Piccadilly palare was just silly slang
I've been forced to stay in London for a day longer than I had planned, but this gave me the opportunity to see more in London than i had planned.
I don't know about all of you, but being on the road is more exhausting than it is relaxing. I'm having a great time, mind you, and my mind has been given the opportunity to jump up and down with excitement at all that I've seen and all the wonderful people I've met. But despite all this, Thursday morning seemed at first just another morning to wake up in the hostel. Not quite as clean as I would have liked. Not quite as rested as I would have liked. But somehow still in thoroughly adequate condition for more exploration of Europe's largest city.
To my good fortune, I met a new friend in my dormitory early in the day. Melissa, an Australian from Brisbane, had arrived in London the night before, beginning what will be a 2 year trip before completing law school back down under. It seemed that our plans for the morning roughly coincided (she was headed for Picadilly to purchase a cell phone, and I to Picadilly to purchase a train ticket to Barcelona), so we walked and tubed together. London was still almost unbearably hot and humid (I had never known this side of London! The not-cold-and-rainy side, that is!) so we stopped and bought Cokes at Pret a Manger (my favorite sandwich chain from my long ago days at UCL). Our errands completed (100 pounds for my ticket, even WITH the train pass I bought??) we figured we had time to explore some of the tourist sites of London.
Our first stop was Trafalgar Square. We conveniently happened upon a large gathering that seemed to have something to do with the 2012 Olympics and caught a grandly sentimental speech by London's Mayor Ken Livingston (in person, no less!) about London's diversity, blah, blah, blah. The pigeons seemed to enjoy the speech almost as much as I did.
Our second stop was the National Gallery (where I had been before, for my art history class at UCL). I expressed my distaste for British painting, but still quietly admired the Turners and openly admired the Seurats. I made a few pretentious attempts to defend the "use of light" in Impressionist paintings. Forgive me, please.
Followed by lunch at a touristy spot in Picadilly, after bypassing a row of Chinese restaurants, ducks hanging in the windows.
She went on her way to visit a friend in Cockfosters (ha, ha, but that's really what it's called) and I took the tube to the southern bank of the Thames.
I walked quite a long while, past street performers juggling while lying on a bed of nails, couples making out in the park and giggling tourists snapping pictures at Big Ben and Westminster Abbey. The walk was pleasant, and I admired the filthy but still picture-worthy Thames, gazed up at the London Eye Ferris Wheel and controlled my urge to purchase another donut.
I found myself at my destination, the Tate Modern, and spent about an hour and a half exploring for free. I got to check out a Bruce Nauman video exhibit, some neat old Picassos, a few rooms exploring the concept of "the nude" in art (ooh la la), some grand grids by Gilbert and George, and some classic prints by Andy Warhol. My favorite piece of the day was, however, by Cindy Sherman. She dressed herself up as each of about 16 different characters she encountered on the NYC subway and photographed herself posed as such. It was part of a section about the "artist as subject", which I like. CS had her self posed as both men and women, white and black, homeless and fashionable. I liked it!
I walked back to the hostel, met up with Melissa again for a few Guinesses and then had dinner at an Indian restaurant next door. Food was good, but the Vindaloo was not as spicy as should have been expected. By the time dinner was done, the walking had hit me hard and I was tired, so went to sleep early.
Today I take a night train to Barcelona. Now isn't that exciting?
I don't know about all of you, but being on the road is more exhausting than it is relaxing. I'm having a great time, mind you, and my mind has been given the opportunity to jump up and down with excitement at all that I've seen and all the wonderful people I've met. But despite all this, Thursday morning seemed at first just another morning to wake up in the hostel. Not quite as clean as I would have liked. Not quite as rested as I would have liked. But somehow still in thoroughly adequate condition for more exploration of Europe's largest city.
To my good fortune, I met a new friend in my dormitory early in the day. Melissa, an Australian from Brisbane, had arrived in London the night before, beginning what will be a 2 year trip before completing law school back down under. It seemed that our plans for the morning roughly coincided (she was headed for Picadilly to purchase a cell phone, and I to Picadilly to purchase a train ticket to Barcelona), so we walked and tubed together. London was still almost unbearably hot and humid (I had never known this side of London! The not-cold-and-rainy side, that is!) so we stopped and bought Cokes at Pret a Manger (my favorite sandwich chain from my long ago days at UCL). Our errands completed (100 pounds for my ticket, even WITH the train pass I bought??) we figured we had time to explore some of the tourist sites of London.
Our first stop was Trafalgar Square. We conveniently happened upon a large gathering that seemed to have something to do with the 2012 Olympics and caught a grandly sentimental speech by London's Mayor Ken Livingston (in person, no less!) about London's diversity, blah, blah, blah. The pigeons seemed to enjoy the speech almost as much as I did.
Our second stop was the National Gallery (where I had been before, for my art history class at UCL). I expressed my distaste for British painting, but still quietly admired the Turners and openly admired the Seurats. I made a few pretentious attempts to defend the "use of light" in Impressionist paintings. Forgive me, please.
Followed by lunch at a touristy spot in Picadilly, after bypassing a row of Chinese restaurants, ducks hanging in the windows.
She went on her way to visit a friend in Cockfosters (ha, ha, but that's really what it's called) and I took the tube to the southern bank of the Thames.
I walked quite a long while, past street performers juggling while lying on a bed of nails, couples making out in the park and giggling tourists snapping pictures at Big Ben and Westminster Abbey. The walk was pleasant, and I admired the filthy but still picture-worthy Thames, gazed up at the London Eye Ferris Wheel and controlled my urge to purchase another donut.
I found myself at my destination, the Tate Modern, and spent about an hour and a half exploring for free. I got to check out a Bruce Nauman video exhibit, some neat old Picassos, a few rooms exploring the concept of "the nude" in art (ooh la la), some grand grids by Gilbert and George, and some classic prints by Andy Warhol. My favorite piece of the day was, however, by Cindy Sherman. She dressed herself up as each of about 16 different characters she encountered on the NYC subway and photographed herself posed as such. It was part of a section about the "artist as subject", which I like. CS had her self posed as both men and women, white and black, homeless and fashionable. I liked it!
I walked back to the hostel, met up with Melissa again for a few Guinesses and then had dinner at an Indian restaurant next door. Food was good, but the Vindaloo was not as spicy as should have been expected. By the time dinner was done, the walking had hit me hard and I was tired, so went to sleep early.
Today I take a night train to Barcelona. Now isn't that exciting?
posted by Jed at 2:02 AM
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