Day(s) at the Museum(s), Part II.

23 May, a Monday, class returned with a raging fury (do excuse the hyperbole). I did much better on the quiz, though, which is certainly a spot of good for that morning. I was hoping to perhaps trek on over to Harrods and Knightsbridge again, as Miss Erica has yet to experience all of that. Alas, we had a class trip that afternoon, about which I forgot entirely! Reading the syllabus is always a good plan. Class, having started at 9 am, got out at 10:30. Kristin and I, having not eaten earlier, had breakfast at this little cafe on Gloucester Road called Cafe Forum, I believe. It really has become quite the favourite of ours, as it is very inexpensive, has good food (and excellent cappuccinos), and has a bit of a French vibe to it. Kristin ordered the full English breakfast (only 6 quid for eggs, toast, back bacon, sausage, tomato, mushrooms, and beans!), and I had these very fantastically cooked scrambled eggs on toast (just over 3 quid!). My cappuccino is 2.10 GBP, and they give you free croissants with butter and jam with every coffee order. Seriously, free croissants. And they know how to cook scrambled eggs. I love this place very much. After breakfast, we popped over to Waitrose again to stock up the fridge a wee bit, then zipped through Boots (a pharmacy/makeup store, really) for allergy medicine and a few other things (I cannot tell you how bothersome the pollen is!). Come 1:30 pm, we lazily took the tube from Earl’s Court to Gloucester Station (we could have walked to Gloucester), where we met our entire class for the longer haul over to the British Museum. We finally made it to the museum and met up with Liz, the guide from our London bus tour and Westminster Abbey.

Exterior shots of the British Museum.

The British Museum is really very fantastic, and I honestly would go back, as there were so many more intriguing exhibits to see. When first walking into the center of the museum, you come across this very large, circular room with a glass ceiling, open to the sky. The ceiling was designed for the Millennium, creatively dubbed the Millennium Ceiling… or so we thought. ‘Twas what our tour guide Liz claimed, however further research says this part of the museum is actually called the Great Court. Proper names aside, watching the clouds rotating around the sky through the glass gives this sort of majestic, timeless, spinning globe effect, mirroring the timelessness of the museum in a simplistic, almost gratifying affirmation of what lays inside its walls. In the very center of the court is the famous Round Reading Room, historically used by the likes of Oscar Wilde, Bram Stoker, H. G. Wells, Karl Marx and many more when the museum still housed a vast library collection (this has since moved to the national British Library at St. Pancras).

The Great Court. 

First, Liz took us into one of the smaller sort of libraries flanking the museum’s center, wherein she showed us a replica of the Rosetta Stone and explained both its history and extreme importance in the way ancient languages could then be deciphered from its writings. The Rosetta Stone can essentially be divided into three parts, each telling the same story, if you will, but three distinct scripts- Egyptian hieroglyphs on top, demotic in the middle section, with Ancient Greek rounding out the bottom third. The Stone itself was, as Liz would say, acquired by the British as the spoils of war upon the British defeat of the French in the Napoleonic Wars. Acquired, because apparently, and I quote, “‘Theft’ is a very dirty word in Europe. We do not thieve. We do not steal. We… acquire.” I suppose you would not want something as dirty as theft to tarnish the Brits’ classy, civilized reputation! As such, you either find a more appealing (read: nice) euphemism for whatever you are describing, insist that your country won or tied a battle, or unapologetically decline to mention any instance of loss or shame. Historical retelling is fantastically entertaining, I must say.

After the brief lesson on the Rosetta Stone, we were whisked past the actual Rosetta Stone (encased in glass, of course!) in order to enter the section for Assyrian and Mesopotamian artifacts dating back to the 11th through 8th-century B.C. The entrance to this first exhibit was guarded by two gargantuan “creatures” of Assyrian origin. These creatures had the heads of man and the bodies of, if I am remembering correctly, lions with wings. Such was meant to symbolize the wisdom and rationality of man, the strength and pride of a lion, and perhaps the wings added a rather fearsome, other-wordly note to the mix. Underneath the belly of each of these creatures is carved Cuneiform script, I believe speaking of the Nimrud royal palace these creatures used to guard (such is now modern-day, northern Iraq). Behind these creatures, one finds a room almost entirely lined with these gorgeous, intricately carved stone panels depicting an Assyrian king’s battle with lions that had been ravaging his city. The purpose of carving this story into the panels was to assert the strength and power of the king, as he did in fact defeat the lions and protect his city from harm. Thou shalt be warned, ye who enter! Liz said this was an early form of propaganda. Undoubtedly it was.

Assyrian statues of winged, human-lion creatures, 883-859 B.C. 

Carved depiction of Assyrian lion-hunts, 645-635 B.C.

The next exhibit will most certainly be a favourite of my grandfather’s, and I must say it was completely gratifying to see as it was all about our lovely, Greek ancestors. I give thee… the Parthenon! Well, a small model of it, as we know the Parthenon is still (partially) standing in Athens. The Parthenon was originally built as a temple for the goddess Athena, known not only for her ferocity and strength in war, but also for her unique birth. I am sure not a soul would argue that springing from your father’s head fully grown, clothed, and ready for battle is nothing short of unique, yes? Once Greece adopted Christianity, the temple was converted into a church, and later into a mosque once the Turks gained control of the island nation (and then some). The only reason why the Parthenon appears to be in such disrepair today is due to its lamentable involvement in an unceremonious, Venetian bombing back in the 17th-century. Using an historical monument as an armory is not a good idea, kids. In the early 19th-century, the Earl of Elgin, Thomas Bruce of Great Britain, acquired (bought) the carved, marble panels that lined the interior of the Parthenon. These panels are now known as… the Elgin Marbles (again with that British creativity in naming things!). The Elgin Marbles, and other acquired statues are almost obscenely life-like. For instance, the pantheon that once stood in promenade across the Parthenon’s roofline is entirely three-dimensional, with exact, painstaking detail carried even to the sculpture’s backs! This is despite the fact that not a soul could ever see their backs when placed upon the Parthenon. Liz suggested that the Greeks had wonderful foresight, realizing that these would be displayed in a certain British museum one day, therefore such all-around detail was requisite. I shall apologize for the lack of pantheon pictures, as there were too many gawking tourists in the way to snap a decent photo. It should be noted that the roofline was indeed my favourite part of this exhibit.

