Back Home & Unbalanced

It’s been a grand adventure, and now we’re home. Before we left we visited some of our favorite haunts—took a walk on Hampstead Heath, dropped into the Tate Modern and British Museum, ate at the Falafel King and our neighborhood favorite St. Chads Place—and hopped aboard the Eurostar for a two-hour train ride under the English Channel to Paris. Did we have fun? Do badgers dig holes in Kew Garden? Do foxes run free in London parks? Do the English love their beer? Rightie-o.

Tippy Chairs at the London Design Museum

Princess Diana Memorial Fountain

The debate between the familiar and innovation is ever present in London. This unique Memorial to Diana, Princess of Wales was opened in July 2004. Highly controversial as a memorial, the design by American landscape architect Kathryn Gustafson is a swirling, low oval loop of white granite set near the Serpentine pond in Hyde Park. The fountain contains 545 pieces of stone - each shaped by computer-controlled machines, but pieced together using traditional skills. The design aims to reflect Diana's life - water flows from the highest point in two directions as it cascades, swirls, and bubbles before meeting in a calm pool at the bottom. Most Londoners don't like it and criticize its lack of grandeur; critics have called it a "moat without a castle" and a "puddle without a middle."  Gustafson's design, despite a lack of grandeur, reflects the Princess's sense of accessibility and projects itself as an elegant and restrained necklace of water.

English Telly for the Curious

Telly in London is certainly different.  To begin with, you still have to buy a license to watch television at home on your set - a whopping $245/year. This fee fundamentally underwrites the BBC, and accordingly, BBC programming must appeal to everyone. Thus there are five 'free' channels, called terrestrials, and then lots more available digitally. The BBC has four channels; shows run the gamut from Botany: Powerful Plants to From the Lambing Shed to Apples: British to the Core to Grumpy Old Holidays to Embarrassing Bodies where experts make live diagnoses on members of the public (yuk). Reruns of Friends occur on several channels. Due to the innate fascination of Englanders with machines, there's constant and hilarious reruns of Top Gear.  Multiple shows feature how to buy property in sunny locations outside the UK.  One puzzling aspect is that on the morning news shows, the newscasters sit around and show/comment on that day's front pages.

Young Architect Thomas Hardy's Tree

In nearby St. Pancras Old Church cemetery is a towering, fenced-in ash tree whose base has grown up and over headstones placed there by Thomas Hardy. A plaque near the tree explains that "before turning to writing full time," Thomas Hardy "studied architecture in London from 1862-67.  Hardy would have spent many hours in St. Pancras Churchyard overseeing the removal of bodies and tombs from the land on which the railway was being built."  The job perhaps inspired The Levelled Churchyard wherein one verse says..."We are late-lamented, resting here, Are mixed to human jam, And each to each exclaims in fear, 'I know not which I am!'"

Cambridge: A Place Apart for Centuries

King's College Chapel, its court, chapel nave, fan ceiling, & world-famous choir

With eight centuries of scholarly endeavors under its belt, Cambridge truly exemplifies the notion of the academical village. Composed of 31 colleges, the University of Cambridge--along with rival Oxford--forms an axis mundi of learning (although if I was ever fortunate to be given a choice, Cambridge is hands down much better). Only an hour north of London, the village is clearly light years away in demeanor with a serious air wafting about the academic cloisters and quads. Students and dons weave by on bicycles and flat-bottomed boats (called punts) lazily meander down the river in scenes that could come straight out of "Chariots of Fire." Yet, the modern world intrudes as bio-tech firms seem to sprout like mushrooms. A pilgrimage to the Eagle Tavern prompted a quiet toast at the table where Watson & Crick announced their discovery of DNA; in an adjoining room the walls and ceiling are covered with names and emblems of both RAF and US airmen. Evensong at King's College Chapel was a great place to end the day. Sitting in the chapel and listening to the voices of the Men's Chapel Choir, it was easy to be transported in time back to a medieval monastery for a day of reflection and introspection.

