Pictured in Memory

Some of the best experiences can't be documented by camera. That was the case with two events we attended in London. While I could steal photos from websites (with attribution) these experiences can only be re-lived in memory.

I had long wanted to attend an evensong service at Westminster Abbey. Kevin and I may not be religious, but attending these services can be inspiring and certainly can do no harm. Who wouldn't find their thoughts soaring with the beauty of the abbey and the knowledge that you are seeing a part of history. Site of the coronation of all English monarchs since 1066, the abbey has echoed the sounds of prayer  for over a thousand years. And because evensong is a mostly sung service (hence the "song" part of the description), it's especially uplifting.

Best of all, if you attend a service at Westminster Abbey, you get in for free! You can't just walk around, of course, but not only do they not charge for the service, there was never even a request for an offering. What was particularly thrilling was that, having arrived a half-hour before the service, we were among the first admitted. We were seated in the quire, the section typically reserved for clerics and visiting dignitaries during official ceremonies!

In the Daily Mail photo of the wedding of Prince William and Catherine Middleton, you can see the quire stalls just to the right of where the robed choir members are standing. 

The abbey provides a booklet for those who attend the service, so you can follow along and know when to stand or sit. I ran my fingers along the wooden shelf that held the booklet and thought of all of the people who had sat there before. Although the current stalls date only from 1848, they replaced the ones that were installed earlier.
Prayers were offered for peace and for delivery from darkness. But as an American, I noted that prayers were also offered for blessings on "our most gracious Sovereign Lady, Queen Elizabeth, Philip Duke of Edinburgh, Charles Prince of Wales, and all the Royal Family." (Note: This is reproduced as in the program with no commas after "Philip" or "Charles.) Because the queen is head of the Church of England, I was not surprised that prayers were offered for her, but I was surprised to find Philip and Charles called out by name.
Sitting there in the hushed abbey, we listened to the choir, while the lilting voices of the boy sopranos rising, as the other voices blended with the deep, resonant tone of the organ, filling up the vast space. The worries of the day were swept away. We felt rested and at peace.
The other experience we will have to remember without our own photographs was our visit to the British Library. Understandably, given the need to preserve works on paper or parchment, lighting is low, and no photos are allowed.
Although the library was crowded the day we were there, incredulously, we found ourselves all alone in the room with the Magna Carta (The Great Charter). The library's copy is one of four surviving original texts. We had seen it on a previous visit, but now it is even better displayed. What a privilege to view that document in a quiet room all by ourselves. (Photo from history.com) 

The display made us want to learn more. We had always understood that the primary significance of the Magna Carta was the fact it was one of the earliest documents that limited the power of the king, and a precursor to later documents outlining human rights, including our own Bill of Rights. And while that is all true, it was surprising for us to learn that it also gave limited rights to women. For example, it stated that widows were no longer compelled to marry--they could live without taking a new husband if they desired. (I know, that's not exactly liberation, but it is a significant, if minor, part in the march toward equality. After all, it was 1215!)
A special exhibition at the library included the Lindisfarne Gospels (715-720) and other illustrated biblical texts, as well as what is probably the first surviving letter written in English, the first illustrated copy of Beowulf, and the Domesday (pronounced Dooms-day) Book. (Lindisfarne Gospel illustrations are from Wikipedia; Domesday Book photo is from DK Find Out!)

