london: day 4

tuesday: july 1, 2008
all the queen's horses, and all the queen's men...

9:30am: the wake-up call this morning is just as alarming, and even more so, it's a half-hour late! i wake up francis, in the pitch black room, and throw back the curtains: it is bright and sunny and a glorious day in london. we rush downstairs to pile a breakfast on our trays just in time; they're already clearing it away as we sit down.

we check out, and leave our luggage at the hotel. the clerk is an elderly gentleman, who is tickled pink by francis and his exclamations, and starts chatting him up about castles, which is so cute, but unfortunately, we are rushing to try to catch the changing of the guard, so i have to cut it short.

at the russell square tube station, there is a crowd of people waiting to get into the tiny elevator, so i instinctively head for the stairs. we did not know that there would be sooo many stairs! luckily, it is all downhill, but still, i think we went down 7? 10? 12? flights of stairs! i had no idea the underground was so far underground! francis is in giggle fits of exasperation...when ARE we ever going to get to the bottom?





finally, the bottom. and we ride the tube to victoria station, and walk quick the many blocks to buckingham palace. it is very very warm already, (only 11am) and i'm too hot in my jeans. we are 10 minutes late and the fence line is entirely crowded, but we manage to worm our way to the front. we are on the side fence, not the front, so they are far away, but still. we get pictures, and francis can now say he saw the changing of the guard. it lasts a long time, and it is a little boring for kids, i think. (adults, too?) we have expectations of spectacular, but this is slow and methodical; this is tradition and ritual. there is honor in being the guard of the queen (even if it seems you're not doing much.) they conclude by marching out of the gates of the palace, past the victoria's memorial roundabout, and down the main street, which has been closed off to traffic. they do this every day? traffic must stop for the marching of the guard every single day?





we, of course, follow them, with the other tourists, and take pictures. francis is utterly fascinated. then we find a piece of shade in the grass and have a snack of buttered rolls (from breakfast). francis is falling asleep sitting up. another morning of rushing around.

we hit the gift shops and do some souvenir shopping. we head back to the train station to use the toilets (30p!) and then get egg salad sandwiches, apples, chips, chocolate, and smoothies at the store, and take it to a nearby park to eat lunch in the shade. after trying to figure out our afternoon plan, i decide the best bet is to head to ruth's for tea-time, to catch up on email and laundry, and to rest up a bit before our big night out on the town: catching shakepeare's "a midsummer night's dream" at the Globe! (a replica theatre)

back at the train station, i figure out a bus back to the british museum. (success!)unfortunately, it was a painfully long slow ride thru downtown london, and it was not a double decker bus, so we did not get much of a view. but still, we got to rest, and passed by picadilly circus, chinatown, and soho. this older lady was sitting in the row next to us, and chatted up francis the entire time. older people just really are delighted by francis, i don't know how, he just has this way about him. he will talk to anybody, (and keep on talking!)





we get off at the british museum, and walk the now familiar route back to our hotel. we stop in russell square one last time for francis to splash in the fountain, then back to the hotel to pick up our bags, then back down the tube station to get to ruth's by 5pm. we have tea and snacks and rest, waiting for ruth to get home from work. francis takes out all his souvenirs and lines them up on the table (in true francis-fashion.) ruth gets home, we have pesto pasta for dinner, and before you know it, we're rushing off to the tube station again, to get to the Globe theatre.

we get off the tube at Bank, and still have a bit of a walk to go, across the bridge, across the Thames. francis is absolutely bursting for a toilet. this is the financial district and everything is closed. no restrooms in the tube stations. no ubiquitous starbucks on every other corner. not even a fast food restuarant. dang it! all that tea and ribena! what do the brits do when they are bursting for the loo? does cold weather and lots of tea make their bladders stronger? ruth's advice was to "walk faster"; i was ready to let him pee in an alley, if only i could find an alley! francis was near tears, waddling as fast as he could, and i was very sympathetic to his pain. we finally made it there, and more importantly, HE made it, and was very much relieved!

while we were in the bathroom, ruth discovered that the Globe was sold out for the entire month of july, and that the long line outside the door was for people waiting for last-minute tickets to be made available by no-shows! but since we walked straight in to use the toilets, we bypassed the line and were already in the foyer when a lady decided to sell her tickets. so, hidden by the chaos of all the people, and the show starting in 5 minutes, ruth managed to get us exactly 3 tickets for the "poor people in standing room only" which are only 5 quid each. (following the tradition of the actual Globe of the times, poor people stand, rich people sit!) so yay! we got in!

and then stood. for three hours.







it was a long night, the roof was the open sky, with a floating suspended ball gradually illuminating as the moon. it was a warm and balmy evening, after being so hot today; we didn't even need our layers we had brought. the performance was amazing, and francis did really great. he is so full of wonder. it really is something special to see something like that live. the comedy kept him laughing, and he could actually, in spite of the old-fashioned speech, keep up with most of what was going on. (with me filling in a few blanks now and then.) the only bummer of the evening was a large group of teenagers behind us, a school group of foreign kids, who could care less about the performance, and chatted the entire time. the frequent "shhh!"'s from various people did not deter them, so at the intermission(francis called it "halftime") we decided to move to a spot right up against the side of the stage, which ended up better, as now francis could see perfectly with no heads in front of him. sometimes he got tired and wanted to sit down, which he did, but his curiosity of what was going on above his head (what were people laughing at?) would get the better of him, and he would stand up again to watch. i was amazed by how into it he was. by the end of the evening, he said that although his feet hurt, the show was good and he had fun. it's an event not to be missed and worth every penny, er, pence! (thanks so much, ruth, for making it happen!) if you are ever in london, make sure you make time for a trip to the Globe.







we came out to a dark night, people festive in the street, cafes along the water. we walked a non-rushed pace this time, across the millenium bridge, and got our sights in of st. paul's cathedral, lit up by night. francis steered the conversation to WWII, a favorite subject of his, but was a bit puzzled when his america-bred knowledge was not the same as a Brit's! world history and politics is not what i want to debate, not with a 10 year old, and not with a Brit! i tried to explain briefly the huge toll Britain weathered because of WWII. it happened on their soil. london was bombed. thousands of their men died fighting. it is a much more sensitive subject to them than it is to us. so out of respect, let's not go there. right now. it's ok. you can learn more. grow a little older... (and then question everything.) we changed the subject, and caught a bus back to ruth's, where, even though it was late, i quick caught up on email and laundry.

dad emailed to say that greg's Lufthansa flight was delayed (because of a strike in germany) and he's worried greg will miss his connection to london tomorrow. please, please, let him not miss it! (we need to fly to italy, at 6am thursday! not much room for delays!)

also, ruth looked at the weather report for tomorrow: it is supposed to rain...