London Day Five

Our traditional English breakfast fortified us for another day of touring. We stopped at Tower Hill, site of innumerable public beheadings, then into the Tower of London for an excellent tour. The guide gave a very entertaining description of all the defenses a hypothetical invader would have to get through to successfully attack the tower. Exceedingly redundant and absolutely effective. Getting out was occasionally easier. The first captive climbed down a rope that had been smuggled in a cask of wine. Another prisoner tied bedsheets together, but they tore, he fell headlong and that was the end of him.
I love walking along the paths and passing Traitors Gate where Queen Elizabeth I entered the Tower. The White Tower, which William the Conqueror built, has an exhibit cleverly named: Henry VIII, Dressed to Kill. It featured several sets of armor custom made for Henry. He was a great athlete. Did you know Henry played "real tennis?" It's a game that looks a lot like squash, with the players facing each other as in modern tennis, but playing the ball off the walls, like squash. They say Henry was playing it at Hampton Court Palace when Anne Boleyn was executed.
Speaking of William "the Conqueror"(1066 and all that): have you had the impression he was a real outsider, kind of like Attila the Hun? Turns out he was King Edward the Confessor's cousin and William claimed Edward offered him the throne. Harold was Edward's brother-in-law and either Edward made two conflicting promises, William exaggerated his claim, or Harold just didn't get the memo. Harold's death at the Battle of Hastings gave William the kingdom and he immediately built the original Tower of London. We call it the White Tower because they used to whitewash it to cover the muck that ran down it from the privies.
Our guide slyly referred to 2012, the year of the London Olympics, several times when talking about possible improvements to the city. For example, the White Tower may be whitewashed again, say, in 2012.
We went to King's Cross station to find a Spanish restaurant, Camino, but arrived 2 minutes after table service ended, so we left in pursuit of a late afternoon meal. We took a double decker bus along Euston Road, watching for likely candidates. Jim spotted the Allsop pub, so we gave it a try. Jim had a wonderful lamb curry and I tried the Suffolk sausage and mash (potatoes) in a Yorkshire pudding. Yorkshire pudding is usually a small, baked, round affair, but this was a square the size of a dinner plate as delicious as the smaller ones. Happily the sausage bore no relation to the breakfast offerings at this hotel, i.e. it was tasty with a good texture. We shared a goat cheese salad, which shows that the pub is firmly in the twenty-first century.
We went into Marylebone Station and discovered another West Cornwall Pasty kiosk, but of course we were full of pub fare. (Note to self: remember Marylebone Station next time you're hungry.) I asked a sweet old gentleman how to say the name of the station. He said you could say it either "mary-le-bone" or "marlee-bone." Not too definitive.
This evening we attended a Viennese concert put on by the Young Musicians Symphony Orchestra at St. John Smith's Square near Westminister Abbey. We felt like we were in Vienna. Listening to the New Year's Day radio broadcast from Vienna is a tradition for us. There was a lovely young soprano, and several waltzes by several Strausses, including Roses from the South and the Emperor Waltz. The encores included the Thunder and Lightning Polka, (someone handed the conductor an umbrella) and ended with the the Radetzky March - a real Viennese crowd pleaser, where the conductor directed us to clap in time to the march.
Afterwards we walked beside Parliment as Big Ben sounded the tenth hour. The Lady Chapel of the Abbey looked impossibly delicate in the lighting. We walked half-way across the Westminster Bridge and again recreated the pixie dust scene from Hook, this time more authetically, since the streetlamps were lit.