Christopher Wren's Library at King's College, punting on the River Cam

06 St. Chads Place

Down a crooked alley and surrounded by lots of designers in converted warehouses lies St. Chad's

If we had a local, this would be it.  Down a Dickensian alleyway and atop a rumbling train line, St. Chad's is a cobbled mechanic's workshop converted into a unpretentious cafe/bar. With its interior of clean, straightforward exposed surfaces, an elegant single volume provides a casual setting for breakfast, late evening meals, drinks or tapas. Chilled music provides background for design office meetings, neighborhood mates meeting during the day, and simply winding down the week with a DJ on Friday evenings. Wrap it up and take it back to Portland.

Greater Portland in London

Who knew there were so many local places in London, notwithstanding too many Starbucks.

Barrier Gates for London's Thames' Doorstep

Thames Barrier Park, the barrier, and an apocalyptic London globally warmed?

In the far eastern corner of London, next to the Docklands development, is one of the more unique parks in the city. Sleek pavilions, manicured hedge rows, and wide grassy areas lead to the edge of the Thames and the behemoth that keeps the river in check. Rising like 10 silver-backed armadillos, the  Thames Barrier is marvel of modern engineering. London is susceptible to flooding since the Thames is very tidal and North Sea winter storms regularly roll up a long and broad estuary. The barrier's curved gates normally lie on the river floor, but if needed, huge rocker arms rotate up to provide a five-story wall. Built in 1984, the barrier is 1.5 meters higher than the last great flood in 1953 but is typically raised at least twice a year. A barrier now, but who knows what the future holds if the seas continue to rise as a result of climate change?

Food for Thought

Cottage pie, take-away sandwiches, fish & chips with mushy peas, and who knows what

Bubble & Squeak...Toad in the Hole...Mushy Peas...S & M  (as in sausage and mash)...Making our way through a pub menu, shop signs, and markets. Two months in England and there's still fun in eating out (or in). Back in the 1970s, when I went to university here, a friend told me that the British had their tastebuds removed at birth (no wonder they circled the globe looking for spices). There was no evidence to refute that. Now, though, "good British food" is no longer an oxymoron, and the number and variety of foreign cuisines available is truly staggering. The obsession with locally sourced food has also struck London, and our neighborhood grocery store labels their produce not only with the geographic origin but sometimes the farmer, so you know that some guy named Brian grew your strawberries on the Isle of Wight. There's still a chance of getting a miserable meal but it's no longer dead certain.  

Trooping the Color for the Queen's Birthday

The Queen's birthday is celebrated at least twice a year (so nice to be the Queen): on her actual birth date (April 21) and on a designated day in summer when the weather is bound to be nicer. Part of the Queen's Birthday Parade is called Trooping the Color, a tradition from the 1700s that brings out a regal display of royal troops for HRH's review. We had the opportunity to watch one of the rehearsals - colors flying, multiple regiments, and lots of mounted cavalry guards. And the day just happened to coincide with the Champions League Final between ManU (hate 'em) and Barcelona (love 'em). Thousands of Barca fans also showed their colors all over the city, from Trafalgar Square to Wembley Stadium. A glorious 3:1 thrashing by Barca...can you say Messicre?...ole, ole, ole!

The colors from the Queen's Life Guards to Barcelona's Faithful

A New Parliament for an Old/New Country

Parliament emerging from the land, the assembly chambers, and symbols of upturned boats on the seashore

What architectural forms best symbolizes the aspirations of a nation?  For Scotland, the design selected via competition in 2004, was by Barcelona architect Enric Miralles.  Instead of a royal palace, Miralles envisioned government growing from the landscape, where Scotland's national character could be a blend of nature and man, city and countryside, democratically accessible to all. The complex, which emerges at the base of the old city, is truly remarkable and creatively achieves that vision. We had the honor of witnessing the inaugural address by Scotland's new First Minister who eloquently voiced much of that country's nationalistic aspirations. But not without heated debate.  Whether Scotland remains united with England, Wales and Northern Ireland in Great Britain or achieves total independence continues a 250 year old question. Their new Parliament building will provide a wonderful stage for that continuing debate.

