After a weekend touring Bath and hanging out in London (walked through Harrod's 5 gleaming stories of stuff, stuff, stuff), we took an early train to Penzance on Monday. Unholy crush of people all over the rail and subway stations. London at 8:30 am is a bit scary. I barely made it through the turnstile, drowning in my luggage, alive.
Penzance is a salty, touristy little coast town nearly at the farthest tip of England, which only whetted my appetite for more of Cornwall. At last I have set foot on the ground of one of my favorite storytellers, Daphne Du Maurier. I attempted to explore the land by taking a brambly foot path inland, but it dead-ended about thirty feet in, so I had to be satisfied with walking the Promenade at night (they make a big deal of it here, although it' s just a wide side-walk, i guess rare in these tiny coast towns of narrow winding streets). I can see how D.D. drew rich material for her stories from Cornwall. It's a place that beckons the imagination. Gorgeous at night - globes of light from the town twinkling on the hillside, huddling together against sea and sky. The lights taper into a stretch of land that slips into endless sea. I realized how much I miss the beach when we got to Penzance, but it's a very different feel from California beaches. Rough and remote - you really feel like you're at the edge of the world.
Left Penzance yesterday morning after chatting with one of our hostesses, Helen (Glencree House is run by two tall Welsh ladies who traveled the world in younger days and played on rugby teams along the way to make ends meet), and took all day travelling to the Cotswolds. Blooody cold here but we're staying in Moreton-in-Marsh, near Shakespeare's home. Staying in a cozy place called Warwick House, run by an eccentric old English man named Charlie Grant who's little boy Tim was excited to be able to unlock our room for us and jump on the beds while his father showed us around. We went to a town pub called The Black Bear last night - wood floors and stone walls just like I would have imagined. Very Tolkienesque - they say he drew alot of inspiration from the Cotwolds. Charlie told us this morning that we should go down to the annual Women's Institution bake-off (or something like that). Because of strict food regulations, Moreton is one of the only places that still does "WI" food festivals (I can't remember what he called them). "You've got all these dears who churn up loads and loads of stuff for it," he said, "and people storm off the trains to queue up for it. You can't miss it." We did miss it, so that we could come down to this little library and get in some precious internet time. But it's getting to be time for some tea; my fingers are freezing even as I frantically type away here. Tea and crumpets, tea and crumpets. I'm getting to really be attached to teatime here. We're going to explore some of the little villages around here. When they have names like Chipping Camden and Stow-on-the-Wold, how can you pass them by?
Thursday, September 27, 2007
On the Move
One of my favorite things so far about England is the fact that there are flowers everywhere here. I'm not a huge flower person (I don't grow them or anything), but the truth is, they make all the difference to the aesthetics of things here. Everywhere you go, there are lovel
y hanging flower baskets in front of restaurants and shops, lining the streets, and so on. In Bath, for example, the buildings are all made of limestone and this is interesting, since no other town in England (or maybe anywhere) can boast such a thing. But many of the buildings would be bland despite their limestone exterior if it weren't for the lovely flower baskets garnishing them. Flowers do lend a certain charm to a place, and they might be the sole reason why every village and town in England can be called quaint and charming without these words losing their meaning.
On another note, I think we've figured out why the cost of London is sky-high. I found out from my dad the other day that London is currently (and often is) at the top of the list for the most expensive cities in the world. We noticed right away (after our first cup of Starbucks tea) that there are practically no trash bins anywhere in this enormous city. A city filled with 9 million people and no need for trash bins? But the thing is, the city is amazingly clean. You see very little trash on the streets here. Oxford, a much smaller city, has trash bins on every street corner, yet you see trash all over the place. Why the difference? Well, in London, there are people whose sole job is to w
alk around the streets, the train stations, or whatever area they are assigned to, holding large trashbags and picking up garbage wherever they see it. You are actually advised by official-looking people to leave your trash in the corners of buildings or stations, and these streetcleaners will come by in just a few minutes time to promptly remove your garbage. (It's very hard to leave your garbage somewhere besides a trash can if you come from a place where you will be fined for doing exactly that.) I suspect that London prices are outrageous because the streetcleaners here are overpaid (either that, or there are so many of them needed to clean up after 9 million people that the costs to employ them are simply astronomical). If the people of London could somehow be taught to throw away their own trash, perhaps the cost of living could decrease to a reasonable living standard, say that of New York City or even San Diego. Maybe there would no longer even be a need to charge tourists for sitting in those chairs in the parks. . .
