Let's go Rome!

At the beginning of December, we went to Rome for five days to take in the Italian Flute Convention (Flautissimo - gotta love the name) and . . . because it's ROME.

At Flautissimo we heard Trevor give his "Carnival of Venice" show (in which he plays about as many flutes as you can think of, from the C flute to the bass flute, Chinese flutes and multiphonic flutes, electric flutes to a bicycle pump and a carrot - which he cores and tunes on stage).  We also heard recitals by Philippe Bernold, Juliette Hurel, Emily Beynon, Silvia Careddu and others.  And of course, I had a chance to partially resurrect some of my ancient Italian - enough to order pizza anyway. 

There are so many things I could say about our trip - probably boring both you and me - so since a picture is worth a thousand words (which I would inevitably give you) here are a few pictures to tell you all what we got up to in Rome:

On the plane

Off the plane

In the hotel room

Out of the hotel room

At the Pantheon

The Colosseum

Constantine's Arch

Monument to Vittorio Emmanuele II

The Vatican

The Spanish Steps

Central fountain at Piazza Navona

Trevi Fountain

Gotcha, Mr Serious!

So Yun's birthday dinner

Ladies who lunch

At the top of the Spanish Steps

Yep, I had a pretty good time.

In which Bonnie and I behave quite childishly

As the days ticked down toward my dear friend Bonnie's inevitable and unwilling departure from London, it was of the utmost importance that the two of us get together in our favorite city one last time (for now, anyway) and make a day of it.

After a bite of lunch and a peak at the Covent Garden Christmas tree, we headed to the "Winter Wonderland" that springs up yearly at Hyde Park.  It's part fair, part market, part amusement park, and completely hilarious.

There's the Christmas markets . . .

The singing Bavarian reindeer . . .

The ice-skating rink . . . 

 . . . and the haunted mansion . . . ??

Yes, apparently in the UK, Christmas has its own freaky element, and not just because all your relatives are coming round.

Nothing says, "come on down our chimney, Santa!" like Jaws bursting out your front window.

Bonnie, pointing out the clever "re-purposing" of the haunted house ride with the strategic insertion of Mr. Scrouge.

As you can see by this action shot from within the ride itself, I can vouch for his having made it that much scarier.

Naturally, no visit to a Christmas Winter wonderland/fair/market/amusement park is complete without visiting the Big Man himself:

What??  All the other kids in line were crying!  (We really did want to cry when Santa told us once upon a time he'd been an actor in the West End.)

But I bet the other kids didn't get any mulled wine as an after-Santa treat!  (at least I hope they didn't . . . )

As Bonnie and I sat and sipped our mulled wine while reviewing our Santa portraits with pleasure, we happened to look up just in time to see the one thing that could make our Hyde Park Christmas Winterwonderland experience even more absurd:

Nuns.

I just couldn't resist - Bonnie pretended to be taking a picture of me while the Mistresses God were taking in the Winterwonderland Talking Tree statue (you know, cause every fair's gotta have one).  Naturally, my enthusiasm could not be suppressed.

"Do you have UK citizenship?"

Herbert, my stud from the carousel.

Trafalgar Square at night with the yearly Christmas tree from Norway's government.  (When we saw it they hadn't had the lighting ceremony yet - probably still fumigating the poor thing to rid it of the stench of lutefisk.)

Sporting my new haircut at the coffee place where we warmed up before I had to go home.

Gunna miss you, Bonnie Jean!!

In which things get rather posh

No, for any of you who were wondering, I have not fallen off the face of the earth.  I have in fact been rather busy and important (at least in my own head).

Here's the run down of what we've been up to the last couple of weeks:

London Symphony Orchestra concert at the Barbican Hall in London.  Gareth Davies played the Nielsen Flute Concerto (that's not him above).

Jenny and I at dinner before the concert.

The goofy bunch that inexplicably came to sit down across from us.

I got in touch with my artisanal side and made bread.

We went to lunch at the private country estate turned hotel/restaurant Eastwell Manor

The dining room

View from atop the staircase

View from my seat at the table

Followed by this thing of beauty (and tastiness)

The company

The gigglers

And in the tradition of saving the best for last, the amazing bathroom!  Hard to get a full sense of it here (I resisted the temptation to take pictures of the actual stalls, which were beautiful as well) but it really was quite heavenly - I could have hung out there for hours very happily!

As far as class is concerned, we've had two more guest masterclasses in the studio - Juliet Edwards, piano and Pat Morris, piccolo - both very informative and enjoyable.  We spent my birthday this last Wednesday at the Royal Academy of Music listening to a William Bennett's masterclass (and doing a very, very, VERY tiny bit of shopping).

And we had a bit of a "Thanksgiving" celebration on Saturday - for which we ate cheese fondue (?)  I was granted leave, however, to bake and bring a pecan pie for the occasion just for a tiny hint of Americana (all things in moderation).

Off to Rome on Thursday!