Lots of No Picture Stuff

The past three days have been, in some ways, more adventurous than I would have preferred. But these things happen. If you recall, I tried to go to an Old Bailey court proceeding awhile ago and on Monday, I returned. It is a LONG trek, made longer by the fact that we had to first go back to the dorm and drop off our large bags and cameras. But it was a nice day, so we did it, arriving shortly after 2 pm, which is when court started up again. We almost missed the public gallery entrance, as it's marked in tiny letters on an unassuming door. (ALV spotted it - I would have circled forever.) Once inside, we endured the most thorough security check I have EVER been through. And that's including the bag search in Ecuador that involved guards with Uzis. I got FRISKED. She also looked at every single receipt I've accumulated in my purse for the past three weeks, as if I could give someone a deadly paper cut. And then, of course, there was a metal detector. London has been having considerable problems with fatal knife attacks recently, but this was rather ridiculous. Especially when we realized that the public gallery, once we got there, is roughly thirty feet above the main court. Unless I'm Spidey, there's no way I'd be getting down into the pit with the barristers.

Oh well. We settled in... for 30 minutes of opening argument. It was a shaken baby case, which is significantly better than a DUI, but I did spend half of the time trying to figure out if the woman speaking was on the side of the Crown or the defense. We missed her introduction to the jury, and she was so deferential to the other side, that I was wholly confused for a bit there. It took me quite awhile to figure out that she was prosecuting the nanny (instead of defending the parents, for instance). Once opening arguments were finished, we were ushered out by a no-nonsense guard. Well, that was that.

Yesterday was significantly more successful - we went to St. Martin in the Fields' lunchtime concert. Usually it's some private school choir or the like, but this time it was a Beethoven Festival award winner from Russia and he was quite fantastic. He played a rather odd piece by CPE Bach and then a gorgeous piece by Beethoven (of course). It was lovely and free (aside from donations). Even if I don't manage to get to one of the "proper" evening concerts there, I feel like I've listened to wonderful music and got more than my measly donation's worth. The inside of the church is, by the way, quite gorgeous, except for this weird window treatment that looks very modern amidst very French woodwork and gilt. It was odd and unfortunately, you just have to take my word for it, as there were no pictures allowed.

The fun kept on going today as ALV and I hopped down to the Salvadore Dali museum this afternoon after classes. It is, just as it was the first time I went, TRIPPY. And kinda fantastic too. It doesn't have "Persistence of Memory" of course, but it has a lot of his sculpture, a few furniture pieces and lots and lots of his drawings. He was a strange guy, no doubt. Who else would think of making a lobster into a telephone?

After contemplating dropping our non-existent $30,000 on a genuine Dali bronze at the small gallery at the end, we hurried back to the school for the most boring information lecture EVER about how to use our exam software. They seriously told us how to spell-check. I wish I were kidding. Anyway, we only sat through it because they had a wine & cheese party straight afterwards. Free wine? Yes, thank you. It was quite good actually - I don't even care for wine (although it's a personal mission on this trip to start liking it). After fine wine and fancy cheese, we were hesitant to go back to the Hall and eat the slop they try to force down our throats, so we went to a tapas bar instead. It was freaking fantastic.

Well, except for a crazy guy at the next table, who began complaining bitterly to the waiter as soon as we sat down that he hadn't seen his girlfriend/wife/whatever for months and he had specifically requested a private table. We were lost... a) you expect a private table at a place advertising all you can eat tapas for a tenner? and b) WHAT are you so keen to talk about with your girlfriend/wife/whatever over dinner that you absolutely don't want people three feet away to hear? Actually, I know the answer to that question, but um... there's a time and place for that. In the middle of a busy restaurant is NOT it. All of this would have been fine except for the fact that the both of them started turning to us mid-complaint and saying "Really, it's not you. It's just we want some time alone. It's not you!" But so clearly, folks, IT IS. Thanks ever so for making us feel uncomfortable as you alternately berate the waitstaff and apologize to us for something that should not involve us at all. I wish it ended there, but unfortunately, the host got very upset and essentially told the very rude customer to leave if he was so unhappy - they simply could not assure him a "private" table. The V.R.C. then proceeded to FOLLOW the host around the restaurant, continuing to complain and bitch AND telling other patrons exactly how rude said host had been.

What a mess. But after the V.R.C. left, we did have a fantastic dinner that involved many a tapas for a tenner. And on the way home, I did snap this one photo of the oddest little parade I've ever seen - dozens and dozens of people on roller blades, skating to weird techno from stereos strapped to a few people's backs. It's blurry, but in light of what I've been exposed to today, I'm going to call it surrealist art: