The World of Stuff .com

I see London, I see France

Saturday was pretty quiet. Andy slept until 4 in the afternoon, so instead of going out, we made pancakes. Actually, he made one big pancake that we cut up and ate. Not much later there was lamb for dinner. We don’t really eat lamb in the States, but I don’t know why not. It tastes like beef.

On Sunday, Andy slept late again. He can sleep forever as long as nothing wakes him up. I convinced him that we should go out, but I wasn’t really sure what we could do. We ended up wandering around London for a few hours in the afternoon. We came across a war memorial in Trinity Square, which is near Tower Hill, which is near the Tower of London. Europeans take the World Wars very seriously.

The next day, as you might have guessed, was Monday. I woke Andy up at 5:30 PM. He made soup. Later, he decided to hang out with one of the guys we had met at the London Esperanto Club, but I didn’t feel like going. I was dead set on going to a pub and having fish and chips. So we decided to meet outside a pub near the house later that night. Even though I called Andy, he didn’t show. His cousin (whose house we were staying at) found both of us as he was driving around; Andy was going home instead of meeting me at the pub. The pub was closed by then, but I was just glad to get a lift home.

Tuesday was supposed to be our last day in England, but we had found that we could get a better price on the train to Paris if we bought our tickets a day in advance rather than on the same day. We asked our hosts if we could stay another night, and it wasn’t a problem. Andy was still sleepy, and there were some things I wanted to do in London before we left, so I went out by myself.

Can you guess what country I’m in?

First, I went to Westminster Abbey.

Beside kings, queens, and at least one saint (who was also a king), a lot of notable Britons are buried there, so I thought it would be interesting to see. Photography isn’t allowed inside, so I didn’t take any photos (unlike some people). Instead, you’ll just have to take my word for everything. Cool? Cool.

Okay, so I knew that there were lots of dead people in Westminster Abbey, but I had no idea how crammed full of tombs it was until I got inside. When you walk in, there are memorials on the left and right sides. They go all the way back to the front door, so that the ticket booth is in front of several sculptures. I was wondering where the actual graves were until I looked down and saw that I was standing on some. They’re marked on the floor all over the place, and many of them are of peple you haven’t heard of from way back during the time when the Abbey wasn’t so crowded. Space seems to be at a premium now.

It was interesting to see the graves of bygone monarchs like Elizabeth I, but I was especially interested in Poets’ Corner, the famous section where the literary types are interred. That’s where you’ll find Robert Browning; Alfred, Lord Tennyson; some other people; and Lawrence Olivier. But the greatest of the great, it seems, are buried in the Nave of the abbey. The famous sculpture of Isaac Newton flanked by cherubs marks the spot where he’s buried there. Of special significance is the tomb of the unknown soldier of World War I. As I was wandering around this holiest of holies, I remembered reading that Charles Darwin had been buried here and wondered where he was. Then I looked down and didn’t need to wonder anymore.

Next, I went to the National Gallery, an art gallery in Trafalgar Square.

Admission is free, so I figured it would be fun to check out. I didn’t know that one of my favorite paintings, the Arnolfini Portrait, was there, as well as several others I had heard of. They also (if I recall) had works by Raphael, El Greco, van Gogh, Monet, and Renoir. I spent most of my time looking at Renaissance-era paintings that were religous in nature. I wish I could have seen everything there, but the museum was going to close soon, and I was getting tired.

I was also getting hungry, so I returned to the cafe on Whitehall where Andy and I had gotten sandwiches a few days before. I had the fish and chips this time. Even though it wasn’t the cafe’s specialty, I had to say that I had fish and chips in England. I came up about a pound short on the bill and had to ask for money from some other American tourists in the restaurant. Frig, why didn’t I just use plastic? Of course I think of that now.

Finally, I set out for Greenwich to see the Royal Observatory, the place that the Prime Meridian is defined to run through. I’m not sure how many other people would want to go to the Prime Meridian; it seems like a boring Jordon thing. It’s kind of out of the way from central London, so it took me a while to get there by train, but it was worth it.

As the sun was setting, I made it to Greenwich, which is a quaint little place on the south bank of the Thames, across from the Isle of Dogs. I made my way to Greenwich Park, where the observatory can be found atop a hill.

