Saturday in London

First, the tube is a nightmare. L Today, two lines were shut down altogether and a third had a long stretch in which no stops were made. Naturally, the area I decided to visit today was the worst hit. Such is my luck, right?

This morning wasn’t so bad, though. I finally made my way to the Barbican District. I once read a joke that said Londoners get lost in the maze of the Barbican, resurfacing only after years of foraging for food and thinking that Margaret Thatcher is still Prime Minister. This first led me to think that this was a literal labyrinth (in true London fashion), but it was instead a complex of apartment buildings built in the 70s connected by a series (maze?) of raised walkways that circumvent a pond built in the center. At first, it looks like a simple cube. As I entered from London Wall Street (as one would suspect, the former site of the Roman wall surrounding Londinium), I had no Idea that I would turn right so many times and only find myself in the center. Frustrating? Perhaps. I did, however, find some remnants of said wall. It was a nice little experience. I also found the performance hall, where the LSO plays. Nobody would have guessed that it was a performance hall. 70s architecture seems to mask function rather well.

When 10am finally rolled around (I woke up obscenely early), I made my way to the City of London Museum, which, like the tube and a few other museums around town, was partially closed. The open exhibitions only went up to the Great Fire, which is about where my interests first start. Sad and disappointing.

Shortly thereafter, I went to the Globe Theatre. Even though it was built in 1997 and 150 meters away from the original location, it was still cool. They were rehearsing the end of Macbeth, so no pictures were allowed (bummer.) I guess it just wasn’t the proper time or place for tourism.

I then hopped on the tube in Southwark towards South Kensington (again) to see the Natural History Museum. The queue was long…out the doors and spilling onto the street. After about 20 minutes of waiting to get in, I realized that the place was beyond capacity with children screaming and running amok. 30 minutes was beyond enough for me to give up and leave. I then walked over to the Royal Albert Hall, Royal College of Music, and Hyde Park (the original one.) I walked up to Kensington Palace, realized it was another astronomical fee to see a place of celebrity (plus, it was closing), and walked on. Hyde Park was a beautiful example of English grass, the green of envy to most of North America. On top of that grass, I saw a swan chase after a little girl (don’t feed the swans, they will ask for more.) Then began my quest to return to the city center. The tube station directly next to the park was closed, complete with metropolitan police standing firm, not offering advice as to alternative transportation. I waited for a bus, but even the bus stops were closed. Even if they were open, they were too full to sit comfortably. I walked down a street (which was surprisingly well organized – obviously a city planning product of the 19^th century), eventually finding a District Line station, but it only went in one direction, which was the direction I didn’t need to go. Out of exasperation (and hunger) I walked into a curry restaurant in the near vicinity, much to my stomach’s dismay. It tasted OK and was reasonably priced, so at first I was content. I then proceeded to take three trains in the place of one, only to get to my hostel and feel my stomach churning. I stopped at a grocery store to get some water, drank it and sucked it up to go over to the Tate Modern (which is open late on Saturdays). Midway through the surrealist gallery (and after seeing a quite disgusting film involving mutilated bodies and bar-b-que sauce), I just had to go to bed. And now I’m awake at 1am after the brief stomach storm.

Tomorrow is my last day and is lightly scheduled. I’ll see what I can find.

Still here...

Today was the day of standing and walking. Not that I stood or walked any more than I have already done on my trip, but by midday, my dogs were barking, and every subsequent moment of standing and/or walking was a feat of superhuman endurance. So superhuman I am.

I started the morning at the Tower of London. For all of the hype it has created over the years, it is sadly small and rather disappointing. I think most of my disappointment came from the fact that half of it was closed “for maintenance,” and thus so without a ticket concession. But in all, the historical aura was everything I had hoped for. Standing on the ground into which the blood of Anne Boleyn spilled was absolutely spine-tingling. Meandering through the former living quarters of the medieval King of England was exhilarating. St. James Tower was half ruins, half restored, and I feel that the ruined portion was much more exciting. Seeing the years of decay, layers of remodeling, and years of use helped me to appreciate its temporal significance, as opposed to the section that was refurbished to one specific point in time. Of course, it is always nice to see landmarks in real life, however humbling (read “smaller than you thought”) they actually are, such as the White Tower, Bloody Tower, and Traitor’s Gate, is quite fun.

