Friday Feb 25th
My first full free day in London for a long time!! So in the morning I went with my roommate Mary, her cousin that was visiting, and some other girls down the street to Buckingham Palace (woah...didn't realize it was THAT close to the Vandon House, I shouldn't take the tube so much) to see the changing of the guard.
Well...we learned our lesson.
If you want to see the changing of the guard on a weekend....arrive at least an hour early!
couldn't. see. a. thing.
Okay, that's a lie. We saw a lot of people's heads. yep.
And I guess we did see the band that marched in better than those smooshed by the gate.
We decided not to stay because we couldn't see anything and we walked over to Trafalgar square, past St. James' Park. We were surprised to get a close up view of the horse guards on their way to join the changing of the guard though...so that was cool!
GORGEOUS Day outside!!! Hello Sun!!
Here I split off from the group to go finish an assignment for British Experience Seminar.
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| SO. MANY. PEOPLE! |
Assignment 4: The Back Streets of Holborn
First I went to Number 13 Lincoln's Inn Field, Sir John Soane's Muesum. However, I noted Mark's comment that students in the art class would visit this museum, so I didn't go in. Later when I looked at my Art in London syllabus, I discovered that no, we do not go to this museum. So...I need to return sometime to go inside. lol
Next I went into the Lincoln's Inn Field park...which was basically the size of a city block. Since it was such a lovely sunny day out, many people were taking their lunch on the benches and/or walking their dogs.
I saw the plaque in the place that was the Canadian Air Force's European Headquarters during WWII with the Canadian Maple tree commemorating the Canadian airmen who died in this war. I took a moment of silence and then walked around the park a little bit.
After that I crossed the street into the grounds of Lincoln's Inn. It is one of the Inns of Court were all of London's "barristers work and practice law....These inns have had former members such as Oliver Cromwell, Mahatma Gandhi, Charles Dickens, and Margaret Thatcher on their legal rosters."
I felt rather out of place walking around such an area. The grounds and architecture were very pretty though, with more open spaces and green areas than most places in central London. I enjoyed walking around the small gardens/parks and the narrow streets.
I went inside the Lincoln's Inn Chapel and that was cool. The ground level was kind of a large stone canopy over a "stone graveyard." The ground was covered in stones etched with the names of those buried there. I kind of felt weird having the floor as a gravesite...especially when the church was directly above it. I went up the stairs to see the interior of the church and felt at peace. It was a smaller chapel with stained glass windows and dark wood pews...but it felt homey and I was the only one there. So I sat for a time and had some quiet time in prayer. It was SO quiet in that chapel...something I miss. It was very nice to have that alone quiet time.
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| Lincoln Inn Chapel |
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| The stone canopy I mentioned...with dead people in the floor |
When I left I made my way past the huge High Courts of Justice (the highest civil court in England) and crossed a busy street into Middle Temple Yard. This area was kind of neat in itself with narrow back streets and buildings. I found my way to the Temple Church and went inside. "The Temple Church was founded in 1185 by Heraclius, the Patriarch of Jerusalem...800 years of history! from the Crusaders in the 12th century, through the turmoil of the Reformation and the founding father of Anglican theology, to some of the most famous church music in London." In fact when I was there, an organist played the entirety of the time I was inside. It was nice to just sit and listen to the organ music for awhile before leaving and going back to Vandon House. I also stopped inside St. Clement Dane's Church on my way back. It was a neat military or naval (something like that) church.
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| Inside Temple Church...you can see the organ on the left |
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| Temple church |
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| St. Clements? |
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| the outside of St. Clements |
Wow...
I'm convinced that this random urge was actually God leading me here at just this particular time. When I entered the high roofed church of St. Martin-in-the-Fields, there was a small orchestra at the front rehearsing for their Mozart concert. I was able to sit in a pew and watch and listen for half an hour. Perfect. Music always helps me to focus on the more important things in life...so I just sat and closed my eyes and had some more prayer time and just space to think. Also...stringed instruments make me swoon. I could have curled up on the pew and fallen asleep listening to their beautiful sounds.