The Parthenon model, a few peers, and tour guide Liz (coincidentally the one with her hand raised). 

The Elgin Marbles.

A wider shot.

One of the horse heads flanking the Parthenon’s roofline, alongside the pantheon of gods.

We walked along around the exhibit, unfortunately (and hastily) passing through the rest of the Greek and Roman exhibit, sans stopping. Liz took us all upstairs to Medieval Britain, where we saw the Lewis Chessmen, astonishingly a set of chess, made in the 12th-century by Scots in the Hebrides. She did not say much about the chessmen, mentioning how they inspired the chessmen design for the Harry Potter films. Moving along ever-swiftly, we came across a lovingly (ahem) preserved, unfortunately murdered man called the ‘Lindow Man,’ who was the victim of a semi-ritualistic Druid sacrifice (Druids, by the way, were the elite priesthood of British Celts dating back to the Iron Age). I say semi-ritualistic, because Druids most always sacrificed animals, leaving human sacrifice for the most dire of situations. Apparently it was considered quite lucky and an honour to be chosen for the sacrifice. To be chosen, one dozen enthusiastic citizens were gathered together, awaiting their twelfth of a kind of hoe cake. The person with the most burned section of hoe cake was the winner… I’m not sure I would classify this as winning, but to each their own, I suppose. Upon examination, Lindow Man was discovered to have ingested this hoe cake, in addition to a bit of holly before his untimely death. The holly effectively numbed him from the pain of having one’s head bashed open, throat slit, and blood drained. Indeed.

The Lewis Chessmen, 12th-century.

 Lindow Man, roughly 2000 years old.

The final organized exhibit visitation was that of the Mummy Gallery, which indeed sang to my inner child, as Ancient Egypt and mummies, in particular, were quite the obsession of mine back in grade school. Kristin spoke of how creeped out she was by all of he bodies, especially the idea of having one’s brain removed through the nose by a nice little hooked instrument. I expressed my fascination with the subject, to which she said, “That is why you are pre-med, and I’m pre-law.” Clara chimed in, saying, “And I leave all that to Brendan Fraser, which is why I am a film major.” Humour amongst the dead! Who knew? We were shown an example of perfect, natural corporeal preservation, managed by direct contact with dry, desert sand. I give thee Ginger, named thusly because of his wonderful ginger hair, of course! Ginger is the earliest-known Egyptian mummy, dating back to 3300 B.C. He was buried with various accoutrements, including vessels, dishes, and the like to be used in the afterlife. In Ancient Egyptian religion, it was believed that one would a) only make it to the afterlife if they were preserved entirely, and b) essentials in one’s life were needed in burial to be taken over to the next world. It seems that Ginger ticked both boxes, and is having a grand old time in some sort of sultry paradise. After Ginger, we looked upon a poor soul who was not preserved properly, therefore did not make it to Paradiso. A shame. This individual lacked the direct contact with sand to preserve his or her flesh, therefore looks like a bit… bony.

Time dragged on and the Egyptians became a bit more skilled in the art of bodily preservation; burials shifted from the more mundane and simplistic, to elaborate and exacting. Sand preservation was soon ditched (too unreliable) and precise mummification promptly adopted in its place. Such involved the removal of bodily organs, leaving the heart inside. The heart remained because it was said that upon entrance to the afterlife, one’s heart was weighed on a scale determining inherent goodness; if your own heart was not within your body, there was a chance you could have pulled the old switcheroo with some unsuspecting dimwit’s better heart, thus unfairly securing your place in Paradiso. The removed organs were wrapped in natron-soaked bandages and placed within urns, to be buried with the body. The body itself was dried with salts and preserved, like the organs, by being wrapped in the aforementioned soaked bandages. Bodies were still buried with life’s necessities, with the wealthiest of Egypt’s dead being buried either quite literally with servants, or with statues thereof, to come alive when needed. The bodies were placed within sarcophagi, which became more elaborate and beautifully detailed as time wore on. The photographs below show a selection of mummified bodies and their sarcophagi, all Egyptian and dating from various periods.

Ginger, c. 3300 B.C.

A horridly preserved body. 

Following the Mummy Gallery, I broke from the group and ran down the stairs to seek out that original Rosetta Stone, again, wanting to take a picture of the real thing. Presenting… the Rosetta Stone! It was admittedly quite difficult to get a decent picture of the thing, namely because of how much glare bounced off the glass casing. The milling tourists did not help, either. 

The Rosetta Stone, 196 B.C.

