I spent most of Friday getting lost. I got myself across the Thames no problem, but then I tried to find my way around... no easy feat. So in between each of these events, add half an hour of me wandering.
First stop was the HMS Belfast, or rather, just looking at it and taking pictures. It was closed... which I have found in the past two days to be the theme. My next stop was the Southwark Cathedral, which I still cannot pronounce. South-wark. I loved how each part of the church was built in a different century. The stones are so old... there's even a Roman road buried underneath it all. Next, I went to the Golden Hinde recreation. I felt bad for the folks who must have had to live there so long. The ceilings were so low! Even I had to duck, and the average height of an Elizabethan man is two inches taller than me. So I'm the right height, but just in the wrong century...
It took me forever to find the Clink Prison Museum, and it was not as nice as I had hoped. It's more of a tourist attraction rather than a historical exhibit. Although they did go over a lot of the torture devices, and described some truly horrifying fates. *shudder*.
Next was Twelfth Night, review upcoming. The Globe tried to sell me seat cushions for a pound. Really? +1 for Blackfriars. And Blackfriars folks, you are no longer allowed to complain.
After I got home, I talked to Ben for a little bit, then I wandered off to the National Gallery. It didn't interest me that much either, mostly because I don't know painting. There was, however, a Davinci, which was awesome. The difference between his work and everyone else is so clear... the light works so much differently in his painting. So lovely. The Gallery didn't let me take any pictures, though, even without flash. I'd have loved to take some pictures of the architecture of the building. The high ceilings had arches & golden designs. Paintings, in general, were quite large. Impressive. And they all seemed to be about religious subjects. I'm a little confused why they were preoccupied with these. I found three versions of Saint Michael, and two of them made him look effeminate. The only one that was a little better had him in nice armor.
After the Gallery, I sat in Trafalger Square, geeking that I was in London. And then a biker almost ran me over. Then another. Suddenly I was in a sea of bicyclists in pink reflective jackets with pink balloons tied to their bikes. I was completely confused. It was a like a flash mob of bicyclists! And then I saw the sign: Happy 18th Critical Mass. I grinned. They adopted our tradition!
When I was done dodging, then I got myself a sammich and went home. Long day it was, for me!
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