Lord Nelson, who is facing away actually:
The National Gallery on the other side, which is full of paintings of the Virgin and Child, to the point that they bleed together. I preferred the Impressionists section - hooray for Renoir, Degas, Van Gogh and Seurat:
And St. Martin in the Fields to one side:
I might have to suck it up and pay a massive fee to go to a concert at St. Martin's, otherwise my orchestra teacher from high school might hunt me down and kill me for not doing so. We'll see. Right now, I'm more excited by the prospect of listening to foul-mouthed puppets in Avenue Q.
We took a bus tour on Sunday, during which I took a lot of pictures that included the tops of people's heads. Today, we went to the London Aquarium between class and a "strawberry and cream" reception (which is apparently some Wimbledon thing - obviously, I know nothing about tennis or its traditions). The aquarium is *gasp* overpriced, but also close to the London Eye and, across the way, my total obsession, Parliament and Big Ben. I did you the favor of not posting the 20 photos I have of Big Ben (and yes, I'm aware that that's the name of the actual bell, not the tower... blah blah blah, hush you).
Let's ignore the fact that I have a better picture of the Eye from a previous trip:
From when I was - in ALV's words - "all up in Big Ben's grill":
A terrible photo of me, but the only one I have so far - and THIS is why:
On Saturday, we're taking a trip to Bath and Stonehenge. And just to prove that I'm a total American tourist, when they called it a "coach trip", I had to think for several minutes before realizing that this didn't involve a team of horses and a carriage.
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Here is my "language does not mean the same thing" story, so when you make the inevitable flubs that we all do, you will be able to go "Well at least I didn't do THAT."
When I was in high school I was on one of those student ambassador trips and we happened to be in Australia for the 4th of July. Because we were at a country fair and there were 40 Americans, they decided it would be fun and entertaining to have us all get on stage and sing some patriotic songs, like America the Beautiful and Star Spangled Banner and junk and stuff (which no one knew all the words to, so awkward). But then, to add something fun, we decided to finish with Take Me Out to the Ball Game. We had reached the "let's ROOT, ROOT, ROOT for the whole team" when the entire audience fell apart; shock, screaming, gasping, laughing, looks of horror.
Clearly, this was not good.
No one would tell us why at first, until we ran into a little old grandmother who informed us that "root" is slang for "to have sex."
Only apparently it's a more vulgar word than that, so we got to shout, at a country fair filled with kids,
"Let's FUCK, FUCK, FUCK for the home team!"
My passport has since been revoked.
That might be the best story ever. I'll have to mention that one to the Australian students that are here with us. :D
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