The train carried us west to Bath on Saturday. Since Bath is a small town, popular with tourists, our only option was to book a room in a hostel. The local YMCA runs an excellent hostel. We checked into a small, clean room with bunk beds. Actually quite nice.
Before taking the free walking tour of the city, we watched a group setup a bell ringing device and then coax hesitant tourists to attempt to yank on ropes, in some sort of musical rhythm, that ran around large wheels before jerking the bells. It was a ridiculous cacophony, but interesting to watch. More musically pure was a lone musician playing a “hang”, a round drum like object that is tapped with the fingers and sounds like a stringed instrument. You can hear a short sample here: http://www.oddmusic.com/gallery/om16250.html.
On the tour we learned about the playboy gambler who was “king” of Bath several hundred years ago. The town was almost his private club; he would organize huge parties and visitors would need to check in with him. There was also an interesting version of tax evasion on display. At one point the government taxed homes based on the number of windows. This was particularly cruel during the time before electricity when windows were essential for making the interior anything more than a depressing dungeon. The tax rule stated that if windows were further than a certain dimension apart they would count as 2 windows. Creative builders were able to skinny up the supporting stone between windows so that 2 windows would actually count as one. We also learned the gracefulness of middle aged toilets. The chamber pot was usually kept in the room behind a screen. You would converse with your guests and when the urge came simply step behind the screen to “take your ease”. The pot was then disposed of by dumping it through holes in the wall into a ditch by the road. The resulting “night soil” was collected and removed by someone unable to get a better job. Somewhat more civilized were the hanging toilets from the side of homes. This was simply a small, wooden room attached to the second story with a hole in the floor to allow “night soil” to fall to the ground.
Next was a bath in Bath. The Roman Baths have been renovated as of a few years ago, and are now open to the public. The water is piped to more modern pools than the original Roman ones. We paddled and splashed in a rooftop pool in the sun with hundreds of other tourists.
You can’t swim where the Romans did, but you can walk through the old Roman baths, guided by excellent descriptions and displays. The baths are extensive with various rooms for steaming, cooling, and dipping. Exiting we were able to taste a swig of the warm water. It’s actually not bad, except for the warm temperature.
Bath has quite a nightlife, but much of it is college students club hopping. We joined a comedy walking tour called Bizarre Bath, that was decidedly different. The comedian was exceptional and kept us laughing the entire night as we strolled around Bath. One highlight was when a stuffed “Houdini” rabbit escaped from chains and a mailbag after being thrown in the river. Another was when a trailer who had not paid for the tour was put into stocks and carrots were thrown at her (including one by Shereen) before her head was cut off (ok, it was an illusion, she walked away afterwards). I was suckered into one of his numbers gags; stating he could read people’s minds he asked me to think of a number between 1 and 100, then asked if I had “one”. When I answered yes without thinking, he revealed the one.
Monday, June 29, 2009
London or Blessed Speakers of English
A few weeks later we boarded the train to England for a 4 day weekend for one of the French holidays. The Eurostar left early on Thursday arriving in London in time for us to drop our bags at the hotel and have brunch at a restaurant before noon. It was nice to have zero communication issues with the waitress. And the food was stick-to-your-ribs style eggs, sausage, ham, beans, and fries. A nice flavorful change from float-away croissants.