After the museum jaunt, I declared that I wished to return to the museum another day, however the others were not as keen. Moving along, we gathered Erica to find a place for dinner. After much debate, we found a nice little pub called the Angel & Crown. ‘Twas near Leicester Square, around which we oddly always find ourselves (I think it is the theatre calling us in). I finally had fish and chips, which was very good, indeed. Even the mushy peas, which sounds quite vile, were a nice creamy, springy contrast to the fried goodness. Speaking of which, the British really know how to fry things properly- always crisp, never soggy or oily- and that goes for fish AND chips. It is a wonder how those chips stay so lovely… anyway, Erica tried her first steak and stout pie, while Kristin got the fish and chips as well, and Clara had the potato and leek soup. We polished off dinner with a chocolate sponge pudding I had ordered for myself, but was willing (shocker!) to share. The pudding was, from what I could tell, the traditional steamed sponge (really, cake) served with a fudge-like chocolate sauce, raspberry sauce, and vanilla ice cream (even though I asked for just cream). It was, lacking cream aside, a fantastic way to end the meal, as by that time we were quite tired, a bit chilly, and in want of a comfy bed or something of that sort.

The Angel & Crown.

Chocolate sponge pudding.

Next up will be the excursion to Stonehenge and Bath, and our long-awaited viewing of Tennant and Tate’s Much Ado About Nothing. Sigh no more.

Day(s) at the Museum(s), Part I.

The past couple of days have been quite museum-heavy, as Sunday spelled an opportunity for extra credit (visit the Museum of London and write about it), while Monday afternoon consisted of a class trip to the British National Museum (in short, utterly BRILLIANT!).

22 May, Kristin and I slept in slightly, had a quick breakfast of tea, pan-crisped prosciutto, and oatmeal with golden syrup, and took the tube over to the Museum of London with Miss Clara and a couple of guys on our trip. The objective of this museum visit was to extensively go through three exhibits (preferably pertaining to the time periods covered in our classes), and then write about the exhibits for a whopping 10 extra credit points (on top of the 6 point quiz that we… let’s just say most likely did not quite master too successfully). It was incredibly windy when we got off the tube, however it made a fantastic show of my long trench coat, as it billowed to and fro in the breeze. The museum itself was rather neat, as it quite literally (shocker, I know) covered the history of just London from its earliest, prehistoric roots, up until the present day (there were Blackberry phones on display, I kid thee not). Before we entered the exhibit areas, we were greeted by a wall of hand-painted and/or sketched maps of London. This one in particular caught our eyes… do take the time to read every inch of it, as it is quite humorous, and pardon the glare, if you’d please:

The first exhibit we visited was that concerning London before it was London or even Roman Londinium; this was all about prehistoric London, fraught with all sorts of beasties (like the wooly rhinoceros!), homo (the genus, not sexual orientation, people…) and neanderthal ancestors, the earliest tools, foraging methods, and the like of those ancestors’ doings. Frankly, it reminded me much of my honours history of food class the semester before last, but a smidgeon lighter on the food elements. As is to be expected, prehistoric London experienced waves of colder and warmer climatic periods, with human ancestors adapting accordingly, relying mainly on hunting and gathering, with the increased use of tools. These tools were at first made of flint, and hand axes were discovered in what is modern Piccadilly, dating back to 300,000 B.C. Tools were also made of bone, antler, and quartzite. About 8500 years ago, the rising seas finally cut the British Isles off from the rest of Europe, initiating its advantageous isolation (with regard to disease, cultural development and the maintenance of kingdoms much later). A really fascinating thing I learned was that London used to be covered in ancient forests, now having long since been drowned by the River Thames. A few photographs…

Flint hand axes, c. 300,000 B.C. 

Flint hand axes and flakes, c. 300,000 B.C. 

Wooly rhinoceros skull, flint leaf point, flint knives, spear tips, and long blade tools.

 Yew trees, 2500 – 1200 B.C.

The second exhibit was largely archeological in scope, namely because it followed the rather tedious, albeit fascinating process of finding and carefully removing fantastic artifacts from their burial places. Here, we began to delve somewhat into the early Britons. There were a few more tools, and weaponry befitting grand, Anglo-Saxon battles depicted in Old English epics of yore! Moving along, we found Roman Britannia, specifically the city of Londinium, built roughly around A.D. 50. Britannia was first invaded by Julius Caesar, himself, who claimed Londinium as his own, forcing the city to pay duties to the Empire every year (which of course they did not pay). From then on, Londinium expanded quite rapidly, as it was indeed now a Roman city. As quite the hub for European trade (heavy on the imports), Londinium also was a bastion for Roman culture, flourishing wealth, and forging ahead by means of modernity and progress. Roman London was known for its bath houses, the rather large wall build around its entirety (by A.D. 220), its coins, architecture, and waterways. With the fall of the Roman Empire came the disintegration of Roman control over London, opening the city to increasingly invading Saxons that would define “Englishness” or “Britishness” to come. Dark ages they were, indeed. Now for the photographic evidence!

Tombstone of a Roman centurion, 3rd century.

Various vessels.

Horse skeleton and harness, 2nd century. 

Equestrian tools, 2nd century.

Roman medical instruments, 3rd – 4th century?

Gold coins, specifically those of Emperor Antoninus Pius, A.D. 138-61.

