"Stonehenge was in danger of being crushed by dwarves!"

Luckily the Stonehenge I saw on Saturday, was in fact 18', not 18". Ross and I left early Saturday morning, checked out of our hostel, and were soon on our way to the magical little town of Bath, England. The city of Bath was named thus because of the Roman baths that were built there. We didn't make it to any of them, but we did enjoy a nice lunch at the Pig and Fiddle, then found our tour bus. The tour guide was very informative, and kept up a good monologue all the way to Stonehenge (if people would have asked more questions, it probably would have been a very interesting dialogue; he told us he liked questions, and that if we were bored it was our own fault). One of the places we drove past was a small village where if you dig a little into the earth of the hills you hit a white rock, and there are several large horses carved into the earth on several of the hills. He pointed one out, and they're much like the Hollywood sign in Los Angeles, except it's a medieval horse drawing in the earth itself. Either way, you know where you are. The bus was really stuffy, however, and I think just about everyone took a turn dozing by the end. We arrived at Stonehenge and were allowed about an hour, which is plenty of time to walk around it (the closest you get to the structure now is about 100ft away, unfortunately), but not nearly enough to sit and stare for too long from any specific angle. I took more pictures than I needed...it pretty much looks the same all the way around. It's one thing to look at the actual stones, I could have stood there all day just wondering and imagining things, so I realize that the pictures won't be terribly exciting. The audioguide they gave us was helpful to a degree; at a certain point you're pretty tired of hearing "No one is quite sure why/how this is, but some theories are..." when they could have just given you the theories. They think it was built about 3,000 years ago, and the stones would have been brought from the south of Wales, I think, quite a ways off. There's something interesting about the kind of stone they used, as well, which is that it stays warmer than other stones. The people who built it may have found this to be a religious or medical reason for bringing these specific stones, as opposed to just using any of the perfectly good rock in the area. The surrounding land is mostly grazing and straw growing; rolling English country-side. It was a beautiful area, but the guide said that on most occasions its pretty cold, often much colder than it looks, very windy, and miserable when it rains (which is not infrequent). The day we were there as you can see it was quite clear, fairly windy, but not too cold for the most part.

Me and the stones.
The not-so-rolling-inclined stones. Apparently 1/3 of each standing stone is underground.
The big one to the right is the Heel Stone. I had to look that up because I couldn't remember the name. I wanted to call it the Pointer Stone, but I think that was one of Pete's horses.
The flat bit of rock in front of the henge ("Whatever is a henge, anyway?") is the Slaughter Stone (didn't forget that one...). It was named that because it was really smooth, I think.
Me being artsy again. You learn quick that "art" to me in photography is pretty much black and white, or sepia.

Case in point...I just like this one because it looks like two E.T.s playing hide and seek.

After Stonehenge, our tour went a little further down the way to a small medieval village, Lacock. Most of the village is maintained as it would have looked in (I think) the 1400s. And it looks exactly the same, excepting the people's clothing, the cars, and the streets. The outsides of the buildings are all required by law, however, to be maintained in the traditional fashion. There are a couple of slate rooves, but most are thatched. I didn't take too many pictures here because a.) people live here, and b.) I was spending way too much time trying not to look like I was sword fighting. Much to my chagrin (which is actually the example sentence used for that word in my dictionary), however, many of the people on the tour found the town much more interesting whenever the guide pointed out a spot that was used in the Harry Potter movies. Ross found this amusing, and continued throughout the trip to say things like "OMG! Tim! This, is, Smurglburg," or some Harry Potter placename. "This is Harry Potter's house! Can you believe it?! It's his actual house!" I perpetuated the madness by constantly replying "Yes, but this is also an actual 15th century building, where actual 15th century people lived, that has been actually maintained to actually look like the actual building would have actually looked in its actual time-period!" England's oldest pub is in this town, as well.
A house being rethatched.
These are two ridiculous-looking cats looking ridiculous.