The subway dropped us near Big Ben, where we snapped a few pictures before walking around the corner to enter the British Parliament. The House of Commons and House of Lords are open for public viewing. There was a long line for the Commons, so we chose the Lords. We walked through a cavernous hall with a wooden ceiling designed like an inverted boat hull (very much like the hospice in Beune, France), up a couple flights of stone steps, into an elaborately decorated atrium with multiple hallways departing, through one of the hallways, then up several flights of narrow, carpeted stairs, before popping out in the viewers gallery 30 feet above the heads of the Lords in their chamber. The Lords and Commons chambers are setup similar with rows of benches facing each other. The debate is very combative, you need to be aggressive, well spoken, and loud to compete in these chambers. I was surprised to see that the benches were almost full on both sides; apparently the Lords enjoy debating even if they have limited power. The chairwoman sat, reclining on a large cushion in the center, looking interested, but we didn’t hear her say a word the half hour we were present. Three clerks in funny wigs were the most active people in the room scribbling notes, tapping on computers, shuffling papers. To their left the advocate for the topic of discussion spoke at a small lectern. When he had spoke for a few minutes, and began to sit down everyone else who was interested in commenting would jump to their feet. The one who got his questions out first was recognized and continue to speak. Then the advocate would respond and sit, followed by the Lords jumping again until another was recognized. A bit confusing and chaotic for a first timer to follow. The Commons is similar, but the topics of debate are more relevant. We heard debate on whether England should produce a statement to condemn actions in Israel and something else similarly meaningless. The Lords cleared out when one of the members arose and began a lengthy exposition on carbon emissions limits for 2050. In comparison we saw on the video cameras later that the Commons was debating legislation to affect housing permits in England. I have yet to do my homework on exactly what power the Lords have, but if our experience is indicative they are relegated to symbolic actions with little effect.
From Parliament we walked a few blocks to the bunker that Churchill used as his headquarters during WWII. Gutsy and amazing that the decision makers stayed here throughout the bombing under a few feet of concrete. The bunker shows the rooms very similar to the way they were at the end of the war. The rooms are tiny. In one cramped room multiple typists worked nearly round the clock. The maps used for charting progress on the seas show rows of pin holes along the major shipping routes. A map of Europe has a small Hitler drawn on it by a bored officer. Connected to the bunker is a nice Churchill museum. There were interviews with his personal secretaries describing his workday. Basically Churchill did not waste a minute that he was awake. He would typically get out of bed after 8 am, but begin working almost immediately. After reading over 10 newspapers and eating breakfast, one of his secretaries would join him in the bedroom, while Churchill was still in his pajamas, and begin taking dictation. Churchill would speak constantly for hours on end while his secretaries scrambled to keep up. The rest of the day he was constantly working, except for nap in the afternoon. His cigars and drinking are infamous. But according to his secretaries he rarely lit the cigars, only liked the taste in his mouth, and he the majority of his drinking was “brown water”: a glass of water with a dash of whiskey that he would drink throughout the day.
The Tower of London was our next stop. More of a castle than a tower, this was the place where many political prisoners were kept and beheaded. We were fortunate to catch the last Beefeater tour of the day, given by an energetic representative. If you miss one of these tours, the Tower is far less interesting. There was a nice display on Henry the VIIIth, with full suits of armor for man and horse. Apparently Henry was one of the great athletes of his day and enjoyed everything from jousting to a form of court tennis where the ball could be played off the walls. From the Tower walls we had a nice view of the Tower Bridge.
That evening we had tickets to the Shakespeare Globe Theater to see Romeo and Juliet. The Globe is an open air theater and is designed as theaters were in Shakespeare’s day with a thatched roof above the gallery seats that rise 4 stories around a large open area where the “groundlings” stand to watch. We had groundling tickets and found a place to lean against a wooden pillar. After a long day of walking, we would have preferred to sit. The play was excellent, with the groundlings participating as the actors walked through the crowd during certain scenes, including carrying a “dead” Juliet.
The changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace was on the agenda for the next morning. This turned out to be the biggest non-event, most overhyped site I have ever participated in. It was a nice day and we had time to stroll St. James park before. The band that usually accompanies the guard was occupied at another event, and the horse guard ceremony was also cancelled for an unknown reason. This left us watching a group of 20 guards marching down the street and into the gated palace courtyard. The area was packed with tourists cramming against the fence, so we stood on a railing to watch for a few minutes as the guards changed. Totally overrated. Probably every tourist in London was there, thousands of people were lining the sidewalks. But honestly, without the band and horseguard this was a nonevent.
