London Sights





Poet's Corner, Westminster Abbey















The Sherlock Holmes Pub

















Westminster Abbey

















The view from our hotel room
















Tower of London

London Diaries: Volume III

Leaving our luggages with our hotel, we hopped on the tube for St. Paul's Cathedral. Built by Christopher Wren, the baroque church was impressive, but what really took my breath away were the 4 paintings on the pillars by the cathedral dome. I was mesmerized by the unique depiction of the life of Christ, with its dark foreboding colors and emphasis on strife and weariness. I looked to the artist, a Russian, ah, that explained everything. The artist's name is Sergei Chepik and the painting I was absolutely floored by is "The Life Of Christ." I was pleasantly surprised at the discovery of a modern artist that I like, as most of my favorite artists are dead. Chepik was born in Russian in 1953, he no doubt have seen much of political strife in Russia and perhaps it is the pain and suffering of his people (and/or himself) that are readily depicted in his paintings. The sadness was overwhelming, even the depiction of Christ's baptism exudes an impending sense of doom. My favorite panel is the baptism, which depicts God hidden behind the white light as Jesus was baptized (not shown here). I am excited for my newfound love for Sergei Chepik, I can finally follow an artist's life as he is living!

After St. Paul’s, we crossed the millennium bridge and found a replica of Shakespeare’s globe. While we didn’t go into the globe, we did find our way to Vinopolis and had ourselves a grand ol’ time.

Vinopolis, a huge wine museum in London, had wines from all over the world. We bought our tickets which included a tour of the museum, five wine tastings, and a Bombay Sapphire martini. I tried a cab-merlot from Israel that was medium bodied and slightly peppery, which I wasn’t expecting from a cab or a merlot. I tried a white wine produced in England and immediately understood why the English are not known for their wine. I enjoyed the other tastings although I can’t now remember what all I tried, which could be an indication of my level of intoxication at the time. The Bombay Sapphire room was modern chic and very… blue! Ten bowls containing ten different spices were arranged in a circle, available for us to touch and smell. The ten spices are the various aromas infused into the gin, amongst them lemon peel, liquorish from China, and Coriander seeds. I had the tropical paradise martini which was made with pineapple juic, it was yummy.

After Vinopolis, Sondra and I found the church Shakespeare used to go to! To our disappointment, the church was closed, but we did get good pictures of the outside of the church. For our last stop we ended up at a bar called the All-One bar, or something like that. Maria had an interview there so Sondra and I shared a bottle of pinot gris, good times. We got to our hotel around 10:00 and proceeded to carry our (60 pounds…each) bags across town and onto the tube. We had to fly out from Standsted the next day and had reservations in the Travel Lodge nearby... an airport we had no idea how to get to. We got lost at least twice (I lost count somewhere on the road) and had a pissed drunk brit betting us on the tube that we’d miss the train. He was so confident that he bet Sondra 20 pounds, a bet we foolishly took. At the very last stop we understood the source of his confidence – we had missed our stop 20 minutes ago. Satisfying himself with our stupidity by pointing and laughing at us, he eventually pointed us to the right location and we proceeded onward. After getting off the tube we had to purchase tickets to the train, the “Standsted Express.”

When we finally made it to the right train station, we realized that there was no lift. So there we were, suitcase-Olympic-champions dragging our bags up and down the stairs, I swear it took half an hour just to get up the flight of stairs. Having finally made it onto the platform, the clock read 11:56 and the last train was scheduled to stop running at midnight. Uh oh... But oh blessed luck! A local teenage druggie stood right next to us (who eavesdropped in our conversation and proceeded to laugh at us hysterically… that’s happened a lot on this trip…) informed us that there was indeed going to be a train coming our way and helped us with our luggages onto the train. There we were, 3 gals with barely enough strength left holding on to our luggages, laughing heartily with our new found druggie friend. We must looked like we were having the time of our lives as a young brit walked over to us and asked us for beer. Beer we don't have, but 60 pound bags we've got a-plenty, want some?

Getting off the train was interesting, as the jaws of death called "train doors" went psycho on Sondra and almost ate her luggage (with her holding onto it). Maria had to pull on one side of the door, the druggie the other, with me pushing the “open door” button madly. We eventually got Sondra (and her luggage) out of the train. That was not fun.

Having finally made it to Harlow town (aka in the middle of nowhere), we dragged our tired bodies into our hotel room and collapsed onto our respective beds. It was fun getting tipsy, but man was it tiring to trek everywhere with 60 pound luggage! Moral of the story: PACK LIGHT PACK LIGHT PACK LIGHT!!!

Phantom of the Opera Cast: London

Wendy Ferguson
Carlotta (I loved her! She stole the show! She was this chubby, cute, Carlotta that's hilariously funny and annoying at the same time. Bravo!)





David Shannon
Raoul (Sondra and I both agreed: not cute enough for Raoul...)



