We did it. We woke up early and arrived at Westminster Abbey before it opened. That is no small feat for four people sharing one hotel room, one bathroom and two single beds. I did not know so many people were entombed at Westminster Abbey. It seemed that I could not take two steps without walking on someone’s gravestone. The intricacies of the 1000+ year old structure were humbling as were the memorials to children, royalty, poet laureates and most especially the unknown warrior. It was quite moving to read the epitaph on the gravestone that was surrounded by red flowers. Beneath this stone rests the body
Of a British warrior
Unknown by name or rank
Brought from France to lie among
The most illustrious of the land
And buried here on Armistice Day
11 Nov: 1920, in the presence of
His Majesty King George V
His ministers of state
The chiefs of his forces
And a vast concourse of the nation
Thus are commemorated the many
Multitudes who during the Great
War of 1914 - 1918 gave the most that
Man can give life itself
For God
For King and country
For loved ones home and Empire
For the sacred cause of justice and
The freedom of the world
They buried him among the kings
Because he
Had done good toward God and
Toward
His house
From Westminster Abbey we went to Shakespeare’s Globe, a recreation of the theatre where Shakespeare’s plays were put on.
None of us were very enthused to go on the tour, but it proved to be quite captivating. We learned lots of fun trivia about watching plays in Shakespeare’s day. For instance, there were seats behind and above the stage that cost six times more than the SRO tickets and three times more than the regular seats. People bought the seats because they went to the theatre to be seen. It was not uncommon for them to arrive 30 – 45 minutes late. When they arrived, the play would pause and the actors would catch them up. “I’m Romeo, He’s Mercutio – we’re best friends, about to fight some members of the Capulet family with whom we’ve had a longstanding rivalry...” Hilarious. Also, our guide told us that Shakespeare’s plays were laced with local references that only the most aware Londoners these days would catch. “A rose by any other name still smells as sweet,” is a clever illustration and a pun mocking a rival theatre called The Rose that sat on a street that’s sewers smelled awful. Donna and I picked out a cool poster that lists about 10 common phrases and their Shakespearean origin…it’s like Shakespeare’s take on the Jeff Foxworthy You Might Be a Redneck jokes. You’re quoting Shakespeare if…To see the actual poster and phrases you’ll have to visit the new house!
St Paul’s Cathedral was similar to Westminster Abbey, equally impressive and humbling. A little weary from reading about so many dead people, we spent a few minutes whispering silliness across the Whispering Gallery. It took several tries, but there is no mistaking the hilarious, falsetto voice of Dr Neff saying, “I can heeeeaarrrr yooouuu!” The whispering gallery was about half-way up to the top of the cathedral, so about 265 steps. It’s harder than it sounds. The trudging up the steps confirmed my discomfort with tight spaces and high places without high fences. I felt pretty crappy but think I may have looked worse (see Donna’s entry following). I was sweating bullets, my face was completely flushed and I felt terribly jittery. Maybe I’d fit in more with the urban men here with their hair product and murses (man purses). Here's a picture of my nightmare (thanks Curtis)
Donna took some great panoramic photos of London from the top of the cathedral so she thought the trip up was worth it.
After making our way down, we learned some about the Church of England’s Anglican Church and how it is still alive today with 170 million members. (I had to resist converting that 170 million to American.) They hold services daily at St Paul’s though the majority of the denomination is made up of Asians and Africans. The final point of interest in the Cathedral was the memorial to the Americans who lost their lives in World War II. In many of the sites we’ve visited, the strong relationship Britain has with the United States is on display but perhaps none more than there at St Paul’s.
All this we did before lunch. Amazing, eh?
We did the pub thing for lunch again. The friendly bloke who took my order and I had a bit of trouble communicating. I asked for filet (pronounced how you read it) of cod and he never heard of such a thing. After three tries I went to “the fish and chips” and he said, “Oh, the filet (pronounced fill-it).” I’ve found I don’t like soda in London so I usually go with a pint of whatever. My mind wasn’t quite made up and I was flustered from the filet fiasco so when the barkeep asked me what to drink I said, “a pint of something.” He said, “Well, that’s helpful.” I asked him to help me out and after telling Donna of our exchange she asked me to share it.
Him: Bitter or Lager
Me: Lager (does he know I haven’t a clue)
Him: You have four options. This one is overpriced, this one tastes like piss, this one is nicknamed the wife-beater due to the tendency of lads to act crazy after just two pints, this one is in the middle. Me: I’ll have the middle guy, thanks.
After we were sufficiently recharged, we trekked to Donna’s old stomping grounds from her summer at the University of London.
The British Museum was nearby so we went inside for about an hour though 45 minutes of the hour was spent trying to locate a usable toilet for the ladies. We were able to check out some of the Egyptian artifacts on display. Cold, wet, and tired, we called it a day.
We decided to send the Neffs back to Sweden in a three-way trade with America. It was great have someone to take pictures of Donna and me together…oh, and it was nice to see them as well. For our trade, we got Bonny, Steph and a group of tourists to be named later. We’ll let you know how that works out after the Contiki tour.