We returned to Bath, had dinner, and after a little time at a nearby pub (this is the national pastime, I've learned) hit the hay. The next morning we checked out of the hostel, and I caught a 10:00 train back to London on my way to Aberdeen for school to start. Ross's mom was going to catch up with him at some point, but I think he was going to Edinburgh before she got here. In any event, I spent my entire Sunday on a train. I went about two hours back to London, then off into Wales somewhere, then I changed trains onto a four hour ride to Manchester, another change to another four and a half hour train to Edinburgh, then from Edinburgh I took a one and a half hour bus ride to Dundee, and finally from Dundee I took a one hour train to Aberdeen. All I'd eaten was a to-go meat pie in the Manchester station. I got some cookies out of a vending machine at the station in Dundee, and those pretty much held me over until Monday. I arrived at the Aberdeen station at 12:30, and waited in a que for a cab until 1:15. I was finally on campus by about 1:45. My cab driver was a really nice, very informative guy. I don't remember his name, but he looked like Randy Olsen(?...from church, bald guy with the beard), and here I got my first taste of the Aberdeen brogue. It's a little different from what I'd heard before, and I think Braveheart tones down a lot of the accents so you can understand them more easily. He explained a lot about the town, and used a lot of funny phrases I wish I could pull off like "...and while you're oot party-partying" and stuff like that. I got to the hall, checked in (24-hour staff is nice), found my room, unpacked a bit and went right to bed.

"Put him in the tower of London...make him part of the tour."

And indeed we did see the Tower. However, we'll start with Thursday night. Thursday night, being thoroughly exhausted (for whatever reason Ross couldn't actually sleep on the Eurostar on the way to London), we checked in to our hostel, had lunch at the Indian place I mentioned, and commenced wandering. We did a pretty good walk about, crossing an interesting bridge that Ross initially thought was the Millennium Bridge. Turns out it just looked cool. Then we stopped on the other side to see some street performers (one was extremely animated, had a gift for attracting a crowd and insulting various members of it, but had way too much build-up and an act that has definitely been done before). We stopped at the London Eye, another big-city construction for the World's Fair. This, however, is a giant ferris wheel that takes half an hour to go all the way round and gives you a fantastic view of the city. My camera was still dead at this point, so Ross has all the pictures from Thursday. Afterward, we strolled past a Dahli exhibit, down the Westminster Bridge (in the middle of which was a piper playing for money), and right to the statue of Boudica at the end. I wasn't expecting this at all, and had totally forgotten about the statue or that it was in London, and recognized it immediately. Boudica was a 1st century B.C.E. Celtic queen who led a revolt against the invading Roman armies after Rome ignored her right as a woman to be the leader of a tribe. She successfully mounted several assaults on the Romans, but was later defeated and made a martyr for the British Celts. I have a pretty good picture of me by the statue, but it's on Ross's card. I'll have a post dedicated to old pictures later on when I get access to the photos. The statue is also right next to Westminster Abbey, so we walked around that, Big Ben, the statues of British heros (among them the statue of Oliver Cromwell...hmm), and various other buildings of import that we couldn't actually identify at the time. It was getting late, we'd done a fair amount of walking, and being hungry and tired, we stopped at the first food place we came to and after a meal of all-you-can-eat Asian food trotted off back to the hostel for beddy-bye.

Friday was a bit more exciting, picture-wise, as I had time to charge my camera before we left. We really only had one day in London as far as actually doing things was concerned. We started off late, however, so first thing we did was get some lunch at a small doner kabob place, and we sat near a chapel to eat it (I forget which one...Southwick/wark or something). We decided which museums to try to make before they all close around 5:00pm, and set off to find the London Tower Bridge, and thence to the Tower of London. On the way, however, I spotted a bow...so we turned a bit astray to find:

The full-size reconstruction of Sir Francis Drake's galleon. I got the reader board in the picture purposely so you and I could read it later. We weren't allowed on, but it was pretty cool. Not as big as you'd think, either.

On our way to the bridge, there was this small water feature in the middle of the walkway. I'm not sure if it was actually a drain of some kind, or just a nice touch. Either way, it was kind of cool. Ross was afraid and wanted to find a bridge, so I explained:
I'm on the west bank...
I'm on the east bank...
This ain't exactly the Mississippi.

