Why My Life in London is Like Harry Potter

1. We have a class called History Of British Theatre that is so boring I almost fall asleep every week and is taught by an old man who shall not be deterred from his lesson no matter how bored/unconscious his students appear to be. Thus we call this class History of Magic and our tutor Professor Binns.

2. Since coming here I have eaten trifle, treacle, pasties, and many strange and delicious varieties of candy.

3. I take a wide assortment of classes all day long, all of which are somewhat baffling to me, and many of which either seem very frightening and dangerous or have actually resulted in an injury.

4. My black haired, hooked nose tutor is unnecessarily mean to everyone, but especially to me, and would rather be teaching a different class.

5. The school is run by an eccentric older man who makes brief, enlightening appearances into my life and then disappears again.

6. Every tutor is a unique kind of crazy, and seems perfectly suited to the strange subject they are teaching.

7. Every Monday, my flat is mysteriously cleaned by someone (or some-elf) I never have seen but who does a thoughtful and meticulous job.

8. My mail is delivered to me at school in “pigeon holes” which is basically the same as delivery by owl.

9. We have (K)Night Buses

Not convinced? Just ask me to do some magic when I get back to the US in June…

MOM in LDN

This past week I had a wonderful visit from my wonderful mother in the wonderful city of London. Other than being a well needed dose of unconditional love and support (much needed I realized since I spend most of my days being told what’s wrong with me and what I need to improve about myself, a little disheartening after a while), Mummy’s visit provided me with the excuse and the means to do some very touristy things in London. She arrived last Wednesday, met me for lunch and dinner each day and patiently waited for me to be freed from LDA for the weekend. This time was not totally wasted since we did in our wandering discover a delightful cupcake shop, which has shown me that if I try hard enough I can find cupcakes anywhere—Auntie Em’s in Eagle Rock, The Shoppe in Denver and now Buttercup in Kensington—even though I had been told that cupcakes don’t exist in London. On Saturday, we started off our grand tour of London with the ultimate tourist activity: the London Eye. When the Eye was built it apparently was a major point of contention, some people loving it but many others arguing that it ruined the London skyline. Personally, I love the Eye. I think it adds a very modern but still unique and whimsical new sight to the Thames South Bank. Therefore, I was very excited to take a spin. For how pricey and how sort of blatantly tourist oriented the Eye is, if you haven’t done it, do it the next time you are in London. You can see so many of the most famous London landmarks on the ride that what should be very boring (30-40 minutes moving slowly in a circle) is endlessly fascinating and feels much too short. After the Eye we wandered down the South Bank (in all honesty, in search of a Starbucks), crossed the Millennium Bridge from the Tate Modern and crossed to St. Paul’s, found a tube stop and made our way to Portobello Road. Hopefully you have all seen the Disney classic Bedknobs and Broomsticks, but if you haven’t (and you really should—it’s like a Mary Poppins knock-off) here is a sampling of the most memorable song from the film and the main reason that I wanted to visit the Portobello Road market. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zqY1lHJYIgY Like Camden Market (which I visited last weekend, and which was described to me by one Lucky Gretzinger as “Portobello Road with freaks”) Portobello Road is an endless line of jewelry, antique, clothing, food and misc. stalls and tables with some of the best shopping in one place.
Truly “Portobello Road, Portobello Road Street where the riches of ages are stowed Artifacts to glorify our regal abode Are hidden in the flotsam in Portobello Road You’ll find what you want in the Portobello Road”. That seemed like quite enough for one day. On Sunday we got up bright and early and made out way to the Tower of London. My knowledge of the Tower of London before this point came from references in literature and movies, mainly when people are sent there to be gruesomely killed. This was it turns out a pretty accurate impression, but there is some interesting history of the building and succession of monarchs. After the Tower—basically the original permanent palace in London built by William the Conqueror—we went to see Buckingham Palace. This was probably one of the best visits I’ve ever received (despite the fact that British TV conspired against us and prevented us from watching the Oscars). Anyone else who wants to come pay me a delightful visit, please feel free.

