Dumping Grounds

Well, here’s an update. Big headlines first.

• Internet in Paris was very hard to come by without spending massive amounts of Euros.
• Parisians are not nearly as rude as their reputations.
• One must be very careful when buying Eurostar (train) tickets, as they are on a 24 (not 12) hour clock.
• The French country-side does not honestly look that different than the Texas countryside. It really doesn’t.

The last two days have been in Paris, and I have had a good time. I already know of some vantage points I would like to take pictures from when I come back. The weather the first day was abysmal, the worst I have endured (even including the windstorm in London, which KILLED 18 people throughout Europe). It was a spectacularly uncomfortable combination of wind, rain, and a gray, dark sky that just seemed oppressive. Today could not have been a bigger contrast, as it was sunny, still cold, with a manageable breeze and not a cloud in the sky. I’m writing this from the chair of the Eurostar train from Paris Nord (North) to London Waterloo station. I hope I got some good pictures, I have been unable to look at them as of yet on anything larger than the 2″ screen of my camera. (Note: I have had a chance to load them on my computer… upon review, I am extremely hard on my own photos, and I have to admit that I am very pleased with the results from Paris)

While I said that what they say about the people in Paris I have not found to be true, what they say about the food unquestionably is. Rich, fattening, and completely wonderful. I have continued to try everything placed before me in every place I have gone to on this trip. The only thing I have found that I simply found inedible was mushy peas. Take perfectly good green peas, mash them like potatoes to bob them of every bit of texture they might have had when they were picked, and them plop it onto a plate beside fish and chips. That’s mushy peas. Didn’t care for them. However, during my time in Paris, I tried a variety of pastries, crepes (with chocolate, with ham and cheese, and even with Grand Marnier), ill-tempered sea bass with a laser beam on its head (ok, maybe there was no laser beam), scallops, escargot, more crepes, and a little delight called crunchy chocolate cake. Yes, it was. Crunchy that is. It is true that Parisians do not seem to eat anything that is not smothered in butter. Oh, and as Leah just pointed out to me, we also had a toasted ham and cheese sandwich with a twist that made it distinctly European (I’m not quite sure if this is French or not) as the cheese was on the outside. I’ll be happy to make one for anyone who wants one upon my return. And I also have had French Fries. In France. And yes, that is what they call them.

I must break from my extended love-letter about French food to point out that at this very minute, I am inside the Chunnel. That’s right, I’m underneath the English Channel (and no, I don’t know if that’s what the French call it). I can’t say much for the scenery, as it’s dark, and I can’t see a darned thing outside the train. So, lacking anything interesting to say about the Chunnel other than what a wonder of modern engineering it is, and the fact that I am at the moment in it, I’ll return to the travel update.

Paris questions: Yes, I saw the Eiffel Tower. No, the idea that you can see it from anywhere in Paris is not true. there are plenty of places that you cannot see it. Yes, I saw Notre Dame, walked not only to the top but also around inside and got to take pictures. (Side note for photography geeks: Stormy European cities and gothic cathedrals are dark, dark places. Never got the camera off ISO 1600, and even with that, and an Image Stabilization lens, I expect the vast majority of pictures to be quite blurry when I review them tonight.) Saw the Arc du Triomphe, and walked up and down the Champs - Elysees where the Tour de France ends each year. Quite impressive. Yes, I did tour the grounds of the Louvre, but did not go inside, as I am sure any description would not adequately convey how large that museum complex was. Definitely comparable to the Smithsonian in Washington. No, not the Air and Space museum… ALL of the Smithsonian. the Louvre just went on, and on, and on… building after building. Took many pictures of the outside.

Contrasts between London and Paris:

• Much more driving space in Paris. However, while I am sure it is governed by rules, the rules are beyond the comprehension of a simple traveler such as myself. The roundabouts in particular seemed to be a land governed by “he who has the most guts wins.” London, despite driving on the wrong side of the street, seemed to make (slightly) more sense. for my part, I’m not driving in either place. Thanks.
• For the most part, Londoners do not smile. Parisians do much more often.
• Most disturbing: I have previously discussed the fact that London schoolchildren do not seem to have classrooms. They are always on field trip. there are lots of London schoolchildren. Walking in London, one must always be on the lookout for the rampaging new mother with a stroller, as she is probably looking to take you out. In short there are LOTS of kids in London. However, I never saw a single pregnant woman. Not one. I did see children in Paris, but comparatively few. More along the scale of the number of kids one would see in the United States. In a much shorter time, however, I saw 2 pregnant women. I used my keen deductive reasoning skills to conclude that England must be raiding France for children. I see not other logical possibility.
• There are no Hilton sisters named London.

