Coming Home

We will be getting up early tomorrow to get to the airport and fly home. This one solid day in Amsterdam was well spent. Two museums were visited, miles walked, and a great Thai restaurant was patronized. The first museum was the Van Gogh, and it was quite an impressive tour. We must have spent about two hours or more there, even eating lunch there to maximize our time. The second museum was the Anne Frank house, and I cannot adequately put into words how the place made me feel. It was the most visceral reaction I have ever had to a museum, and I had a hard time keeping my emotions in check. I will post no photo for this last entry; I am too full to comment further and we are looking forward to going home.

Amsterdam

For the last two days of this trip we will enjoy a very clean,modern apartment near Dam Square. This is probably not the best of neighborhoods (there are at least three bordellos right across the street) but I think we picked the right place anyway. The host has thought of everything and the place is spotless.
We walked around a bit yesterday, but today will be our major outing to the Van Gough Museum some distance from here. I bought the tickets last month, and I think it should be worth the hike. As far as first impressions of this city are concerned, I will say that Amsterdam is not as clean a city as Brussels. There is more trash in the streets (indeed, it was hard to find ANY trash in the streets in Brussels, even after the big student riot of Saint V day). I think this may be the result of the place's laid back attitude towards all vice. If you are willing as a society to accept gambling, widespread public drinking, legalized marijuana and prostitution, then what is a bit of litter to worry over? I am not knocking this place by any means. The architecture is a weird Dr. Seuss type of leaning, crooked buildings, charming to gaze upon, and the widespread accommodation for bicycle riders is admirable.

Belgium Rocks!

Brussels: it's like Paris, only smaller, cheaper, and it has french fries! (Ok, they call them Belgian Frites here, but you get the idea.) We have been so comfortable for the last couple of days, and I have been so busy at the conference, that I have not had time to collect my thoughts here. All I can say is that I wish we had spent the last two weeks in this flat rather than the one we rented in London. This city is very clean, the people are very friendly, and everyone seems to speak English without any sort of attitude.
The conference has been great, although I confess it has made me feel somewhat irrelevant. The emphasis has been entirely on digital records, and one presenter made the compelling case that “paper can wait” as archives prepare to set standards for an entirely digital world. Still, there will be a place for people with my very limited skills to do the descriptive work that puts documents in context, so I won’t lose any sleep. My favorite presentation was from two academics from the University of Saskatchewan who had done research into people’s expectation of privacy online and in the new social networking environment. Surprisingly their conclusions confirmed that many young people would prefer paper to online resources, although it is clear they do not consistently act on that preference.
The city itself is beautiful. Jayne and I will spend our last night here exploring all the side streets around the Grand Place, the elaborated cobblestone square

that is the site of the town hall and all the action around here. We took a horse carriage tour the other day, but now that the conference is over we will see what it is like at night. Jayne has more or less been homebound while I have been at the conference, so it will be nice to go out together on our last evening.

In Bruges

We watched a pretty good dark comedy before we came on this trip titled “In Bruges.” Starring Colin Ferrell, the film was about two hit men hiding out in the charming old Belgian city, and it was filmed on location. This movie gave us an idea what to expect yesterday, but we were still impressed with the winding streets and old buildings. The town is surrounded, and bisected, by canals that come right up to the foundations of the buildings and that are traversed by bridges that look like something out of Venice (if Venice was a cold, overcast, and chilly place.) We had lunch at a tavern that was recommended in a guidebook that promised “only the locals know about it.” Well, only the locals and anyone who read that book, but we were pleasantly surprised when we entered the place and found it as old fashioned as you could possibly want. It was built in 1515 and had a very warm wood burning stove in the dark, wood paneled dining room. A resident dog, possibly a Jack Russell variety, wandered around the tables but we were strictly charged not to feed him. That was a difficult directive since the little fellow took a special liking to me and was cute as hell. The train ride from Brussels to Bruges was really short, and the return trip was brightened by the sun peeking out of the southwest horizon. The countryside is green and very, very muddy, but the houses seem tidy and prosperous. We got back to our palatial apartment before dark, and today we will venture out to see more of this city. I am especially interested in locating the venue for my conference tomorrow morning, and we will likely begin walking in that direction.

Final Days in London

We did something before we left England that I wish we had tried to do more; we booked a tour bus to visit sites outside the city. Unlike the journey to Oxford, we had a talkative guide and a long, meandering journey across the countryside. The hardest part of the trip was getting up early in the morning to take the tube to the bus station. After that, everything got easy, and my only complaint would be the bus seats, which were designed for very, very small people with bent spines.

Our first stop was Stonehenge, and it was truly a profound experience. Not only are the mysterious stones standing in their classic arrangement on Salisbury Plain, but also the surrounding quiet countryside is littered with ancient burial mounds which give the place a real Druidish feeling (is that even a word?)

