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.