On a very blustery day only a week ago I was in the sand dunes where the Lewis chessmen were found c 1831 - and it didn't seem fair that today not a single piece remains on the island. This afternoon I nipped into the British Museum just before closing time and spent a few minutes marvelling at their quirky characters - and wondering how they came to be buried in the sand. It did make me think how lucky I am to be able to drop in on a whim to see objects like this, completely free of charge. 
On my way into town, I made a detour to see this tiny exhibition of covetable Scottish paintings on Bond Street. I was hoping there might be one of Cadell's Hebridean landscapes, but no. But the lovely painting below has lingered there unsold for over a year ...
4 comments:
Just caught up on your last two posts. Your house on Lewis looks like an amazing place to stay. Reading the posts together, I am struck by the number of people in each. Would love the quiet of Lewis, but there's also something exciting about the buzz of London. I (genuinely) think that the chessmen should go on tour every now and then, back to visit where they come from.
I think I'd be pining for London, Katharine. The chessmen do tour - I noticed yesterday that some were in Japan - and I did read something about plans to lend some to Stornoway. I suppose there's security problems for small museums.
I went to see the Lewis Chessman last year at the British Museum, so different.
I'd seen them before, Janet, and also in Edinburgh - but somehow they caught my imagination more after that walaka aoan the beach.
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