Chelsea morning

I took the tube and bus down to Chelsea embankment this morning, as the Victorian writers Thomas and Jane Carlye's house (National Trust) looked easy to get to. Got off at the wrong stop, but it gave me a chance to walk back towards Albert Bridge and catch at blip! The four chimneys you might be able to make out behind the bridge belong to the world-famous Battersea power station, on the south side of the river.

Carlyle's house was beautifully furnished with original items and paintings, spread out over five floors. Carlyle hated the noise from the street, so he had a double-insulated attic room built at the top of the house. Far from being soundproof as intended, it let in previously unheard sounds such as train whistles! Poor man. Thomas found the various noises made by the readers at the British Library reading room so loathsome that he set up his own library, the now prestigious-London library, which houses some really interesting collections. A glance at the promotional leaflet showed annual membership starting at £475 per year, or £12, 400 life membership for a 50-year old. I might just wait...

Photography was not allowed inside the house, and the garden, though pretty, was a typical tiny central-London strip behind the house. I did, however, use the only loo, an outside Victorian privy, which was also used by Charles Dickens, John Ruskin, and John Stuart Mills, all of whom were regular visitors to the house at Cheyne Row. The loo of the literati is both clean and commodious, though using it of a dark wintry eve, armed only with a lantern throwing shadows on the wall, must have been interesting.
Jane Carlyle died in 1866, and Thomas survived her by 15 years. The house was handed over to the National Trust as early as 1895.

Afterwards, I walked back along the embankment until I reached Chelsea bridge, where I resumed my journey by public transport and headed back to Paddington railway station for my train back to Stroud.

The highlight of the day, however, was my first session of a climbing course at the Warehouse in Gloucester. At the end of the two hour session, I could tie a figure of eight knot to my harness, and manage basic belaying (taking up the slack of the rope of the climbing partner). Climbing the wall was the easier part, but I haven't done any climbing for 21 years, since I lived in the Czech Repbublic.