The Domesday Book chronicles the great survey of England, directed by William the Conqueror, which compared every landholding in the country with its status and ownership in 1086, compared to 1066, when William seized the crown. Although it was created mostly for taxation--and some say not a single cow was overlooked--it is much more than that. Today, the importance of the Domesday Book is that it provides a detailed look at 11th Century England and the deepest view that we have of any 11th Century society. What fascinated me is that the survey was completed in a little over a year, an incredible accomplishment, given the modes of transport and communications of the time.
Of course, the British Library contains many other riches, too, from handwritten scores by Beethoven and Mozart to Shakespeare's first folios and John Lennon's drawings. It was also interesting to see original manuscripts by poets and authors such as Sylvia Plath and T.S. Eliot. I noted that some words were crossed out and sentences recast. That inspired a sad thought: although computers are such a help to writers these days, making it easy to revise, we have lost something by using computers too. We can no longer see the writer's process at work. It goes along with the fact that cursive writing is no longer being taught in some schools. I wonder if one day, graduate students will have to learn cursive in order to do original research on handwritten materials? 
As for us, we will have to be content with the mental pictures of our visits to Westminster Abbey and the British Library, much like visitors in the days before cameras, and who couldn't even dream of a camera or smartphone.

 

Platform 9-3/4

Yes, Harry Potter fans, there really is a Platform 9-3/4 at Kings Cross Station in London, and it really is between Platform 9 and Platform 10.

This family kindly agreed to let me show their photo of entering the brick wall like Harry and his friends.

Of course, the Harry Potter store is right there, and for a small fee you can be photographed at the platform wearing the scarf of any of the houses of Hogwarts.

But the queues for a photo--or just to get into the store--stretch for hundreds of feet! J.K. Rowling is really cleaning up! When we entered Kings Cross and I asked a railway worker about Platform 9-3/4, he said "If you want to get here when the queue is short, you need to get here at 7 a.m." 

I'm not that much of a Harry Potter fan that I would rise that early to get in, but it was fun to see people line up just to satisfy a fantasy. After all, "A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men."

Note: The quote above, while spoken in "Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory," is actually an old saying with attribution inconclusive.

Won't You Be My Mudlark?

Valentine's Day dawned with a blue sky, so we were off to the banks of the Thames for some mudlarking, looking for historical items on the shore that might be of value or interest. (The photo above shows the area, though it was taken on another day.) According to an article in "The Guardian" and information on mudlarking websites, it is legal to mudlark without a license as long as you don't do any digging and just pick up what is there. (Later, we found out the information is not correct!) If you do discover any significant finds they belong to the British government.

We were fortunate to meet some mums and their children, experienced mudlarkers. The older kids were wizards at finding clay pipes and showed us how to find them. Once you have spotted them, they are obvious. Unfortunately, I did not get photos of them (who were about elementary school age), because those budding archeologists were deeply absorbed in their explorations. One of the mothers was from Vancouver, B.C., so we connected as citizens from different parts of the Pacific Northwest.

We had a good laugh about the fact that when she and her family visited Seattle and took the Underground Tour from Pioneer Square, the guide kept emphasizing, "And this is over 100 years old!" And there we were, on the banks of the Thames, where people have lived since prehistoric times, and where it is not uncommon to find artifacts that are 500 years old, or even older. (Last year a novice mudlarker found a rare Roman oil lamp that dated back to the 4th to 5th Century.)

We found some bits of clay pipes that we've not yet dated, but those pipes were thrown into the Thames for more than 300 years, which explains their proliferation along the shore. Most date from the 16th to the 18th Century. They are basically the cigarette butts of their era, because the pipes were sold stuffed with tobacco for single use. The older pipes can be identified by their smaller bowls. (Note the piece of the bowl that Kevin found in the photo.)

Along with our pipe bits, we found a wooden pipe base, pottery sherds and an old brush, which I think has boar bristles. 

We are checking with the Museum of London to make sure we're not carting off anything valuable--but we don't think so. We were also intrigued with the old bone on the left, no doubt the remnant of the time when the butchers along the river threw offal, bones, and all sorts of disgusting materials into the water. (Yes, we washed our hands carefully after handling these.)

Later, Kevin bought two clay pipes at an antiques fair for comparison.

 

As we left the shore, another "artefact" appeared in the sand.

It was my valentine to Kevin, although admittedly not a very artistic one. I guess I should have added, "Won't you be my mudlark?"

Note: As indicated previously, this blog is not always in chronological order.

