Trolling the Underground...
Trip Start
Sep 15, 2008
1
5
14
Trip End
Oct 06, 2008
London,
United Kingdom
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Yesterday we took a boat up the Thames to Greenwich, home of the Royal Observatory and the Prime Meridian Line (you stand with a foot in each hemisphere and have your picture taken by your companion; dutifully did that). We were herded by a guide from London Walks, an outfit Elisabeth Ptak told us about, and that really enriched our experience. Our guide was slightly built, 50ish, witty, and informative. Arch, even. She pointed out the main sights, gave us lots of history (about 30 of us, including a dreary group of American high schoolers who really didn't give much of a damn, though the parent chaperones did). After that, we were on our own. We climbed Observatory Hill, walked around Queen's House, and did a quick whip through the National Maritime Museum, which had a DELICIOUS exhibit on passenger ships--photos, menus, old china, mock-ups of cabins. Jerry rushed off to see Lord Nelson's uniform with the fatal bullet hole, I ran to the gift shop. We were thrown out at 5 pm. We made our way through a tunnel under the Thames to an above-ground light rail system and rode back into town. From the window of the train car, we saw exorbitantly expensive riverfront apartment buildings, as well as public housing projects with laundry hung from door to door and veiled Muslim women chasing children. What a contrast.
Today it was Tate Britain and the current Big Show: a retrospective of Francis Bacon, not my favorite painter, but there you are. Jerry, having watched the guy interviewed on a video, said, wide-eyed: "He is stark, raving mad." I had to agree. From the Tate, we went to Liberty, where I sinned badly with fabric after asking a clerk if there were chairs for husbands so my purchasing would not be supervised. Then back to Knightsbridge and this basement of young, mostly Middle Easterners, oblivious to everything but what they're reading in their respective computer screens. And us.
Odds and ends: The British can plant an extravagantly beautiful flower box ANYWHERE. The Underground is an unbelievable labyrinth, tunnel after tunnel you walk, dulled with fatigue and confusion. Exits are 'Way Out', not Exits. From my limited experience, I'd say London women in general dress with more edge than even New Yorkers. I'm quite impressed. Scarves are very big.
We leave our flat in 2 days. We will miss it. Last night I watched a reality program called "What the Bride Doesn't Know," which features a groom planning the entire wedding, right down to the bride's dress and makeup, without any input from her at all. Lots of tears and worry and biting of lips (bride). Groom nearly hysterical with responsibility (THAT was an interesting role reversal). I was so wound up when it was over , I went to bed. (Who would have thought of a Las Vegas-themed reception but a man?)