London Day Four

On the subject of breakfast, I forgot to mention the beans in ketchup sauce we've had every morning. I've seen them on posters of "traditional English breakfast." Makes me think of The Treasure of the Sierra Madres: "Better eat those beans, boys!" I'll take Boston Baked Beans anyday.
Tuesday morning we took the tube to Waterloo Station. Another funny story from our guide: Churchill was planning his funeral and wanted the procession to go through the Waterloo Station. His advisors carefully pointed out that that wasn't the natural route to take. Yes, maintained Churchill, but De Gaulle would attend the funeral, and he just want to remind him once more of that moment in history.
We met our guide, Richard, at the Waterloo Station. The LED timetable boards are a symphony of efficiency. It would be very inefficient for me to describe, but it was a pleasure (we're easily amused) to watch a train route with all its stops flash up on the board at the far right and march slowly down to the left, receiving a platform assignment along the way.
We took the southwest train to Salisbury, a charming city on a small river. We strolled along the river to the cathedral, which was built consecrated in 1258, just 38 years after it was started. The 404 ft spire, which was added later, is the tallest in the United Kingdom. It is really beautiful. The cathedral has the world's oldest working clock and one of the four original copies of the Magna Carta. Quiz: where have you heard about another copy? Bing! Right here on this blog. So, we had to go look at the Salisbury copy. The docent was tickled, in an understated British way, when I said we'd seen the British Library copy. She talked with us quite a while. (There wasn't a crowd.) She had a photocopy of the British Library copy and pointed out that the Salisbury copy was done in a much more skilled hand. A tourist had once argued with her that it much be computer generated, it's so even. The ink used has iron in it, which actually etches into the parchment over time (written in 1215 AD). She also mentioned that the Licoln Cathedral had let its copy go on tour and hadn't been very careful about it (tut-tut) - a little cathedral rivalry going on there.
We lunched at the cathedral cafe where we looked up at a wonderful view of the spire.
We then took a "private motorcoach" on country lanes to Stonehenge. Passed by Sting's country house (whoever he is). Madonna had a honeymoon there. (I have heard of her.)
I'd read some disappointing reviews on the web about touring Stonehenge, but I was not disappointed. It is a marvel to see and thrilling to walk around. Maybe all of you knew this, but the stones are at least 50% longer than what you see above ground. Our guide has memories of family picnics at the stones. There's a flat stone that made a great picnic table. One doesn't get that close nowadays, but there are sample rocks near the gift shop that you can touch.
On the way back, we saw the hill that was the original site of the fort, the "Sarum." Market day was just ending when we arrived back in Salisbury, but a West Cornwall Pasties shop caught my eye, so we bought a chocolate pasty (I don't think that's a traditional pairing) to eat right away and a lamb and a bacon & cheese for supper at the hotel. They were delicious, and would have been even better hot, but we weren't hungry when we bought them. I had a recipe for Cornish pasties when we were first married, which I remember fondly. These were in a different league. They were light and flaky - a lot like an excellent croissant. (ed. note: on Wednesday we saw another West Cornwall Pasties kiosk at Marylebone Station, but we weren't hungry, again. But now we know we don't have to go all the way to Salisbury for fresh ones.)
Later in the evening, we walked from our hotel, which is just north of Hyde Park, to Park Crescent. My Little Black Book of London (The Quintessential Guide to the Royal Capital) states: "Outside Regent's Park Tube stop is one of the most breathtaking spots of London: Park Crescent--a semicircle of colonnades designed by John Nash." I'm glad we saw it, but it isn't nearly as breathtaking as Westminster Abbey, or Parliment, or the Tower of London. The walk took us through a neighborhood of shops with Arabic signage. London is so cosmopolitan. Much as I love Boston, it really is provincial. We are constantly overhearing and not understanding conversations in other languages here. It's invigorating.

London Day Three

I awoke to Jim's voice, "Mary, breakfast is over in 15 minutes!" We hadn't set an alarm and slept till 9:15 a.m. Breakfast was the same as yesterday: buffet style scramble eggs, sausage, corn flakes (Jim partook), canned fruit cocktail and juices. It strikes us as a "typical" American breakfast from 40 years ago. Except the sausage is different than anything I've eaten, and not in a particularly good way: fluffy, almost, a foam of fat, says Jim. But, breakfast comes with the room and starts our day off with warm tummies. We think we'll skip the sausage tomorrow.
We took a "londonwalks.com" tour of Westminster Abbey. Gillian, the tour guide was great: informative and witty. The Abbey is beautiful. The fan vaulting on the ceiling of the Lady's Chapel is incredible: lacey ribs that look like ladies' ball gowns swirling. Jim bought me a small book, "The Royal Line of Succession." It takes me back to my youth and love of all things historical and royal.
We walked across Westminster Bridge, right next to the Houses of Parliment, complete with a bagpiper. We recreated the scene from Hook when Toodles flies to Neverland at the end of the movie. Well, without the pixie dust.
Then we caught the 148 bus, one of the new double-deckers, and sat up above, of course. I watched for the premium front seats to free up, but they did only one at a time, so we continued to sit together and rode past Victoria Station and the back of Buckingham Palace Gardens, which was all stone wall and barbed wire and trees from the Grosvenor Place side. We skirted the north side of Hyde Park, got off at Notting Hill Gate, and found a Tesco grocery store. It was very centering for me to be in a real grocery store - it puts me in my element. We bought Cornish scones and rhubarb-vanilla yogurt. There were no shopping carriages, only plastic baskets, no parking lot, and no Russian speaking cashiers. (Hi, Sam!) After a few days in a hotel area, it was nice to find a place that sells bread and groceries.
Back outside on the streets, I was puzzling with my map when a friendly man asked if we needed help. He had a book in his hand about a musician's trip through the south and south west (Memphis, Amarillo, Phoenix, etc.) He directed us to Portobello Road. The market is only on Friday and Saturday, but we walked down the road with the haunting tune from "Bedknobs and Broomsticks," in our heads. In 2001 we were there on a market day and bought some British edition Harry Potter books. The facades were brightly colored stucco: pink and blue and yellow. They reminded me of St. Croix colors.
Looking for a place to sit down and eat our scones, I steered us to Pembridge Square, which had a wrought iron fence all around. I asked a passer-by how to get in. It's a private garden, it turns out. She offered to unlock the gate for us, "but how would you get out?" So, we chatted with her. She's Greek and came to Oxford about 25 years ago. She loves Notting Hill, but thinks it has gone to tourists too much and lost some of its charm.
The yogurt was mildly rhubarb, the scones were good, but, oh! for a microwave in our room! I don't know where we would fit it...