Edinburgh - A City of Bagpipes, Brews, and Burns

View of Edinburgh Castle, Old and New Towns from Calton Hill

A four-and-a-half hour train ride from London takes you to the capital of Scotland: majestic and brooding Edinburgh. The medieval city, lorded over by the 12th century castle, sits on one side of Princes Street, while the new city--designed by a 23-year-old planner in 1766--fills the other half. We spent our first afternoon hiking up to the castle, which houses the royal jewels and a lovely small chapel built by King David I to honor his mother, St. Margaret. Another steep climb took us up Calton Hill, the highest point of the new town and a hang out of the philosopher David Hume. From these vantage points Edinburgh sweeps out to the Firth of Forth and the North Sea beyond: a jumble of soot-stained stone buildings, cobbled streets, grand squares, dramatic crags, and monuments to the great Scotsmen who gave the world modern economics (Adam Smith), an ode to haggis (Robbie Burns), and romances filled with kilt-wearing knights (Sir Walter Scott). While we avoided the haggis (aka boiled offal-filled sheep's intestine) we did feast on smoked haddock, neeps, tatties, and a fair amount of stout.

Parks, Gardens, Squares and Fields...Oh My

Private square, fenced-in greenery and a public garden atop a former boneyard

London is full of green spaces, and it's green spaces that make the city such an easy place in which to walk. On a 3/4 mile walk to work, there's a community open space, a public square, a private park for children only, and a formal, 300-year old legal complex that opens its gardens to the public from noon to 2:30pm. There's a world of difference between them all. Squares are typically private and fenced off for use only by surrounding residents, while a garden can be public or private, and larger parks refer to royal properties that have been converted for public access. One of the city's more curious traditions was the conversion of graveyards into parks as new cemeteries were developed in outer London. Nearly every public park was previously a cemetery with unreadable headstones pushed over to the sides. Family tombs are often left almost like picnic tables. In a nearby park is a towering, fenced-in tree whose base has grown up and over headstones placed there by Thomas Hardy, who as a young architect (who knew?), was overseeing the construction of a railroad line through an older cemetery.

Headstones lining a park walkway and the Thomas Hardy Tree

St. Pancras Station - What An Urban Gateway Should Be

Sir Gilbert Scott's Victorian exterior, the Eurostar, old & new train shed, and the hotel's grand reopening in May.

St. Pancras Station, only 250 yards from our flat, sets the modern standard for entering and leaving a city. Originally constructed in 1868 with a grand hotel and the largest enclosed space in the world, the station has now formally reopened as the portal to England. Sir Gilbert Scott, the architect, would surely be pleased to see his Victorian symbol of industrial-age exuberance begin a second life as a contemporary gateway. To think that the national rail service was thinking about tearing it down in the late '80s. Now you can easily take the Eurostar from here and be in Paris in 2 hours, purchase a gift or snack at one of the upscale retailers, stay in a $500/night hotel, or at least, have a martini in the elegant converted ticket office.

Puffed-Up Politicians at London City Hall

London's new City Hall and its Assembly Chamber, by Sir Norman Foster

Ten times a year London's mayor is subjected to questioning by the 25 city counselors (or "Assembly Members") and the public is invited to witness the political posturing and blood-letting. The members are seated according to party affiliations and it's immediately apparent who's there to congratulate the city's leader and who brings out the long knives. Mayor Boris Johnson, with his back to the Thames and the Tower of London rising menacingly over his shoulder, tried to deftly deflect questions about the Tube and potential transit strikes, air pollution, the run up to the Olympics, and generally why he's accomplished nothing during his tenure (at least according to Ken Livingston, the man Johnson replaced, who was sitting in front of us). It's high political theatre with catcalls, harrumping and raised voices with a veneer of civility--all in a building referred to politely as the "glass onion" and less politely as the "glass testicle."

