Finding ourselves at sea
THE Printworks in Canada Water, SE16, a former industrial building now converted into a nightclub, made a magnificent setting for the concluding dinner of the London Festival of Architecture. Its vast, spotlit interior, once the setting for printing presses, accommodated the longest table I have ever seen for the occasion. From most angles, the sea of glasses and cutlery punctuated by tall candelabra seemed to vanish into infinity. The staff served the dinner with aplomb and when I thanked a waiter at the end, it seemed that he had enjoyed the evening as much as I had.
Earlier in the week, one of the children enjoyed a school trip to the seaside. Along with predictable quantities of sand, there was delivered home afterwards more flotsam and jetsam than I would have believed a neophyte beachcomber could even carry. The collection included several blocks of chalk (all now accidentally smashed), a shrubbery of rotting seaweed, some pebbles, a hunk of rust and more than a dozen crabs’ legs. There was besides a sufficient number of shells, whole or broken, to furnish a small grotto. To my great relief, a flint the size of a football was apparently refused passage on the coach home. What would E. E. Cummings have made of it all? JG