4 May - Dragon Quest

I don’t remember where, but I read somewhere about the dragons that guard the city of London. It turns out that they are Dragon Boundary Marks, the City of London’s own variant of the road signs you see as you approach small towns. Though they look old, they’re fairly new, but based on markers that appeared after The Great Fire.

According to a website I found,

"The common design is based on two huge dragons that once stood above the entrance to the Coal Exchange. The trade in coal in London was hugely important, not just because it fueled the city, but thanks to taxes that were introduced after the Great Fire of London, it’s funded a lot of London building works. The dragons were designed by the City Architect, J. B. Bunning, and made by London foundry, Dewer, in 1849.

They were moved from the Coal Exchange building which was demolished in 1962 and now stand at Embankment, on either side of the road. Over the next few years a number of half-size replica dragons were erected around the City, and they’re still there in varying states of repair. There is an odd rumor that they are griffins, but they are officially Dragon Supporters — in that they are a) dragons, and b) supporting the shield. The sword in the crest is the badge of the Patron Saint of the City of London, St Paul."

 So armed with this knowledge, I decided to try to track them down.  There are ten of them and, since they mark the boundaries of old London, they are scattered about the town, requiring a lot of walking and some transit on the tube. Therefore, I’d get some exercise and learn a bit more about the city. I decided to start with the dragon at Liverpool Street. Here’s where I realized that bloggers who write about the dragons give very sketchy directions. I arrived at the Liverpool Street station and asked a man in the tourist information booth where I could find the Liverpool Street dragon.  He said, “Is that a pub?” I explained that, no, it’s one of the original markers of the boundary of London.  He said, “Oh, right.  Just go upstairs and turn left and they’re right there.”  I went upstairs, turned left: nothing. I walked the length of Liverpool Street: nothing. In my search, I passed this interesting plaque:

There are two massive construction projects going on on Liverpool Street and I had read that from time to time the dragons have been moved to accommodate such things.  Disappointed, I was about to give up when I caught sight of two young Bobbies and asked them if they knew where I could find the dragon.  They were a bit puzzled, but when I showed them a picture of what it looked like, they knew exactly where it was and gave me directions.  It’s not on Liverpool Street at all, it’s on Bishopsgate, number 201. So off I trod, passing Eataly (I love that place!) and their Aperol Spriteria, and on and on until finally I found #201 and at the far end of the building, I found the dragon. Sadly, it was not in the best of shape. Someone had slapped bills over its shield, its pedestal was chipped and missing “London” and it looked a bit sad. But at least I found him (her).

Walking back toward the tube, I had a great view of the gherkin, the name given to one of London’s modern glass buildings.

My next stop was Aldgate. As I was leaving the tube, I passed a memorial to the children of the Kindertransport in WW2.

I had read that the dragon was near a ventilation vent for the tube, so exiting the station, I walked around the block, but found no dragon.  I walked a bit further down the road and found it outside Aldgate House. It was in better shape than the Bishopsgate dragon, but one side was marred by graffiti. Still, it looked pretty good. 

Two down, eight to go.

On to Tower Hill, where the dragon was reportedly just outside the Tower of London. While walking on the Thames side, I got a great view of Tower Bridge and caught the last few seconds of the bridge closing, it having been raised for a passing boat.

I passed the Traitors’ Gate and was tempted to take a tour of the Tower, but it being a bank holiday, it was absurdly crowded, so I decided to leave it for another time.

I walked all around the Tower and finally stopped at one of the entrances to ask if they knew where I could find the dragon. They sent me up the hill and away from the Tower. Along the way I passed some wonderful wild cats.

Finally I turned left at the top of the hill, and there it was, looking wonderful.

I headed back down to the river, getting a view of another wonderful modern London building (no name that I know of). *May 6 addition: My wonderful cousin Audrey tells me that this is the HQ of the Mayor of London and London Assembly.

A bit further along was the Shard.

I made it to London Bridge and had to cross to the south bank to find the next dragon. He was high enough on a plinth to avoid graffiti and abuse and looked smashing.

Back across the London Bridge to walk the north bank toward the west, I got a pretty good view of the building they call the walkie talkie.