On Monday, Anna and I finally took our leave of London (after 11 wonderful days). Although we are ready to move on, it was hard to leave London. It's great to stay in one place long enough to find some familiarity with it. We found certain comfortable areas that we would come back to when we needed a break. I think our delight with London has also been fostered by An
na's cousins, Liz and Michael, who have been such gracious hosts to us. They've included us in their activities with family and friends on more than one occasion, and this has given us a glimpse of what it might be like to live here in London (a fun thought!). We did finally leave though, and headed down to the far reaches of England to the town of Penzance. After hearing our plans, a British guy we met last week recommended that we go to Scotland instead of Penzance, but after arriving, we feel sure he was mistaken. The town is small and somewhat touristy, but the coastline is rugged and breathtaking. Lovely countryside all along the train ride there, too. Penzance is definitely worth a visit; much different than everything else we've seen here. Yesterday we headed up to the Cotswolds, and there is a dramatically different feel here, too. I've heard that this is a favorite area for many people, and from the little I've seen so far, it might be the same for me. The Cotswolds are considered the heart of England, and you can feel it immediately when you arrive. It's as if you've stepped back in time; you can imagine old England thriving in exactly the same way. The loveliness of this land is peaceful and inviting, and what I most want to do here is to sit in a cozy room with a roaring fire, drinking a hot cup of tea. Maybe we'll do this tonight. . .
y hanging flower baskets in front of restaurants and shops, lining the streets, and so on. In Bath, for example, the buildings are all made of limestone and this is interesting, since no other town in England (or maybe anywhere) can boast such a thing. But many of the buildings would be bland despite their limestone exterior if it weren't for the lovely flower baskets garnishing them. Flowers do lend a certain charm to a place, and they might be the sole reason why every village and town in England can be called quaint and charming without these words losing their meaning.On another note, I think we've figured out why the cost of London is sky-high. I found out from my dad the other day that London is currently (and often is) at the top of the list for the most expensive cities in the world. We noticed right away (after our first cup of Starbucks tea) that there are practically no trash bins anywhere in this enormous city. A city filled with 9 million people and no need for trash bins? But the thing is, the city is amazingly clean. You see very little trash on the streets here. Oxford, a much smaller city, has trash bins on every street corner, yet you see trash all over the place. Why the difference? Well, in London, there are people whose sole job is to w
alk around the streets, the train stations, or whatever area they are assigned to, holding large trashbags and picking up garbage wherever they see it. You are actually advised by official-looking people to leave your trash in the corners of buildings or stations, and these streetcleaners will come by in just a few minutes time to promptly remove your garbage. (It's very hard to leave your garbage somewhere besides a trash can if you come from a place where you will be fined for doing exactly that.) I suspect that London prices are outrageous because the streetcleaners here are overpaid (either that, or there are so many of them needed to clean up after 9 million people that the costs to employ them are simply astronomical). If the people of London could somehow be taught to throw away their own trash, perhaps the cost of living could decrease to a reasonable living standard, say that of New York City or even San Diego. Maybe there would no longer even be a need to charge tourists for sitting in those chairs in the parks. . .On Monday, Anna and I finally took our leave of London (after 11 wonderful days). Although we are ready to move on, it was hard to leave London. It's great to stay in one place long enough to find some familiarity with it. We found certain comfortable areas that we would come back to when we needed a break. I think our delight with London has also been fostered by An
na's cousins, Liz and Michael, who have been such gracious hosts to us. They've included us in their activities with family and friends on more than one occasion, and this has given us a glimpse of what it might be like to live here in London (a fun thought!). We did finally leave though, and headed down to the far reaches of England to the town of Penzance. After hearing our plans, a British guy we met last week recommended that we go to Scotland instead of Penzance, but after arriving, we feel sure he was mistaken. The town is small and somewhat touristy, but the coastline is rugged and breathtaking. Lovely countryside all along the train ride there, too. Penzance is definitely worth a visit; much different than everything else we've seen here. Yesterday we headed up to the Cotswolds, and there is a dramatically different feel here, too. I've heard that this is a favorite area for many people, and from the little I've seen so far, it might be the same for me. The Cotswolds are considered the heart of England, and you can feel it immediately when you arrive. It's as if you've stepped back in time; you can imagine old England thriving in exactly the same way. The loveliness of this land is peaceful and inviting, and what I most want to do here is to sit in a cozy room with a roaring fire, drinking a hot cup of tea. Maybe we'll do this tonight. . .