Meeting the Royal Life Guards (and Horses)

It's always a special treat to take part in activities that aren't geared for tourists, so when we had an opportunity to visit the army museum in Chelsea to meet the Queen's Life Guard of the Household Cavalry (Horse Guards), we could not pass that up. Most of the visitors were Londoners.

The Household Cavalry are the mounted officers that you see on TV on the queen's birthday and other ceremonial occasions, and in  the daily Horse Guard Parade as they ride from their barracks.

The officers at the museum knew the history of the units well and shared several fascinating tidbits. The Life Guard of the cavalry is made up of the two most senior regiments of the British Army (The Royals and The Blues).* The uniforms date back to 1660-1661, after Charles II assumed the throne when the monarchy was restored following the death of Oliver Cromwell.

Charles II made his loyal personal guard wear red, while the other army officers wore blue. After all, his father, Charles I, had been executed at the end of the English Civil War, and he wanted to clearly identify those officers whom he could trust. (The long white tassels of the The Royals were originally made of strips of whalebone, left over from the making of corsets. Today, however, the tassels are both made from horsehair.)

The young men who served as tour guides also displayed another uniform that has black strips and buttons on the cuffs.  (Sorry, no photo.) Those were added by Queen Victoria. The black strips were added in honor of Prince Albert after his passing, but the addition of the buttons resulted from a mistaken impression. When reviewing the troops, Queen Victoria noted that some of the officers had what appeared to be mucous on their sleeves. She thought they had wiped their noses on their sleeves, and she was disgusted! So she had buttons added to the cuffs.  However, the officers she observed were members of the band. As any horn player knows, saliva can build up in the instrument. The band members had simply tapped their horns on their sleeves, so it was saliva and not nasal mucous that she witnessed!

Of course, for me, the highlight was seeing the horses. We met the horse below, Gladstone, and his rider, who was from New Zealand.

Kevin also viewed an exhibit by the artist, Alfred Munnings, an official war artist of World War I, and known for his horse paintings. 

I asked Kevin, "Why he were you so interested in the exhibit?," because while I was intrigued by the poster advertising the paintings and his impressionistic style, I did not know Munnings.

Kevin stared at me, and then grinned, as the light broke. "Oh," he said, "You don't read Dick Francis novels!"

It's true. You are either a Dick Francis fan or you're not, and I've just never been able to get into his mysteries. Dick Francis was a steeplehorse jockey at one point, and his crime novels typically revolve around horse racing. 

The horse guards show was just one of the things we experienced thanks to The Londonist, a free newsletter delivered by email every day that lists upcoming events. If you're going to London, it's worth signing up for.

*I have tried to make sure the information on the Household Cavalry is accurate, but between the guide's talk and what I found on the internet, there was some confusion. I apologize if I have mis-stated anything. 

An Exceptional Candidate

Kevin and I have been fortunate that we have come to know many members of the Danish Holm-Nielsen family, and of course not all of them could come to London. We have a family connection--two of Soeren's and Marianne's nieces are our grandnieces--so we've had the opportunity of becoming better acquainted over the years, and now we are good friends.

One of the family members who couldn't come was Rasmus Stokelund, who is  one of Marianne's and Soeren's two outstanding sons. Rasmus is not only busy with his job and his family, but he is also running for the Danish Parliament.

He told us after his first election (similar to a U.S. primary), that he had run against a popular mayor. "To his surprise and mine," he wrote, "I won." 

We were not surprised. Rasmus is a thoughtful, intelligent, and honest young man who cares about people and his country. We've often said that he could be prime minister one day, and we've actually heard that from Danes who've worked with him.

We don't believe in interfering in other countries' elections, but we do offer our moral support for his upcoming election in early summer. Meanwhile, we are very pleased to have some of his campaign memorabilia, including a cup designed by the candidate himself.

Good luck, Rasmus!

The Fish Must Swim Three Times

There is an old Danish saying that "the fish must swim three times." When we first visited Marianne and Soeren in Denmark, he acquainted Kevin with the saying and its accompanying ritual. The ritual involves eating herring and drinking schnapps, which for the Danes, means aquavit. 