Afterward, I hopped on the Docklands Light Rail towards Greenwich. Moving away from Central London helped me to realize that London is in fact, like many other cities, a place in which people actually live. Greenwich could be considered a suburb if you want, because most of the houses are single-family and low-rise, even though they continue to be smooshed together. The National Maritime Museum is huge. I had no desire to enter, so I passed around it for the Royal Observatory and home to the Greenwich Meridian monument/memorial/statue. Such things as that really remind me how arbitrary so many of the things we hold standard actually are. For example, the “standardization” of time was not passed down by some heavenly decree or scientific discovery; instead, it was just some line that was placed to keep ships from getting lost. It also put into focus the motivation for scientific discovery back in the day – not for “pure science” to discover how the world works, but with economic motives. The great scientists of the Enlightenment didn’t sit in their labs thinking about microbes and the stars for fun. They did it so the king could maintain a healthy and pacified tax base and collect more tariffs from shipped goods. Fascinating.

I then went to the London Transport Museum, which just fascinated me. It would have been perfect had I not entered simultaneously with a family of Frenchies. The parents were oblivious to their hooligan children, ran over my feet with their stroller, and screamed at me to get out of the way when the woman forgot her purse (complete with evil glares.) I really do not wish to exaggerate stereotypes, but my experiences with the French have been nothing less of reinforcing of the arrogant and overbearing French. No wonder half of the world thinks lowly of them. Anyway, the museum was a fascinating overview of how people move, particularly since 1800. It really addressed the social, economic, and political influences behind the subways in an entertaining, engaging, and pedagogically effective way. A+.

I think meandered into Kensington. If I thought Mayfair was decadent and elaborate (excessive?) it was only because I had not been to Kensington and the area directly below Hyde Park. This is home to Harrods, the most ridiculous store I have ever encountered, and the posh of the British Isles. If Westminster is old money and refined nobility, Kensington is the nuveau riche and the exorbitant bourgeoisie. Everything was large, new, and in-your-face. Not really my scene. I’ll go back to Holborn.

The Victoria and Albert Museum fit well into Kensington. It’s a museum of decorative goods. It had large collections of dining ware, fashion, and religious paraphernalia from so many eras and places. Too much to see, especially when my feet hurt, the museum was crowded with 20-somethings and 30-somethings who wanted to be 20-somethings drinking wine and feeling all cultured looking at a chest of drawers from rococo England or a harpsichord that Handel may or may not have performed on. I sat down in the courtyard and ate the chocolates (6 pounds/100 grams) from Harrods.

Afterward, around 8:30, naptime called. Will I ever make it to the hours expected of me? We’ll see, but probably not.

Day Three on the Thames

London, Day 3

I woke up late today. It was almost 10am before I got out and about. When I finally was dressed and was ready to go, I meandered down Holborn Street, crossed over the Holborn Viaduct (which used to go over the Fleet River, which has since been buried in favor for more developable land for the City), and found the part of London which made me melt inside.

If there were any reservations about my chances for living in London, they quickly dissipated as I walked down the streets of the Borough of Holborn. This area looks like a picture out of the Victorian Era. The narrow and tall houses made me yearn for yesteryear of decadently decorated décor and the smell of coal being burnt to warm the flat. While meandering, I found the Charles Dickens Museum, the home (however briefly) of said author, where Nicholas Nickelby and Oliver Twist were penned. The glimpse into the flat of a middle-class household was quite enlightening. Each of the 5 levels is very small, only big enough for 2 rooms and the very small staircase. At that, the rooms were miniscule compared to what we have now. Literally, the rooms were large enough for a bed, a sitting chair, and the fireplace. No space on any floor for the bathroom was made, because indoor plumbing was still a dream of the future. I would have pulled out my pocketbook, had I not been discouraged by the voice of reason.