I have just exited from the Chunnel, and it appears as though I will live to see the sun another day. I didn’t really have any doubt, but then again, I was consciously not thinking about the amount of water that was on top on me while I was hurtling along in my (non-watertight) train cabin.

When on the Eurostar… announcements are always made FIRST in the native language of the country you are currently in. While in France, announcements were always French, then English. Now that we have crossed back over, is is English, then French. Cute. Not only am I running out of battery, I’m running out of things to say. I do have a couple of things I need to add about TERRIBLE table manners, but that may warrant an entry all its own.

As always, photography highlights have been posted to Flickr.

Nope, I’m not going to make 3,000 pictures, but I have taken quite a few so far.

Well, the bad news is that I seem to be catching a cold. I’m going to dose up on vitamin C and try to stay warm. I really don’t want to get a full-blown head cold. Right now it’s just a runny nose. I came home today and took a nap, and I am feeling better this evening.

Yesterday was a new record for walking. I took the tube over to Westminster, and after touring the Abbey, I just walked all the way over to St. Paul’s. So I guess yesterday was my “church” day. Both churches respectfully request that you not take pictures inside (not that there are any services going on, I think it’s to boost the postcard trade) so, despite the fact that everyone else ignored them, I did not. Hence, no pictures from inside either of the big churches.

I enjoyed the tour of each of them, in different ways. I thought both of them were more tasteful than St. Peter’s in Rome, but my sister disagrees on Westminster Abbey. All three are quite elaborately decorated. St. Paul’s is unquestionably the prettiest, unless you are into gaudy displays of gold… which, come to think of it, some people are.

I do wish I had a little more notice that I was coming over, and I would have read up on more of the history of the monarchy. I probably would have appreciated the tour of the churches more (because I would have known precisely who that monarch was that was buried there, etc.)

the other unique thing about St. Paul’s is that you can climb to the very top of the dome, and while I did not take pictures of the inside, I most certainly did when I was outside on the ledge. London, like just about any other big city, doesn’t look all that great from above.

On the way back, I had the pleasure to make the acquaintance of a self-professed crackhead named Paul. You see, he wanted to trade me hats (I was wearing my fedora). He was quite pleasant, and claimed to have a cousin who was a chauffeur in Dallas. He was explaining to me that he had been off drugs for 13 days (apparently a new years resolution). Well, except for alcohol, you see, his girlfriend had just walked off to go get some alcohol. Alcohol was fun, so that didn’t count against his pledge of no drugs. Crack was not fun, he explained. “Ah, so you have sworn off drugs that are not fun?” I asked. “Yes, so those hits of marijuana don’t count either, mate. Because that’s minor stuff. Yeah, marijuana is fun.” So he has been off of “non-fun” drugs for 13 days. I wish him luck. I also got the scoop on the magazine he was selling. Apparently there is a publisher over here who, as an attempt to put the homeless (or nearly homeless) to work, he publishes a magazine for that purpose. He sells it to people for 70p, then they can resell it on the streets for 1.50. Paul was quite proud that he was not begging. Sounds like a good idea to me, and it obviously made Paul enough money to keep him and his girlfriend in alcohol.

No, I did not trade hats, and no, he did not steal (nor attempt to steal), my wallet.

Today was spent at the National Museum, and my main task was to answer a question posed to me by my friend Lisa at work… “Why do the vast majority of the Greek statues left in museums in Athens have missing heads and genitals?” Apparently virtually all of these statues have signs on them, indicating that the remainder of the statue was in the British National Museum in London. (Begging the question, “Is there a room full of nothing but heads and genitals from Greek statues somewhere in the National Museum, and if so, can you tour it?”)

Well, my guess is that those signs in Athens are to gig the Brits a bit, because they want their statues back. And the Brits won’t give them up. (More on this below) Because guess what?

The statues in London are missing heads and genitals, too!

So, ever the interested scholar, I walked right up to a curator and asked. “I know that this is an odd question, but I am serious… where are all the heads and genitals? The Greeks say that you have them.”

Here’s the story.