I passed the Southwark Bridge and followed part of the Jubilee Walk, this section a tunnel with some wonderful tiles of old London.

A bit further along, I came upon the Queenhithe Dock Mosaic, a 30 metre long and one metre deep work of art, which charts some of the history of the dock. The Queenhithe, located on the north bank of the river Thames, was a main port of medieval London.

The wall where the mosaic is placed is a flood defence barrier for the city and is also part of a Scheduled Ancient Monument (the only Anglo-Saxon dock in the world). There is a granite frame and inside of this a small border of pottery and materials collected from the river and dated by archaeologist Mike Webber

This art work tells the story of Queenhithe (the Queen’s wharf) from the first Roman visit up to the present (2014) with 164 panels depicting character and aspects of the small port’s story. There are some portraits, for example Queen Mathilda after whom the port was named and Geoffrey Chaucer who used to collect the tax on each boat that off-loaded at the dock.

Several artists and experts worked on the project alongside  hundreds of volunteers including local residents and school children. There’s a wonderful film that tells the tale of how it was created at this link. 

Back along the river walk I looked out to see Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre on the south bank,

The Millennium Bridge (pedestrians only)

and then Blackfriars Bridge, which I crossed to find the next dragon.  The Blackfriars bridge is under construction – what isn’t? – and the poor dragon is behind a chain link fence, trying to look fierce and proud against all odds. He’s the only dragon painted in a different accent color. 

I headed back across to the bridge to the north bank and the grandest of the dragons at Embankment. They are truly impressive.

For those keeping track, that makes six dragons. Four are still to be found, but after five hours walking and over 20,000 steps, according to my pedometer app, I was a bit knackered. I hopped on the tube to get to Charing Cross Road to find Cass Art Supplies. 

Before I left Seattle  I tried, but failed, to find a spring coat -  I guess that item is a relic from my youth.   Not finding one, I decided to make one.  I had a simple jacket pattern and I tweaked it to be a bit longer, added a lining and a kick pleat and, tada!, created the most boring, boxy thing you can imagine.

I was disappointed, but then I had a brain wave: I’ll paint it! Research told me I could find fabric markers at Cass. I’m very glad I went there, because the people working there were very helpful and prevented me buying a product that would have washed out. I decided that I would paint a little bit every day (or every day that I had the time) and by the time I returned I would have a very different, less boring item.  Stay tuned.

The evening brought a wonderful concert at St. Martin in the Fields Church:

Vivaldi’s Four Seasons by Candlelight, featuring the St. Martin’s Chamber Ensemble with Polina Sosnina on harpsichord and Richard Milone on violin. The program opened with ‘Rondeau’ from Abdelazar Suite Z 570 by Henry Purcell. Next up was three movements of Mozart’s Divertimento No. 15 in B flat major, K.287. To me, Mozart’s music is identifiable within 8 bars. It was lovely and made me wish they had done all 5 movements, but I guess program length was at issue. Up next was ‘Allegro assai’ from String Quartet in D major, Opus 1 No. 6.  The chamber orchestra was perfection.  I loved watching them subtly interacting, all eyes focused on the lead violinist, a very tall woman dressed in very comfy looking slacks and blouse.  The second violinist was fully a head shorter and was so focused on the leader that they played as one. They were supported by a wonderful female cellist  and male bass violinist and a man on viola who, to my ear, seemed the only weak(ish) link.  That said, he only suffered by comparison.  After those pieces, the harpsichordist and featured soloist, Richard Milone, entered. Milone was not just an incredible musician, he was a marvelous emcee and entertainer.  A fairly short man, he seemed like a sprite moving around, dancing and even stomping his feet at  one point.  He read the sonnets upon which the composition was based and that was such a treat.  Hearing that made the music truly come to life.  His was a virtuoso performance and a joy to experience.   After several curtain calls, the ensemble and Milone treated us to a magnificent encore, a tango by Astor Piazzola called Oblivion. Piazzola was an accordionist and you can hear Oblivion played by him with orchestral accompaniment here.  

I floated home on the memory of that magnificent music.