Trip to England

Trip to England

October, 2000

Monday, October 9, 2000

Flew to England, leaving Atlanta 1841, arriving Philadelphia, then departing for London. The flight was relatively uneventful. Isabella and Christopher Peter slept ok, Isabella at one point popping up like a chicken, her hair all mussed up, then falling back to sleep.

Tuesday, October 10, 2000

Slept, walked around Mariann's neighborhood in North Clapham, in southeast London.

Wednesday, October 11, 2000

The first thing about England that struck me as curious was the ubiquitous admonition to "Mind the Gap" piped overhead at every railroad and underground (subway) station and printed in yellow on a line drawn about 2 feet from the edge of the platform. I imagine there must be some gory story behind this command which is simply a reminder not to get sucked into the path of or hit by a train racing past.

Other distinctly British signs advised one to "Mind the Doors" and "Mind Your Head." (Well, which is it?)

Took the tube to central London, where we dismounted. Very noisy, much traffic whizzing past. Saw Buckingham Palace - not very impressive, a drab rectangle of stone with two guards in blue-gray uniforms (not the traditional brilliant red with black fuzzy hat) at a strange modified position of attention (with legs shoulder width). Once they moved and did some sort of goose-stepping thing. Frankly not worth the walk.

Walked through St. James Park, which was cold but at least it wasn't raining (yet). Isabella and Christopher Peter played in a small playground.

Visited the Royal Mews, where the royal horses and carriages are kept. Saw the various carriages, all requiring several gray mares to pull. Asked the staff about who pays for it all (visitors, they say) and whether there is much of an anti-monarchy movement (no, but they have to inspect bags, etc., to insure there is no demonstration or sabotage). Seemed extraordinarily wasteful. Each of the several horses required to pull a carriage must be escorted by 2-3 people positioned strategically behind, in front of, or on the horse. In addition, separate riders provide security. Some of the carriages weigh over two tons. Very flashy, much gold on the harnesses and bits, not to mention the carriages themselves. "If you want pageantry, no one can beat us at putting on a show," one of the staff boasted. OK.

We then saw Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, the statue of Churchill glaring across the Thames, a less menacing statue of Cromwell in front of Parliament. The rush of traffic detracted from the majesty of the place, all the layers of history. Then we ate under the Eye of London, a huge ferris wheel constructed for the Millennium celebration. It began to drizzle, so we headed back to Marrian's place.

Thursday, October 12, 2000

Rode the Eye of London. Not a ride, but a "flight" technically, sponsored by British Airways. The wheel is on the edge of the River Thames, and was actually constructed horizontally over the river, then raised perpendicular to the ground. After a 20-30" wait, you get into a cable-car-like contraption, shaped like an egg with plexiglass all around. We could see all of London, although Christopher Peter was most fascinated with the trains coming and going across the bridge leading into Charing Cross station. Isabella swung like a monkey from the railing lining the pod, at times making it seem she was swinging with nothing below her but several hundred feet of air. We could see Big Ben, Parliament, the Royal Air Force Memorial, the barges going up and down river, even a floating advertisement ("Absolut Citron" - a barge shaped like a vodka bottle). One of the men in our pod said he was in Britain during the Blitz and pointed out St. Paul's cathedral for us in the distance (not even scathed although everything around it was destroyed). The weather cleared for a bit and we had a good view of London.

Between us, we ate three overpriced hotdogs sold by a man who was complaining quite loudly to anyone who would listen about how bloody unfair it was that he couldn't collect more unemployment (he said he worked and was on the dole but "everyone does it"). He said he just didn't really want to work, didn't see the point to it.

Then we took a boat to the Tower of London, sliding down the Thames past London Bridge (or its replacement since it was sold to a US oil company for 1 million pounds in 1973 and now rests in Arizona apparently spanning a river there) to the foreboding Tower Bridge. Walked around the Tower, a medieval fortress begun by William the Conqueror, then expanded by subsequent kings. Never intended as a prison, but used as one, especially in the 1500's when Henry VIII made it quite famous. Didn't have enough time to go inside, but the next day Susan gave me permission to return.

Friday, October 13, 2000

The Tower Of London

Returned alone to see the Tower of London while Susan took Christopher Peter and Isabella with Aunt Mariann to the Transportation Museum. This time, I took a tour, guided by one of the "Beefeaters" in the bright red Elizabethan costumes. He sang out his guide in a sing-song voice, taking apparent delight in outlining the gore that was seen just within and without the Tower walls.

He asked us all to look to the hill overlooking the Tower and imagine what it must have been like to have been led out the gate for the last time after arriving the night prior through Traitor's Gate, on the river itself, then going up the hill for the execution. A crowd, most given the day off for the event, may have numbered in the thousands. Stands erected for the crowd sometimes collapsed from the weight.