Friday, September 21, 2007
Well, we've been here a week and i think i only have about five minutes of time left on this computer (the L key keeps sticking, too) so hopefully MJ is doing a better job of the details, but it's been quite a time of it here. So far, I love Oxford. We had lunch at the Eagle and Child where Tolkien and Lewis used to go, and sat in the very same room. thrill. It's a city that seeps with antiquity - the roads are cobbled, the buildings of yellowed stones, often smothered in climbing ivy. It was cold and grey, weather that seemed fitting for a place of books. We went into Blackwell's, apparently one of the largest bookstores in the world, where I bought My Cousin Rachel by Daphne Du Maurier so that I can get in the mood before we go to Penzance on Monday - she places all her stories in Cornwall.
Oh, how can I forget. We saw The Merchant of Venice at the Old Globe. We got yard tickets bc the girl said they give the best view, which was true. The gem of the production was John McEnery as Shylock but the whole thing was fun. The Globe is on the South Bank, which is loaded with neat old waterfront builings converted into restaurants and such. One of my favorite things so far is walking along the Thames at night, with St Paul's and Big Ben lit up and light dancing on the water.
Canterbury was another day this past week- the Cathedral was cool but I actually more enjoyed St Augustine's Abby, which the saint founded. It's now just stone ruins, having been dismanted by Henry VIII, but we had these little audio tour phones which brought to life what a place it must have been. The monks were turned out with five pounds each by the king, and ony 200 of 2000 volumes survived.
It's been great to be able to hang out with Liz and Michael too. We had dinner on Wednesday with them and Franz at their flat. This time Michael played Tijuana Brass on the stereo the whole time and kept asking us, "Do you hear the pathos?"
Tomorrow we go to Bath and Monday we take off to tour the rest of England, starting with Cornwall. It will be nice to have a quieter break - the city's been great but tiring to be constantly on the go. Glad we're mixing it up a bit.
Oh, how can I forget. We saw The Merchant of Venice at the Old Globe. We got yard tickets bc the girl said they give the best view, which was true. The gem of the production was John McEnery as Shylock but the whole thing was fun. The Globe is on the South Bank, which is loaded with neat old waterfront builings converted into restaurants and such. One of my favorite things so far is walking along the Thames at night, with St Paul's and Big Ben lit up and light dancing on the water.
Canterbury was another day this past week- the Cathedral was cool but I actually more enjoyed St Augustine's Abby, which the saint founded. It's now just stone ruins, having been dismanted by Henry VIII, but we had these little audio tour phones which brought to life what a place it must have been. The monks were turned out with five pounds each by the king, and ony 200 of 2000 volumes survived.
It's been great to be able to hang out with Liz and Michael too. We had dinner on Wednesday with them and Franz at their flat. This time Michael played Tijuana Brass on the stereo the whole time and kept asking us, "Do you hear the pathos?"
Tomorrow we go to Bath and Monday we take off to tour the rest of England, starting with Cornwall. It will be nice to have a quieter break - the city's been great but tiring to be constantly on the go. Glad we're mixing it up a bit.