The afternoon was to prove much better. We visited Old Bailey, the London courthouse, after having lunch at a Friday’s near Picadilly Circus, served by an American waitress who had moved to England for a change. The public is able to watch the lawyers and judges in funny wigs at Old Bailey. We checked our bags at a café across the street for a few Euros, and after a little confusion on what floor to visit, were ushered into a viewing gallery overlooking an ongoing session. By chance we had walked into a murder trial, with the murder suspect in the witness box. Our luck was changing from the morning. The courtroom was compact with rows of tables piled high with papers occupying most of the center. The lawyers sat behind the tables with no room for anyone to walk between. The lead lawyer stood at his table a few feet from the witness, who sat with his back to us, facing the jury on the opposite side of the room, with the judge to his right. It took a while to catch up to the line of questioning, but I was struck by the conversational tone of the lawyer. He was building a narrative and would solicit responses from the witness periodically. But the give and take seemed almost informal, with the witness responses coming interspersed with the lawyers questions more frequently than I expected. I have no experience in a courtroom, but the indirectness was surprising. To the best of our understanding the witness had attacked another guy who was dating an ex-girlfriend of his, and accidentally killed him. The witnesses said several of his friends were with him, but his story set it up so that only he was the attacker. The lawyer kept probing to include others in the assault. There were huge binders with pictures and exhibits in front of the lawyer, witness, judge, and each jury member. When the prosecutor referred to a document, they would wait until a clerk assisted the witness with finding the correct page. A computer image was projected on screens near the judge and near the jury facing the gallery, so we could easily follow along. It was fascinating to watch, all the more so since friends and relatives of the victim and accused were in the gallery with us.
The evening activity was one of the Jack the Ripper walks through London. The guide was outstanding and painted a good picture of the scrabbly nature of the poor sections of London where the events occurred and the known details surrounding each murder. He detailed in intricate gruesomeness how each of the middle aged prostitutes was found. It is almost certain that the Ripper was seen by others, since more than once a near witness said they saw the victim talking to a man shortly before she was killed. One person had even walked past the two and exchanged a few words. Our guide was not a true “Ripperologist”, and said that the true Jack is likely not one of the known likely suspects. But he did describe the ones thought most likely, including a drifter who committed suicide by filling his jacket with rocks and jumping in the river shortly after the murders stopped, a lunatic crewman from a ship that was docked in London at the time of the murders, and an eccentric who jumped a ship for America and disappeared before the police could catch him. It was fascinating and a must-do for London visitors.
The subway dropped us near Big Ben, where we snapped a few pictures before walking around the corner to enter the British Parliament. The House of Commons and House of Lords are open for public viewing. There was a long line for the Commons, so we chose the Lords. We walked through a cavernous hall with a wooden ceiling designed like an inverted boat hull (very much like the hospice in Beune, France), up a couple flights of stone steps, into an elaborately decorated atrium with multiple hallways departing, through one of the hallways, then up several flights of narrow, carpeted stairs, before popping out in the viewers gallery 30 feet above the heads of the Lords in their chamber. The Lords and Commons chambers are setup similar with rows of benches facing each other. The debate is very combative, you need to be aggressive, well spoken, and loud to compete in these chambers. I was surprised to see that the benches were almost full on both sides; apparently the Lords enjoy debating even if they have limited power. The chairwoman sat, reclining on a large cushion in the center, looking interested, but we didn’t hear her say a word the half hour we were present. Three clerks in funny wigs were the most active people in the room scribbling notes, tapping on computers, shuffling papers. To their left the advocate for the topic of discussion spoke at a small lectern. When he had spoke for a few minutes, and began to sit down everyone else who was interested in commenting would jump to their feet. The one who got his questions out first was recognized and continue to speak. Then the advocate would respond and sit, followed by the Lords jumping again until another was recognized. A bit confusing and chaotic for a first timer to follow. The Commons is similar, but the topics of debate are more relevant. We heard debate on whether England should produce a statement to condemn actions in Israel and something else similarly meaningless. The Lords cleared out when one of the members arose and began a lengthy exposition on carbon emissions limits for 2050. In comparison we saw on the video cameras later that the Commons was debating legislation to affect housing permits in England. I have yet to do my homework on exactly what power the Lords have, but if our experience is indicative they are relegated to symbolic actions with little effect.
