Frugal literary London: Linking word to place

Linking travel to literature, writes Ian Ousby, brings both innocent pleasure and real enlightenment.

No where in the Western world is this more possible than London, and the pleasure and enlightenment can be had for little or no cost.

So here’s a Frugal London theme day based on literary London, from an early start to an evening literary pub crawl.

Breakfast – A commuter’s grab-and-go from Tesco Express, a neighborhood convenience store down the street from my hotel: banana, yogurt, bran muffin and coffee. First tab of the day: $5.78.

With a topped-up Oyster Card in hand, I took the Underground to Holborn, in the city’s legal district, and home of the British Library. There to visit the Sir John Ritblat Gallery, which houses the library’s print treasures, and is free.

I saw, in rough, chronological order: An installation of artifacts from the literary life of Anthony Trollope, the 19th century novelist. A 1455 bible printed by Gutenberg. The earliest edition of Shakespeare’s plays, known as “The First Folio,” published in 1623, seven years after the playwright’s death. A 1664 map of lower Manhattan, prepared for its new owner, James, the Duke of York, to be renamed in his honor – New York. And, the most current treasure, the hand-printed lyrics of “I want to Hold Your Hand,” the tune that convinced Capital Records to bring the Beatles to the U.S.

The Ritblat is a quiet, barely lit space. Rich wood paneling, deep purple carpet. Most objects displayed under glass. One guard in the main gallery, a seated young person, reading a book.

The gallery’s most-treasured object is one of the four remaining copies of the Magna Carta, the 1215 charter that established such common law rights as habeas corpus. Alas, that copy (and another) were in a nearby gallery celebrating the Magna Carta’s 800th anniversary, along with Thomas Jefferson’s copy of the Declaration of Independence and one of the original copies of the Bill of Rights. Wonderful to see, but at $16, not a frugal experience. So, no go.

Lunch – At Itsu, the latest in “light, green and good for you” chains from the early pioneers of Pret a Manger, the everywhere-in-London shop for freshly made sandwiches, soup, salads and coffee. Ordered the 14 baby sushi rolls made from sashimi-grade Scottish salmon, line-caught tuna and Japanese style rice. Price for lunch: $5.76

Off to Dr. Johnson’s House, one of London’s “shrines for the literary pilgrim,” as Ian Ousby notes in Literary Britain. It is here, in the top-floor garret, that Samuel Johnson and six assistants wrote the first dictionary of the English language.

Today, the house is a museum, with rooms as they were in Johnson’s time in the 18^th century, and the occasional exhibition. (When I was there a few years earlier, the exhibition was “Tea & Coffee in the Age of Dr. Johnson.” Johnson’s appetite for tea was insatiable. He was known to have consumed 25 cups in a single sitting. In an essay on tea, Johnson wrote that tea “amuses the evening … solaces the midnight … welcomes the morning.”)

Admission is $7.

As a souvenir, I bought a 15-cent copy of a prayer Johnson published in 1784: ” … let the residue of my life, whatever it shall be, be passed in true contrition, and diligent obedience.”

I traveled west to Leicester Square and the bookshops of Cecil Court, a picturesque, late Victorian, pedestrian-only, passageway linking Charring Cross Road with St. Martin’s Lane. Here one finds modern first editions, illustrated books and children’s books — as well as vintage maps, coins and jewelry. The shopkeepers are knowledgeable and welcoming, including the owner of Stafford’s Gallery, who sold me a numbered, signed etching “Coranglais” by Spanish painter Manuel J. Estop Zafra for $7.70. Or the clerk in Coin Heritage, who sold me vintage World War I-era postcards for 40-cents each. And the seemingly too-young-to-know owner of London Medal Company, who sold me Roman coins dredged from the Thames for $1.56 each.

Other frugal literary London opportunities if the day permits:

• The Parliamentary Bookshop in Westminster. Run by the House of Commons staff, the store stocks government reports including a free, weekly guide to Parliamentary activities. But its chief interest for visitors are its high-quality, low-cost souvenirs. I bought a pair of bookmarks – facsimiles of London’s famed red telephone boxes fashioned in wood – about $5 each.
• The SouthBank Book Centre, under the Waterloo Bridge, “open everyday weather permitting,” where vendors offer thousands of used books. A better, if more complicated, book experience is on Sunday’s in Hackney, where as many as 15 independent bookstores have organized the Goldsmith Row Book Market, emphasizing new and used books on art, design and photography. The complication is getting there: a Tube ride, a bus and a walk.
• Hatchard’s of Piccadilly, London’s oldest bookstore, now a part of Waterstones. While there are no bargains on the bookshelves, the frugal attractions are the weekly talks by authors, free if you buy the book. Another frugal attraction is the way Hatchard’s interacts with customers. This visit: Hatchard’s “Our Favorite Novels of the Past 200 Years,” a 32-page, nicely annotated catalog with a ballot for your choice. My vote: To Kill a Mockingbird.

Dinner – An early supper at Franco Manca, the organic pizza joint in Brixton (now at 14 other locations) made famous by TimeOut’s “Best Cheap Eats” award for 2008. My order: a sourdough pizza of tomato, mozzarella and basil, a green salad, and a glass of Italian red wine – $19.75

I had to be back in central London in time for “The Literary London Pub Walk” that steps off at 7 p.m. Led by an owner of London Walks – the “first and best” of London’s walking tour companies – we crawl through the lives and haunts of Dickens, Thackeray, Orwell and Eliot, among many others. The price is right: $12.50, plus a few dollars more for a pint of beer.

Asleep by 10 p.m.

Total spent for the day, including admissions, meals, transport and hotel, but excluding the souvenirs: $94.54.