You eat the herring with bread (traditionally rye, but--no need to get picky--a nice bread will do). After you swallow the herring, you follow it up with a shot of aquavit and chase it with a swig of beer. 

Now, whenever Kevin and Soeren get together, they have to practice this ritual. And what's that about the fish swimming three times?

The first time, the fish swims in the sea. 
The second time, the fish swims in brine.
 Finally, the third time the fish swims in your stomach with the bread, aquavit, and beer.

Skol!

***
Marianne and Soeren treated us to a lovely full English breakfast at a nearby pub the next morning, and after a walk in Brompton Cemetery, we said our goodbyes at Victoria Station where they caught the coach to the airport. Now we look forward to next time! 

A Winter Walk in Kew Gardens

On a wintry day, the setting of the pagoda at Kew resembles a Chinese watercolor.

The Sunday after Elsebeth and Christina returned home, Marianne, Soeren, Kevin, and I set off for Kew Gardens. We had a pleasant winter walk through the grounds and greenhouses on a misty afternoon. 

Our tour guide, a volunteer, shared some of the history of the garden, which began as a royal estate and hosts the largest and most diverse botanical collection in the world with 8.5 million specimens. But, of course, most people visit Kew simply because it is beautiful. I hasten to add that it is especially lovely in the spring, summer, and fall, but it also has it charms in winter.

A friendly volunteer guide pointed out some of the garden's specimens.

We saw a monkey puzzle tree and learned how it got its name. When it began to be grown in England in the 19th Century, someone said that "Climbing that tree would puzzle even a monkey." (At home, we just call them monkey trees.)

It's scientific name is Araucaria araucana. The species is so ancient that the trees are called living fossils. 

But we were standing in the pathway. We turned around and found we were blocking the way for the Kew Gardens Constabulary! Responsible for patroling the gardens, the constabulary was founded in the 1840s with the original officers gardening volunteers and veterans of the Crimean War. 

We teased Soeren, who was the last to move out of the way, and we chatted with one of the officers who joked, "I've keeping my eye on you!" (You can't trust those Danes and Americans.)

Seriously, they were very friendly and good ambassadors for their unique police force.





Meanwhile, between bouts of light drizzle and taking refuge in the greenhouses and the cafe, we enjoyed ourselves immensely,

I was particularly taken with a large sculpture called The Hive, which served to entice kids into the center while providing educational information about the importance of bees. Looking up from inside was spectacular.

As the gardens were shutting for the day, we saw our new friends, the police constables again. They waved goodbye to us. The Underground station was a short distance away, and we hopped on the Tube to go back to the flat. Kew is only a short distance away from where we're staying.

Our adventures with our Danish friends were drawing to a close--but we still had the evening and part of the next day.

More to come...

"Oh, how Wicked!"

Photo courtesy of Soeren Holm-Nielsen

Wicked can mean evil, but in slang, it can also mean excellent. So while this post covers the West End musical of that name, it mostly refers to an excellent time--when our Danish friends joined us in London.

When we told our Danish friends that we could not come and visit them during our time here*, they emailed us that they would come to London to see us. We were delighted! 

Marianne and Soeren arrived late on a Thursday night at Liverpool Street station, the terminus of the Stansted Express train from Stansted Airport. That was just the beginning of our adventure.

Liverpool Street, still busy late at night.

With such a late arrival, we slept in, but after breakfast the next morning, we took a stroll along the Thames.

Photo from Marianne and Soeren.

It was misty, and scaffolding obscured parts of the tower of Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament, but when the wind died down, it wasn't terribly cold. We stopped occasionally to observe people and river traffic and to have coffee, and it was just the leisurely day we wanted. We had booked tickets to see "Wicked" that night.

We had good seats, and we enjoyed the play with its outstanding singers telling the back story of the witches in the Wizard of Oz in an entertaining way--though the orchestra was a tad loud in some scenes, and I had a minor criticism of the story. (I felt the writer should not portray the dream of someone in a wheelchair as only to stand and walk, because I felt it played into old stereotypes.) 