A Stroll Through Hip Clerkenwell

St. John's Hospital, industrial chic gastropub, Hadid's very traditional digs, the old and the new juxtaposed

The Clerkenwell neighborhood, a 10-minute walk from our flat, is what Portland's Pearl District aspires to be. The guidebooks claim that few areas are better at exemplifying London's capacity to reinvent itself. Originally home to the order of St. John's and its Knights Templar, the 11th century priory gateway rubs shoulders with renovated buildings housing some of the city's top architects and designers, such as strident Zaha Hadid (whose office is fittingly in an old school bearing an entrance marked for "women and infants"). Industrial chic gastropubs like the Clerkenwell Kitchen offer pricey cuisine amidst exposed brick, stainless steel, and sleek black leather to similarly sleek, black-clad 30-somethings.  

As It's Been Said, Two Countries Divided by a Common Language

A few of the signs we've come across.  The language is English, but since it's Britspeak, and we've no dictionary in hand, we're sometimes left scratching our heads. At other times, the uber-polite approach to public notices makes us smile.

Did the Vikings Wear Red Pants?

Stave church & carved pillar, fjord edge cafe, Vigeland statues, and passed out students

Oslo....land of gravlax, icebergs, and the $6 cup of coffee. Two days here just about broke the bank, but was definitely worth it. More dramatic and geographically varied than Copenhagen, Oslo offered the same wonderful mix of beautiful old buildings and mind-blowing contemporary design. At the outdoor Folk Museum we wandered through a stave church built in the 1200s and then ate mussels and people-watched at the Aker Brugge waterfront that's bursting with new development. Unlike Portland, Norwegians feel nature is something to be conquered and have no qualms about putting cafes and imposing structures (like the amazing new Opera House) abutting the water. (In the case of the Opera House, the fjord laps at the edge of the building and the steeply sloping roof is an invitation to slide into the water.) At the other end of town, we visited Frogner Park, which boasts 192 bronze and stone sculptures by Gustav Vigeland. (Japanese tourists were enjoying themselves shedding their shirts and mimicking the statues' poses--luckily they kept their pants on!) We also observed the strange "brotherhood of the traveling red pants." Apparently high school seniors mark their impending graduation by donning red overalls and getting crazy drunk for the three weeks between the end of classes and their final exams. The pants are like walking yearbooks, covered with signatures and mementos. Mick, our friends' son (and part-time guide) who is going to grad school in Oslo, told us that the red pants also serve as an early warning device of crowds to avoid!

Oslo's dramatic new opera house, an iceberg of white marble moored in the city's harbor

There Is Nothing Like the Danes!

The Stroget, Royal Guards, bikes everywhere, and Nyhaven (the old harbor)

Springtime in Copenhagen...Royal Guards out of a Hans Christian Anderson story, more bikes than anyone could count, and waffles (and inexplicably hot dog stands) at every turn. While Rudy worked (reviewing student work at DIS, the Danish Institute for Study Abroad), I played tourist. We did have some time together to stroll along the canals; trip over cobblestones and drool over high-priced, high design goods in the Stroget shopping district; and watch the guards march back and forth at the Amalienborg Castle, which was a few doors down from the B & B where we stayed in a lovely 1890s apartment filled with family heirlooms. Rudy even spotted the prince walking his dog around the castle grounds, nattily dressed in a double-breasted blazer (the prince, not the dog). On our last day, the head of DIS's architecture program took us on a tour of Orestead, a suburb to the south that is being carved out of wetlands. The area is filled with several architectural experiments from BIG and similar cutting edge firms--lots of crazy angles, eco-roofs, and intriguing public spaces, all laced with canals and a stone's throw from a new elevated rail line.

The New Copenhagen-Student (!) housing, BIG's "mountain," the Opera House, and market-rate housing.

So Many Pubs, So Little Time

A few pub signs from London....Haven't had a pint in all of these, but there's still time........