Given our extremely busy time here in London so far, we've had trouble setting aside the time to actually blog about our adventures. I mean, when you have the chance to sit in quaint little English pubs listening to really bad Sting songs over and over, or taking 20 minutes to cross from one side of the street to the other because British city engineers have constructed crosswalks not longer than two feet that connect to purposeless pieces of concrete located in the middle of the street, you can certainly understand why internet cafes are not our first choice of entertainment. Who knew that crossing streets could be such an adventure? In London, it doesn't appear to be possible anywhere to cross the s
treet in a straight line - instead, you walk a few feet into a street onto an island of concrete. Rather than continue ahead in the same fashion, you then walk the length of the concrete and cross from there. An iron fence surrounds all other parts of the slab of concrete, lest you decide to cross where you should not. In particularly busy areas, you repeat this same exercise about fifteen times before you get to the other side of the street you are trying to reach. Distances here look deceptively close - surely you can make it to that pub across the street before it closes at midnight; after all, it's only 10:00pm right now. After looking at all of the crosswalks that you must pass through before reaching that pub, you are smart to just turn around and head home.
When we have actually chanced to reach a pub in time to eat, we've noticed an oddity that seems to be typical everywhere. From the outside, you see a traditional-looking English pub, complete with dark, rich wood, lovely hanging flower baskets, and a distinct looking coat-of-ar
ms painted on a sign. Walking inside, you expect the atmosphere indoors to be much the same. And of course, it is. . .with one blaring exception. The music of choice almost everywhere is American pop music, and this holds true particularly for pubs. It's a comical absurdity - does it not strike any of the people working here that there is somewhat of an incongruity between hundreds of years of tradition and bad Sting songs on repeat? (This did happen to us in Canterbury - can't remember the song title but it played the entire time we were there!) I suppose there is something that must be said about living in the times we are in and realizing that people are trying to make a living here just like anywhere else, but somehow, it does seem like something is being lost. . .
Besides spending our time in pubs and crossing streets, Anna and I really are having a fabulous time. We walked through the National Gallery here in London just before taking high tea at The Orangery at K
ensington Palace (The Queen mum is not in town just now, or I'm sure we could have arranged for tea with her - isn't that like the papal audience?). I was fairly impressed by the collection at the National Gallery; they have some very famous pieces of artwork housed there. I thought we were going to have to wait for the Louvre for that sort of thing. Unfortunately, I was not quite as impressed with the high tea. This is an instance of being unfairly spoiled by the American version - I was taken to tea for my birthday two years ago by two lovely friends, and I have to say, you get a lot more food and tea in America than you do here. However, sitting outside on a cool blustery day in London, drinking hot tea and looking out over Kensington Gardens really makes up for a lack of food. . . We saw "The Merchant of Venice" on Tuesday during the day - what an amazing thing! It's the perfect thing to do in London; I really felt like I was there during Shakespeare's day. We stood in the yard area (basically cheap seats because you're n
ot sitting), and it is probably the best place to be. You're right there next to the stage; you can reach out and touch the actors. There is so much energy and excitement in a live performance, and even a person who isn't much of a Shakespeare fan (thank you, public school education) can truly enjoy the experience. Recommended to everyone who comes to London. Canterbury was a lovely old town we visited on Wednesday, the Cathedral is a very powerful place to visit. I think we both liked Oxford better, however. It felt less touristy and much more like a place where people actually lived. Everywhere we turned in Oxford, I wanted to take a picture. It's all very charming and picturesque (as you will hopefully see when we find a place that let's us download pictures. . .). We are heading off to Bath tomorrow and then on to Penzance and Cornwall on Monday. Will post again soon.