When I had had my fill of the Victorian lifestyle, I walked, and walked, and walked. I found Covent Garden, took a look at the Royal Opera, and walked some more. Eventually, I found the British Museum. I went in to be greeted by hordes of school children and tourists of a far-eastern variety making lewd poses with the Greek statues. The collection was stunning and impressive. Out of the entire holdings, one (yes, one) room (and a small one at that) housed objects that were actually British. Most everything else was the loot from years of imperial plunder. Funny that it now stands in a museum free to everybody and considered “the world’s museum.”

After exposing myself to artifacts from the world’s history, I partook in one of today’s favorite pastimes: window shopping. The space between Oxford Circus and Piccadilly Circus has some of London’s best shopping. Liberty’s Department Store, Trocadero, Hamley’s, and a slew of chain stores (including Europe’s finest name brands found only in Department Stores – and the San Marcos Outlets).

As I was walking, I had a craving for Pizza, so I decided to try Pizza Express, which, contrary to what one would expect from the name, was really a nice place. Service was pretty bad (somehow the waiter forgot to bring out my Coke and brought out the appetizer with the main course), so I felt no guilt in taking part in the grand European tradition of not leaving a tip, or at least nothing Americans would consider a tip. The total was 8.50 GBP, so I left 9 pounds cash and walked out. Glorious.

It was 7:30 and I was really tired of walking, so I decided to go to the Theatre. I consulted one of the ticket outlets in Piccadilly circus and decided upon “The Lady in Black.” It was wonderful. The theatre was incredibly small (imagine McCullough Theatre at UT, divide it into thirds and stack them), but the performance was spectacular. Well worth my 20 GBP student concession ticket (which, by the way, put me in row D smack in the center.) If I find myself with some more time at 8pm tomorrow night, I may find another show. The west end theatres give many options.

Tomorrow, I’m finally going to go to the Tower of London, if I don’t sleep in too late.

Day Two in London Town

I began the morning with a rather large breakfast for only 4.50 GBP, which, even considering the exchange rate, isn’t a bad deal. A fellow traveler from Australia came and sat down opposite me and began some conversation. First we talked about the peculiarities of the British (of course, compared to members of the former British Empire), in which we decided that Brits were cold, inconsiderate, and rather pompous (because we all know that the rest of the world is completely different.) I do believe, however, that much of London still seems to live in its empirical glory days. Just the fact that it retains a monarch and flies both the South African Flag and the Union Jack along the parade street towards Buckingham Palace and many of its monuments pay homage to those who served in India, Africa, Australia, and North America makes this seem more real than it probably is.

The conversation sort of ended when I asked how long he had been in London. He replied with “oh, a few weeks.” At first I was intrigued, but then he elaborated that he chose to travel through Europe for a year after his last year in high school. Then he told me that he financed his trip through hitchhiking and peddling. Given that begging in London is against the law, I asked how he managed to do it – He looks out for cops. Since the police carry no guns, he just gets up and leaves when they approach. His words upon my asking what he would do if he were arrested – “be excited! Free room!” I then got up to go to the Hunterian Museum.

I walked along Queen Victoria/Ludgate/Fleet/Strand street, complete with lavish West-End Theatres and the British Court of Justice. When I arrived at the building, it was like seeing Old London, except for the fact that the entire area was bombed out during the Blitz. The Hunterian Museum is on the Second Floor of the College of Surgeons. The monitor on the “ground” floor had a Midwest-USA accent. I would have continued the conversation further if I had been allowed to utter more than “museum” before being shuffled off. The Hunterian doesn’t allow cameras, which is a shame considering the morbid subject matter housed within. I enjoyed the preserved hearts, mastectomized breasts, and dissected circulatory systems and really hoped that you would, too.

Nonetheless, it was a quick exhibit. I then made my way to Trafalgar Square and the National Gallery, where I feasted my eyes upon works of van Gough, van Eyck, and van der Weyden. Artists such has Monet, Manet, Calliebotte, Degas, and many “unknowns.” The gallery didn’t allow photos, so google images will have to suffice for you.

When done filing through groups of Frenchmen awed by the work of their nationals and old people saying “this was smaller last time I was here” in reference to a painting, I hopped on the tube towards Canary Wharf, the former docklands of the East and West India Companies (of Tea Party fame.) The “wasteland” is now home to London’s most “modern” district, in fact it reminds me much of downtown Dallas. Tall buildings stand on every side, all of which are connected by an underground pedestrian walkway of shops and restaurants. It really was an out-of-location experience. When I found myself bored of glassy skyscrapers and the smell of stagnant water, I hopped back on the underground and found myself in Whitechapel.

