The Nationall POROTRAIT Gallery (Definitely NOT to be Confused with the National Gallery); AND How to Ride the Bus Successfully

My intention and plan for the day had been to visit the National Portrait Gallery and follow that with a quiet coffee in Soho at another of the independent coffee bars. But the NPG was, for me, a bit of a let down after having visited the National Gallery a week ago (which I have yet to write about, because I want to do it justice). The two are connected, joined within the same building, I believe, though you have to access each independently. The NPG had a single wing on the second floor that I liked, a collection of portraits of important men in English history, all done in the classical style of the 1800s. This collection spanned several rooms that bordered a long, wide hallway, interspersed with marble busts of other serious Englishmen. The rooms themselves were quite traditional, to match the dignified air of its residents, with polished wood floors and tall ceilings. Unfortunately, the rest of the building had been restored, at some point, and converted, in the process I suspect, to a flat, white, modern museum that, for me, was visually unappealing. I admit I didn't bother to explore the rest of the museum too thoroughly. I breezed right through because other than the one 1800s wing the rest on the lower levels were all modern interpretations of human portraiture, and photography of recent celebrities. To me, that was nothing unusual; it looked like spreads and glossies from fashion and other high-end magazines.

Not mt style. Sorry.

This portrait of Darwin was near the top of my 'favorites' list in the NPG, partly because I've seen it so often in school, printed in textbooks. Plus, it's a fantastic painting, of course.

A giant oil painting on canvas of the royal brothers. I LOVE them :-D The painting was well done, too; an accurate likeness, I'd say.

But to be fair, I might re-visit it...give the NPG a second chance some cold, rainy day when there's nothing more interesting to do. I feel like I probably missed some great art this time around. But I just wasn't feeling it today.

View out the front window on the second floor of the city bus.

Disappointed, I sincerely hoped Flat White (the coffee bar I'd selected) would make up for a wasted hour-long voyage by bus into Central. Bus rides can be a full adventure all on their own. And by adventure I mean it's about as much fun as having a root canal. The trick to making the ride as bearable as possible is to, first, take into consideration how far you're going. If it's just a quick jaunt up the road, well, you really just shouldn't bus it....you should walk, for chrissake. It won't take much more time and you wont have to spend the £2.20 to get there. But if you ignore what I have to say (it's ok, most people do) and choose to ride the bus three blocks, anyway, be smart about it and stand near the back door; don't sit down. You'll have the ability to move about during the commute and avoid having to get up and down and play musical chairs. You'll also be able to avoid the creepers who will stare you down, the small children who wipe snot on the seats, and the crotchety old men who talk to themselves. And NEVER, EVER sit on the very back seat of the bus because it vibrates to no end and you'll get sick as a dog and leave the bus with a splitting headache and, most likely, a fractured vertebra.

At the origination point; see, NO PEOPLE! The perfect ride!

However, if you're like me and you, wisely, only take the bus for serious jaunts across town (probably because your local tube station is closed for repairs and maintenance work), definitely, definitely sit up top on the second level. Yes, all the long-journey buses are double-deckers so this will always be an option. Luckily, there are trends on the bus. The weird people and the ones who smell bad all stay down below. I could go into specifics of why this happens but I'd end up sounding like a complete jerk. So just take my word for it.

Also, buses have very specific start and stop points. The nearer the bus is to it's originating point the more likely you are to get a seat, and a good one, before anyone else gets on. If you're REALLY lucky, you can snag the very front seat and look out the giant front window....without having the distraction of other people in front of you.

You'll look down on the single-level buses...and probably laugh to yourself

Another good trick, for both bus and tube riding, is to wear your headphones and listen to calming music, whatever that means for you....otherwise you'll start to go insane. Like, seriously. There's too much chaos and too many idiots; you need to tune them out. Pair your headphones with sunglasses and suddenly you're shut off in your own little traveling world. You don't have to hear all the whining children, the cell phone gabbers, and the foreigners who talk extra loud in some other cryptic language. Nope, you've got you're soothing playlist to fill your ears instead. Since I've arrived I've created hours and hours of new, relaxed playlists for this very purpose.