At about A.D. 550, Britannia fell under Saxon control after London essentially became a bit of a ghost town (that is, once the Romans decided to fail miserably in the art of ruling an empire). The Germanic Saxons thus mingled with the English/Britons/Angles, henceforth the Anglo-Saxon “race” was fashioned, accordingly. Britannia was forging into the infamous Medieval Age, fraught with courtly love, rampant religiosity and a wee smattering of holy crusades, an obsession with royals (we still have this), Arthurian legend, and knights in glistening armor and chain mail, clacking coconut shells, and an enchanter, whom some call… Tim! Okay, okay, not the last two. Getting back to reported history, this period was characterized by, among other things, many small kingdoms, farming, and marked the founding of ‘Lundenwic’ by the Anglo-Saxons in the 600’s. Lundenwic was controlled by the East Saxons, who inhabited what was formerly Roman Londinium. The West Saxons, led by King Alfred (or Ethelred- what a name!), gathered an army and took over Lundenwic, re-christening it Lundenburg, and built up the city once more. Curiously enough, Alfred was the only British monarch to ever be called “Great.” Others held the burden of such epithets as “the Unready” (a failed translation of “ill-counciled,” alas still unfortunate), the “Black Prince” (because he fancied wearing the colour), and “the Confessor” (as this particular king went to confession every day). 1066 saw the Britons fall into the hands of the Normans (les Francais!). The Normans also contributed heavily by way of architecture (the castle), government (the feudal system), food (I could go into a whole diatribe about the Norman influence on English cuisine, but I shall forgo that to expedite this a bit), and language (modern, as opposed to Old English, with all of its glorious, dualistic, and nonsensical grammatical structure and word usage).

It was also during this time (well, later, as it was in the 1300’s) that London, Lundenwic, Londinium, or Lundenburg experienced that hideous little disease known as the Black Death. It seems that Mum has an even more legitimate reason to completely loathe and deplore vermin (I assume most people do not take too well to plague carriers, am I right?). Anyway, the Middle Ages also spelled a time for building grand churches, and expanding/progressing industry (mainly cottage, I believe), and government (Parliament finally began meeting somewhat regularly in Westminster c. A.D. 1000). Religion held a very grand, strong role in society and in government, especially if you were the Archbishop of Canterbury, as was (later Saint) Thomas Becket. Becket has a fun story- basically, he made a big fuss when he disapproved of the king overstepping his lawful boundaries, the king did not enjoy Becket’s condemnations, thus Becket was murdered by four knights. With four blows to the head, the first of which shaved off the top of his skull, revealing the brain, with the following finishing off the poor guy, leaving his ravaged skull and brain matter open for an all-out buffet. A buffet, that is, for relic-making. Anyone for a handkerchief soaked in Becket’s blood? No? How about rubbing a bit of it in your eyes? Yes, people did do these things with all of his blood and brain loveliness. Not so civil, methinks.

Chain mail shirt, swords, jousting badges, harness decorations, and a buckler (small shield), A.D. 1300’s. 

Medieval haute couture. 

Tailor and textile accessories, tools, dyes, weights, and custom seals, A.D. 1300’s – 1400’s. 

“Cookery” equipment: fish hooks, spit, dripping pan, skimmer, beer mugs, pots, etc.

Chalices, patens, vessels for wine, oil, and water, vases, figurines, and prayer beads, A.D. 1400’s – 1500’s.

Bibles and books, examples of Blackletter and Roman printing type.

Pair of salts (A.D. 1550 and 1552), The Leigh Cup (A.D. 1513), and The Wagon and Tunn (A.D. 1554).

Moving swiftly (or not so swiftly) along, we toured the exhibit entitled “War, Plague, and Fire: 1550’s-1660’s,” to which Kristin said, “War, Plague, and Fire? Good, because if there was just War and Plague, I’d say let’s leave” (ahh, the sarcasm!). As to be expected (I find the English are incredibly straightforward in names and titles- perhaps to make up for their strange grammar?), the war in this exhibit was mainly the one and only English Civil War and a brief touching on Elizabeth I’s war with Espana. As for plague, it returned, and the great (actually quite terrible) London Fire rounds out the exhibit title beautifully. Somewhat randomly, there was a model of the Rose Theatre, which housed playwrights such as Shakespeare and Marlowe before the Globe was erected. Theatre was an increasingly important fixture in London culture, much to the chagrin of those fun-sucking Puritans. Unlike the Globe, the Rose did not burn down, thus its inclusion in this specific exhibit is slightly odd (outside the prescribed time periods, that is). The remainder of this exhibit housed models of 17th-century home interiors and more bits pertaining to the 17th-century plague resurgence, its associated medical tools (and others), and descriptions of medical practices with the disease, and the like, concluding with a film on the London Fire. Fun fact: the first modern taxi was called a sedan chair, which is basically this lovely wooden box in which wealthy Londoners were carried by two footmen (as to not dirty their fancy shoes with the filth that was- and probably still is- the London cobblestone road).

Tip: Take caution when viewing 1550’s-era portraits, as they may be haunted. One of the guys, Dan, was taking a picture of some portrait with his digital camera, and blink detection popped on. Allllrighty, then. “I was just taking a picture of the portrait,” he said, “and blink detection came on. Moooving away, now.” Indeed, sir. Indeed. 

A model of the Rose Theatre.

17th-century home interior.

Medical equipment for the plague.

The final two exhibits through which we dashed were those on Victorian Britain and Modern London. Victorian Britain held all sorts of gorgeous china, gold and silver items of any persuasion, clothing, shoes, watches, chairs, and anything entirely extravagant, beautiful, and expressive of grandeur and wealth (cheers for the British Empire!). Essentially, almost all of the items and goods produced during this time (and housed in this exhibit) were showing off the far-reaching extent of the Empire, its power, wealth, imperviousness to frankly laughable outside threats, etc. For instance, there was this one incredibly lovely golden yellow dress made of Chinese silk I really wanted to snag from the display case- it even looked like it was my size! To return, the imported, foreign, and expensive Chinese silk, crafted into an English, Victorian silhouette acted as just one instance of Empirical expression. Modern London was pretty cool, as it exhibited lots of wonderful clothing from the 1960’s to the 2000’s, a stunning stagecoach previously used by the Lord Mayor of London, children’s toys, telephone systems, typewriters, and as mentioned very much above, the Blackberry. Crackberry? Blackberry, which was not too far from the stage coach, early 20th-century  military garb, and swords. With that, I shall exit the museum description and segue into the remainder of our day. We parted ways with the boys, went off into a different direction, eventually whipped into a Pret for a few “take away” sandwiches (’tis take away, not take out or ‘to go,’ in Britain). The remainder of our evening was spent relaxing, nibbling on sandwiches, drinking tea, and doing a wee bit of homework. Another blog is on the way, and with luck, quite hastily (albeit lovingly put together).