As I left the station, I was assailed by the sounds of squealing music and the smell of curry. So THIS is where I’m supposed to go for my curry. The streets reminded me of New York’s Chinatown, only it was now London’s Indiatown. The sidewalks were lined with tent vendors selling 5 GBP pants and Bollywood DVDs. The stores were anything from western union money transfers (to the Indian subcontinent for only 2 GBP) and very ethnically-indigenous attire (and, of course, a Burger King.) This used to be the east of the east end, the slums of the slums, home of Jack the Ripper and medieval witch burnings. The street (whatever it was called at whatever point in time) led into The City’s high-rise developments, including the soon-to-be-former tallest building in London, the up-and-coming tallest building in London and the peculiarly pickle-shaped building, the Gherkin. It was fascinating.

Shortly thereafter, I got lost (no surprise.) After some meandering, I found myself at Leadenhall Market, which, as it sounds, used to be a big shopping district (which was really a farmer and butcher’s market.) It seemed cool and such, until I saw a Subway, at which point I walked around a bit more until I was magically back at St. Paul’s Cathedral. I realized that my jetlag was not quite cured, so I went and fell asleep. Snooze.

Day One - Londinium

So, first day in London.

I got off of the plane at London Heathrow at 7:40 pm. Customs was a breeze, but I think there were many racial and/or nationality issues that influenced that brevity. I had prepared to document my travels up to when I check into my dorm in Wuerzburg, but the question was never asked of me. Now, the people who were in front of me? Totally different story. Their bags were taken and “randomly” inspected, they had to prove financial independence, and their visa required a supervisor’s approval. Granted, the US has good relations with UK’s customs and immigration in that we don’t need to apply for a visa beforehand. I guess that could have played a role as well.

I walked for what seemed to be an eternity of walking, I finally found the London Underground station, Piccadilly line into Central London. One of the plagues of London is its underground system; much like many other benchmarks of the modern world, London has had the misfortune of being first. The trains are surprisingly small. I’m 6’2-ish, and I could not have laid down end to end of the narrow end of the train. Needless to say, as the train progressed into the city, the problem got worse and worse. Of course, it didn’t help that some middle-aged man reading the Metro, a free newspaper, was obstinate in his very unaccommodating stance in the middle of the doorway.

When I finally got out of the Tube at Mansion House Station, I got lost. I was an idiot and forgot to print out my rather detailed itinerary with turn-by-turn directions, so I relied on my memory from Google Maps. I made a few wrong turns, wound up next to the London Stock Exchange (the wrong side of St. Paul’s Cathedral), and was saved only by the grace of London’s “Go This Way” signs pointing to attractions and districts instead of streets (which, by the way, change names every few blocks.)

Eventually I found the very narrow street adjacent to my hostel (see picture.) I walked past the entrance once and had to turn around to find it again. This turned out to be the story of my day – getting lost and turning around.

After I threw my stuff into a locker, I went off to explore the touristy-stuff to get it out of my system. Naturally, this means that I went straight to Westminster. The thought that imbues my day is London and its history. The Westminster is the one of the richest areas of London, in both cultural, historical, and economic assets. It is home to Westminster Abbey, Westminster Palace (where the Houses of Parliament assemble), and just some really cool-looking streets. Among these incredibly wealthy areas is Mayfair. It reminds me of Amsterdam.

Afterward, I saw Buckingham Palace, St. James Place, and took a walk along the south bank. About halfway across Westminster Bridge, I realized that I had slept about 45 minutes in the last 36 or so hours. A wave of narcolepsy came over me, so I went to my hostel (at 1:30 in the afternoon) and went to sleep. I slept until about 6pm, at which time I was hungry. I noticed a lot of restaurants on the South Bank, so I made my way across the Millennium Bridge and restarted my walk. I found a pub with a reasonably-priced menu, went in, ordered a beer and a meat pie (hopefully not of the Sweeney Todd variety…). The pie was delicious, the beer, not so much. I guess there was a reason it was the evening’s special – nobody would buy it otherwise.