Apparently, rank and file soldiers in the British armies did not have the same level of respect for history and art that their leaders did. While the leaders were loading up the statues for transport back to England, the soldiers where breaking off what they could to take as souvenirs. It doesn’t take too much imagination to guess what would be the most popular souvenirs. So the majority of the missing heads/genitals are missing, presumably lost forever. But the British museum is not hoarding them. I believed him. He seemed like an honest chap.

And it was fairly obvious that I was not the first one who had asked.

I will close today with some observations about British society:

• As far as I can tell, British schoolchildren do not have classrooms. Because they are always on field trip.
• There cannot be more coffee shops in Seattle than there are in London. There are several spots (with limited views, even) where you can see 2 Starbucks, and an assortment of other one-off shops.
• There was as much propaganda within the Allied troops in World War II as there was directed at them. From watching documentaries over here, looking at memorials, etc… Gen. Mongomery damn near won the European theatre himself, and may have done so more quickly if Eisenhower had listened to him a bit more. (For those who are not WWII buffs… that’s not exactly the same story that Americans have been brought up to believe)
• The British are cultural snobs to the core. There is a quite obvious display (with take home flyers) in the National Museum as to why they will not give the Greeks their statues back. It boils down to: We take care of them better than you could have, anyway. I am not denying the truth of this statement. The British have some reasons to be cultural snobs. It’s an impressive history, an impressive culture, and an impressive society. But c’mon… you stole their statues.

More pictures up (at least a few) in the same location:

London Flickr set

Did a lot more walking around yesterday, and then spent the evening watching Spamalot, the musical based on Monty Python and the Holy Grail. It was quite funny, although, like the movie, I thought it lost a bit of steam after it was about 2/3 over. I give it a 6… maybe a 6.5.

Today, however, was remarkably interesting as I walked through Hyde Park, saw the touching Diana memorial fountain (which is quite well done), the Albert memorial erected by Queen Victoria, and.. the event which I can only describe as incredible… Speaker’s Corner.

In 1872 (I think, I’m doing this from memory), Parliament established a location within London where free speech was absolute. As long as you did not incite a riot, you could say whatever you wanted. All I can say is that the idea has obviously caught on. I was treated by angry anti-American diatribes (which were interrupted by another “Free Hugs” man who felt that Americans were great and a rousing rendition of the Star Spangled Banner which didn’t seem to take the wind out of the old biddy’s sails one bit. She didn’t have much of an argument, she just hated Americans.

I also had the honor of meeting a man who didn’t seem to respond to anyone, but stood under an Israeli flag and sang “Rock of Ages.” There were a variety of (let’s call them non-mainstream) religious views represented, a man who was arguing on behalf of a world government, and a man with a horn on his head and an Arnold t-shirt that read “The Governator” who yelled at the top of his lungs that what the world needed was more beer.

It was awesome. It was a collection of heartfelt views and nutjobs like I had never seen before. I had a blast. Except for one, all of today’s photos are from Speaker’s Corner.

From there we headed to Greenwich, for lunch and to see the Royal Observatory. Lunch was great, and I have now been in a pub, downed a pint, and had fish and chips. Despite the warnings of my father, it was quite good. In keeping with my plan to try new things (especially food) I even ate the peas that came with the chips… not bad.

After that, I did all the touristy stuff that one is supposed to do in Greenwich. I had my picture taken in front of the “official” atomic clock. I had my picture taken straddling the Prime Meridian. I toured the museum that the Observatory has become (because, if you think about the weather… London may not be the best place for astronomical observation).

Upon returning from Greenwich, my sister and I were both beat, so we called it an early evening, called some friends, and am going to bed soon… although the slowest washing machine in the history of mankind may keep my up for a while.

Well, it appears as though the internet problems are at least temporarily gone.

So here’s a very quick recap…

• Had a nice lunch of noodles at a place called Wagamama
• Had a very nice talk all up and down the Thames
• Walked through Picadilly Circus and some other square I don’t remember the name of
• got the internet fixed
• walked an old lady across the street, and did what I could to enhance American-British relations
• had a very nice dinner of seafood
• planned tomorrow

There are some pictures up at Flickr. Just a few, but I’m not a pro member, so I’m trying to manage my uploads.

Yes, I’m safe and having fun.

Unfortunately, the internet in the flat is unbelievably slow. I would kill for a 300 baud modem.

Posting of photographs, unfortunately is out of the question until the connection improves or I come home. I do have some good pics from day 1, and I will post them as soon as I can.

ADDENDUM: I may have figured out some of the problem… but pictures will have to wait until later, I’m heading out into the spitting rain again