Two Days of London News
I have not seen the sun since I got here, and the rain and fog has made of mockery of my "hairstyle," and the balls of my feet hurt from walking on cobble stones in stack heels, but I'm having a wonderful time.
1. Yesterday I went to Westminster Abbey for the full tour and noted a few important items: (a) the place is so crammed full of 1,000 years of monuments, plaques, tombs, and other stone stuff so that you can't turn around or deviate from the beaten path or even see the walls nor can you satnad at one end of the nave and see down to the ends becuase there are numerous alters and mini churches set up in the way; (b) British people were mean to their dead ancestors, and wrote peevish epilogues about some of them such as "Jane attemped in life to maintain a spotless record -- hers was a life of unending struggle" or "Edward was primitively religious."
2. Humorous items on display include the "Practice Regalia" which are the fake coronation things QEII used to practice on ("Don't Drop It!") and her coronation day undergarment which they called the Super Tunica!" I wondered if it was a typo and it should be the Supra Tunica, since it was an undergarment, not an overgarment.
3. The Funniest Thing in Westminster Abbey Award goes to a nicely carved stone in the floor at the foot of a tomb in a little chapel. The stone was carved to read "Way to Vault."
Yesterday night I went to see a play called The Woman in Black. It is a ghost story set on Christmas Eve and it was in a tiny little theater that was like something out of the Hobbit. There were windy staircases that went up much further than you would have thought from looking at the theatre from the outside, there was a bar tucked into the landing of one of the very topmost staircases, the halls and aisles were very narrow, and the audience was practically on top of the stage. We had front row seats on the first level up ("the Dress Circle.") The play was TERRIFYING! The whole audience was absolutely petrified, and several times we screamed forcefully out loud in unison -- raising a holy racket -- and horrified gasps and muffled yelps escaped periodically throughout. The play had only two cast members and no set -- it was pure psychological horror. It was the best play I have ever seen. The theatre was so small that we all felt each other's terror and were as a bonded unit when it was over and we all tumbled out into the street, exhausted.
Before the play I had eaten with my fellow theatre goer at lovely subterranean Italian restuarant somewhere i the theatre district. I am perpetually lost in London -- the streets are not straight and the names change and every time I thought I knew where I was I'd come around a corner and I'd be in Trafalgar Square. I got pretty sick of Trafalgar Square. I know every statute in Trafalgar Square now and I think I have probably approached it (accidently) from every possible direction. George Washington is on the north of Trafalgar Square and I've said hello to him several times now. South Africa House is on another side and I've said hello to the elephants and kudu on its outer stonework several times as well. Admiralty Arch is now the center of my moral compass, though I can see that coming from far enough away that I'e only actually walked through it twice. All this to say, don't ask me where the Italian restaurant was -- I have no idea except that it was somewhere in Covent Garden.
I also spent a good part of yesterday in Waterstones on Piccadilly Street in Piccadilly Circus. Piccadilly Street is a madhouse with holiday makers -- it's like -- a CIRCUS out there! The Waterstones on Piccadilly Street is the biggest bookstore in Europe. That's where I met my fellow theatre goer -- it's huge and hard to miss and you can occupy yourself if the person you're meeting is late.
After the theatre we went pubbing in Clerkenwell, the new chic part of town. It is amazing how easy it is to get beer after 11 p.m. in a town that supposedly can't sell it to you after 11 p.m. We had no troubles at all. We did see some people on the street all dressed up in monkey's outfits. Not sure why.
Today was a totally different kind of day. I started off in a taxi to Liverpool Street Station where I caught a train to Billericay in Essex. In Billericay, a half an hour later, I got off the train and was met by Jim Higgins who is a person we used to know when we lived in Portugal in the 1970s, when I was only 6 years old. The whole Higgins family lives in a town called Stock and I went out there for what turned out to be a 5 hour boozy odyssey of reminiscenes and local Essex lore. They took me to thier local "country club" and we ate what is called a Carvery -- basically a Sunday Buffet. Every kind of meat imaginable was available. We ate and ate and ate and ate. Then we back to the Higgin's house and looked at pictures of Portugal and pictures of their house and ate some more. Then we played with the Higgin's grandchild, and ate some more, and then we got on the phone and called the other Higgins child who lives in Arizona, and we reminisced about Portugal with her, too. Mrs. Higgins told me some things about myself at age 6 that I did not know, in particular that I was the youngest of the kids and I was always getting into trouble because I apparently had the hardest time following the rules. She actually said, "Poor Kim, you were so little and you were always in so much trouble." This came as something of a shock. So I I told Mrs. Higgins she could not be right, and I listed all the terrible things my brother and her two girls had done -- all of which was news to her and so then she was somewhat shocked. Then Claire -- her oldest daughter, came to my rescue and said that really my brother and Claire's sister were the ones who caused all the trouble, and everyone else was always blamed for it no matter what, usually me. Anyway, the whole evening made me sad that we don't live in Portugal anymore, and also sad that I am not six and that the Higgins's are not in their mid-30s anymore. The Higgins took me back to the train station and sent me off from the platform in the rain and dark as if I was a little girl going off to boarding school.
I got back to Liverpool Street Station and took a taxi way across town to West Hampstead where, believe it or not, I ate dinner. A colleague made me dinner and I couldn't refuse on the grounds that I had just eaten every cow in Essex. That would have been rude. West Hampestead and Hampestead Heath are lovely -- I saw Emma Thompson's house, and John Keats's house, etc.
Then the colleague drove me back to my hotel and in the process, took me on a night time tour of London all lit up. It was beautiful. My colleague's favorite monument is Big Ben -- mine is St. Paul's. St. Paul's has real personality. I love it.
Two things to note before I sign off:
1. Liverpool Street Station is wonderful. It is massive, and the taxis drop you off underneath the station right on the platforms. There are 17 platforms, and platform 10 is for taxis. Very nifty. On one side of the tax stand is the train to East Anglia, and on the other side of hte taxi is the train to Essex. You have to be careful not to tumble off the taxi stand onto the rails. From down on the platform level you look up about 10 stories to the wrought iron roof over the trains -- it is magnificent. People enter elsewhere, so the only thinkg down on the taxi stand are you, the trains, and the black English taxis.
2. After viewing the inside of Westminster Abbey I got hoplessly tangled up in the Fire Brigade Strike which was marching from Trafalgar Square (yes!) up Pall Mall to somewhere. The only picture I've taken in London (other than of the Higgins's) was of the Fire Brigade Strike. Huge numbers of mounted police were waiting in every side street and I tried several times to cross the stream of protesting firemen but didn't succeed until I'd been dragged off up Pall Mall somewhere beyond Haymarket Street. Once through, I began a circular, somewhat hopeless trek through Soho and Covent Garden looking for the Seven Dials again (my home). I just happened to find it finally (after several more unwanted visits to Trafalgar Square) because by chance I turned my head and saw the Seven Dials pillar down at the end of a street. To console myself, I went to the Neal Street Dairy and bought myself a package of Montgomery Cheddar Cheese (which is yummy) and a farmer's loaf, and sat on a bench in the rain and ate it all.
It's back to D.C. tomorrow. Sigh.
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