Rachel Barrell
Christine (she was a'ight. She's kind of plain and doesn't have the smoldering beauty that Sarah Brightman has, nor was she the innocent-ingénue that Emmy Rossum portrayed. All could have been saved if she had a stellar voice, but her voice was a bit too nasaly for my taste)




Heidi O'Brien
Meg Giry (not a great singer, but she was very pretty)




Annette Yeo
Madame Giry (I liked her! Stern and very Bride of Frankinstein-ish)



Earl Carpenter
The Phantom (over-acted a bit. This phantom was more psychotic than charming, not to say that this interpretation has not its merits. This Phantom portrayed himself as utterly pitiful, which takes away some of the seduction that the Phantom is supposed to display. Good voice, but a bit too high pitched for my taste.)

London Diaries: Volume II

Big plans today. Woke up rather early for our complementary morning continental breakfast. As our breakfast was free and London is the most expensive place in the world, the three of us stuffed ourselves with rolls, wheat toast, jam, ham, salami, cheese, fruit, yogurt, and orange juice. We ate like eating was going out of style, with an urgency and ferociousness I didn’t think we possessed. After our hearty meal, Sondra and I left for Buckingham palace and Westminster Abbey (St. Margaret’s church).

Buckingham palace was interestingly understated. Styled like the many buildings surrounding it, I wouldn’t have known that it was “the” palace if I wasn’t looking for it. What made it obvious for me that day was the changing of the guards. Throngs of people surrounded the palace while regal British guards did their thing, it was fun to watch.

Westminster Abbey was not as I pictured it in my mind, but it was beautiful. I stood in awe of being in a place with a thousand years of history, where kings and queens have been crowed since the 11th century. There are 3,000 tombs and the remains of 29 kings and queens (including Queen Elizabeth I) within the Abbey’s walls. Loyalty to God, Queen, and Country permeates the abbey and the city, which really captivated me. Before entering the tomb of Queen Elizabeth I a plaque stood bearing the words, “before entering the tomb, remember the protestant and catholic blood spilled during the reformation.” Words like that are everywhere to be found in Westminster Abbey, words that gives you context in history, words that remind you of the importance of what you are seeing. Amongst the famous royal tombs is the “poet’s corner,” with likes of Chaucer, Tennyson, Robert Browning Charles Dickens, Rudyard Kipling and Thomas Hardy buried there.

Another thing that captivated me in London was the honor they give to Americans in their museums and on their streets. I found this to be very strange yet refreshing. If anything, I’d think that it would be us paying homage to them, being the mother country and all. But walking down the street amongst stately statutes of famous brits was Abraham Lincoln, and in the Abbey and elsewhere were inscriptions honoring American and British soldiers.

After the Abbey we walked by the Thames to the Houses of Parliament. Neo-gothic in style, the houses of parliament was gorgeous, although “Big” Ben to be was really… “Medium Ben” to me, as I was expecting it to be a lot bigger. Guards with big hats and rifles stood by the gates with plaques bearing the words “no entry,” I guess I’ll have to see the Houses of Lords and Commons in action some other time.

Our last big stop on our world wind tour was the Tower of London. The Tower of London was awesome. A fortress of a place, I am convinced that if any place is haunted, this place must be. Climbing up the stairs to the bloody tower, I shuddered as I stood in the chamber of the infamous killing of the two princes, Edward V and his younger brother Richard, Duke of York (11-12 years of age). The executioner’s block shows a list of victims including Lady Jane Grey (who was 15 years of age, political execution), and Ann Boleyn. The torture room and devices was something to behold, and the crowned jewels so dazzled me that I didn’t want to leave the room! The Bell tower was creepy, as amongst the famous prisoners there (one of them being Sir Thomas Moore), Ann Boleyn’s good friend was forced to watch her die on top of the tower.

After our tower tour, we bolted to Her Majesty’s Theater just in time to get seats for Phantom of the Opera. It was our lucky day! As Tuesdays were student days and we got our tickets for 25 pounds (about 50 US dollars). I’ve always wanted to see Phantom of the Opera, and what icing on the cake to be seeing it in London! Sondra and I stopped at the Spaghetti House for dinner before the show. Little did we know, it was 10 minutes to the start of the show and we were still on our appetizers. In a panic, we ordered them to box our salmon pastas and ran like mad to the theater. The show was fun; although it would have been more fun if I didn’t have to pee in the first half of the show (I can’t even describe to you the pain…). I must admit that I was a wee bit disappointed, for I was expecting Michael Crawford level of phantomness, which I realize it to be an unrealistic expectation. All in all though, the show was a lot of fun, and I am so glad that after a decade of salivating over it, I finally got to experience it.

Back in our hotel room, we updated the sick Maria on our trip while inhaling our salmon pastas, ah, what a fabulous day!

London Diaries: Volume I

First, a word about reasons for trekking abroad in early April: an international moot court Competition in Vienna with 163 law schools around the world. My route to Vienna includes 2 ½ days in London, Vienna, then to Prague.

After a fun-filled 9 hour flight, we finally arrive at our destination: London. We get off the plane; drag our suitcases around the airport and just before getting on the London tube…wait a minute...what’s this little yellow ribbon on my suitcase? I don’t remember tying that there…. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I got the wrong suitcase. Yes they looked the same, even if mine is navy blue and the one I dragged around town is black. Panic ensues as I contemplate gunning for the double doors leading to the luggage carousels that says “NO ENTRY BEYOND THIS POINT!” After 2 hours of running to different parts of Heathrow, I finally get the right luggage, and off to the tube we go!