Jayne at the Roman Baths

From Stonehenge our chirpy guide took us to Bath, and it was the prettiest drive and city we have seen to date. I wish we had booked our time to stay at this place rather than the dreary environs of Brick Lane. There was far too much to see of this lovely place in the three hours we were allotted. Bath was filled with charming streets, old buildings, and lots of different places to shop and eat. Our tour included admission to the Roman baths, which was an incredible museum built so that one could feel as if he was seeing the place in the first century AD. It is a pity the water is so polluted that you cannot get in it because this is Britains only hot spring, and it is truly lovely.

Following our return to London, we spent our final day on a trip to the British Library, which in many ways was the highlight of the trip. There we saw the Magna Carta, the Gutenberg Bible, and even lyrics written by John Lennon and Paul McCartney. What a treat! A true library that actually takes their custodianship of books to be their central mission, I found this place to be an almost heavenly alternative to the digitally obsessed profession in which I find myself.

Today we took our leave of our London apartment in order to journey to Brussels. We were glad to leave because our Brick Lane flat was, by any objective description, a dump. Aside from the obvious mold, dirt, and Pharaoh ants, I had to toss a bum from our doorstep on two different occasions. I saw the second miscreant walking down the sidewalk before we left and took a surreptitious photograph of him as he cruised looking for another doorway in which to pee or sleep.  (But the photograph was mistakenly deleted from this entry --addendum Dec. 20, 2013)

The students at the Saint V Day beer bust in Brussels

We boarded the Eurostar train this morning, a sleek, bullet transport that goes under the English Channel in almost less time than your gaseous correspondent can describe it. A quick dash across norther France and we were in Brussels. I found the city maps here just as incomprehensible as London, so I splurged on a cab to take us to our next apartment. Here is where I sit typing this entry, and I must say it is PARADISE compared to our last crash pad. This place is a one bedroom palace, with a large bedroom, bathroom, spotless kitchen, and comfortable living room. No sooner had we taken possession than we left to investigate the booming crowd no more than a block away. Imagine our surprise when we stumbled on thousands upon thousands of college students swilling beer in the streets as they followed trucks around distributing brew from kegs. It was Saint V Day, and who would have known we would be stumbling into the heart of it entirely by chance. A fantastic coincidence! After viewing the revelry we required to our apartment for a quiet dinner, a few beers of my own, and some bizarre French television before bed. Tomorrow: Bruges!

Disorientation

London is big. London is expensive. London is exhausting. The last couple of days we have walked so far, and seen so little, that it is discouraging. There is simply too much of this place: history, buildings, artwork, good food, etc. etc. that even with the extended stay I feel as if I have barely scratched the surface. Going to Oxford was a good example. We got up early in the morning under the mistaken impression that tickets would be cheaper and ended up spending way too much money and time on the trains to our destination. Once there, I again found the ancient street patterns to disorienting to navigate correctly and we ended up a an ancient Norman tower that had no listing on my planned sightseeing route.

The tower was actually the site of an old prison after the days of knights and robber barons, and the tour was very nice, allowing us to go up to the top and gaze upon the dreamy spires of Oxford. Most interesting was the fact that the prison had been made into a four star hotel, and one of their staff allowed us to see the transformation of the place inside.

After that, our wanderings in Oxford at least took in some of the highlights. Two other old towers one could climb for a few pounds admission, a visit to Blackwell’s bookstore (most impressive) and then over to the Boedlian Library which had to be the most disappointing. Their free exhibit room was closed, we decided against paying a steep fee for the thirty minute peek at the place, so we had to content ourselves with a walk around the outside of the place and a few minutes in the very heart of the interior square.

We also went to the Radcliffe Camera and the nearby science museum before having a drink in a canal-side pub and heading back to ondon. While I am glad to say I have seen Oxford, I do not believe it was worth the nearly two hour journey by tube and train both ways.

Yesterday we walked down to have a look at St. Paul’s cathedral and the Cheshire Cheese pub. The first was more large than it was beautiful, and admission to the second was about the same price but included a cold cider and some fish and chips. Sixteen pounds to simply enter a church to gaze in silent reflection at its marvels could not compete with the chance to refresh ourselves at one of London’s oldest watering holes, a place that reeked of antiquity, having been rebuilt after the great fire of 1666. We enjoyed our break deep underground in a place where one of my height would be in constant danger of banging his head.

Our return march last night took us to the upper end of Brick Lane, a place of fashionable shops, trendy nightclubs, and crowed streets. Now we know why all the rowdy people pass by our place at night. They quickly pass by the dismal curry joints on our block while headed to the action just a about a half mile away.