treet in a straight line - instead, you walk a few feet into a street onto an island of concrete. Rather than continue ahead in the same fashion, you then walk the length of the concrete and cross from there. An iron fence surrounds all other parts of the slab of concrete, lest you decide to cross where you should not. In particularly busy areas, you repeat this same exercise about fifteen times before you get to the other side of the street you are trying to reach. Distances here look deceptively close - surely you can make it to that pub across the street before it closes at midnight; after all, it's only 10:00pm right now. After looking at all of the crosswalks that you must pass through before reaching that pub, you are smart to just turn around and head home.When we have actually chanced to reach a pub in time to eat, we've noticed an oddity that seems to be typical everywhere. From the outside, you see a traditional-looking English pub, complete with dark, rich wood, lovely hanging flower baskets, and a distinct looking coat-of-ar
ms painted on a sign. Walking inside, you expect the atmosphere indoors to be much the same. And of course, it is. . .with one blaring exception. The music of choice almost everywhere is American pop music, and this holds true particularly for pubs. It's a comical absurdity - does it not strike any of the people working here that there is somewhat of an incongruity between hundreds of years of tradition and bad Sting songs on repeat? (This did happen to us in Canterbury - can't remember the song title but it played the entire time we were there!) I suppose there is something that must be said about living in the times we are in and realizing that people are trying to make a living here just like anywhere else, but somehow, it does seem like something is being lost. . .Besides spending our time in pubs and crossing streets, Anna and I really are having a fabulous time. We walked through the National Gallery here in London just before taking high tea at The Orangery at K
ensington Palace (The Queen mum is not in town just now, or I'm sure we could have arranged for tea with her - isn't that like the papal audience?). I was fairly impressed by the collection at the National Gallery; they have some very famous pieces of artwork housed there. I thought we were going to have to wait for the Louvre for that sort of thing. Unfortunately, I was not quite as impressed with the high tea. This is an instance of being unfairly spoiled by the American version - I was taken to tea for my birthday two years ago by two lovely friends, and I have to say, you get a lot more food and tea in America than you do here. However, sitting outside on a cool blustery day in London, drinking hot tea and looking out over Kensington Gardens really makes up for a lack of food. . . We saw "The Merchant of Venice" on Tuesday during the day - what an amazing thing! It's the perfect thing to do in London; I really felt like I was there during Shakespeare's day. We stood in the yard area (basically cheap seats because you're not sitting), and it is probably the best place to be. You're right there next to the stage; you can reach out and touch the actors. There is so much energy and excitement in a live performance, and even a person who isn't much of a Shakespeare fan (thank you, public school education) can truly enjoy the experience. Recommended to everyone who comes to London. Canterbury was a lovely old town we visited on Wednesday, the Cathedral is a very powerful place to visit. I think we both liked Oxford better, however. It felt less touristy and much more like a place where people actually lived. Everywhere we turned in Oxford, I wanted to take a picture. It's all very charming and picturesque (as you will hopefully see when we find a place that let's us download pictures. . .). We are heading off to Bath tomorrow and then on to Penzance and Cornwall on Monday. Will post again soon.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
A Brilliant Arrival
I know you've all been anxious to know whether or not Anna and I were able to take advantage of all of the wonderful movies available to us on our flight over to London ("Glitter", "Hellraiser 5", etc.) Sadly enough, we were not (I know, a waste of a flight). Since it was an overnight flight, we slept most of the way over (at least, Anna did - I tried but was not very successful). Most people did the same. Consequently, the flight was very quiet (no screaming children) and rather pleasant. Unlike most other 11-hour flights, this one seemed quite short. We're not really feeling the distance yet of just how far we are from home. And since we're in a country of English speakers with a somewhat familiar culture, we also
don't feel like foreigners just yet (I'm sure that will change in France and Italy). Let me just say for the record, though, that London has a very distinct way of welcoming you and letting you know you're a visitor after all. All over this beautiful city, there are acres and acres of gorgeous park land. You can stroll past quaint little shops and restaurants right into a park across the street, and on into gardens along the riverbank. Scattered throughout the miles of grassland are brightly colored chairs, grouped together in twos. On Friday afternoon, after Anna and I had wandered through the streets of London for awhile, we found two inviting chairs that promised some ease of our (my) jetlag. We sat down with a picnic lunch, looking out at the river and not quite believing we were in London. Not fifteen minutes later, a man comes over and tells us we owe money for sitting in these chairs. I didn't believe him and asked where the charge was posted. He pointed to a tiny sign far off in the distance, hidden behind low-hanging branches from the forest of trees surrounding it. Stunned and not being sure of the customs in another country for this sort of thing, we handed over the money. Wanting to get full use out of these chairs we had just rented for two hours, we talked and rested for awhile, watching the people of London go by. In order to save you the expense the next time you're in London, I'll be posting a picture of these ubiquito
us chairs (not sure when, am having trouble finding internet cafes from which to download pictures). And I had just been thinking, right as we spotted these chairs, "Oh, how nice that the city of London provides chairs for its people to sit in. Those high taxes you hear about in Europe are apparently good for something." Evidently not so - be forewarned about anything that looks too good to be true. . .
