands Museum and Southwark Cathedral absolutely both destroy Westminster Abbey in this respect. (I should mention, I had a very nice conversation about Jenny Lind with the lovely young headset-collector woman in Poets’ Corner.)

Later, after saying the same thing three or four times to different docents before they “got” what I was talking about, I realized they’re programmed to parrot this and that, and prefer not to be bothered; that I couldn’t possibly have anything useful or interesting to mention. In one instance, I mentioned a fact about some burials in the Stuart aisle of the Lady Chapel. She disagreed. I told her she should really read her very own Dean Stanley’s book … he documented all the royal burials in the mid-1800s.

At one point, I really needed to sit down (or fall down) for a while. I explained to a verger/docent/person. She told me I had to walk all the way around to get the 24 inches forward to where she was standing next to the chairs, rather than just picking up the rope hook for literally two or three seconds.

I was briefly in the vicinity of one absolutely hysterical docent — every time you took a step towards him, he either exaggeratedly turned his head the other way or walked to another corner. (For real. I tried it a few times to make sure. LOL)

This kind of crap filters down through the layers, and of course, as they’ll often remind you, this is first and foremost, a place of worship. As a career churchy myself, to say I was less-than-impressed is a gross understatement. And I’m looking at you, Dean Hoyle.

That’s plenty of complaining for today! Let’s look at some awesome pictures! I took dozens and dozens, so we’ll just do the highlights here.

I guess I can now say that I was once in the quire at Westminster Abbey

Chaucer’s tomb. Interestingly, he was not interred here as a great poet, but due to his job as an upper-level government functionary.

QEI — The lady, the myth, the legend. (She’s not in the box. She’s stacked in the crypt underneath below the floor, with her sister Queen Mary. Elizabeth is on top. Poetic justice.

Remarkably preserved medieval paintings!

I’m a bit of a scholar on the subject, I’ve done my own research, I’ve read Dean Stanley’s book(s) at least two or three times, and I’ve been to the Abbey in person several times, this being my last.

Yes, sure, I felt a little unwelcome. Big deal. However, combined with feeling physically uncomfortable without any way of helping myself, I don’t need to return. There was an Evensong later in the day I’d considered, but I hopped on the boat for an afternoon cruise instead.

One of the crew came over to me (a few of them know me by now) to mention that a more comfortable window seat had just opened up on the starboard side, and I realized that I felt very much more welcome on the Uber Boat than inside Westminster Abbey.

Eh. Can’t win ’em all.

London January 2025 #5

London, Mobility, Theatre, Travel, UK

It’s Spa Day … ahhhh.

It was a big walking day yesterday, and I was out from around 10 to 4. That’s a very big day for me, and an even bigger day for my nervy feet.

Ergo, I turned my alarm off, decided I could sleep as late as I liked, and decided the single event of the day would be eating at The Anchor, which is directly downstairs.

Maybe I’ll sit by the river a bit.

The Tate Modern (a notable contemporary art museum) is less than a five minute walk; but unsurprisingly, I couldn’t be less interested. It’s interesting that it’s built in a former power plant, but for me, it ends there.

(That chunk in the front is the new part.)

I stayed in bed until 11 AM, and then ran myself a hot bath in the big bathtub. Wonderful!

The Anchor is an Elizabethan Era tavern and inn. Lotso famous people did lotso famous things there. It’s the sole survivor of the riverside inns that existed in Shakespeare’s day, when this area was the heart of theatreland. It was frequented by Shakespeare, Hemings, Burbage, surely almost all the actors from the Globe, the Swan and the Rose, and probably my 14th great grandfather.

All three theaters were literally within shouting distance of the tavern. It’s where Samuel Pepys (one of the greatest diarists of his own or any other era) observed the Great Fire of London in 1666. He took a quick boat ride across the river to “a little alehouse on bankside … and there watched the fire grow.”

Artist *Lieve Verschier*, via *The Museum of Budapest*

After the area faded from popularity as the theatrical center, it became very handy for smugglers and pirates. During the 19th century, a large beam fell and was replaced, revealing hidden rooms, fairly obviously created as hiding places for stolen goods.

I’m now back after an early dinner at The Anchor and a run by the café to grab an afternoon latte. Dinner was fine.

Don’t get me wrong, it was beautifully prepared and very nicely done, but I really wanted shepherds or cottage pie, and they didn’t have that. Which struck me as a bit weird for a major tourist pub. I had a steak and ale pie with mash. It was excellently prepared, but I wasn’t crazy about it. I ate half of it, and brought the rest back to the room. Might eat it, might not. I stole a fork on purpose. I put it in my takeout container. I’ll give it back tomorrow. That’s what they get for not having shepherds pie.

My leg and feet feel pretty good for this time of day. Awesome, since tomorrow will be a big walking day — I’ve already got entry tickets to Westminster Abbey and the additional exhibition with the centuries-old funeral effigies of the monarchs.

If anyone finds themself planning a London visit, I very much recommend this hotel if you’re into moderates. (Few amenities, rooms only cleaned if you ask, that sort of thing.) The staff is especially lovely — they got me ice. That’s a big deal. Trying to find ice in a London hotel is like trying to find a Yorkshire pudding in an American one. They took me back into the little restaurant kitchen, and sent me off with three glasses of big ice cubes from the freezer. Yay, ice!

Amusing Misadventure — I didn’t wear a headband today since it was warmer, and two people yesterday and one the day before said to me, “I have a wig/hat just like that.” This irritated me extremely. I’ve washed my hair vigorously twice, and it’s still pretty bright, so I haven’t purpled it yet. Maybe I won’t have to.

Anchor No-Headband Selfie! It’s my own hair!

Sit Still Phill

Incidents involving antiquity, travel, renovation, and music.

London