London, Day 2 (Wednesday)

Our second day, or first full day, in London dawned bright and sunny with a rare blue sky and fluffy white clouds. Our clothes were finally dried out from being caught in the deluge the night before (LOVE LOVE heated towel racks!) so we went off to explore.



Here's one reason I love London: it's never the same city twice. We did stuff today that I haven't done yet, and even if I'd seen it before, maybe I hadn't seen it under bright blue skies or from this angle or that. Anyway...first we headed over to Westminster to gape at the imposing gothic Houses of Parliament. I had investigated the possibility of getting in to Question Time but alas, parliament is not in session at the moment. The Abbey was closed for the morning so we stopped in the check out the Cabinet War Rooms and the Churchill Museum. The War Rooms are sets of fortified basement rooms used as a command center during WWII, and they're fully restored to look as they did during the war. It's a fascinating bit of history, and difficult to imagine a time when your own country is under seige...just hearing the air raid sirens gave me chills. I bought a postcard of a propaganda poster from the time which stated "Children are safer in the country...leave them there." I also bought one of my favorite poster: Keep Calm and Carry On.



After all that learnin' and thinkin', we relaxed and strolled through St. James Park to take a peek at Buckingham Palace. We stopped to recline in a couple of stripey beach chairs and people watch, but our snark and reveries were cut short but some fellow in an official-looking yellow vest demanding a pound fifty per chair for their use. We put on our best American accents and played the ignorant card, then quickly left.



I admit I'd not seen the palace in any of my previous London visits before, except from the back as my view from my Saudi-financed Hyde Park hotel suite, but that's another story (and another blog). The Palace happens to be one of the newer buildings in these parts (around 300 years old) and in itself isn't terribly impressive. The Russian tourists in velour track suits taking photos of their girlfriends in stiletto heels posing in every possible contortion in front of the palace were kind of distracting, although a bit more interesting and amusing than the palace.




By this point our feet were sore and we were hungry and exhausted and over-touristed (knackered, as they say over here), so we hopped back on the tube and headed for Brick Lane and a curry. The street was in stark contrast to the gaudy, loud, whitey touristy streets we had just come from. It's the home to a huge and lively Bangladeshi community, and our senses were assailed with the delicious smells of curry, the brightly colored fabric and sari shops, the gorgeous little sweets in the windows of the bakeries. Men in prayer caps poured out of a mosque. I would say that we didn't hear any English spoken on the street but that's pretty true for every London street. Anyway, we finally chose a restaurant and stuffed ourselves with papadom, chutneys, onion bhaji, and curries.



At this point I was well past ready for a nap (a kip, as they say over here) but Matt wanted to press on and head back to Westminster Abbey. I'm glad we did, although my aching feet tell a different story. The cathedral is impressive, but my favorite is still Yorkminster...more on that soon to come. I was most thrilled and moved to stand near the burial memorial to Queen Elizabeth I, being the Tudor history nut that I am. Matt experienced his religious moment at the graves for Isaac Newton, Charles Darwin, and some Faraday and Dirac dudes who are apparently pretty important. Literally standing on the shoulders of giants, I quipped.

Finally...back to our Earl's Court hotel room for a rest, then we ventured out later for some delicious Lebanese shwarma then a pint at our local. And shortly thereafter we both passed out.

Oof. Samuel Johnson said, "Why, Sir, you find no man, at all intellectual, who is willing to leave London. No, Sir, when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life." I do agree with him, but perhaps I it would be more appropriate to say "bored," because man alive, are we tired.