Travelling England (9)

Saturday, July 24, 2010:

Eastbourne

After dinner last night we went to see a 19th century magic lantern show at the Albany Hotel (all the Lion-hotels used for the conference are owned by the same Arab sheikh, I've been told). Fun to see and to realize that no one in it's days of origin could have imagined we would be living in a world with movies, television and the internet. Maybe Dickens himself did see some of the pictures. The man working the lantern was assisted by an incredibly sexy girl of about eighteen, maybe his granddaughter, wearing a miniskirt and a shirt with a very low neckline, which quite distracted me and some of the other gentlemen. At dinner I happened to sit next to another sexy lady, a young assistant professor of English at the University of Kraków in Poland. Friendly, good looking, excellent English, quite my type, but married. We ended the evening in a small company (Pieter, Ann and one or two others) with a beer on the Edwardian pier right in front of my hotel, being reminded this is England because just before eleven it was 'last orders, please!'

With one or two exceptions the staff in all the Lion-hotels is foreign, most of them from Eastern Europe I believe, judging from the accents. Almost all of them good looking and very friendly girls, but I wonder if they make the same money as English workers and if they are members of any British trade union. Capitalism is more and more showing it's nasty side again, the side Dickens already fulminated against.

Sunday, July 25, 2010:

Eastbourne

Had Stella lived she would greatly have enjoyed last night's banquet. The beautiful dresses, some straight from the days of Dickens, the Irish music, very well played by Udita Everett and Magdalena Reising, the well worded 'Immortal Memory' by professor Michael Slater. It was like going back to the 19th century. 'The 19th century is my favorite era', Stella would say from time to time, 'I would like to live in those days.' I usually answered that it would be all very well providing you were healthy and rich. I'm more in favour of the 18th or the early 19th century, as I can't stand the hypocritical moralism of the Victorian Age very well.

Yesterday morning we did business at the General Meeting. I was moved by hearing Stella's name included in the list of deceased members who were commemorated. It almost brought tears to my eyes. I had quite forgotten Pieter de Groot told me last year he had given notice to headquarters of her passing away

This morning we had three excellent lectures again. One on the illnesses in the books of Dickens, connected with the unspeakable filthiness of London in the first half of the 19th century, the second on the managers who organized Dickens's reading tours and the third on what happened to the girls who lived in Urania Cottage. Afterwards a generous lunch. I only took some vegetarian lasagna and a bowl of fruit otherwise I would hardly be eating at dinner. No wonder there are so many very fat people in Britain.

After lunch I had three quarter's of an hour before the coach ride to Beachy Head. I smoked a pipe on the porch of the Chatsworth and watched the people strolling by. Not all of them old age pensioners. The beach does attract a number of young people as well, taking a day trip like we used to do going to Southport, Llandudno or New Brighton in uncle Harold's car or, in the case of Llandudno sometimes by boat from Liverpool. The ride to Beachy Head was on an open top double decker, which was most uncomfortable because of the cold wind. It was chilly too because of the sea mist on the cliffs. I meant to walk back to Eastbourne but in the end I thought it was too cold to enjoy it. On the ride back I took one of the few seats inside, but there was a draft which made it almost as unpleasant as on top. Fortunately it was only a short ride. Back in town I had a stroll with Yasuko along the water front after which she went to evensong. I don't think she's a christian, though I'm not sure, but I imagine she went for the experience. I went to my room to pick up a book and do some reading in the bar of the Chatsworth, waiting for dinner. I had no wish to enter a church and particularly not on the day before Stella's birthday. I'm growing allergic to hallelujah and praise the Lord.