Getting Ready for the Big Show - The London Olympics

 480 days to go - Zaha Hadid's Aquatic Center as designed (left) and as built (right); a quarter of Kapoor's Tower & the Olympic Stadium

There's a clock in Trafalgar Square counting down the days/hours to the start of the 2012 Olympics. Rumored to cost more than $14B, there's no shortage of criticism - from the logo to the creepy-looking mascots to the emerging buildings. Unlike several past Olympiads, all the venues have been focused in one dilapidated area of the city to spur revitalization efforts. Last week we took an evening walking tour around the periphery of the venues, not exactly on the usual tourist route, to see some projects under construction. The tour was led by Timothy Bruce-Dick, an elderly rather eccentric London architect (redundant adjectives?) who added inside gossip. Hadid's Aquatic Center has been regrettably altered with temporary seating "wings" to add more seats for the games; as the architect said, "Hadid is probably biting the rug right now!" Surrounding the athletic venues is the Legacy Park, 1 mile long and 620 acres, the largest park to be developed here since Victorian days. Some of the parkways, sculpted landscape, and a new high-rail station in the middle of the grounds are already open to the public.

On the Art of Walking in London

There’s a subtle art to walking in London.  The pace is very quick; eye contact is minimal, and then you have to decide whether to look left or look right, so we look both ways, and still get it wrong.  Staying to the left instead of the right keeps you constantly brushing against others, unlike the natives.  So, the dance continues… Haven't driven a car in over a month, and liking it!

A Victorian Notion of Death

Victorian Monuments Overgrown in Highgate Cemetery

Ivy, weeds, and wildflowers beneath a canopy of plane trees overpower Highgate Cemetery in northern London.  Created in 1839 as one of the first cemeteries outside of the City of London (and as a refuge from grave robbers who were busy unearthing bodies for medical research), Highgate holds family tombs for almost 160,000 departed souls.  Reflecting Victorian symbolism and attitudes toward death, crumbling tombs for England's founding industrialists, writers like George Elliot, and even dissident socialists like Karl Marx jostle one another amid a losing battle with nature. Visitors and family leave odd mementos: a package of drink mix for Marx, a dozen oranges for a Chinese businessman, notes in many languages weighted down with rocks, notebooks for Radclyffe Hall, an early Lesbian author who scandalized society by writing of two women who "spent the night together but not as friends." Unlimited individual stories, no gardeners, little repair, and an occasional fox running through the labyrinth of paths demand reflection on mortality.

Kew - A Gardener's Delight for 300 Years

Handkerchief Tree, Kew Palace, and outside/inside earthly delights (including the rare Jade Vine, from the Philippines)

Kew Gardens, as the Royal Botanic Gardens is known, is an early spring delight. As one guide book says, it "represents the pinnacle of Britain's obsession with gardening." Covering half a square mile and bordered on one side by the Thames, it features a series of elegant Victorian greenhouses, stuffed to the gills with exotic plants, trees, and shrubs from all over the world. In the Waterlily House, lilies that look like small hassocks float along the pond's surface, and the Temperate House has what's called "the Holy Grail" of orchids, with petals measuring some three feet long. While the daffodils had passed their peak, the rhodies, azaleas, and wisteria were in full bloom, and it was a perfect sunny day to stroll through the big swaths of mowed lawns, dodging badger holes and small children.

It Was a Particularly English Day

Looking for us?...Not in this crowd

The Bartons of Queen Alexandra Mansions observed the royal nuptials with a few dozen other celebrants in "The Angel," a cozy pub in the village of Highgate, while sipping Pimms and tucking into a full English breakfast (ridiculous amounts of pork products, grilled tomato and mushrooms, baked beans, eggs, and toast). There was definitely an air of festivity, even outside the center of the city: businesses festooned with bunting, street parties, flag-waving children, and pictures of Kate and Wills smiling from unlikely spots. The forecast rain even held off---surprising that the Queen has that much power!...The English press has said all that can be said about the wedding - the dress, giving ratings to the headgear, cutting comments about the royal minibuses, verbal jousting between Royalists and Republicans, and just how quirky British-style celebrations can be.  Royal Knees Up!..with smiles all around.