Aside from this slightly embarrassing episode, our time here in London has been wonderful so far. We are staying with cousins of Anna's, a wonderful young family with four children, and they are graciously allowing us to use their home as a base for our travels around London. I am already enjoying this city tremendously; there is something about it that is immediately appealing to me. It is a huge city with plenty going on; but there is also something calm and elegant about it. The old buildings are beautiful, with so many charming little stores and restaurants in between. There is so much greenery in this city, and with the Thames River running through it, you have the makings for a very lovely city indeed. We found the Old Globe theater yesterday and will be seeing "The Merchant of Venice" tomorrow night. We've walked through many of the little neighborhoods, eaten in pubs, and had lots of conversations with authentic Englishmen. I'm about to get kicked off the internet, so I'll post more later. Suffice it to say that I am thrilled to be here and am excited about everything else to come.
don't feel like foreigners just yet (I'm sure that will change in France and Italy). Let me just say for the record, though, that London has a very distinct way of welcoming you and letting you know you're a visitor after all. All over this beautiful city, there are acres and acres of gorgeous park land. You can stroll past quaint little shops and restaurants right into a park across the street, and on into gardens along the riverbank. Scattered throughout the miles of grassland are brightly colored chairs, grouped together in twos. On Friday afternoon, after Anna and I had wandered through the streets of London for awhile, we found two inviting chairs that promised some ease of our (my) jetlag. We sat down with a picnic lunch, looking out at the river and not quite believing we were in London. Not fifteen minutes later, a man comes over and tells us we owe money for sitting in these chairs. I didn't believe him and asked where the charge was posted. He pointed to a tiny sign far off in the distance, hidden behind low-hanging branches from the forest of trees surrounding it. Stunned and not being sure of the customs in another country for this sort of thing, we handed over the money. Wanting to get full use out of these chairs we had just rented for two hours, we talked and rested for awhile, watching the people of London go by. In order to save you the expense the next time you're in London, I'll be posting a picture of these ubiquitous chairs (not sure when, am having trouble finding internet cafes from which to download pictures). And I had just been thinking, right as we spotted these chairs, "Oh, how nice that the city of London provides chairs for its people to sit in. Those high taxes you hear about in Europe are apparently good for something." Evidently not so - be forewarned about anything that looks too good to be true. . .Aside from this slightly embarrassing episode, our time here in London has been wonderful so far. We are staying with cousins of Anna's, a wonderful young family with four children, and they are graciously allowing us to use their home as a base for our travels around London. I am already enjoying this city tremendously; there is something about it that is immediately appealing to me. It is a huge city with plenty going on; but there is also something calm and elegant about it. The old buildings are beautiful, with so many charming little stores and restaurants in between. There is so much greenery in this city, and with the Thames River running through it, you have the makings for a very lovely city indeed. We found the Old Globe theater yesterday and will be seeing "The Merchant of Venice" tomorrow night. We've walked through many of the little neighborhoods, eaten in pubs, and had lots of conversations with authentic Englishmen. I'm about to get kicked off the internet, so I'll post more later. Suffice it to say that I am thrilled to be here and am excited about everything else to come.
