London II

I would give all my fame for a pot of ale- Henry the Fifth, Act 3: Scene 2

Day two in London was rain drenched and gray. It was almost noon when I finally ventured out into the cold streets from the warmth of Priyam's room. The moment I stepped out of Charing Cross, it began to rain in earnest! The unpredictable London rains. Clutching my soggy map,and dripping wet I half walked half ran across the embankment bridge, chancing another glance more at the West minister now shrouded by a veil of rain.

The Thames winds through central London touching many a famed landmark and familiar bridge names like the Waterloo and the London Bridge. Incidentally,the London Bridge has not fallen down yet (not that it would be a great architectural loss).I stood slightly shivering under the Waterloo bridge. A bunch on noisy school children dressed in blue blazers were drying themselves dancing to the rhythm of the music played on a tape recorder as refugees from the rain formed a scanty crowd around them cheering and clapping.

Near the National Theater complex I met Mathai. We knew each other through common friends but had never met in person Over the lunch at a nearby Brazilian place Mathai asked me what it was that I would want to do next in London" "Ale", said I.

I hated the idea of sitting alone in pubs.But, I hated more the idea of leaving London without a taste of ale, Moreover, Appa had forbidden me to leave London without trying it. Despite an official meeting scheduled in about an hour Mathai took me to a near by watering hole. Ten years back when Mathai first came to London there had been many places that sold local brews alone. In recent years, bigger brands have claimed the shelves of these places. While their sales have diversified to include lunch and dinner menus, the local flavour and character have disappeared.


When the plague haunted London, it is said that while the rich avoided water for fear of contagion, and resorted to drinking wine and sherry, the poor depended on ale.The brew in my glass was a perfect balance of bitterness and smoothness and each sip was a delight. In my head I said my " Hail Mathais" and finished the last drop in my glass with a heartfelt "Amen". Ale is brewed from malted barley using a warm fermentation with a strain of brewers' yeast. It is the addition of hops that gives it the distinctive bitter flavour.

As the giver of ales departed for his meeting, I walked on, along the south bank and past the Blackfriars Bridge. A little way along groups of tourists had come to a halt in front of a rounded building with white walls- the Globe. The present 'Shakespeare's Globe' is a modern reconstruction of the one demolished in 1644.The recreation, it is said, is faithful to the original and more importantly, is at the very same location. The posters on the walls announced Dr. Faustus and Much Ado about Nothing. But it was well past the opening hours. As the lucky owners of the tickets for the next play queued outside the Globe, I turned back 'jealousy infected.'

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I write this amidst another spell of travels. After Rome and Naples, now I am on a bus from Palermo to Sicily. Out side my window the Sicilian country side unfolds- grasslands of a sunshine yellow, marked here by a small cluster of green and there by a narrow winding stream. Alongside, is the picture of a young and sunburnt Michael Corleone and his two companions negotiate the landscape with youthful agile steps.