The Tower of London Bridge. Which I think they actually just call the Tower Bridge. More important (and exciting), however, is the Tower itself, just at the bottom left on the other side of the Thames (I've seen the River Thames--it's brown).

Traitor's Gate, in the Tower of London. I didn't take any pictures of the actual Tower from the outside, and I have no idea why...I was pretty preoccupied with just looking at it. It's everything a castle should be. And so much more.
Ross walking along with the tour. The tour guides are actually Tower guards, and are employed for life, and are very interesting, intelligent, informative people. Our guide was hilarious. Ross noticed that I really wanted to be a tour guide, but I told him the accent didn't come with the uniform, so I was probably a bit out of luck.

These guys were dressed up like Edward III and a bowman. This I could do.

Scottish swords and shield (targe) inside the Tower collection.

Ross was pretty impressed by Henry VIII.

This is a short informative video on Norman toilets. The women coming in after us found it pretty amusing. This was probably my first archaeological faux pas in England.


A bit of digression for real time information: I'm in my dorm room right now, in Aberdeen, blogging for you, eating "Scottish All Butter Shortbread" which I purchased at Lidl's, and someone outside just started playing bagpipes. He actually just started playing Happy Birthday. It all makes sense now. Bagpipes in the dorms would be a bit much to just be whimsically expressing your cultural pride...On we go then.

Rewind to a week and a half ago:

Norman fireplace. The Tower began construction under William the Conqueror, so in many places you can still see the Norman architecture, such as here, and in the toilets above. Many of the window sills as well were Norman.

Armour from the English Civil War (1640s).

Sabres.

Page from a book in the Tower apothecary, or the study...I don't remember which. This page is the start of the author's discourse on "mens," the Latin for "mind," and what it means to have "mens" and how that separates us from animals and whatnot. I took a picture mostly so I could read it later...

King's chambers in the Tower.

Lather, rinse, repeat. The building behind is where Anne Bolin et. al. were kept while they were held prisoners in the Tower. Speaking of Anne Bolin, I heard there was a pretty good movie that just came out about her...


Stained glass window in I think the chapel. This is where Edward III came to pray, I think. I was going to make a comment about how it was also where the royal janitor collected his royal mop, because the left the door open to the left and you could see a mop and a vacuum and all, but I couldn't get a good picture of it.

Ross on the battlements. 4:00, and all's well.

I kind of had to...

So did Ross. I think he looks good in a kettle hat. This is actually where the design for the British military helmets in World War I came from. The Germans got theirs from a Sallet.

That was pretty much it for the Tower. After the Tower we headed to the British Museum, which is one of the best collections of anything anywhere. Another huge museum and we had only about two hours by the time we got there. We had to bypass the Wallace Collection, unfortunately, which is one of the best collections of weapons and armour anywhere. I'll have to make a weekend trip back to London sometime, however.

Babylonian doors? I can't remember, but they're huge, and really old (the bronze metalwork, the wood is reconstructed).

And Pharaoh always looks like he's in trouble, sitting with his hands on his knees.

You don't talk about Pharoh that way. Especially when his arm is eighteen feet long.

The Rosetta Stone. Amazing. Bad picture, but simply amazing.

Totem Poles. The British certainly do get around.

Interesting statue of a Roman boy on horseback, in the gallery.Unwrapped mummy.

Mummy.

Not a mummy.

Rock 'em Sock 'em Mayans (look closely...click on the picture, it gets bigger).

The Lewis Chess Set. This is a Viking chess set made from ivory that was found by a Scottish farmer chasing a stray cow. We actually own a copy of this set.

Old violin. Probably out of tune now...probably out of tune then.

This is the oldest item in the museum. It is a rock that was cut to have a fine edge for cutting in the neolithic or the paleolithic era (I forget which "lithic" it's associated with--point is it's old...really old).

They also happen to have imported an entire temple. It's good to be the king.