From Parliament we walked a few blocks to the bunker that Churchill used as his headquarters during WWII. Gutsy and amazing that the decision makers stayed here throughout the bombing under a few feet of concrete. The bunker shows the rooms very similar to the way they were at the end of the war. The rooms are tiny. In one cramped room multiple typists worked nearly round the clock. The maps used for charting progress on the seas show rows of pin holes along the major shipping routes. A map of Europe has a small Hitler drawn on it by a bored officer. Connected to the bunker is a nice Churchill museum. There were interviews with his personal secretaries describing his workday. Basically Churchill did not waste a minute that he was awake. He would typically get out of bed after 8 am, but begin working almost immediately. After reading over 10 newspapers and eating breakfast, one of his secretaries would join him in the bedroom, while Churchill was still in his pajamas, and begin taking dictation. Churchill would speak constantly for hours on end while his secretaries scrambled to keep up. The rest of the day he was constantly working, except for nap in the afternoon. His cigars and drinking are infamous. But according to his secretaries he rarely lit the cigars, only liked the taste in his mouth, and he the majority of his drinking was “brown water”: a glass of water with a dash of whiskey that he would drink throughout the day.
The Tower of London was our next stop. More of a castle than a tower, this was the place where many political prisoners were kept and beheaded. We were fortunate to catch the last Beefeater tour of the day, given by an energetic representative. If you miss one of these tours, the Tower is far less interesting. There was a nice display on Henry the VIIIth, with full suits of armor for man and horse. Apparently Henry was one of the great athletes of his day and enjoyed everything from jousting to a form of court tennis where the ball could be played off the walls. From the Tower walls we had a nice view of the Tower Bridge.
That evening we had tickets to the Shakespeare Globe Theater to see Romeo and Juliet. The Globe is an open air theater and is designed as theaters were in Shakespeare’s day with a thatched roof above the gallery seats that rise 4 stories around a large open area where the “groundlings” stand to watch. We had groundling tickets and found a place to lean against a wooden pillar. After a long day of walking, we would have preferred to sit. The play was excellent, with the groundlings participating as the actors walked through the crowd during certain scenes, including carrying a “dead” Juliet.
The changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace was on the agenda for the next morning. This turned out to be the biggest non-event, most overhyped site I have ever participated in. It was a nice day and we had time to stroll St. James park before. The band that usually accompanies the guard was occupied at another event, and the horse guard ceremony was also cancelled for an unknown reason. This left us watching a group of 20 guards marching down the street and into the gated palace courtyard. The area was packed with tourists cramming against the fence, so we stood on a railing to watch for a few minutes as the guards changed. Totally overrated. Probably every tourist in London was there, thousands of people were lining the sidewalks. But honestly, without the band and horseguard this was a nonevent.
The afternoon was to prove much better. We visited Old Bailey, the London courthouse, after having lunch at a Friday’s near Picadilly Circus, served by an American waitress who had moved to England for a change. The public is able to watch the lawyers and judges in funny wigs at Old Bailey. We checked our bags at a café across the street for a few Euros, and after a little confusion on what floor to visit, were ushered into a viewing gallery overlooking an ongoing session. By chance we had walked into a murder trial, with the murder suspect in the witness box. Our luck was changing from the morning. The courtroom was compact with rows of tables piled high with papers occupying most of the center. The lawyers sat behind the tables with no room for anyone to walk between. The lead lawyer stood at his table a few feet from the witness, who sat with his back to us, facing the jury on the opposite side of the room, with the judge to his right. It took a while to catch up to the line of questioning, but I was struck by the conversational tone of the lawyer. He was building a narrative and would solicit responses from the witness periodically. But the give and take seemed almost informal, with the witness responses coming interspersed with the lawyers questions more frequently than I expected. I have no experience in a courtroom, but the indirectness was surprising. To the best of our understanding the witness had attacked another guy who was dating an ex-girlfriend of his, and accidentally killed him. The witnesses said several of his friends were with him, but his story set it up so that only he was the attacker. The lawyer kept probing to include others in the assault. There were huge binders with pictures and exhibits in front of the lawyer, witness, judge, and each jury member. When the prosecutor referred to a document, they would wait until a clerk assisted the witness with finding the correct page. A computer image was projected on screens near the judge and near the jury facing the gallery, so we could easily follow along. It was fascinating to watch, all the more so since friends and relatives of the victim and accused were in the gallery with us.