The prisoner would usually say a few words to the crowd, asking forgiveness, then give a few gold pieces to the executioner in the hope he would do a quick job. "Severance pay." The crowd - with women, children, whole families having a picnic - would be jeering, then would burst into cheers when the executioner held up the head and declared: "Behold the head of a traitor! So die all traitors! Long live the King!" The head would then be impaled on a spike and displayed on the London Bridge - then the only bridge across the River Thames - as a warning to other traitors; the headless body would be carted down to the tower and dumped in the river or stacked in the "Corpse Hole" for hasty burial in a shallow grave.

The hill was for commoners; nobility would be executed privately within the Tower.

He then led us under an ancient portcullis - "be careful because the portcullis weighs 2 tons, is several hundred years old, and most importantly is supported by a rope that is also several hundred years old."

He nodded to a woman with red hair, telling her that all women executed at the Tower had red hair - after the executioner's axe fell, they were all streaked with red.

He showed us the tower where Sir Walter Ralegh was imprisoned for 13 years "with the most unimaginably cruel conditions because he was imprisoned for 13 years with his wife."

After asking the children to gather close, he told of a dungeon where people were tortured with 15 foot thick walls through which no one could hear your cries of agony, and where the only light would have been from your torturer's candle or your inquisitor's lantern.

He showed us a scaffold used only 6 times within the grounds, a peaceful green place surrounded by the buildings now housing the regiment that guards the place. Ann Boleyn, Catherine Howard and Jane Gray were all executed there. We filed into a small cathedral under which they discovered thousands of bodies during a recent renovation, all of which were given a Christian burial and interred in the walls. Memorials to all those who were killed were also found there.

I then saw the Queen's jewels, not very inspiring for a regiphobe, but I imagine they would have been impressive for someone who took the idea of monarchy a bit more seriously than I do. The guards outside the tower in which the jewels were stored had locked and loaded modern assault rifles with bayonets fixed. One of the guards told me an IRA bomb had recently been discovered nearby and threats are received all the time.

The Imperial War Museum

I then took the Tube and a bus over to the Imperial War Museum, an impressive display of aircraft, weapons, and various collections about the First and Second World Wars.

The V1 bomb was on display, first used in June, 1944, which had an engine that would cut off after a certain predetermined number of miles had been flown.

A V2, first used in September, 1944, was on display. During the peak month of December, 1944, 100 rockets were landing a week in London. Unlike the V1, you couldn't hear the V2 coming and there was no real adequate defense short of bombing the production and launching facilities. They could deliver nearly a ton of high explosives at a range of 186 miles.

The Holocaust Display on the third floor was also very impressive:

- During the first Crusades in 1096, a third of the Jews in Europe were killed.

-In 1290, Jews were expelled from England and not readmitted until the 1600's.

-In July, 1938, at the Evian Conference, most Western countries decided to limit the number of Jewish refugees they would accept, citing overcrowding, unemployment, and antisemitism. On 3 June, 1939, the United States turned away 139 Jews seeking refuge aboard the St. Louis.

-In October, 1939, Operation T4 was launched in Nazi Germany which lebensunwert- mainly the mentally ill and retarded - were euthanized.

-On 31 July, 1941, Goering gave the order to draw up the final plans for the "final solution to the Jewish question"; although no known written order was ever given by Hitler, it was no doubt given verbally.

-In December, 1941, the Nazis built the first dedicated Death Camp (Vernichtungslager) at Chelmno.

-Although initial reports of 4 million dead at Auschwitz were discounted (correctly) as Soviet exaggeration, and the camp commandant's boast of having killed 2 million was also excessive, the final estimate of 1.1 million dead of 1.3 million arrivals was horrifying.

-To show the irony of war, 7,500 concentration camp prisoners drowned when British planes sank the Carpaco and the Thielbek on 2 May 1945. This was the second greatest sea disaster in history.

As if any additional reminder were needed, the cost of war in the 20th Century was staggering: a counter displayed in the War Museum stopped counting at 100,749,132 on December 31, 1999.

I also entered a reenactment of the Blitz, complete with bomb shelter, surround sound stereo effects, the smell of coal dust, a bench that lurched forward after a particularly hard bomb blast. After the last blast, you emerge from the shelter onto a darkened street with damage, fires glowing in the distance, etc.

60,000 civilians died in Britain as a result of the German air war. Much less than a single day in Dresden.

Hurried home to join Susan to see a play with Kevin Chang, the Guardsman, a rather dark period piece translated from its original Hungarian. Ice cream at intermission, a London theater tradition apparently. Dinner at an Australian restaurant.