And to be sure that we end on a good note, this is a poster in the London metro.
For dinner (we were starving), Ross and I found a fish n' chips place. It was great, but I think you'll find a place that doesn't serve fish n' chips before you find a place that serves bad ones in London. After dinner, we found the actual Millennium Bridge, and crossed it right to the Museum of Modern Art (it's open late), and wandered about the modern art exhibits for a good hour or two. Then it was back to the hostel, hanging out in the pub for a bit, Ross took a dip in the hot tub they had up top, and off to bed for an early rise.

Never wish upon a Eurostar

We'll start with the good news, then we'll try to tell the bad news in a good way. Ross and I woke up and checked out of our hotel on Wednesday, locking our luggage into a closet in the hotel so we could fit in some last minute tourism before catching an 8:20pm Eurostar train from Paris to London, putting us in England at about 10:30 that night. Ross phoned the Selmer and Buffet factories, neither of which was able to offer a tour at such late notice. I forgot about Vandoren until we were out of the city. Then Ross called his host family with whom he'll be staying during his term in Paris to see if he could drop off a bag with him so he didn't have to carry so much around London. We found the apartment, found our way in, and then proceeded to find a place for lunch. On our way, we stumbled right down the street from where Ross was going to be staying to another fantastic French cathedral. We ate lunch at a place nearby that specialized in Caribbean food and specialty and very rare rums. We didn't bother with the rum (most of it was really expensive), but we had a quality meal (and it was surprisingly economic...small, but really cheap and really good). I had a sort of prawn and crab copotte or something. I forget exactly what it was called, but it was prawns, crab, and a bunch of spices cooked in eggs in a custard dish or something. The taste outweighed the texture, and probably since it was pretty much a bowl of protein it stayed with me until dinner. We decided on a few last museums while we ate, and then set off to see Napolean's Tomb.

This is a decoration that they had in the hotel right next to the stairs. I hadn't noticed it until I was waiting outside with Ross on the phone to his host family and realized it was an old pedal-operated Singer sewing machine.

This is the fountain that is sitting outside the cathedral we saw from Ross's host family's apartment.

The cathedral, under construction. This is probably the most attractive aspect (for me) about living in a city that is more than 300 years old, that you literally walk out Ross's apartment door, walk to the corner of the street, look right, and at the end of the street is this.

Napolean's tomb. I lost my ticket somewhere in the armoury, so I wasn't actually allowed inside. Ross saw it, and I got a flyer, so those plus the fact that I've been there pretty much gave me the same feeling as if I'd been inside. The armoury was the important part, anyway...

The first suit of armour (I'm practicing British spelling) you see as you walk into the armoury. Outside the door are two more suits on horseback with lances, their horses rearing, but I didn't take any pictures of them, I don't think. This guy was big.

This guy and I were virtually the same height. Pretty sure I could wear that suit.
I was so mad we couldn't go in this room. There were about six windows just like this one.

Ross and the Horn of Gondor.

What idiot invented glass, anyway?

This one looks just like the cover of our colouring book. Ross thought it was sad that we had a colouring book that was historically accurate suits of armour. I don't see why at all. And speaking of Ross, if you think it's annoying having to look at all these pictures of armour, imagine how he felt. And there were a lot more swords, etc. than I'm bothering to upload.

My battery died sometime in the armoury, and I used Ross's camera to take some more in depth photos. People always look at you funny when you take a picture of a suit of armour's elbow, or his foot or fauld of mail in the back, kind of like, "Dude, it's just a buckle." Oh, how little they know... After the tomb (which was after the armoury), we went to a tapestry museum (mostly famous because of the number of unicorn tapestries) housed in a pretty old building. The building was quite impressive, built on top of a Roman bath which they were currently excavating. I was able to identify the type of Roman brickwork that was still exposed, thanks to my quarter in Rome (opus mixtum, probably early to mid-empire).

Celtic torques (neck-wrings) made from gold; also in the tapestry museum.