The evening activity was one of the Jack the Ripper walks through London. The guide was outstanding and painted a good picture of the scrabbly nature of the poor sections of London where the events occurred and the known details surrounding each murder. He detailed in intricate gruesomeness how each of the middle aged prostitutes was found. It is almost certain that the Ripper was seen by others, since more than once a near witness said they saw the victim talking to a man shortly before she was killed. One person had even walked past the two and exchanged a few words. Our guide was not a true “Ripperologist”, and said that the true Jack is likely not one of the known likely suspects. But he did describe the ones thought most likely, including a drifter who committed suicide by filling his jacket with rocks and jumping in the river shortly after the murders stopped, a lunatic crewman from a ship that was docked in London at the time of the murders, and an eccentric who jumped a ship for America and disappeared before the police could catch him. It was fascinating and a must-do for London visitors.
Joan of Arc Postscript
Well, the last few weeks I feel that I am either working or on vacation. There hasn’t been much in between. Here’s a rundown of our activities.
Back in May, we visited the Joan of Arc festival (about the only reason to visit Orleans as a tourist, the other Joan related things here, house, museum, are tired and only for hardcore history buffs). The festival had activities all week long, but we picked the things that were most interesting to us. On a Thursday night there was a film with music that was projected on to the side of the cathedral. We weren’t entirely clear on what was happening where, so we ended up with a lousy angle from the side of the cathedral. The crowd was huge, filling the main streets. We were in a good spot to see the local politicians march out from the government office building to give their speeches. The spectacle was quite impressive, despite our poor choice of viewing locations; using a medieval cathedral as a projection screen is creative. We couldn’t understand much of the speeches, but it was something along the lines of “in these difficult times the spirit of Jeanne d’Arc is still important….etc.”
The next Friday was a holiday so we went downtown for the parade. This time we were able to get a spot against the fence guarding the main road toward the cathedral. Again there was a huge crowd, creating a nice atmosphere with the flags flying from the buildings. Before the parade started there were more long speeches. I got a laugh out of an older French lady when I made a snoring noise. It’s the same everywhere, windbag politicians talk too much. The parade was led by Joan on a horse leading a group in medieval costume, various marching bands, and general fanfare. Eventually the parade included more modern groups as it seemed that every government group had a contingent: police, hospital, army, navy, air force, various other military groups, but the biggest cheers were for the fireman.
Back in May, we visited the Joan of Arc festival (about the only reason to visit Orleans as a tourist, the other Joan related things here, house, museum, are tired and only for hardcore history buffs). The festival had activities all week long, but we picked the things that were most interesting to us. On a Thursday night there was a film with music that was projected on to the side of the cathedral. We weren’t entirely clear on what was happening where, so we ended up with a lousy angle from the side of the cathedral. The crowd was huge, filling the main streets. We were in a good spot to see the local politicians march out from the government office building to give their speeches. The spectacle was quite impressive, despite our poor choice of viewing locations; using a medieval cathedral as a projection screen is creative. We couldn’t understand much of the speeches, but it was something along the lines of “in these difficult times the spirit of Jeanne d’Arc is still important….etc.”
The next Friday was a holiday so we went downtown for the parade. This time we were able to get a spot against the fence guarding the main road toward the cathedral. Again there was a huge crowd, creating a nice atmosphere with the flags flying from the buildings. Before the parade started there were more long speeches. I got a laugh out of an older French lady when I made a snoring noise. It’s the same everywhere, windbag politicians talk too much. The parade was led by Joan on a horse leading a group in medieval costume, various marching bands, and general fanfare. Eventually the parade included more modern groups as it seemed that every government group had a contingent: police, hospital, army, navy, air force, various other military groups, but the biggest cheers were for the fireman.
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