The game's a foot!

Dave humored me by taking me to 221B Baker Street.  A devotee of the British, the Victoria and Albert, and the British Science and Technology Museums (all of which we visited, by the way), he needed convincing that I was serious about wanting to go there.  A museum dedicated to a person who never existed located at a place he never lived for the amusement of readers of Victorian fiction?  Not his cup of tea.  It suited me right down to the ground, though. 

I bought a copy of this print while in the gift shop.  This is how we imagine 221B Baker Street... and, absent the carriages and attire, this is how it looks.

                                       

I don't think this sign is original, however.  (Note Lion L. Messi and Frank Sinatrat on top of the sign; more on these stowaways in a later blog).

After passing through an outer door, a short foyer, and an inner door, I climbed the steps to the "first floor" lair of the great detective.  Oddly, he was not in.  However, Dr. Watson was at home, and was most gracious.

                                  

Watson in his chair.  (Is this a cake job, or what?  The actor portraying Watson gets to sit in a comfy chair in front of a warm fire and meet fascinating people like myself for a living!)  The study is perfect.  I felt like I had stepped into one of A. Conan Doyle's stories.  Here are some more shots of the study.

                                    

A Holmesian homage to Queen Victoria: the intitials V.R. tatooed into the wallpaper. Holmes created them by shooting his pistol one afternoon when he was bored.   The settee is barely discernable beneath, while the dining table peeks in from the left.

                                                    

Holmes' chair and corner desk/laboratory.  His violin is sitting atop a pile of papers and sheet music.  I sat in this chair.  I also wore Holmes' deerstalker hat.  The things you can get away with when the host is not at home.

                         

What passes for a dining room faces the street.  Notice how it is jammed into a corner so that only Holmes and the doctor can dine.  I imagine the room could be reconfigured whenever they entertained guests.  It's amazing when you see the attention to detail the curators have brought to this room.  All the Victorian flourishes and overcrowded rooms, tables and desks thrilled me beyond words.  I was ready to move in.

Holmes' bedroom is off the study on the first floor.  His rogues gallery assures that he goes to sleep with villains he has defeated glowering down on him.  The bedroom is spartan, compared to the opulence of the study.   

Up a flight of steep narrow stairs, and the rooms of Dr. Watson can be seen.  They are a bit less austere but oddly, the curators chose not to set up a bedstead for the good doctor.

Yet another flight of steps and voila! It's like stepping into Madame Toussad's.  There are vignettes of many of Holmes' most famous cases, beautifully done and wonderfully maintained.  Of course, no museum vignette would be complete without the two arch-rivals themselves, Holmes and Moriarty.

Watson, Lady Frances Fairfax, and the great consulting detective himself.

Professor Moriarty.

And, to end, I must tell you that there is, in fact, a bathroom at 221B Baker Street.  You just need to go up 3.5 floors to find it.

No tub.  No shower. LOTS of pans and tubs.  Okay, I take back my previous statement about being ready to move in.  Back down the 3.5 flights, and out the door.

Off to Mrs. Hudson's rooms (now a gift shop) and her fabled kitchen (now a tea-room).

SUCH FUN!