 

Wedding Fever

Regent's Street Is Ready for Kate & Wills

The invitation must have gotten lost in the mail. Guess we'll just have to join the expected one million other commoners who will be packing parks, pubs, and street parties to celebrate Friday's nuptials. Some die-hard royalists started camping along the wedding route on Monday. Even the threat of rain on the big day isn't discouraging the masses. British telly and newspapers have been relentless in trying to ferret out wedding-related stories from interviews with the butcher in Kate's hometown to the couple who found the bride's image on a jelly bean; it's surprising the media haven't been able to find an angle in Libya or Syria, but not for lack of trying!

Semana Santa (Holy Week)

Scenes from Palma's Easter Procession

Londoners take Easter seriously, with both Friday and Monday as official public holidays. But, they can't hold a candle (literally) to the Spaniards, who have raised Easter celebrations to a fine art. We hopped a cheap Ryanair flight to Majorca for the weekend, an island of 760,000 people (and hordes of British and German tourists) off the southern coast of mainland Spain. As night fell on Maundy Thursday, the narrow cobblestone streets of the medieval walled city at the heart of Palma de Mallorca, filled with "penitents" in a three-hour long procession. Each parish in the city has its own group of hooded marchers, bearing four-foot long candles. The robed figures or Nazarenos, whose costume was adopted by the Ku Klux Klan, are  preceded by solemn marching bands and followed by "floats" bearing religious statuary carried on elaborate platforms decorated with flowers. The most penitent of the penitents walk barefoot and/or drag chains shackled to their ankles. Some groups have a coterie of black gowned women, draped in flowing lace mantillas and dripping with ropes of Majorcan pearls, following on the heels of the penitents. Young children in robes, but sans the pointy hoods, carry lighters and make sure the tapers are kept burning. (Apparently their mothers never warned them about playing with fire.) A thin layer of dirt is spread on the cobblestones before the procession begins to absorb the dripping candle wax, and police stretch measuring tapes from side to side along the route to make sure that the bystanders won't be trampled by riders on horseback or float handlers. Still, there are close calls as the parade watchers crowd in to say hello to neighbors or jostle for candy or religious cards handed out by some marches. The whole procession is repeated on Good Friday, and services in the island's many basillicas, cathedrals, and chapels seem to be going nonstop. No bunny rabbits in sight (except on bodega menus). 

Our Neighborhood Museum

The Great Court of the British Museum

Our neighborhood is almost embarrassingly filled with museums - there's actually a street labeled the Mile of Museums.  The grand foundation is the British Museum, home to the Rosetta Stone, the Elgin Marbles taken from the Parthenon, countless souvenirs from cultures across the globe.  Entirely too much sensory overload to absorb in any single visit, we have the luxury, since it's free, to wander through when we like.  It's only a short walk away (I can actually go through as a shortcut between work and other destinations), so we can make it a weekly visit - ancient Egypt last week, and next week?

There Will Always Be An England

No dragons, but lots of flags to honor St. George

How many holes does it take to fill the Royal Albert Hall? asked the Beatles. Dunno. But, the hall remains a fine place to celebrate St. George's Day, which is England's National Day. With about 6,000 other people, we heard the Royal Philharmonic Concert Orchestra and the Royal Choral Society perform a host of English favorites, from the White Cliffs of Dover to Pomp & Circumstance and Rule Britannia. We were probably the only ones who didn't know the words for the sing-alongs (unlike the "old dear" next to us who managed to belt out the tunes while downing a tuna sandwich). Most of the audience was armed with small Union Jacks or the white flags of St. George marked with a red cross; some even sported St. George hats or shirts. A frenzy of flag waving accompanied the patriotic songs, and the finale was capped by a cascade of red and white balloons that came showering down on the orchestra and audience, who popped them with glee, making it sound like indoor fireworks.