A selfie that I asked Kevin to take because he has long arms!

Kevin and I had no idea that the highlight of the evening was not going to be the performance.  As we were exiting the theater and about to enter the Tube at Victoria Station, across the street, Marianne's mobile phone rang. She had her gloves on and cleverly said, "Oh, I can't swipe this phone with my gloves on. Could you please answer it?"

I took the phone from her hand and answered. I could see by the display that it was her sister-in-law, Elsebeth, who is also a good friend of ours. We have traded visits to Denmark and the U.S., and she and her friend, Christina, visited us when we were in Paris in 2014. 
"Hello, Elsebeth," I said.
"Who's this?," she asked.
"It's Rachel," I said.
After some pleasantries, she asked where we were.
"Oh, we just got out of the theater." 
"How would you like to have a drink before bed?," she asked.
"Wha-a-t? Are you in London?!" 
"Christina and I are on the Gatwick Express train, and we'll be at Victoria Station in about 20 minutes," she replied!

Kevin and I were in shock, but quite delighted. Marianne and Soeren are good at keeping secrets, and was that ever a surprise! 
Look at  my expression, the moment I learn Elsebeth and Christina were on their way:

Photo courtesy of Soeren.

Of course, we waited at Victoria for the two of them to appear and escorted them to their hotel. Then we all gathered in the hotel bar to toast their arrival and our friendship. Do you know what it's like to have friends you don't see for a long time, but as soon as you're together, it's as though no time has passed? That's our experience exactly!

We all slept in the next morning, and we hosted breakfast at our friend's flat. We hadn't told Shirley that we were going to entertain six people (though we knew she wouldn't mind). 

Elsebeth and Christina had only one full day in London, and they wanted to shop. It was a good opportunity for us to re-visit Harrods, which we had not done for several years. We started in the toy department and made our way down to the food halls.

We enjoyed the displays, but we all agreed that designer clothes for babies and toddlers are ridiculous! I'm sure that Versace outfit will look good with baby-urp on it.

But we all savored the chocolate section with free samples, and "crayons" made of chocolate, an ideal gift for an artist.

Brother and sister shared a moment too.

Then it was on to Oxford street by the classic London double-decker bus, where Elsebeth, Christina, and Soeren sat on top, where they could get a good view. My knee insisted that I sit below.

Photo courtesy of Soeren.

Elsebeth and Christina cleaned up on the sales on Oxford Street. Later that night we had a "fashion show." But sadly, I neglected to get photos.

We had lunch at The Crypt at St. Martin-in-the-Fields near Trafalgar Square. (See previous entry "Tales from the Crypt.") It's difficult to get good photos in the shadowy interior.

How quickly that day passed! We finished well with a beer and a meal of fish 'n chips at the Pembroke pub on Old Brompton Street.

We said a reluctant goodbye to Elsebeth and Christina, but counted ourselves very lucky to have such a surprise and good times with our friends. Were they wicked? Oh, yes, but only with the meaning of excellent.

More with Marianne and Soren next...

*Our friend Shirley said we could take a few days and travel while we are here. But we know we would feel terrible if we went away and something happened that damaged her flat or car. We feel very lucky just to be in London, to explore places we've not had time for in the past, and to take day trips. Also, we do expect to visit our friends in Denmark and Italy at another time. They mean a great deal to us, and our days of traveling are not over yet.

Marvelous Motown

Image from  the Motown: The Musical website

Our taste in music is very broad, and it certainly includes some of the oldies-but-goodies from the Motown era. We missed "Motown: The Musical" when the touring company came to Seattle a few years ago, but we made up for it by seeing it in London at the winter half-price ticket sale. As you can imagine, the theater was rockin'!

Before we took our seats, I went to the ladies room and was greeted by a sign on the back of the door. In the dim light, my phone didn't take a very good picture, but this is what the sign said:

Attention all budding Dianas & Smokeys!