Sept 13: Our first evening in London at Liz and Michael's we had an intriguing 70-something year old guest for dinner named Shirleybelle, who claimed to be sixty two and was a double for Grace Kelly back in the day (i'll post a pic of her when i get to a computer with a usb port). She's truly a former B movie actress who stood in for Grace Kelly and somewhere along the way, got religion and lived with Mother Teresa in Calcutta for 5 yrs. M. Teresa told her she would be a nun but i guess even saints can be very wrong sometimes. Anyway, MJ crashed early but i stayed up with Liz and Michael to be entertained by Shirleybelle and Michael's sangria. M. insisted on blaring Louis Armstrong until 12:30 am. He says he first learned about the Old Testament from Louie.
A fine beginning.
Sept 14: Awoke to a screaming hedge-trimmer RIGHT outside our window (the flats here are all overlapping), so gave up on sleeping in and got up to read Rumpelstiltskin to Georgiana. I tried out an English accent on her during the reading and she only gave me a few funny looks so I thought i must be pretty good, but then she later corrected me on my pronunciation of "oratory." Today i said it right and she really patted me on the back about it. "You remembered!" - all pleased.
MJ and i took the lightrail to Waterloo Station, walked across the bridge and went through Covent Garden, where I spotted an actual Tintin store. Found Trafalgar Square and ate lunch in St. James Park. There are these cool little cafes every two shops or so in London called Pret a Manger, so we stopped in at one on our way to the park. We sat in some stripey lawn chairs that turned out to be a pound fifty a piece (a black man that we thought was a bum a-begging demanded his queenship's dues) for two hours, so then we had to sit there forever to make it worth our change. Fell asleep- jet lagging pretty badly at this point- and finally got up to check out Picadilly Circus, Hyde Park, and Kensington Gardens.
Highlight of the day: evening Tridentine mass at the Oratory (founded by John Neumann) in celebration of the Motu Proprio. Celestial! The church, organ, choir - fantastic. We got confused on our way there and went to the Protestant church next to it first. They could tell just by looking at us that we were Catholic and politely asked us to leave. Not really, but a nice Protestant man directed us to the proper place. "Our church was built ten years before yours,"he said, smiling,"but now yours looms over ours and hides it." That would have been a fun conversation, but we were about to be late.
Elizabeth had to pick up the children from a birthday party after mass but she told us to go meet people at the church's wine reception. I expected it to be a boringish 10-15 people thing but Franz Forrester ushered us into a large upstairs drawing room packed with English Catholics. Everyone was friendly; we met an American girl with killer shoes (the girls dress so smashingly here) who just got her MBA in London, and then a Polish-British chap named Karl. Also talked to an Englishman named Robert who loves Buenos Aires.
We went to our first English pub in Clapham with an Englishman who doesn't drink. He had a fresh lime soda. He doesn't smoke either. Probably the only one in the city.
Sept 15/16: Slept really late yesterday, went for lunch at The Princess of Wales pub in Waterloo, named for the Catholic woman that George IV was illicitly married to for a short time before his father got wind of it (read this off the menu) - the influence of Catholicism is strangely present here even though everything's so Protestant. Found St. Paul's and had a heck ofa time finding the old globe to get tickets for a play. can't wait for that.
woo, running out of time here. went to the oratory for mass today, had brunch after in South Kensington with the Forrester family (Michael's family). Talked to Thomas and Franz on the patio overlooking the street.
A fine beginning.
Sept 14: Awoke to a screaming hedge-trimmer RIGHT outside our window (the flats here are all overlapping), so gave up on sleeping in and got up to read Rumpelstiltskin to Georgiana. I tried out an English accent on her during the reading and she only gave me a few funny looks so I thought i must be pretty good, but then she later corrected me on my pronunciation of "oratory." Today i said it right and she really patted me on the back about it. "You remembered!" - all pleased.