Westminster Abbey

On Tuesday I was taken on a walking tour, by our Shakespeare Tutor/Tour Guide/GoogleLondon Michael Winter, to Westminster Abbey. For whatever reason, this was never a sight high on my list of things to see in London. Big Ben, yes. The London Eye, yes. Hyde Park, yes. Buckingham Palace, yes. Westminster, not really. In all honesty, my main point of reference for Westminster Abbey is from the book The DaVinci Code, in which the protagonists go there to solve riddles, and though I do enjoy a good riddle, I was not terribly drawn to the place. Once we got to the Abbey though, I started to understand the hype. The architecture in London is amazing—it is totally different than I have seen in any other city, and it is generally grandiose and beautiful—and Westminster is an unbelievably beautiful sight to see surrounded essentially by offices and Tescos and Costa Coffees. We were each given a yellow button with a cross on it to gain admittance and walked into the quire. For anyone who has never been to Westminster, though it is very beautiful, there is a strange combination of architecture from many different eras, starting with the original built by William the Conqueror in 1066 (William built it to placate the Pope who had told him to go on a crusade if he re-conquered England) to repairs and additions made in the Victorian Era.
You can clearly see where different times have added to the building, but apparently each architect had enough respect for the current building and enough foresight to stay within the same aesthetics. Inside the cathedral is both lovely and unsettling; it’s a strange contrast to be walking through white stone, gilded objects and stained glass, while with every step you take you have stepped on the remains of some important figure of British history. Everyone who’s anyone is buried in Westminster. The most notable exception is Shakespeare, who has a huge monument anyway. Again, going in, I didn’t expect that seeing all these graves would affect me as much as they did, but as I was standing in the room with what there is left on this world of Queen Elizabeth I, I found myself a little emotional. More moving still, for me at least, was the Poet’s Corner, where almost every major British literary figure is buried. Basically, all of my favorite writers are represented here: T.S. Eliot is there (and he is technically American, but the British always seem to claim him…), The Brontë sisters, Geoffrey Chaucer, Jane Austen. I wrote something in my journal after this trip that seems pretty wise so I’ll write it here: about the Poet’s corner “it is interesting to think that only in death and in libraries can all these men and women exist in the same room.” I think that is the main point of Westminster Abbey—it’s like a British History class on fast forward. Not for the first time, my feeble, young American brain had a hard time wrapping itself around the idea of 1000 years of history all in the one location. 1000 years of monarchs and politicians and artists and scientists all in one place. Americans really don’t have the same sense of history, but it’s not our fault; it’s just because we don’t have Westminster Abbey four Tube stops away from our home and on our walk to work everyday.

iTube

I thought I’d take a moment to talk about a major but easily overlooked part of my life in London: the Tube. After having lived in Los Angeles for the past two and a half years, a place with notoriously horrible public transportation, I was amazed at the ease and speed with which I would get around without a car. To ride the Tube, one must have an inexplicably named “Oyster card”, basically a debit card which you use to swipe in to the station at the start of your journey and then swipe out at the end, at which point, based on the distance and the time of day during which you traveled, a certain amount of money is deducted. It’s actually fairly expensive to ride the tube—I’m usually traveling during peak hours so my ride to and from school is £2.20 each way or approximately $3.30. Since my only other options are to take the bus (only about 40p cheaper than the tube, adding about 20 minutes of travel time but much more visually enjoyable) or to walk (for an hour, in the rain, wind and cold), I have so far chosen convenience over economy.
One of our first orientation meetings had to do with safety, specifically theft and theft on the Tube, and I have found myself behaving a little paranoid. We were told about thieves who can unzip your backpack, steal your wallet, your Oyster card, your mobile and zip your bag up again without your noticing, all while being jostled and crushed in the Tube. I see plenty of people with their iPods in their laps, using their digital cameras, not having a firm, vice-like grip on their bags at all times, all things that I, the very safety conscious, would never be so foolish to do. Other than this small paranoia, I do enjoy riding the Tube. Every ride provides an interesting sampling of the types of people to be found in London. There are noisy groups of students, anxious looking business types, little old British couples where the husband always makes sure that his wife has a seat, tourists with London guidebooks in various languages, families with strollers, struggling not to block the aisle and not to let the baby roll away, and very often someone with a guitar, just to add that extra bulk to the already crowded car. When the doors open we are all reminded to “Mind the Gap” as we hurry on our way.

Update: SNOW My God-a Snow Day!

Today we woke up to more snow than has fallen in London in 20 years, and an email informing us that school was cancelled! I wandered around our neighborhood since the Tube and the busses were all shut down. Here are some pictures from Little Venice and Regent's Park (and yes, these are pictures in the daytime Katie Davis, because this is the first time I've had free time while it was light out since I came here)

SNOW My God!

SNOW!!!!!