Chinese silk-damask dress, c. 1760.

Uniform of St. George and grenadier’s cap, c. 1742 and c. 1750, respectively.

Watches produced in London, c. 1750’s. 

Silver wares and bits of porcelain china, late 1700’s.

The lovely sedan chair, c. 1775.

We get our kicks in Knightsbridge.

Saturday, 21 May, the three of us slept in a bit, I had a swig of grapefruit juice, and we popped on the tube over to Leicester Square. There are quite a few old book shops along Charing Cross Road, so of course we had to work our way through those. A lovely find: an 18th century copy of a book on Newton’s writings (signed by the publisher). Alas, I was not too keen on paying the 135 GBP price tag, so off we went, searching for more book shops and anything else that piqued our interests. Around the corner, we stumbled upon another Pret, and as Clara had never been, we dined there for lunch. They have this really quite incredible three-tiered chocolate mousse cup… thing (considering the low-key nature of the dining establishment). The first layer is this tiny rim of creme fraiche, followed by milk and dark chocolate mousses. Delicious. After lunch, Clara spied a comic book store across the street, so we of course had to go in for a visit. As comic books are clearly not my thing, I was not too entertained by the place, but it turns out that they do a lot of really intriguing movie nights (Dr. Strangelove or Back to the Future, anyone?).

I got a bit of an itch to go to Harrods, thus we got back on the tube and took it over to Knightsbridge. I do believe Clara and Kristin were in for quite the visual surprise, as those of you who have been to Harrods know of the glamour and sheer variety of wares they sell. I, having forgotten of its existence, found the Laduree at Harrods, and insisted that we go in. As some of you might expect, I purchased a coffee eclair and a box of macarons (2 orange blossom, 2 dark chocolate, 2 salted butter caramel, 1 rose, and 1 cherry almond). The macarons are as good as those in Paris, and are still as fresh as a daisy today (22 May), delightfully chewy, just sweet enough, crisp, and all around lovely. Below is a photo of the beautiful Laduree box, and three macarons (caramel, chocolate, and orange blossom), as the remaining macarons have long since been consumed.

Laduree macarons.

We munched on our Laduree purchases just outside the back door of Harrods, where we could watch the Audi R8’s, Astons, and MINIs (yes, MINIs!) motor on by. After Laduree, the three of us eventually made our way to the 1st Floor (our 2nd floor), which housed all of the completely fabulous, devastatingly gorgeous and obscenely expensive women’s clothing- anywhere from Herve Leger and Marchesa, to Burberry London and oh it was just wonderful. While ogling a few evening gowns, Clara asked one of the sales girls if this one dress came in any other colours. It did not, however, the girl summoned another one of her co-workers over and they both launched into this explanation about how they can make Clara this particular gown in any colour she desired, however it would have to be full price, as opposed to the sale price for the original colour. Oh, well if it must be full price… that will not do! Service at Harrod’s really is impeccable. Moving along the floor, we spied even more fanciful, beautiful gowns and found the fantastically entertaining section for those crazy hats and fascinators posh Brits wear to weddings and such. Fascinators like this, so if you really want to look quite daft and embarrass the royal family, all you have to do is take a cue from Princesses Beatrice and Eugenie. Cheers, girls!

Finally finding the 4th floor (home to the hipper, more young adult-friendly clothing), we split up and had a bit of a free-for-all. Well, when I say free-for-all, I mean I looked around feverishly for a few things to purchase, while Kristin and Clara schmoozed and bought these fabulous hair curlers after befriending this English sales girl named Stephanie, for whom they wrote out praiseful evaluation cards (calling themselves Duchess Kristin and Lady Clara, naturally). My purchases for the day were this white, sheer, chiffon blouse with blue polka-dots, gold buttons, and this fantastic, cut-out, sort of rewoven back and a silk and sort of matted, suede-like silk dress that is a burnt orange colour. I am very pleased. Following the Harrods adventure, we popped on over to Topshop, looked around, Kristin bought a pair of creamy lace brogues and a handbag, then we headed back on over to Earl’s Court and to our flat. After relaxing a wee bit, Kristin and I had dinner at this little Italian restaurant called Strada, which was quite delicious, however had completely horrendous service (here is the menu). Kristin ordered a seafood risotto and a bellini, while I had a ‘Spritz al Prosecco’ (Mum’s Aperol cocktail) and the ‘Pizza Fiorentina,’ which had spinach (cooked and fresh), nutmeg, shaved parmesan, black pepper, mozzarella, a slick of tomato sauce, and a fried egg. In hindsight, I really should have taken a picture of the pizza, as it was quite lovely. We had pudding at the Pembroke, indulging in some of the best sticky toffee pudding I have had in quite a while (but not quite as fantastic as Chrysa’s), and the requisite Eton mess, which is this delicious conglomeration of whipped cream, bits of meringue and proper, English strawberries.

Apologies for the lack of pictures, I shall redeem myself with the next post (hopefully). Cheers!

P.S. Points to anyone who guesses what I am referencing (with a twist) in the title of this post. 

Wanted: One, Good Chip Shop!