After a rousing observation of crowds (and noticing that all of the cigarette cartons had stickers that said “US Duty Paid” and “Smoking Kills”), I walked a bit more. I meandered across the re-built London Bridge, peeked down into the Tower of London’s Traitor’s Gate, and spent an entirely too long time trying to find my way back to the hostel (because it was dark outside – my circadian rhythm told me it was time to sleep, even though I had awoken from a 4 hour nap a mere 3 hours earlier.) I got lost, found myself at the Guild Hall, meandered a bit more and discovered St. Paul’s Cathedral as I crawled about the winding medieval streets. My hostel doesn’t have internet connection (or at least not free), so I have to bum it off of the ubiquitous American food chains, which do offer free internet: Starbuck’s and McDonald’s.

I’ll write more about my adventures at the National Portrait Gallery and whatever else I find tomorrow.

Fliegen, fliegt, flog, ist geflogen

So today

I fly away.

My money is electronic.

I'll fly over something teutonic.

I'll drink some ale,

Hopefully without the threat of bail.

I'm really excited

that the international office has me already invited

to a party

full of Wuerzburg hearty

fun and wine.

I hope I have a good time.

To Go, Goes, Went, Have Gone

Achtung! Sie Verlassen Jetzt den Amerikanen Sektor!

Excuse my Cold War humor.

Tomorrow I leave the United States for the next 5 or 6 months of my life. So much to do. On Friday, I moved out of my apartment in a very quick fashion, attended a going-away party, and slept on a friend's floor. On Saturday, I said my farewells to all of those little things in Austin that make Austin Austin, such as MoPac and those annoying speed bumps on Duval. I then drove for hours and hours to get back to Pampa, my hometown.

Today, I move everything out of my car and put it somewhere on the home property, except for my checked suitcase, carry-on, and backpack. I will attempt to put my family on Skype, because phone calls are expensive.

I have my passport ready and tomorrow afternoon, I'll hop onto a plane and say "Auf Wiedersehen" to the USA. My Jacksons, Grants, and Franklins will become useless and must trade them in for the Queen and an array of architectural styles. I'll need to use an adapter to plug in my computer, and will pray for some internet connection in cafes or other public places. Since I probably won't update anything for lack of time and sure internet connection, I'll give you a little of my schedule:

7am - Heathrow and customs. yay. I'm super excited about the Tube. I'm a super nerd who has spent way too much of his life playing SimCity, so the opportunity to explore the oldest mass-transit system in the world. Nerdy.

I'm staying at Hostel in the city center. I'm sure it's not a 5-star hotel, but a bed is a bed.

Throughout the day - Walking around, including the Houses of Parliament, the Globe Theatre, and other exciting things in Westminster. I'm sure I will want to fall asleep around 5pm, if I make it that far (the equivalent to being awake for 24 hours.)

Anyway, so I'm excited and I'll write a bit later.

Bis bald!

T-minus 10 days

So, I'm about to enter the single-digit numbers before I fly off. My last week will probably be the most difficult - not because I have so much to do, but because it will be a series of lasts. I will have my last dinner at Chilis, my last American Dr. Pepper, my last drive down MoPac (will I miss that too much?), and most sad of all, the last time I see many of my friends.

Sure I'm not running away indefinitely, but many of the people with whom I have forged relationships will have graduated by the time I return, never again to be seen by me. Dramatic, I know. I'm sure our paths will cross again, and probably much sooner than I anticipate. It's a sad thing that I'm just uprooting and creating a void.

Besides the emotional tuggings of this last week, I'm having fun tying up loose ends. I set my forwarding address at the post office, I told the bank that I'll be using my cards abroad, I've told the City of Austin that I don't want their electricity after the 19th.

Now, what to do with all of my junk. I've managed to move things in waves, first at Thanksgiving, then at Christmas, but now I have the remnants and my apartment looks lifeless and sad. (Does anybody want a large desk?) This week, I have to make the last pushes to remove all of my things. What doesn't fit inside my 2-door coupe will just have to stay behind.