Football Fanaticism

Manchester United v Manchester City in the FA Cup Semi-Finals, Photos by The Observer

Although we've been told that the Anglican church is the official state religion, football seems to be celebrated more.  The passion of football (aka soccer) fans is akin to the wars between rival cultures.  Tried to get some tickets, but most matches are completely sold out - still trying.  This weekend sees big matches - the semifinals of England's club championship with four teams from the northwest.  Over 200,000 Manchester fans made a pilgrimage into London (only 100,000 seats in the stadium) for the semifinals, in addition to regular weekend matches.  Thus the streets and pubs were full of young to older men, all with a general shortage of hair.  We've been serenaded all last night and all this morning.  Watched one match in a rather genteel local pub, a sedate, mixed crowd in the afternoon.  Went back later that evening to the same pub to a completely different crowd.  Sat with a small group of Germans who wandered in to watch the evening match between Barcelona and Madrid like me.  Most of the 100+ crowd were obviously backers from Manchester United (the losing side) and were commiserating in loud song and numerous pints.  Teams of Bobbies wandered through the pub every half hour or so just to keep things relatively quiet. Not quite a religious experience, but it was like sitting in a different church pew.

Place for a Pint

Jeremy, Local Pubs, and Rhonda's first Pimm's on the season

Pubs are integral to British life: a place to grab a pint before heading home, watch a football match with your mates, spend a social evening gossiping with the neighbors, or have some plain or fancy grub. The Dolphin, a few doors down from our flat, attracts 20 to 40-year-old blokes who like to start tossing back drinks early on Saturday morning and get progressively rowdier as they get ready for a 3pm kickoff - singing loudly such tunes as Blue Moon, When the Saints Come Marching In, and You'll Never Walk Alone.  The Mabel, a block away in the other direction, has a mixed clientele of all ages, male and female, and different races. Much more genteel. The neighborhood pub that gets the most points for best "back story" is the Jeremy Bentham, which has a wax likeness of Bentham peering down over the bar. According to a plaque on the building's brick exterior, Bentham, a lawyer, philosopher, and a founder of nearby University College, has his mummified head stored in the college's vault. It's taken out regularly for college Council meetings, which record Bentham as "present, but not voting." How's that for a legacy?  

BathTime

Roman Baths with Bath Abbey in background

Even with overcast skies, the honey-colored stone of Bath is magical. The Romans settled this area after Julius Caesar conquered Britain, drawn by the only thermal springs in the country. They built the elaborate network of sacred baths, as well as temples to the water goddess Minerva. The British upper crust rediscovered the healing powers of the waters during the 18th century, and Bath became a center for leisure and pleasure, the first true tourist town. Today, tourists come in droves to tour the baths, sip samples of the warm, slightly sulphur-laden water, visit the Georgian houses that local lodger Jane Austen immortalized, and have a banger & a pint.

Cabinets of Curiosities

Grant Museum of Zoology at University College London

Among our neighborhood attractions is this curious museum, filled with skeletons, taxidermy specimens, and creatures floating in preservative. Founded by UCL's first professor of zoology, Grant was an early supporter of evolution and a mentor to the young Charles Darwin. The one-room museum is crammed full of cabinets, holding the bones of a dodo bird, antlers of the prehistoric giant Irish deer, and, dare I write, a walrus penis bone (lower right). Via a contribution, you can adopt one of the specimens, so proper little nameplates pop up next to scorpions, wombats, elephant hearts, and anaconda vertebrae. The museum poses provocative questions about conservation: Is it morally correct to spend billions on trying to cure the common cold but almost nothing on curing face lice, which threaten to wipe out Tasmanian devils? Indeed.

Still Missing

The Tate Modern, a behemoth of a museum tucked inside a former power plant, devotes its main turbine hall to a single temporary exhibit. Currently the space features an installation by the Chinese artist Ai WeiWei: 100 million porcelain sunflower seeds. Seen from above it pretty much looks like a gravel pit, but at ground level it's much more impressive and nuanced. Originally, visitors were invited to walk through the seeds, but it kicked up so much dust that it was deemed a health hazard and now it's roped off. Just a couple of days after we saw the exhibit, word came that WeiWei had been arrested by the Chinese government for "anti-economic behavior." He has since disappeared. The Tate now has a giant sign hanging from its roofline saying "Release WeiWei." No one knows if, or when, that might happen.