To any of you who have ever been to London, where might there be a great place to have proper, decent fish ‘n chips? Clara had a not-so-wonderful experience with the dish with some other friends, and Kristin and I do not really wish to repeat her experience. Recommendations would be greatly appreciated! Thank you, in advance.

Travelling by foot. And coach. And the Underground.

As promised, I shall pick up where I left off, with the last half of 19 May.

After our hasty exit from the V & A, Clara, Kristin and I walked around the museum, and stumbled upon this man, dressed as and speaking like a pirate captain (he was passing out fliers for a pirate museum). Clara of course had to take a picture with him, so here is that lovely gem:

We snapped a few more shots of the museum exteriors (V & A and the National History Museum), and ourselves…

Outside, V & A.

Inside, the Cafe.

…and walked over to a bus stop. While fishing frantically for my oyster card, Clara and Kristin had already hopped on the bus… and the doors SHUT. They left me STANDING there, at the bus stop, mouth agape, semi-stranded. Those silly, silly people!

Me on a bus, prior to the incident.

Taking matters into my own hands, I marched down the street and walked the rest of the way back to our flat, which was luckily a straight shot from that bus station. Needless to say, those two were quite shocked to see that I was, in fact, not on the bus when the doors closed, so they’re buying me dinner or a drink sometime very soon. After a little relaxation back in the flats, and realizing how late it was (it is incredible how light is remains even by 9 pm), the three of us walked down to Earl’s Court Road, and found a pub, where we each had a pint of Guinness and shared a couple bowls of “chips” (one of which had melted cheese on top). The name of the pub escapes me, however it was admittedly neither memorable nor decent enough to link.

My pint, with a kiss of red lipstick.

The remainder of the night was spent again in our flat (mine and Kristin’s), where we chatted and nibbled on various British sweets purchased at a little… what we would call a convenience store. I think they use a different term for those here, then again, I could be wrong about that. Kristin and Clara watched an old Disney Channel show, So Weird, capping the night off with Clara letting out a blood-curtling scream at one of the sequences in the show. Goodnight, Courtfield Gardens!

Me and Kristin, outside our flat the other day.

20 May, Kristin and I gleefully slept in quite late, somewhat to Clara’s dismay (we told her we’d wake up at 9 am, and let’s just say that did not happen). After getting ready, we trekked on over to Hammersmith for the DOCTOR WHO EXPERIENCE. Beforehand, we stopped at this not so fantastic Italian cafe, where I had really quite bad penne arrabiata and a weak cappuccino. By the way, apparently it is a British thing to dust cappuccinos with cocoa powder. Who knew? This cocoa-dusting has happened to me thrice, now. Moving along, I learned that I have been speaking in a British (technically English) accent from time to time, without even realizing it, so Clara instated a punishment: I get 5 chances (or instances) to speak with the accent per day, and when I go over the limit, I have to drink a pint of beer. Oh dear…

We finally made it to the Olympia Convention Center for DOCTOR WHO (after asking one woman on the street, the man behind the counter at the tube station, and the concierge at some random hotel). Chaos ensued. Actually, it did not, but Clara was beyond giddy, at which the girl behind the ticket counter began to laugh a bit, saying “Bless.” Oh, the British… they’re even a bit kind when expressing slight dismay. Seeing as though most of you do not watch Doctor Who, I shall not go into too much detail (such would take an entire blog to explain). At the beginning of the exhibition, there were a few displays of costumes and props from a few Series 5 episodes, around which we milled until we were allowed into the main part of the exhibition (they do so in 30 minute intervals). What you see directly below are snapshots of this first bit:

The entrance into DWE.

Costumes from “The Beast Below,” a Smiler and Liz 10.

Van Gogh’s paints and easel, “Vincent and the Doctor.”

Van Gogh’s rendering of the Krafayis.

Props and bits of the set from “The Hungry Earth” and “Cold Blood.”

Costumes and props from “The Vampires in Venice.”

The main part of the exhibition was interactive, beginning with a brief film acting as the preface to our journey, if you will. We walked through a “crack in time” and into what is called Starship UK, from which were were summoned into the Doctor‘s space ship/time machine, the TARDIS. Clara, Kristin, and I luckily and humbly had the honour of flying the TARDIS (which stands for Time And Relative Dimension In Space). In short, we went through a horde of Weeping Angels (thankfully, Clara and I missed this bit, as we ran through it too quickly to see it lit up in its terrifying glory) and a Dalek space ship, in battle, finally winding up back in contact with the Doctor, who saved us all from the Weeping Angels, Cybermen, and Daleks trying to shoot at us. The last bit was really scary, as it was enhanced with 3D glasses. Clara and I literally jumped and screamed at the Weeping Angels. Nightmares, I tell thee. Nightmares will be had!

Unfortunately, we were not allowed to take photographs in the main exhibit/interactive bit, but could do so in the final section. The last part of the exhibit featured more Doctor Who props, bits of sets, costumes, and monsters/aliens from Series 5 and past series (from Classic Who, all the way through Series 4). This, in my opinion, was the absolute best part, namely because I could walk through the Tenth Doctor‘s TARDIS console (for the who do not know, the Tenth Doctor is my favourite). Here are the photos from the exhibit:

Costumes for Doctors Six through Ten.

Costumes for Doctors One through Four (I somehow missed Five… oops!).

The Tenth Doctor’s Costume.

Ten’s TARDIS interior.

Ten’s TARDIS console.

Me and Clara, so very happy.

The TARDIS’ exterior.

One of companion Rose Tyler’s costumes. 

The Daleks, from the Ten Era and Eleven Era, respectively.