We stayed at a hotel in South Kensington (the Shaftbury Kensington, daaahling) we got off at Earl’s Court (mind the gap! As the voice tells you when getting off the tube) and lugged our excess baggage around the charming streets of Kensington, with periodical interruptions of tripping, falling, and screaming over our bags. Our plight must have invoked deep sympathies of nearby construction workers, as they (about 4 men), decided to take our bags for us to the hotel (God bless them!). Sounding charming with their English accent, they tell us that we chased away the rain and brought the sunshine, for this is the first day in a long time where it's not raining in London. *sigh* ah Londoners, I fell in love with them right then and there.

After unpacking and finally figuring out how to turn the lights on in our hotel room, we three gals headed towards Trafalgar square and Piccadilly Circus for some night sightseeing. Walking past enormous statues, old fashioned telephone booths, and cars driving on the “wrong” side of the road, off in the near distance was Big Ben, lit up under the blackened London sky, half hidden behind various buildings with histories I only wish I could remember. Off to the side of the road was Sherlock Holmes pub. As an avid Sherlock Holmes fan, I was more than happy to indulge in an evening of food and beer at the pub.

Styled according to the sleuth’s books, Sherlock Holmes pub serves beer on the first floor and food on the second. The restaurant has a very “Holmsian” feel to it, with a section of the room a recreation of Sherlock Holmes’ study filled with Holmes paraphernalia from his novels. As for food? I had fish and chips with mushy peas (I couldn’t resist having fish and chips on my first night in London), Maria had the steak and ale pie, and Sondra had toad in a hole (two sausage links in pudding (pudding is just a bread crust, much like the crust on chicken pot pies) drenched in gravy). Not a big fan of malt vinegar, I timidly asked the waiter if they carried tartar sauce (remembering my bouts with the Italian waitress in Florence). With a quizzical look on his face, he responded, “tartar sauce? What’s that?” resulting in me red faced (oh god I just committed a cultural feux pas) and him laughing heartily at me saying, “of course we have tartar sauce, just a moment.” Ah Londoners.

Dinner was fantastic. Mushy peas looked just like mashed potatoes, except it is green in color and tasted like peas, which created tremendous cognitive dissonance in my mind as my synapse were expecting the taste of buttery potatoes. After dinner we walked around Trafalgar square some more, asked about Phantom of the Opera tickets at Her Majesty’s Theater in Piccadilly Circus, and tubed back to our hotel room.

Lovely, Lovely day.

Post-Traveling Depression?

Last time I trekked around Europe I couldn’t wait to come home by the end of it. This time around I hated to leave it. It feels good to be around the people that I love, but I can’t help the longing for adventures in far off places. Waking up at 7:00 in the morning ready to walk 13 hours up a hill towards Prague castle, browsing through Easter egg markets in Vienna with busy shops all in a row, riding the tube along with locals in London after a traditional English breakfast with baked beans, and laughing continuously with traveling buddies on new experiences and faux pas that we’ve made through out the trip. I miss treading through foreign spaces and find it difficult to jump right back into the busy life that I’ve lead before I left. I find myself daydreaming about my next trip, and I am experiencing the weirdest sort of sadness…

PRAHA

How I love Prague, let me count the ways... I love, Love, LOVE Prague. I have never loved a city I've visited more than I love Prague and I am so sad to leave it. Rarely do I go to a city vowing to come back to it, and this city has enthralled and dazzled me such that I actually considered for a millisecond to just stay here.

Oh, did I mention that I love Prague? I LOVE Prague.

Cheesy as it may be, me, Maria, and Sondra all got t-shirts that says, "Czech me out!" Czech... get it? as opposed to check?

Last night we went to the best restaurant and ate traditional Czech food, 2 giant mugs of beer, one shot of this cinnamon liquor yumminess, and a cheese appetizer all for..... drum roll please.... 12 bucks. Yes folkes, that's right, 1-2 b-u-c-k-s. I love Prague. Love Love Love Prague. I have met the most amazing people here as well, and here's the kicker - there is no smoking in this internet cafe! Yay for Prague! Will update when I get home. Will update everything when I get home. As for now, Ciao! And Czech me out!

THE AMERICAN EMBASSY

If you've been to Europe, you know the place is a giant ash tray. People smoke wherever you go, at any time, anywhere. In cafes sans windows and closed doors, in restaurants, in pubs, EVERYWHERE. And the doors are always closed because it is fer-ree-zing here. As I am typing right now the guy next to me is blowing smoke in my face, loverly.

So last night, Maria and I decided to take a trip into town and study at Starbucks. As soon as we walked in, I felt as if I just stepped onto American soil. Jazzy music playing, plush couches everywhere, and yes, signs all over with the words NO SMOKING ALLOWED in several different languages. Thank you! Thank you!! Thank you!!! The $4 euro coffee was worth it!

GONE FISHIN

I am in Vienna. Will update adventures very soon! The blog templates here are in German, it's so weird... and a z is where the y should be...