Saturday-Sunday, October 14-15, 2000

Visited Bath after a 2.5 hour drive. Driving on the left is frustrating, particularly through the endless "roundabouts" or traffic circles. Determining who is going where and who has the right of way is very strange for an American driver.

Bath, where Jane Austen lived for several years, is very pretty. The Baths, resurrected from their Roman glory by the Victorians, are very interesting, reminiscent of Pompeii in the sense that you see this extremely advanced society that subsequently crumbled. The baths bubble up from 4,000 meters below the earth, then were channeled into an elaborate series of pools by the Romans, whose handiwork could still be seen. The mosaics, central heating, hollowed heated brick arches, and sculptures all give pause. Britain was part of the Roman empire for about 400 years, after which it degenerated into tribal warfare and was invaded by the Angles, Saxons, and Jutes.

The streets of Bath had quaint names such as "Quiet," "Queen," and "Cheap." Isabella insisted on being carried most of the time and Christopher Peter insisted on riding in the stroller intended for Isabella (stating he had no "energy") so covering any amount of distance was difficult although we managed.

Mike and Mariann joined us through most of our time at Bath but departed today on a train for London.

We are staying at a guest house in the countryside overlooking the green hills outside Bath. It is quite pretty but unfortunately quite gray and dark. The British all seem very pale, in desperate need of a good blast of tropical sunlight.

Monday, October 16, 2000

Today was a day off for the kids; took Christopher Peter and Isabella to a playground (Victoria Park) in Bath where they played most of the morning and into the afternoon after enjoying a large "English style" (artery clogging) breakfast at the bed and breakfast. Christopher Peter tried Maramite but didn't like it (nor did I); very salty, black, nasty stuff.

The weather was a bit clearer. Drove to the border with Wales then decided to turn back to stay with Aunt Mariann when Isabella woke from a nightmare and I realized I didn't have enough clean underwear.

Isabella knows and can sing the following song:

The moral of

The story is clear

Instead of bourbon

Stick to beer!

Drove through London at night on way back; the theater district, Trafalgar Square, Parliament, Big Ben, all lit up. Christopher Peter had to stop to go to the bathroom - no he couldn't wait - so we stopped on Baker Street and Christopher Peter took a leak at Charing Cross Station. Apparently it cost 20 pence or whatever to use the bathroom and while Susan was fumbling for the change, Christopher Peter said he couldn't wait, so he ducked under the barrier and went into the latrine. The stationmaster came along just as Susan was advising him to do this and wordlessly let them into the bathroom.

Tuesday, October 17, 2000

Arundel Castle

Drove to Arundel Castle, a place south of London recommended by the cabbie who drove us from the airport to Mariann's apartment. The drive, like any involving London traffic with their inexplicably cryptic signs (no street names, no exit numbers, just these damned "turnabouts" with their signs pointing to this destination or that), was frustrating and took 2.5 hours but was well worth it.

Once out of the London suburban sprawl, the road became winding with views of green rolling hills covered with sheep and crisscrossed by hedgerows. The castle was almost on the coast and one could see the English Channel from the main keep or tower. Sticker shock when we refilled the gas tank: 40 pounds or about $60. It worked out to about $6 a gallon.

Since Isabella was asleep, Christopher Peter and I went walking along a raised path near the river, our first country walk in England. Christopher Peter while pretending to be a train told me he liked England but thought it was a little boring and wondered why it rained so much. I also asked him why trucks were called lorries and french fries were called chips and he shrugged his shoulders and said, "that's just the way the world is" (something I think I told him).

We passed a woman with a dog who asked, "is he nervous of the dog?" and immediately put it on a leash. There are these idiomatic differences, (nervous of v. nervous about) that make British England so different from ours but in subtle ways.

The castle itself towered over the medieval town and seemed to gain in size as you walked up the winding approach. The main building was only about a century old, built in Victorian times by the Duke of Norfolk who, although Catholic, had managed to survive not only modern times but remarkably those of Henry VIII. The church associated with the castle is Catholic and quite large and fully lit at night (as we saw later). The descendants of the Duke of Norfolk (including the current Duke) apparently live in a wing of the castle to this day and move into the entire castle when the tourist season ends (the last Friday of October until April).

The castle looks - unlike so many other disappointingly medieval castles we've seen elsewhere - as an American expects a castle should look complete with crenalation, a draw bridge, portcullises, both rounded and square norman towers, and a main keep overlooking a central quadrangle. We climbed the main keep through claustrophobically narrow stone stairs spiralling up to the top, then looked out and could see the Channel in the distance. The day was one of the few sunny ones we had since we've been in this godforsaken country, so we could see quite far. Christopher Peter was very impressed.