MJ and i took the lightrail to Waterloo Station, walked across the bridge and went through Covent Garden, where I spotted an actual Tintin store. Found Trafalgar Square and ate lunch in St. James Park. There are these cool little cafes every two shops or so in London called Pret a Manger, so we stopped in at one on our way to the park. We sat in some stripey lawn chairs that turned out to be a pound fifty a piece (a black man that we thought was a bum a-begging demanded his queenship's dues) for two hours, so then we had to sit there forever to make it worth our change. Fell asleep- jet lagging pretty badly at this point- and finally got up to check out Picadilly Circus, Hyde Park, and Kensington Gardens.
Highlight of the day: evening Tridentine mass at the Oratory (founded by John Neumann) in celebration of the Motu Proprio. Celestial! The church, organ, choir - fantastic. We got confused on our way there and went to the Protestant church next to it first. They could tell just by looking at us that we were Catholic and politely asked us to leave. Not really, but a nice Protestant man directed us to the proper place. "Our church was built ten years before yours,"he said, smiling,"but now yours looms over ours and hides it." That would have been a fun conversation, but we were about to be late.
Elizabeth had to pick up the children from a birthday party after mass but she told us to go meet people at the church's wine reception. I expected it to be a boringish 10-15 people thing but Franz Forrester ushered us into a large upstairs drawing room packed with English Catholics. Everyone was friendly; we met an American girl with killer shoes (the girls dress so smashingly here) who just got her MBA in London, and then a Polish-British chap named Karl. Also talked to an Englishman named Robert who loves Buenos Aires.
We went to our first English pub in Clapham with an Englishman who doesn't drink. He had a fresh lime soda. He doesn't smoke either. Probably the only one in the city.
Sept 15/16: Slept really late yesterday, went for lunch at The Princess of Wales pub in Waterloo, named for the Catholic woman that George IV was illicitly married to for a short time before his father got wind of it (read this off the menu) - the influence of Catholicism is strangely present here even though everything's so Protestant. Found St. Paul's and had a heck ofa time finding the old globe to get tickets for a play. can't wait for that.
woo, running out of time here. went to the oratory for mass today, had brunch after in South Kensington with the Forrester family (Michael's family). Talked to Thomas and Franz on the patio overlooking the street.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Ready to Go
Okay, I think we're set.
We've been planning this trip for almost a year now (a good nine months, at least), so I'd say we're ready. If we haven't figured something out by now, it's probably not important (though I'm sure you'll hear all about it if this turns out to be untrue).
Just to give you an idea of what you can expect, I'm going to leave these lovely internet pictures in my post. The picture on the right is of Colmar, France, and the lower picture is of London. We'll be visiting both places, so if all goes well, you should be seeing similar shots later (of course, my pictures will undoubtedly be much better, since I'll be in them).
We'll be leaving from LAX on Wednesday night (Sept. 12) at 8:50pm. It's a direct, 11-hour flight to Heathrow Airport in London and according to sources close to me, this is about as long as a plane can fly without refueling. I don't know how accurate this is, but please say a prayer for us that we arrive safely and don't splash down somewhere because of a fuel miscalculation. . .
Anyway, we hope you enjoy our blog; we thought it would be a good way to keep in touch and let you know how our trip is going. Please feel free to comment or email us any time - we'd love to hear from you!
We've been planning this trip for almost a year now (a good nine months, at least), so I'd say we're ready. If we haven't figured something out by now, it's probably not important (though I'm sure you'll hear all about it if this turns out to be untrue).
Just to give you an idea of what you can expect, I'm going to leave these lovely internet pictures in my post. The picture on the right is of Colmar, France, and the lower picture is of London. We'll be visiting both places, so if all goes well, you should be seeing similar shots later (of course, my pictures will undoubtedly be much better, since I'll be in them).
We'll be leaving from LAX on Wednesday night (Sept. 12) at 8:50pm. It's a direct, 11-hour flight to Heathrow Airport in London and according to sources close to me, this is about as long as a plane can fly without refueling. I don't know how accurate this is, but please say a prayer for us that we arrive safely and don't splash down somewhere because of a fuel miscalculation. . .Anyway, we hope you enjoy our blog; we thought it would be a good way to keep in touch and let you know how our trip is going. Please feel free to comment or email us any time - we'd love to hear from you!
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