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