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.