Medieval footwear; tapestry museum. This looked about a size 7 1/2.
Once we finished the tapestry museum, we bolted over to yet another museum of art housed in a 16th century mansion. The mansion was pretty cool, and huge. It had obviously been worked on quite a bit, modernized and refurbished throughout the centuries (though thankfully not in ours). A lot of the art was from different periods, one room was a series of burlesque drawings from the late 19th/early 20th century. Since the battery was dead in my camera, I didn't take any pictures in this museum. I'll have to get some from Ross at some point. This, however, is where the day gets interesting, and not in a pre-17th century way (for once).

Ross and I had dinner back near the hotel, picked up our bags, and made our way to the train station to catch our Eurostar. It's the only train that goes to London from Paris, and it does it in almost record time (it takes about two hours, and the trip from Seattle to Vancouver by train, which is shorter (not to mention it doesn't go underwater), rarely takes less than three and a half hours). However, there had apparently been a fire in the tunnel that goes beneath the English Channel (affectionately referred to as the "Chunnel") several days prior. The Eurostar company had not notified anyone, and it was only allowing a certain number of trains through per day, compromising many people's trains. Ours was compromised. When we arrived they explained that we would have to wait until the next train, which left at 6:45am the next morning. We lost one night at our hostel in London, and after about three hours of calling hotels in Paris we couldn't find a room. One of the guys that worked for the Eurostar told us we could stay in the station. After a brief fiasco with the station's baggage check area, we took our bags over to a nearby hotel (which was unfortunately full for the night) and locked them up there for 12 euros. We returned to the station to find somewhere remotely warm to sleep until the morning. At about 1:30am, French police and police dogs (that would not stop barking) came to tell us we were not allowed to stay in the station. Now we were out on the streets. Standing in front of the station, the doors blocked by police officers, and the far corner covered in a makeshift hobo camp, we set off to see if we could stay somewhere else. There were no rooms nearby, and we didn't want to stay in an ally or a metro station. Luckily, one of the nearby hotel tenants told us about a 24 hour bar just down the street. We got in and it was warm, finally, and Ross tried haphazardly to nap on the table while I read "Playing for Pizza" (finished it, by the way) and ordered a beer about every 45 minutes so we looked like customers until 5:00am. Then the station looked a little more open, so we wandered back to the hotel, picked up our bags, and waited where we thought the line began for the Eurostar until 6:40. Then we tried to get through, when we were told the que began at the bottom of the stairs, on the other side. Now we were about 100 people back, and none of these people had arrived before us. We were definitely the first people in the station, and because they hadn't blocked off the front stairway properly, we were now literally more than 100 people back in line. After waiting anxiously for about 45 more minutes to see if we could even get our tickets exchanged, they exchanged them and hurried us up the stairs to customs and security. I got through customs just fine, since I had my visa and was just going to the U.K.. Ross on the other hand only had a passport, no French or English visa (because his program was short enough it didn't require him to have one), and unfortunately was detained because he didn't have a ticket or proof for when he would be leaving the U.K. (he was planning on meeting up with his mom in London after I left for Aberdeen, and he wasn't sure how long they were going to spend in the U.K.). I was urgently pushed through security. I tried to wait for Ross, and when he was led away I thought he was finally getting into the security line to have his bags scanned...but he didn't come out the other side. Eurostar staff were constantly telling me to keep moving and get on the train, and after a lot of waiting, worrying, and even more berrating from the staff I went down the stairs and got on the train, hoping Ross would make it or already be on. Not having slept all night, I was out immediately once I was in my seat, stress or no. Once in London, I was very happy to be in an English speaking country again (especially since I didn't have Ross with me to translate had I been somewhere French). I got off the train, found and bought an adapter to hopefully connect my computer to the internet so I could send him an e-mail or something, but I coudln't find an outlet anywhere in any of the London station restaurants or shops. After searching for something of the sort, I resolved to just wait by the arrivals section for the Eurostar, and about three hours later, Ross came out the doors. Relief...finally. Then we hopped on the London metro system, which is pretty easy to navigate, and found our way to our London hostel, after which we treated ourselves to a delicious lunch at a fairly upscale Indian restaurant (London is more known for its foreign cuisine than its own, unless you're talking about fish and chips). We were pretty tired.