The observatory was closed, but I was able to peer through the gates to see the “Prime Meridian of the World” sign. Apparently, I had already crossed into the Eastern Hemisphere without realizing it. Fortunately, a short section of the meridian was marked outside the gates, so I paused for the inevitable photo op.

Thus ended my romps in London. Yesterday, Andy and I were getting ready to leave, but we didn’t have much time because we weren’t supposed to make noise while Andy’s cousin was giving a yoga lesson. In fact, she invited us to join her, and we obliged (well, I obliged). Never having done yoga before, I was of course not very flexible, but apparently I’m a natural squatter. Toward the end, I was advised to stop and just breathe while closing my eyes and sitting yoga-style. You know, “Om…” Apparently I impressed everyone with my ability to sit still. Thanks?

After that, Andy and I took a train to Paris and left our gracious hosts and the rest of London behind.

The first thing I really noticed about England (besides the weather) was how the people lived. On the train from the airport, I saw endless rows of little English houses all squeezed together on winding streets. People seem to live that way everywhere around London. The house in Mill Hill was like that too. Andy’s relatives told me it was 135 years old. Mill Hill was kind of suburban but still quaint. The high street (main street) had lots of shops, and people apparently lived above them, even if the place was a Subway.

Speaking of which, the cultural differences were really apparent at times. I would see signs that said “Subway,” but I knew they couldn’t be referring to the underground train system because that’s called the Underground. It turns out that a British subway is a pedestrian tunnel under a road. Who knew?

During my stay, I got some lessons on British words and phrases. I learned (or learnt) a bit about soccer (or football). I tried English tea (which tasted the same as any other tea) and found out that Heinz salad cream (salad dressing) is delicious on baked potatoes. And I had my fish and chips. London was a good experience, and I’m glad we could stay in a place that felt like home.

The Channel Tunnel, or Chunnel, is a feat of modern engineering, but it isn’t very interesting to go through. Andy slept through it and didn’t believe me when I told him we were already in France. I told him to look at the roads we passed by and verify that cars were driving on the right.

We arrived in Paris in the late afternoon and had a heck of a time trying to get to the hostel we had booked. It can be hard to get around in a new city when you don’t speak the language. All I really know how to say in French are “Hello”, “I don’t speak French”, “Do you speak English?”, and “Thank you”. But we did find the place, so we are now enjoying (i.e., having) our first hostel experience.

There’s a room on the ground floor with a bar, a kitchen, and some tables. It’s also a good place to use the Wi-Fi (which we have to pay for, so I’m writing this post offline). Andy was checking his e-mail here last night when he got a message from one of his Esperanto contacts. It was an invitation to an Esperanto gathering at a cafe downtown. Of course, we went.

There were at least a dozen Esperantists there; most of them were Parisians, but I did see several Japanese visitors as well. Everyone was friendly, and I didn’t have too hard of a time understanding them. Some people left, but those of us who remained went to an Italian restaurant and chatted it up. They spoke to the waiter for Andy and me. Suddenly, this strange new city wasn’t so scary after all. We had friends.

Andy and I returned to the hostel and slept. I’m a light sleeper, so I didn’t appreciate that one of the people in our room woke up at 5:15 in the morning and spent at least half an hour making lots of noise, including answering a call on her cell phone. She also left the light on even when she seemed to have left the room. After that, I slept better.

We got up this morning for free breakfast and then had to be out for the day. To encourage guests to go outside and become responsible young persons, the hostel closes from 11 AM to 3 PM. They also make sure that the place is dirty and disgusting so you never want to be there. I am glad we won’t be here much longer.

Anyway, we went out and met an Esperanto friend that Andy had made online. He was a nice guy, and he brought his friend who didn’t speak Esperanto but did speak English. We went to a small skate park and Andy tried his hand at skateboarding; I, valuing my high number of non-broken bones, knew better than to try. But a pleasant time was had by all.

After that, Andy and I went Sacre-Coeur, a beautiful church that sits high on a hill overlooking Paris.

Next, we went to Place de la Concord and walked down the Champs-Elysses to the Arc de Triomphe. It was hard to get a good picture because the sun was behind it. That didn’t stop me from making a weird face at the camera, though.

And that was today. Tomorrow, we’ll be leaving the hostel and staying with an Esperantist as we see more sights around Paris. Stay tuned…