Another Canterbury Tale

Canterbury Cathedral Outside & In, plus medieval grafitti

Canterbury, of Chaucer fame, lies about an hour east of London. Since the 1100s it's attracted pilgrims, though today they're likely to be sipping lattes from the Starbucks that nestles right next to the entrance to the famed cathedral where Thomas Becket was murdered by four knights, who were incited by King Henry II. In an act of penance, the king later donned sackcloth and walked through the streets of Canterbury while 80 monks reportedly flogged him with branches. No floggings in sight the day we visited, though we would have liked to take some branches to the hordes of noisy French schoolchildren who thronged the narrow cobblestone lanes. (Don't they have their own medieval churches to visit?) The cathedral, the first built in the Gothic style in England, is truly awe-inspiring with an enormous nave filled with light and the patterns of stained glass windows that survived World War II because someone had the presence of mind to remove them and stash them somewhere safe. We sat in the crypt for awhile, a dimly lit, low-ceiling space with heavy Romanesque arches. Past pilgrims have etched their initials and dates into the thick walls. It's amusing to realize that grafitti was a problem even back in the 1400s.

Early Springtime in London

Regent's Park, Random Residential Square, and Greenwich Park

It's a very early spring in London and all those Londoners with their pasty white skins, just like Portlanders, are taking to the parks and squares en masse.  On the weekends we've taken the opportunity to explore some of the larger Royal parks, like Regent's Park which was laid out in 1812.  Regent's may be a good spot to take a picnic and watch the William & Kate wedding later this month.  Large tv screens will be set up in the royal parks for the masses to watch all the pomp and ceremony.  On work days I walk about 15 minutes to work trying to take different routes.  The sheer number of smaller, residential parks and squares is marvelous, and makes the city's residential density bearable.  All of the residential squares are gated, locked and only accessible to adjacent residents; however, that hasn't stopped us from shaking every gate as we walk by.

The Artful Dodgers

Swarm by Tessa Farmer at Saatchi Gallery

It's possible to go from Turner watercolors to Damien Hirst's lamb in formaldehyde to portraits of Georgian-era royalty, all in the space of an afternoon's walk. We started out today in Sloane Square, checking out the Saatchi Gallery. Located in a former military barracks in Chelsea, it's a fabulous, light-filled space to see exhibits of contemporary art, as well as pieces going on the auction block (in this case, iconic photos by the likes of Avedon, Penn, Mann, Arbus, and Mapplethorpe--some with presale estimates up to $50-60,000). We were most taken with "Swarm" (pictured). Each of the individual insects were transporting tiny people fashioned of smaller bug 'parts', which would make for a lively picnic!

Peak Hour is Really Peak Hour

There's a Tube entry in there somewhere!

We're becoming more adept at finding our way around this sprawling city of 8 million people. The population almost doubles during the workday, so rush hour brings out the teeming masses. We learned pretty quickly not to attempt to ride the tube (or buses) during peak hours, which carry higher rates during those hours anyway. 

Queen Alexandra (Not Really) Mansions

Home Sweet Home

On the lowest right, our apartment has the two windows

Settling in at the Queen Alexandra Mansions, though mansions may be a misnomer. We're ensconced in a daylight basement flat in an 8-story hulking Victorian tower of bricks. Though it's a comfortable 800 square foot 2-bedroom apartment, it's hard to believe that it would take a half million pounds (around $800K) to buy this place. One block to two of the busiest train stations, and all sorts of other diversions dot the neighborhood: at least a half dozen pubs within spitting distance, Dickens's house, a zoology museum where Darwin once hung out, the world's first "foundling home" where some 17,000 children were left by families unable to care for them, and the British Library where you can stroll in and see the Magna Carta, Henry VIII's prayer scroll, or some Beatles songs scribbled on to the backs of envelopes.

Strangers in a Strange Land

The Gherkin as seen through the Tower Bridge

 We've spent the last week getting lost, which has its advantages as every street seems filled with delightful surprises. So far, we've been to the British Museum, the Tate, the Design Museum, the City of London Museum and when the weather turned glorious, we walked our bums off covering Hampstead Heath, Regent's Park, and Hyde Park. Daffodils, cherry blossoms, tulips, and quince are all in full bloom. How lucky are we? R & R