The Silence, from Series 6. 

The Vashta Nerada, inhabiting a space suit, Series 4. 

The Face of Boe.

To wrap up the rest of the day, the three of us took a bus back to Kensington, where we strolled into Hyde Park (or so we thought). We came across what looked somewhat like a nice (yes, nice) guard gate and signs that said “No Photography.” Kristin and Clara commented on how odd the British must be, wondering why on earth we would not be allowed to take pictures in a park. Walking further, I observed where we were- “Guys, we cannot take photographs because we’re by the Israeli Embassy.” “Oh! Oops… where’s Hyde Park, then?” Eventually we found Hyde Park, with the direction of a police officer that surely thought us mad (as Hyde Park was literally down the street, very large, green, and a bit conspicuous in its presence). Silly tourists! After Hyde Park, which is very beautiful, by the way, we returned to our flat once more, this time via the tube. I made dinner (pasta), we hung out, and later Kristin and I went down to buy some more British candy and potato chip-like snacks. And soda. For the record, Irn Bru is hideously wretched, bacon-flavoured “crisps” are a bit confusing, and British chocolate is too good (even the inexpensive kind). With that, I shall sign off. Until tomorrow… hopefully. Look out for reports on fish and chips and more pub action.

Hyde Park.

Look what we found…

2 for 1.

Seeing as I have unsurprisingly skipped a day of blogging, I shall backtrack and cover 17 through 18 May in one fell swoop. And then some.

17 May, we took a bus tour of London and went through Westminster Abbey. The bus tour was pretty humorous, mainly because of our colourful guide, Liz. Among other things, she insisted that Prince Harry is not Charles’ son and there is no “downtown” in London (nor are there any malls- they leave that to the Americans). Fun fact: apparently the former pie shop of THE Mrs. Lovitt, of Sweeney Todd fame, is now home to a McDonald’s. It’s nice to know they’re keeping up the tradition of serving mystery meat…

Westminster was lovely, and no, the trees from the royal wedding were no longer standing. We did learn, however, that the actual ceremony itself took place on a mosaic floor (roped off from the public) dating back to the 12th century. Stunning. Also, it appears that tourists have a bit of a fetish for breaking the fingers off figurines and statues throughout the Abbey, as countless were missing one, if not multiple, digits. It was also lovely to find out that Henry James is NOT buried in the Abbey, and we gleefully stomped on his commemorative plaque on the floor. We have no shame. Finally, the throne on which all English monarchs have been crowned (even today) dates back to the 13th or 14th century (the exact century escapes me). After the tour, we were literally dumped in the middle of Central London, left to our own devices.

We stumbled around for a bit, the other girls grabbing some beer while we contemplated dinner. We ran into Wyndham’s Theatre, where we will be seeing a spectacular play this Tuesday (Much Ado About Nothing), and finally found Jamie (Oliver)’s Italian, which specializes in homemade pasta they make fresh, daily. I had the cockles linguine, which had some butter, garlic, chili flake, lemon, and these beautiful cockles (tiny clams). It was deliciously simple, and all-around lovely. It is quite tempting to return just for pudding.

Tip: One of the guys we met, Patrick, learned that if an American wants to find out the location of the nearest cashpoint, the only foolproof way to get the correct and quick answer is by rudely shouting “Oi! Where’s a cash till?!” at a policemen in an obnoxious English accent. Because asking in an American accent will only reap incorrect directions and annoyed Brits not wanting to bother with the tourist. Bravo, sir.

18 May we had our first class, which came with a semi-hideous quiz, and ended quickly enough. Kristin and I discovered Kensington High Street, which is the home to any shop that comes to mind. I purchased my L’Occitane verbena soap (yay!) and found this gorgeous blue silk dress that I had no reason to even try on or purchase. Oh well (for the record, I did neither). We had lunch at this place called Pret a Manger, which sells a lot of pre-made, but I believe organic, freshly-made, natural sort of sandwiches, wraps, salads, and pastries for a bargain. We need Pret in the states…

In the evening, we travelled across the Thames, where we attended As You Like It at Shakespeare’s Globe. In short, the play was absolutely magnificent, despite the fact that we were pathetic little groundlings in the standing section. I also had the requisite semi-rude tall chick standing halfway in front of me, blocking my view from time to time (as always happens in these sort of events). Let’s just say dinner beforehand was not so fantastic, and that everyone else quickly learned why I turned down the house wine. Jumping back, I could indeed gush about the play, alas I do not wish to bore you all with the details. Clara and Kristin were quite smitten with a couple of the actors, though, and the inclusion of musical numbers was surprisingly successful and well done. Oh, the wonders of theatre in the round…

Photo Credit: Kristin D’Souza

19 May, Part I: After our second class, Kristin and I went to this little cafe with a girl we met in class (Katie), and moved on to Waitrose, a fantastic grocery store akin to AJ’s + Bristol Farms on steroids. The variety was magnificent, and I could honestly spend hours there just looking around. The most entertaining section is that containing yoghurt, custard, and other puddings. They had, I kid thee not, all sorts of chocolate mousse, crazy flavours of yoghurt (hazelnut, champagne rhubarb, or clotted cream fudge, anyone?), pre-packaged trifles, cheesecakes, pots de creme, and so much more. They also had Poilane bread, diced coconut, goat milk, and smoked duck slices. Oh, and the bacon. The fantastic, British bacon. I’ll just leave it at that.