London Day Two

Verdi's Requiem was a wonderfully moving experience. When we got tickets, the Barbican was nearly sold out, so we got two seats right up against the stage. We had a great view of the cellists and bassists, the conductor, and the tenor and baritone soloists, but couldn't see the bottom half of the huge chorus on risers behind the orchestra. The sound was glorious. The baritone, Robert Hayward, was especially good. The Guildhall School of Music and Drama supplied the symphony orchestra and chorus.
Sunday morning we walked through Hyde Park and onto Exhibition Road to the LDS Hyde Park congregation. It's a wonderfully cosmopolitan group. They receive so many visitors that they just have the visitors stand briefly en masse, rather than elicit individual introductions. They say it gets really crowded in the summer.
After church, we strolled to the Victoria and Albert Museum. Right on the ground floor is the scuplture exhibit. They have an "Age of Bronze" by Auguste Rodin, which we saw in the Philadelphia Rodin Museum earlier this month, and several Rodin pieces that were new to us.
My favorite piece in the museum was a life-size terracotta sculpture of a seated peasant woman in wooden shoes nursing a baby by Aime-Jules Dalau (1838-1902). I found a photo by searching the V & A museum sculpture collection for "Aime-Jules." Try it! http://www.vam.ac.uk/collections/index.html
On our way back through Hyde Park we stopped at the Diana, Princess of Wales Memorial fountain, which was full of children and adults wading. With a little (a lot?) of imagination, you can see it as a huge necklace made of moving water. It would be more effective as art without all the waders, but it's a pretty idea.
We also paid homage to the Peter Pan statue featured in one of my favorite movies, Hook, with Robin Williams as a grown-up, uptight Peter Pan and Dustin Hoffman as a marvelous James Hook. The statue is actually in the Kensington Gardens, next to the Serpentine. We thought of Lestrade dragging the Serpentine in Sherlock Holmes, but saw only small pleasure boats. And heard a lot of Spanish, presumably of the Continental variety.

London Day One

Virgin Atlantic Flight 12 left Boston Logan Airport at 7:45 p.m. on Friday, 25 September 2009 with Jim and me in seats 60J and 60K. We've taken our empty nest on the road. The flight was just under 7 hours, arriving around 8 a.m. London time. With our Oyster cards in hand(30 pds each for 7 days, unlimited Tube and bus rides), we took the Picadilly Line to the Circle Line and left our luggage at the hotel: Abbey Court near Paddington Station. We stayed here in July 2001 with our six children, then ages 10-20. The room is cozy, with a large sycamore tree outside our huge window.
I purposely didn't bring a camera. Mine's kinda clunky and doesn't take action shots. So, I'll just buy postcards along the way. For you blog followers, you'll have to use your imagination.
We toured King's Cross Station. A sign informed us that they'd moved Platform 9 3/4 due to renovation and directed us to its temporary location. When we visited in 2001, there was no brick wall between Platform 9 and Platform 10, so I wonder if this is a recent addition...It has the end of a luggage trolley bolted to the wall, so it looks like the trolley is entering Platform 9 3/4.
St. Pancras Station has a beautiful "glass-and-iron train shed, which for many years had the largest clear-span in the world." (TimeOut London, 2009 edition) Next to the station is the British Library, not to be confused with the British Museum, which housed the British Library until 1997.
A Parliamentary committee called the 1997 British Library "one of the ugliest buildings in the world" (ibid). Inside it the dimly lit John Ritblat Gallery houses an amazing collection of books and manuscripts, including Handel's hand-written Messiah score, a huge Gutenburg Bible, which was illumined by hand, a teenage journal of Jane Austen, a dictionary that Samuel Johnson created and two of the four existing copies of the Magna Carta. I was especially anxious to see those having heard that a copy of the Magna Carta has travelled to Fraunces Tavern in lower Manhattan. Samuel Johnson is one of Jim's favorites. He's been re-reading his biography by Boswell lately.
We bought some sandwiches and have settled in our rooms, trying desparately not to fall asleep, in order to acclimate quickly to the 5 hour time difference. Tonight it's Verdi's Requiem at the Barbican Centre. Hopefully that will be forte enough to keep us awake.