My Second pilgrimage place was a bike ride away. Kensington High Street and the Bristol Cars showroom. Of course this was In the days when Mr Crook ruled the Bristol kingdom.
If I was lucky Mr Tony Crook would be around.
Many a time I spent chatting with him,
tales of racing and flying, he even dropped me at the tube in his Blenheim once.
If he wasn't there I would walk around and down into the NCP car park where Sam? Sorry if I got that wrong, would be washing and polishing Bristol's galore. ♥️
My First pilgrimage place is not so far away. Soho to be precise, 18 Greek Street to be exact.
The Establishment, Peter Cook's wonderful club, 1961 to 64
I would imagine the queue on opening night stretching down and around onto Old Compton Street because the advance membership sales far exceeded the capacity. Only Peter! ♥️
"you are are you not auditioning for the part of Tarzan...."
My Third pilgrimage was further afield, much further up to Manchester and The Whitworth Gallery.
To visit my favourite painting of course!
"A Portrait of Lucien Freud" by Francis Bacon.
(I often called to see if it was on show, and if not arrange to see it in storage.)
I loved the excitement I felt as I walked through the entrance past the cafe to see my old friend.
The picture left does it no justice at all, It's brilliant, imposing, and maybe got me into wearing black jackets
For sure ♥️
ps/ Since writing this the painting has moved or was being moved to The Tate - Liverpool.