More Art, High and Low

Today’s march was unique since it did not involve one session on the tube at all (with the exception of using a tube access to cross a busy intersection.) Our goal today was to view the work of Banksy, a rather famous graffiti artist whose works are, by their very nature, quite ephemeral. There are several locations just a few blocks from our flat where the mysterious artist has left his mark, including several large works in the courtyard of a nightclub called the Cargo.

Looking for the traces of this fellow is a bit like doing urban geocaching, without a compass, and since he is somewhat of an outlaw his works are sometimes “buffed” away no sooner than they are put up. After our foray into modern urban art we came to a place where Jayne will likely want to go in the afterlife: a giant flea market. The Spitalfields Market was like a yard sale with no end, and Jayne’s paradise included lots of knickknacks that she and I both lusted after.

In her case, a lovely stamped metal hand letter clasp, and in my case yet another high quality black felt hat. We both managed to resist temptation, but of course now have non buyer’s remorse. Our next objective was the London Museum, which was a confusing hike even with the aid of a city map. Aside from taking the aforementioned underground passage to cross the busy street, we stayed topside, yet due to the mediaeval layout of this ancient city may normal impeccable navigational skills failed me. We stumbled upon an ancient burial field which included the graves of William Blake and Daniel DeFoe. After reciting a few lines of “Tyger, tyger, burning in the night,” I was gazing upon some other ancient graves when I was accosted with a squirrel

of amazingly menacing presence. He scared the shit out of me, and I was relieved when Jayne came to snap a picture of his menacing presence. After that we wandered aimlessly in the direction of the museum, but I was never sure where we were even with the help of the map. Fortunately at the last moment we were accosted by none other than Alan H. Willcocks,

a friendly pensioner who lived at the Barbicon Terrace housing project near the London Museum. Alan led us through a labyrinth of passageways, which included part of the original Roman walls of the ancient city of Londinium, to bring us safetly through to the museum. He was a charming old fellow and we really enjoyed our private tour through his housing development. The museum was
amazing, with exhibits that traced the history of London through prehistoric times all the way through the present day. I particularly enjoyed the Roman period, when the city was first established as a fortified trade center. The nineteenth century area was of interest as well, and we even saw the Lord Mayor’s gilded carriage close up, the same one we saw last week when the contemporary executive was “sworn in” during the course of a giant parade. After that, we made our way home for a dinner prepared in our own flat.

Art High and Low

When it is sunny, London can be very cheerful and busy. The warming rays seem to bring everyone out of their homes and into the streets. That was certainly the case yesterday when we made our way down to the National Gallery in the morning to vainly attempt seeing some of the world’s greatest art in an hour or so. It is in a building suitably grand for the display of its contents and there we saw masterpieces of Monet, Renoir, and even Leonardo.

While iconic Christian scenes are not precisely my bag, I could not help but feel moved while I sat and stared at Leonardo’s Virgin and Child in the Rocks. So what is the Louvre has another copy a little bit older? This one will do for today, and I practically had the painting all to myself. There are few crowds at any of the popular attractions here at this time of year in spite of all the people outside enjoying the sunshine. An exception to that crowd generalization occurred at our next stop. First a disclaimer: I do not wish to offend any of my friends who are members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, but it must be admitted that “The Book of Mormon” is the funniest musical I have ever seen. We entered the theater with high hopes and were not disappointed. The biting sarcasm of this play was tempered with catchy tunes and a tone of real humanity in the chemistry between

the two male leads. That being said, any Mormon going to see this show would have to have some pretty thick skin to enjoy it, for the presentation depended on mocking the apparently unlimited credulity shared by members of the faith. This was the first professional “Broadway’ style show we had ever seen, and we laughed until our sides hurt. Our sides did not hurt us enough to prevent enjoying a nice meal on the way home. I had a “Scotch Egg,” which was rather tasty, while Jayne went for a shrimp cocktail. The city lights were beautiful as we strolled home.

Marching to Southbank

Every day here is a physical challenge because there are miles to cover even with the help of the tube. Today we walked an extra few miles due to my own arrogance in my navigation abilities.

You see, I simply forgot the difference between “London Bridge” and “Tower Bridge,” much the same way as the developer of Lake Havasu City in Arizona. In his case it cost him millions, in our case it led to several minutes of embarassing disorientation until I could understand my mistake.

It was pretty cool to walk across the Tower Bridge none the less. It is a marvel of nineteenth century engineering, and I only wish we could actually see it rise for a tall ship while we are here. Once we were on the south bank we wandered in a generally westerly direction which eventually brought us to Southwark Cathedral.

It is odd to go into these ancient churches which contain the bones of many parishioners who shuffled off their mortal coils over the years. No one particularly famous was located beneath the floor, but there were impressive vestibules dedicated to the flounder of Harvard College and William Shakespeare, along with a memorial stone to a bunch of poor bastards who drowned in a boating disaster nearby on the Thames river. Overall a somber experience.

