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| London | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ... the first day... | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Love by iconography | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Do you know what is swell about London? I do. Every expectation you have of it, from whatever basis � be it Mary Poppins 23 Cherry Tree Lane or a place called Wapping, MI6 and Baker Street, old men in wigs using words like Oiyea and shed-yule or fem-bots dancing down Trafalgar Square - all those images you were fed about your London-centric media as a kid - somewhere along the line you are bound to meet it to one degree or another. And every time it does, it�s completely unexpected. That is what is swell about London. |
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| West by Westminster | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| We pulled into our little hotel on Warwick Way, smack in the middle of Westminster, around noon and had a few hours to kill before we were scheduled to tour Parliament. We decided that not knowing how far it was, we ought to check it out and be very early, and then sort of have a gander around the area. This proved to be quite nice, actually. We made our way about a mile or so to the Palace of Westminster (aka the Houses of Parliaments) and because of the similar gothic architecture, dumbly mistook it at first as being the abbey of Westminster, then had a cozy little picnic in the park behind it, overlooking the Thames. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Westminster Abbey from the awning at St. Margarets | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Unfortunately the rain cropped up, so we decided to try and find somewhere to stay remotely dry, and not knowing where we were, ended up doing a full circle around Parliament, that is we walked over Westminster Bridge, down a good ways to the next available bridge, crossed that and returned. Deciding then that we had seen Parliament from every angle, at least the outside, we headed in the direction of Westminster Abbey � the queues were stretching to the square across the way, so we decided against it, and found a bit of shelter from the rain underneath the awning at St. Margaret�s Church, a tiny little building on the Abbey grounds that sort of pales in comparison as far as grandeur goes, but is still very quaint in its own way. Plus it gave me a few minutes to dry my booties, which is a-okay by me. After whittling away the time we made our way back to the Sovereign�s entrance of Parliament and dripping wet, cold and mildly disgruntled we were herded through security and met with a tour guide whom I swear was Michael York, or at least looking somewhat similar, but the voice was his. We were taken first to the prince�s chamber, in which the members of the House of Lords write whatever it is they write under the watchful eye of about 37 paintings of the Stuart and Tudor royal families. Then through to the actual chamber where we were instantly struck blind by the glimmer of the Queen�s sold gold chair � I won�t call it a throne, as it really just looks like a very, very shiny seat. We passed down the main alley between the two chambers, decked with a Cromwellian �Lord protector who cancelled Christmas� theme. And after rubbing the foot of Lloyd George (most rub Winston Churchill�s) we proceeded to the sort of bare-bones minimum conference room that is the House of Commons. To give you an idea of just how very not-formal this room is, it�s supposed to seat the 600 plus members of the House of Commons, however it only has room for 400, so everyone else gets to sit on the floor or sit on someone else�s lap. See, politics can be fun� The last room on the tour was the Westminster Hall, unchanged since the 1300s and void of anything really except an original hand carved wood roof, an old carriage the Queen used at her investiture, and all sorts of fun stories about torturing and murdering people like Guy Fawkes (famous would-be blower-up of Parliament) and William Wallace (famous Scottish patriot who did NOT wear blue face paint, thank you very much). We departed the palace through the Hall to be greeted by a most happy face � that of an illuminated clock tower against the now clear night sky and Big Ben (the bell) tolling across the city. I could have left right then and would have gone home happy as can be. Providing I didn�t get lost, mugged or hit by a double-decker on the way there� | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| the most famous clock in the world - shelided by Parliament (above) and alone in the night (below) | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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