A clear view from the front window. Just ignore the weaving traffic; it's too scary to watch. Trust in your bus driver. They can maneuver like there's no tomorrow.

Keep an eye out for useful ads on the bus, as well.

A side note: you can always tell who lives and works in London this way. All the locals wear headphones on the public transport systems. They know their route like back of their hand so they don't need to listen to the loudspeaker instructions at tube stations (nor do they need to stop to read the maps). They don't need to pay attention to which stop the bus is approaching because they know the city by heart, already. Locals can tune out the rest of the bustling city...because after a while the constant movement becomes less of a thrill and more of an inconvenience.

It really doesn't take long to memorize the order of tube stops, which lines go where, how to connect most effectively from bus to tube to train, and the fastest, cheapest ways to get to your destination. I've learned it all in just over a month. Granted, I've been to London before and spent a few weeks using the Underground in the past...but that hardly counts.

Anyway, back to the real meat of this story ;)

I think I spent the same amount of time I had browsing the portraits at the NPG as I did looking for Flat White, the coffee bar I'd planned to visit after my museum expedition. Now, either Google Maps is way off or those streets in Soho are just so twisted I can't find anyplace specific without circling around the blocks seven times like a madman. And there are LOTS of potential blocks to circle. The trick is always knowing which way is North (or S, E, or W...take your pick), which I always do. I never get lost, not here or anywhere. So while I did have to back track once or twice I always knew where I was, generally speaking.

And here I thought I was getting so familiar with Soho. But hey....I'll give myself the benefit of the doubt this time because Flat White IS quite hidden, unspottable until you're practically inside the doors. It's on a non-drivable street just a few blocks North of the NPG and, currently, the buildings on this street are under construction/are being renovated, or something. So the scaffolding and the cones kind of hid Flat White. Also, though I looked up the street view as well, I didn't recognize the tiny black awning amongst the street vendors, who were nearly blocking the entrance anyway. Though the streets of Soho are less busy during the week, with only the local artsy-fartsy type meandering about, a businessman or two spattered in the mix here and there, this street was quite loud, due to the construction.

I ducked in to Flat White and thankfully it turned out to be a tiny haven from the busy street. I guess I've said that about most of the cafes and coffee houses I've visited but it's still just as true. You go into these tiny places and they're just so cozy, it makes you want to curl up with a blanket and a book in a dark corner and just hide away for a day or two.

So what else would I order other than a flat white if I was AT Flat White?

Nothing else, that's what. As pretentious as their website sounded, the staff there was very nice and very smiley. I chose to sit at one of the very back tables in the single, long room, away from the doors and the noise in the street. A wise choice, if I may say so, because it also afforded me the comfort of peace, distanced from the constant hubbub at the register (or till, as the Brits call them).

Granted, this photo makes it appear to have a white interior. You know what? Forget it.

The interior of Flat White is, ironically enough, all black. Seats, tables, walls, and wall art – which were all pictures of cameras....just FYI, I guess. As if they were trying to melt right into the black seats, everyone seated was dressed in all black and blended right in to their surroundings. Well, for that reason and also because everyone in Soho is unnaturally skinny; you look at them sideways and they disappear. I always feel unnaturally fat and round visiting that part of town, mingling with both female and male waifs, looking like they just floated in riding on a cool breeze. I think their layers of black leather coats, wool sweaters, and heeled black boots weight more than they do.

Like this supermodel, Freja Beha, spotted shopping in Soho.

 

No, I didn't see Kate today. But she IS one of those beautiful, albeit skinny shoppers in London.

 

I'd go back if I was with someone, to people watch and chat, but if we're making comparisons I prefer Sacred, so far. Just a better vibe, for me, I think. Flat White, since its so hidden, was almost cliquey. Most people in there seemed to know each other. I, as usual, was the odd one out. At least I'd worn all black, too ;)