From there we went to see a replica of the “Golden Hind,” the ship of Sir Francis Drake, but I kept hearing the Firesign Theater in my head doing their bit from “Everything You Know is Wrong,” when they mocked a travel show hosted by “Bob Hind.” From that location we strolled through Borough Market where strange foodstuffs were on display, and then to the Anchor Tavern, which is allegedly one of London’s oldest. Proper lubrication allowed us to pass by the Globe Theater and head towards the London Eye, the giant Ferris Wheel that lets one rise high into the sky overlooking the House of Parliament, Big Ben, and a host of other landmarks.

It was quite a sight, especially after the sun went down at five pm. We hiked on after that, crossing to the north bank of the Thames and the correct tube station where we caught a train home. I now sit with aching legs, quaffing cold cider, and digesting a delicious ham and chicken pie purchased at the Ginger Pig. More marching awaits us tomorrow.

A bummer and bumming around

This morning I had a rather unique experience when I opened the door to our apartment only to discover a homeless man stretched out across the threshold. Not the most pleasant way to greet the new day, and I had to draw myself up to full height before telling the fellow to push off. He did so without so much as a wimper, but I must admit the experience shook me up more than him. We have been here since last Wednesday, and have seen quite a bit for such a short period of time. On Thursday we went to the Tower of London where we enjoyed the tour given by a “Beefeater” who could easily have been a stand up comic. That is no small feat for someone who is charged with regaling visitors with gruesome tales of imprisonment and dismemberment. The fortress itself was very impressive, and although we spent at least two hours there I doubt we saw half of it. The place was delightfully deserted, too, and there was absolutely no line to go and view the crown jewels or to view any of the other treasures. The next day we went to see the British Museum and again found it so vast that I doubt we explored the half of it. It was a real pleasure to see the Rosetta Stone, and the Elgin Marbles from the Parthenon, but there were so many relics and antiquities that it became overwhelming after a while.

I had not realized how many souvenirs one could make of the Rosetta Stone: ties, paperweights, stress squeezers, mouse pads, earrings, etc. etc. We did not opt for any of the gift shop offerings. We left that place and walked up to the next underground station located near the city college of London where we stopped in to give our regards to Jeremy Bentham, whose remains have been stuffed and seated in a corner since the 1830s. When I asked a guard where we could find him, the fellow answered, “There’ss no hurry; he’s not going anywhere, is he?” On Saturday we saw the Lord Mayor’s show, a long parade which I already summarized on my Facebook page, and afterwards saw “Let it Be,’ a Beatles tribute band that put on a very energetic show at the Savoy theater. That was a fun day. On Sunday, the very somber Remembrance Day ceremony at the Cenotaph where the Queen and family were in attendance and we watched from some unbelievably comfortable seats in a nearby pub. We also saw Picadilly Circus and Trafalgar Square. After kicking the bum off our doorstep, Jayne and I made our way to Wimbledon to visit the aunt of Jayne’s niece. Mirabelle was a very charming hostess and took us all around Richmond Park where the views were obscured by some pretty rainy and overcast conditions but beautiful nonetheless. Mirabelle served us dinner at her home, and got us back to the tube station in enough time to take the train back home by 10:30 pm. I wonder what today’s wanderings will be?

Access to the Blog at last

Well, at long last the ultra cautious folks at Google will allow me to access my own blog, and perhaps even print a photograph or two. I have been trying to get on this thing since last Wednesday, but since I do not have a mobile phone the safety features were impossible to bypass. At least now I have a chance to write, all depending on the mercy of the rather sketch internet connection in this apartment. Our little flat is exactly that; little. There are no chairs, just a couch, bed, coffee table, and kitchen with a fold out dining table but no so much as a stick to sit on. I suppose its some sort of minimalist lifestyle, but even with all its funkyness it is not a bad deal. We are saving enough on lodging to do a few other things with our budget. We went to see a Beatles tribute show

in a Savoy theater the other night. It was quite a show, and we were among the many geezers in attendance. I really appreciated the music and it set the tone for this visit very well. I am just going to stop this entry for now to see if it works. Nothing is more frustrating than attempting a lengthy essay and having the machine die.

Off to Europe

It has been a while since I last contributed to this blog, and now I find my entries will belie its title. We are off for a tour of London, Brussels, Bruges, and Amsterdam tomorrow and will no doubt see a few interesting things to write about. Getting ready for one of these expeditions is always taxing. We have so many details to cover, and we are lucky that Benjamin will be able to live in our house until we return. Willie, the little white dog, will be glad for the company, and I will be able to relax knowing that Toad Hall is in good hands.