Later, Kristin, Clara and I attempted to pop on over to the Natural History Museum. The bus driver fooled us, and dropped us off not at the Natural History Museum, but the V & A. We are aware that they are next door to one another, but we just went into V & A, anyway. The V & A was really fun, full of incredibly ancient artifacts from (at least what we could gather) mostly Asia and the Middle East, with some things from Greece, Rome, and Western Europe. The Middle Eastern rugs alone were worth the trip, as was the fact that I finally saw an astrolabe in person (thank you, history books). I joyfully purchased a tiny little silk coin purse (1 quid!) into which I can, shocker, store my numerous British coins (their jingling at the bottom of my purse is highly irritating, hence my remedy). Their cafe was very nice, and we each got a coffee and “nibbles” like scones with clotted cream and marmalade, millionaire’s shortbread, and pain au chocolat. Unfortunately, we were quickly asked to leave, as apparently the museum was suddenly closing, and man do they shove people out when they want to close (ten minutes early, mind you!). ‘Twas like a mass exodus from the museums at 10 ’til 6! We plan on going back to V & A (and the Natural History Museum, for that matter), as there is much more to see, and more beautiful things (namely architecture) to photograph. Look for Part II of 19 May, tomorrow. Until then, here are a few snapshots to whet your appetite:

London, baby! Yeah!

Greetings from London!

Yesterday (16 May) we hopped on a flight in Phoenix and flew across the pond, landing at Heathrow about 20 minutes early, which was nice. I must say, though, that the seats were incredibly cramped, so we were all quite thankful for it to have ended sooner than expected. British Airways also deserves a round of applause for offering pretty decent tea and serving a palatable curry for dinner. Breakfast, however, was not as appealing. I suppose they couldn’t win at everything.

Immediately after landing, we grabbed our bags, went through customs, and waited a bit for our coaches to take us to the flats in Kensington, London. The area in which we are staying is very posh, and I would estimate roughly 95% of the buildings in this area still have their gorgeous, “unimposing” Victorian facades, which certainly promotes complete immersion in their history and a sense of glamour. Glamour aside, and with barely 15 minutes to get settled in our rooms, we waited patiently for the rather tiny lift to get our bags upstairs,  and returned downstairs for our “orientation” soon thereafter. Planning itself for the orientation and the way in which we were shuffled from Heathrow to London proper was not too smooth, in complete honesty. We hideously took up the entire sidewalk wherever we went, incensing the locals, practically screaming AMERICAN TOURISTS (not that our accents would give us away). Our RA Sian (like Shawn) guided us through a miniature tour of our little patch of London, showing us where to buy groceries, the location of the post office, and of course our classrooms. Classrooms! It turns out that I was indeed mistaken about our classes, thus they are in fact taking place in a classic brick and mortar classroom, with smatterings of in-field lectures when fitting. We had a lovely little chat about security, how to travel around the city, and the like, and were off on our merry way to do whatever our hearts desired.

It seemed that the majority of our rather nutty peers simply wanted to go out to the pubs and drink beer for the rest of the night. At this point, the jet lag had begun to set in, so Kristin (hi Kristin!) and I opted to do our own thing, popping over to a grocery store to stock our flat (more on this in another post), fiddle around on the internet for a while, then stroll around trying to find somewhere to eat. As luck would have it, we stumbled upon The Pembroke, which I at first thought was a Gordon Ramsay pub (it turns out that it is not). Regardless, it was pretty great. I had a steak pie with mash and excellently cooked green beans, and a glass of Shiraz-Cabernet. Lovely. It was very cozy, decently priced, and rather enjoyable.

My sleep cycle is still very off-kilter, as is to be expected, so we shall see how I fare today (17 May). On the schedule, we have nothing until about 1 pm, when we will then embark on our tour of a larger swath of Central London and run through Westminster Abbey. More to come (with pictures)!

“I was thinking of very old times…

…when the Romans first came here, nineteen-hundred years ago.”

Certainly Joseph Conrad had a way with describing how incredibly ancient, and seemingly timeless the British Isles remain. Many of us can trace our ancestry back to those very shores… perhaps that is the draw. Thus, I shall embark on a bit of my own journey, certainly not into the heart of darkness (let’s not get too dismal, here), but one for educational purposes, entertainment, etc. For the uninitiated, my study abroad trip is to last for a total of six weeks, and is conducted through Barrett, the Honors College at Arizona State University. Studies include two courses, HON 378: Culture and Society in England, Ireland, and Scotland, and HON 379: Romantics, Victorians, and Moderns in England, Ireland, and Scotland- the Response to Nature and Science. These courses will be taught by two Barrett professors, not in a traditional brick-and-mortor style setting, rather in a fashion I would describe as on-site, in a bit of an archeological spirit (though less invasive).

I will be in London, England from 16 May through 7 June. 7 June marks a flight to Dublin, Ireland, where I will spend eight days, flying to Edinburgh, Scotland on 15 June. I will spend the remainder of my time in Edinburgh, returning to the United States on 27 June. I will update you all on my whereabouts, activities, experiences, and whatnot as I travel, hopefully with due diligence, as I am prone to lacking consistency when it comes to writing in journals, blogging, and the like. Do bear with me if this is not a daily exercise, though I will try my hardest to make it so. There will be both written reflections, if you will, and a great number of photographs uploaded to this blog, so I do imagine that it will be somewhat entertaining for those of you reading.

With that, I shall sign off. See you all in five days!

P.S. If you have any suggestions about where I should go, or what I should do, feel free to email me (cecurtis@asu.edu) or contact me through the lovely Facebook page. Feedback would be appreciated, as well, as would some contact with my mates back home. I believe you can comment on posts. On that note, as well, I do have a Skype account set up (with no idea how to work it- help!), and my phone will be operational overseas (for limited use only, please). Ta!