Another successful saunter sans purpose through the sunny streets of Old London Town.
On Sunday 14th May, just one week after the coronation of Charles III, a very different kind of event, yet one steeped in as much ritual, tradition and protocol, took place. The Grand Flaneur Walk was not placing a crown of gold upon a monarch’s head; instead, earlier that morning, an assortment of titfers were being placed upon the flaneurs and flaneuses heads, to see which one was right for that day. Canes were also selected, collar studs adjusted, ties straightened and hip flasks filled.
The second leg of the saunter sans purpose took us all the way along Strand and into the Aldwych, pausing to admire St Paul’s Cathedral before descending into the City of London. The hostelry that beckoned here was the Old Cheddar Cheese, an ancient grotto of a pub with three levels of damp cellars, which quickly filled up with flannel, linen, barathea, sea island cotton and sixty vintage hats and canes, thoroughly confusing the tourists who thought they had entered a vision of early 20th century London.
Threading our way around Threadneedle Street, the rightful company of gadabouts and boulevardiers finally made it, exhausted and over-exposed to daylight, to the welcoming cavern of Vout-o-Reenees, a private members club near Aldgate housed in the crypt of a church. There a seat was finally won and a martini gladly consumed, by those who had, in the line of duty, walked for nearly eight miles.
The sun had shone steadily throughout, straw boaters and pocket watches catching the light in a manner that was, to say the least, moving and poignant. Piquancy and symbolism was further added when someone observed that, during the coronation only a week earlier, it had rained consistently all day. Our own Charles, in the form of louche entertainer Champagne Charlie, was not crowned that day, but someone did have to replace the top hat which excessive champagne had caused to topple from his head.
Meanwhile, across the Channel in Germany, another sixty Teutonic flaneurs conducted their own saunter through the sunny streets of Dusseldorf, setting off at precisely the same hour, allowing for the time difference.