We know you can sing, but please refrain

from doing so until directed by the cast or on

your way home!

Oh and we would like to point out, it's Dancing

in the Streets not in your seats!

Please do not be offended if we ask you to moderate your 'enthusiasm'.

Just before the performance started, two ladies entered laughing with drinks in hand. (Kevin later dubbed them "the Absolutely Fabulous team," after the comedic duo of Jennifer Saunders and Joanna Lumley (a.k.a. Edina and Patsy). He didn't mean it unkindly, but there was a certain resemblance in behavior, especially for the older of the two, who, like Patsy wore a lot of makeup, long false eyelashes, and an animal print scarf. 

"You have an accent!," the younger one exclaimed. "Where are you from?" With that opening, we chatted briefly, before the lights went down.

Apparently, "Patsy" had not read the sign in the ladies room, because as soon as the first number began, she started singing along, although--and I will give her credit--not too loudly. Unfortunately, she did not have a tuneful voice, because, I swear, she knew the lyrics to every single song, which she proceeded to demonstrate. One time, the singers onstage stopped, and her little voice rang out over the balcony.

At first, I was a little annoyed. But the acoustics were good, and the professionals were loud enough that I could hear them clearly above the unpaid accompaniment, and I actually began to enjoy Patsy reliving her youth.

By the final number, Patsy got up and was practically dancing in her seat. How could I blame her? I wanted to sing too. I refrained--but like everyone else in the theater--I was swaying from side to side and tap-tap-tapping my toes.

Remembering Emmeline Pankhurst

I had intended to include this monument in my discussions of Brompton Cemetery, but neglected to do so. It marks the grave of Emmeline Pankhurst, a famous suffragette. People still place flowers on her grave.

Emmeline, her daughters and compatriots were imprisoned and force fed when they went on a hunger strike. Their methods were controversial and reportedly even included arson. However, these 
women warriors suspended their protests during World War I to support the British government in its fight against Germany. 

Finally, in 1918, the U.K. extended the right to vote to women over 30, although men could vote at 21. The disparity in age was to make sure that men voters did not become a minority because so many males had died in WWI.

Emmeline died just weeks before the U.K. Parliament extended the vote to all women over 21 in 1928.  (The U.S. granted women suffrage in 1920.) Here she is in a 1913 photo:

Another famous "resident" of Brompton Cemetery is John Snow, whose research in the 19th Century demonstrated that polluted water caused cholera. Although it took many years for his discovery to be fully accepted, once acknowledged, it saved countless lives.

Out and About (Random Photos)

Here's a post that's about nothing, or at least nothing in particular. I had a few photos of excursions we've made and what we've observed along the way, so I thought I would share them--in no chronological order.

I forgot to include the photo of a pane of medieval glass (below) from our visit to the V&A. Amazing how it's still shimmering after all these years. 

And here are some shots of small appliances viewed in a store window. They're from the Italian manufacturer Smeg, decorated by designers from Dolce & Gabbana.

Here's a tea kettle (sorry for the window reflection):

Or maybe you'd prefer the espresso maker? It will only set you back about $645 in the U.S. Don't you think it looks a little like a circus calliope?

Or maybe you'd prefer this beverage fridge? (Yes, it's a beer cooler.)

We later went into the shop, pretending we could afford these items. In truth, we were also hoping to warm up. It was a cold day. We were informed by the attractive female salesperson that Williams & Sonoma offers Smeg products in the U.S. But they're slightly (!) out of my price range.

Finally, when we're out and about, how could we refrain from a pub meal? Here's one of Kevin's favorites, bangers and mash:

While I indulged in steak-and-ale pie. It's not a good substitute for the Pipe of Port's pork-and-plum pie, but it will have to do.

We hear it's very cold at home in Port Ludlow this February. I'm sorry we can't send these rib-sticking hot meals to our friends and family to warm you all up.

Till next time...