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| you can kind of make out the ensemble at the front of the church |
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| St. Martin's church |
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| This is the second time I've seen this particular street performer in front of the National Gallery. lol...they like to be statues. |
I finally made it through one wing and I had barely entered another when I overheard a guy nearby me ask what time the gallery closed. I politely told him what time...because they close later on Fridays. I went back to looked at the painting in front of me but the same guy curiously asked if I was from North America (obviously noticing my accent). I said yes...that I was from the United States to which he wanted to know where because he has connections there. Iowa. Oh! that surprised him. For some reason it always does surprise people here when we say we're form Iowa. lol!
I got the usual questions about why I'm here and what I'm studying. But I thought that would be the end of the conversation.
Nope...he continued on asking deeper and deeper questions...not in a creepy "I'm going to seek out where you stay and rape you" kind of way...he was just making friendly conversation. However, after quite a few minutes of this...it started to seem kind of rude.
Because everytime there was a break, I'd look back at the painting in front of me to finish "looking at it" (it was pretty, and I like to take my time looking at the details)...but before I knew it...he'd say something else!! And of course...I didn't want to be rude myself and leave or blow him off...so I politely stood there and answered questions...not giving too much information out of course...and listening to what he had to say. This cycle continued and I couldn't move on from this one painting until I finally decided I'd just have to come back to it later when he was gone.
Apparently he was meeting a friend and was waiting there for this person. So he had time to blow...and well, so did I...but I didn't want to spend it talking with him! I came to look at art and he was interfering. No, he wasn't some ugly old guy. He had darkish skin and looked like he was in his 30's. But believe me...I was not interested at all. lol. And from the things he said...he didn't sound like he was "flirting"...but because he chatted with me for so long, it makes you wonder doesn't it? Overall, it just put me in an awkward situation where I had to try to politely end the conversation so I could move on. This is the first Londoner I've met that has been so flipping chatty!!
It just really bothered me that he didn't care at all whatever my agenda or schedule was...he just talked and talked. And the questions he asked! Very personal and deep. He got into politics and asked if I was a Democrat or Republican, if I liked Obama and why, did I vote...stuff like that. If you know me...you know politics is not a language I speak at all...so this made me very uncomfortable. Plus..you don't ask a stranger you just met this kind of stuff. At least not in America. >: ( He also asked me "deep art questions"...like what does art mean to me, how this painting and the colors make me feel, and random crap like that...to which I kind of just stuttered random thoughts and sounded like a blathering idiot. Excuse me sir...I didn't come here to be quizzed! Besides...those kind of questions have answers that I can't exactly put into words in a conversation...mainly because they are such deep emotional subjects for an art nerd like me that I could go on and on if I had even had the time and the vocabulary. (If you have known me for awhile and have been reading my blog...you've probably noticed that I tend to "write" my feelings and thoughts much better than I can speak them). I didn't have time to think and edit my answer like I can on paper. Awkward. Interfering. Uncomfortable.
Annoying.
I managed to keep all these emotions from showing their ugly heads and eventually said that I needed to move on (when he gave me a chance to even say the words).
I was upset that I couldn't finish looking at this one painting because he was there and I went in to the next room...to which he also went. And even though he didn't speak to me and was a few paintings away...I was so worked up and couldn't focus on looking at the artwork that I just decided to leave the gallery and come back to finish walking through another day.
I just kept thinking about the personal and deep questions he asked me and how I had such a hard time answering. It really bothered me.
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| the Gallery and Trafalgar Square fountains at night. |
Eventually, after hanging out in a friends room for awhile...I got my mind off of it and started thinking more seriously about packing for my trip to Barcelona. I was scheduled to leave bright and early the next morning. So I packed my stuff and started looking into buses/trains that would take me to the airport. The problem is...I would have to leave Vandon by 4 a.m. to get to the airport...and I didn't know what transportation ran that early in the morning to get me there. I ran into some problems trying to book a train to the airport online and after freaking out a bit I finally just went and asked the gal at the reception desk. Gatwick Express...of course. So I got that booked but then had to wait an hour to actually print it off the computers in the lounge. Guh. Then, since I wasn't going to get up at 3 a.m. to take a shower...I just decided to take one then. So....with good intentions of going to bed early so I wouldn't be AS tired come 4 a.m.....my plan totally failed and I got about 3 hours of sleep before my weekend stay in Barcelona. Fantastic....meh
A couple friends graciously walked me to the train station the next morning. You just don't walk by yourself at that time of day...especially if you're a young girl.
So! My next post will be about my trip to Barcelona!!
Stay classy my friends!
~Merely Mortal~
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