A real, live falcon perched outside the National Gallery in Trafalgar Square– right in the middle of London! One of those moments it did pay to look up at what everyone was staring at.
Just when you thought you had escaped my endless narratives of what we were doing while I was on my unscheduled blogging sabbatical… well, you still have time to click away from the page… I’ve been reminded I never finished the five months part of the deal, though I did give you the five days. So tonight I give you: January! (cue trumpet trills, or at least kazoo calls).
The week the littles went back to school, I got run over by some virus. I was down hard for a day, and then really weak and tired. But Will and Chloe were here, and I wasn’t going to waste our precious time recuperating in bed. So once the fever passed, I dragged myself out to spend time with them– doing pub lunches, making a visit to the National Gallery, and taking a boat trip to Greenwich.
The day we went to the gallery we noticed a bunch of people pointing their cameras up toward the building facade. Chloe and I rolled our eyes at each other, not understanding the compulsion that makes people take pictures of random things that “might be important landmarks.” Not that anyone elected us the culture jury, mind you. But then we looked up. And we saw what they were photographing– a falcon come to perch near the front entrance. Upon further observation, we saw that there were actually two or three flying in Trafalgar Square, and they were accompanied by handlers, to whom they returned periodically– perching on their arms, just like the falconers you might see in a King Arthur movie! Pretty amazing.
Inside the museum, Chloe was pleased to note that she had absorbed something from her Italian Renaissance Art class in the fall (yes, liberal arts degree). And Will was happy to admire the Turner landscapes, though I think he still prefers Bierstadt’s American West landscapes. As for me, any day I get to visit the Leonardo da Vinci cartoon is a good day. (No, it’s not animated and it doesn’t have a zany laugh track playing in the background).
On the water… (river photos from a 3rd grade field trip in the fall).
Unfortunately, Chloe fell hard to whatever bug we had going (I swear it wasn’t my fault!), so she couldn’t join us the day we took the boat up the River Thames. It was cold and slightly miserable that day, but fortunately we were sitting inside. If you’ve never done this little trip, it’s well worth it– London looks different from the river. And it’s so mind-boggling, because the river twists and turns so much you can hardly figure out where you are– it seems like St Paul’s Cathedral ought to be somewhere up ahead on your left and you suddenly see the dome off on your right.
Cruising past the HMS Belfast– if you’re very lucky, the officers on deck will wave, as they did that day to the 3rd graders!
Depending on where you board, you see the Houses of Parliament, the London Eye, the Globe, the HMS Belfast, the Tower of London… well, most everything! The transit boat is much faster, but the slightly slower tourist boats give you a narrative with all kinds of landmarks and interesting bits of London history thrown in (like pirate executions, famous riverside pubs, histories of the many bridges, and what that building-that-looks-so-familiar-but-you-have-no-idea-what-it-is actually is). Both kind of boats leave from Westminster and Embankment, and the people in the ticket office at Embankment are really helpful. Also, if you have an Oyster card, you can show it to get 30% off your ticket…
Looking back at the Shard after coming under the Tower Bridge.
Our destination by boat was Greenwich, which is the maritime town that hosts the world’s Meridian Line and Greenwich Mean Time (GMT? the zero point for time zones around the world). It also happens to be a charming place with lots to see– The Old Royal Naval College (designed by Christopher Wren), the Royal Observatory, and The Cutty Sark (fastest clipper ship of its time). Of course, there’s also a Byron Burger restaurant with its siren song right on the pier when you step off the boat in a January chill. That was our first stop, as Will and I couldn’t resist having a ‘proper burger,’ as their slogan calls it.
The hull of The Cutty Sark– the new museum design lets you admire the shapely bones of the fastest clipper in history– while sipping an espresso from the cafe.
Then it was on to The Cutty Sark, which has a colorful history as a China tea trade ship beginning in the 1860s, then a cargo-hustling ship (with mutinies and murders, even!) once steam ships took over the tea trade, an Australian wool-trade ship, and finally a Portuguese cargo ship. Eventually she was brought back to England and finally placed in dry dock in Greenwich as a museum in tribute to that era of shipping history, as well as to the ship’s speed record-breaking past. A fire on board nearly destroyed her, but led to a major preservation effort that encased her hull in molten gold. Okay, it’s not molten gold, but it looks like it, and I got your attention back after my humdrum history lesson, right? Anyway, it’s a good example of how to turn a really bad thing into something good. We went to the museum when the kids were little, before the fire, and it has seen a serious upgrade, with the encased hull becoming a major feature rather than a tragic ending for the ship.
From there we trudged through the town and up a hill to the Royal Observatory, going through Greenwich Park, which was still all torn up and muddy from the Olympic Equestrian events held there last summer. Did you catch any of those? I did not, but what a cool setting for them: between the Royal Observatory and the Old Royal Naval College.
The Old Royal Naval College, with the remains of the Olympic Equestrian venue in the foreground, and Canary Wharf (London’s newer financial district) in the background.
At the top of a very steep hill is the Royal Observatory. It’s hard to imagine any place in London being a good spot for observing a clear view of the night skies, but I suppose this is as good as it gets. The clouds do part occasionally. At any rate, they were able to work out from here a randomly inserted vertical line across the globe to divide East from West– the Prime Meridian, Zero Degrees Longitude. Yes. There is an actual line. You can just see it painted down the window in the photo at left, and it runs across the courtyard then stops at a sculpture that points off in the continuation of the line, much like the old arrows in geometry that tell you the line goes on and on forever. We also enjoyed climbing up into the dome of the old observatory and seeing the massive apparatus and its housing.
Shall we just say the telescope is ‘bigger than a breadbox’?
I wish I could remember specs, or even how it compares to other telescopes around the world, but those facts just don’t stay in my head. (And I’m sure you’re glad of that, as this whole post has been a bit schoolmarmish). But fear not… I’m nearing the end of the field trip. We did stop in a museum at the Old Royal Naval College on the way back to our Thames boat, and we caught a very nice Ansel Adams exhibit. Definitely on target with the East meets West theme, to see all those gorgeous photographs of the American West. As if he needed any encouragement, I do think it made Will more ready than ever to get back to his Colorado home– where he would be headed within a few days. Actually, it made me want to go there, too!
Before the big kids left, we took the opportunity to celebrate Claire’s 9th birthday. Our special guest was Marblehead friend Madeline, who was on her way back to university in Scotland. The girls probably didn’t like me snapping their photo on the tube, but it was a good thing I did, as I don’t have any other pictures of them together this time. On Saturday, Claire took a birthday entourage including Mom, big sister Chloe and friend Madeline to the salon to get her ears pierced. But by Sunday noon, all the big kids were gone and we were left feeling a bit desolate again.
Hampstead Heath in snow.
Because I just can’t end this on that sad sentence, I will slip in a photo of late January snowfall in London. Quite the big doings here. Just a week before the snowfall, I had been kind of making fun of the little shop down the street with the enormous pile of plastic sleds (or sledges, as they call them here) for sale. It really doesn’t snow much in London, you know. Day of the snowfall? Yes, I was queued up with half a dozen other locals to buy a sled or two. Sometimes a gamble pays off, eh?
This one is for the grandparents!
That, my friends, was January. February’s Harry Potter studios and the London Eye, plus running tours and whatever else, will have to wait for another post– or maybe we will just Spring Ahead to March. On that note, sorry about your lost hour this weekend, U.S. friends– now I will be even more confused about the time differences separating us. Perhaps I should return to Greenwich for a recalibration…