A Fantastic Weekend

I now have a retirement plan - I'm moving to Scotland, buying a Highland cow and some sheep and living out the rest of my days surrounded by the most beautiful countryside ever with the most darling accent ever being spoken around me.

Yes, I - like ALV did in Ireland - have communed with my ancestors by traveling to the old country. I'm going to ignore the fact that that term for me also includes not only where I've been for the past several weeks, but also Germany and France. Whatever. The point is, my whirlwind 2 days in Scotland were fantastic and I'm going back as soon as financially possible for a proper visit.

We arrived quite early on Saturday and had to amuse ourselves in central Glasgow until our hotel room was ready, so we first went to the Gallery of Modern Art. We thought it would take quite some time, but it was quite a bit smaller than expected. There were many pieces that we simply did not get, but some were at least interesting if not lovely. This is one of the interesting ones:

Afterwards, we went back to George Square, where our hotel was and where they were having an army-sponsored thing called the Piper's Trail. There was some dumb skit involved, but it was punctuated by piping and dancing and kilts. We were unfortunately in the back row:

After we nabbed our hotel room, we still had a couple hours to kill so we went to The Lighthouse, which is dedicated to architecture and design and, in particular, Glasgow's darling - Charles Rennie Mackintosh. It's not a proper lighthouse of course, as it's in the middle of the city, but it does provide some great views of Glasgow from the top of the Mackintosh Tower (the spiral staircase of which was more practice for St. Paul's):

That pretty much got us to 2 pm, in time for the Whisky Bus. Oh yes. There's more. Specifically, my most "communing with the ancestors" bit - drinking scotch. (They really were involved in the trade of scotch, so I'm not making this up. I think they would have appreciated their descendant enjoying good scotch.) Anyway, we went to Glengoyne Distillery and hello - gorgeousness abounded:

The waterfall from which they (and some 17 other, now closed distilleries) traditionally got their water:

And hey, even more gorgeousness (yes, I'm talking about our adorable guide in the kilt and I don't apologize for it!):

I couldn't take pictures inside the distillery, of course, because you know, there'd be a big boom with my electrical device and all the alcohol vapors. But it was pretty interesting stuff and I think that I've been converted to a scotch drinker for life.

After the ride back into Glasgow, we were pretty hungry, so we decided that while in Scotland, we must do as the Scots do. We ate haggis. And you know, it was actually really good. I expected to take a bite and push it away in disgust based upon my mother's descriptions of exactly how they make haggis, but it was delicious! It tasted exactly like what you would expect of a sheep product - like mutton, only richer. The closest I can describe it is that it was like lamb liverwurst. It does color everything else you're eating for the meal, but I'd definitely do it again.

Since we had gotten up to get to the airport at roughly 2 am that morning, we were quite tired. And you'd think that once we got to the hotel, there would be no more excitement. I kind of wish that had been true... but the fire alarm went off in the middle of the night. After much grogginess and confusion, we trooped downstairs, smelling *something* burning all the way. It must have been a small kitchen fire, since we barely saw the firemen and we were allowed back in a short bit later, but don't let it be said that we had a moment of non-excitement. I did feel rather sorry for the bride and groom that had been still partying in the reception hall though - that must have been a short damper on their spirits.

On Sunday, we trekked over to another of C. R. Mackintosh's famous designs, the Willow Tea Rooms. How darling is English afternoon tea? Very (imagine a couple more sandwiches... we were hungry):

And finally, we went to one of the weirdest museums known to man, the Kelvingrove Museum and Art Gallery:

It had fossils. It had French, Dutch and Italian art. It had Dali. It had stuffed animals (as in the kind that used to be alive and now... aren't). It had mummies. It had an organ (and an organist playing while we were there). It had armor. It had a Spitfire:

And, of course, the elusive haggis:

I didn't even get to half of Glasgow, much less the rest of Scotland. So it's clear I'll have to go back. And live there.

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:

I Only Wanted to Throttle a Few People - Really!

So I'm pretty sure that the second best museum in town (after the incomparable British Museum) is the Victoria & Albert Museum, down near Kensington. ALV and I went down there Friday after classes and had fun pretending to decorate our fictitious mansions with the gorgeous stuff there. ALV went for an ornate French style and I was very much drawn (as I usually am) to the simpler Asian look. The best section was probably the new jewels exhibit, which only opened recently and was not something I'd seen last time I was here. If I had, Jon would have made a quick exit for all the sighing I was doing over the pretty, pretty shiny things. Photographs were allowed inside, but not in the jewel exhibit, which was really the only bit I wanted to photograph. (I did take a few pictures in the courtyard, mainly of the beautiful hydrangea flowers they have, but they've mussed it all up with this hideous new sculpture that fills the lawn. It looked like they were doing construction and I'm still not entirely certain that they weren't.)

Yesterday was an adventure of getting to Windsor Castle, outside the city. We had to go to Paddington Station to get the train and oh good Lord, I hate First Great Western Rail. National Rail said they had a line direct to Windsor but instead of answering our questions ("Where is National Rail in this station?"), FGW employees told us instead to take THEIR train. Thanks, that's not what we asked though. By the end, although we figured out that Windsor Castle's section on "How to Get There" probably needs updating, we were very, VERY reticent at giving FGW any business whatsoever. I was seriously considering creating a scene, which would have included much more colorful versions of asking our one, simple question. But that probably would have broken my own singular rule for this trip - that is, don't get arrested. *sigh* Well, anyway, I was a BIT mollified by finally seeing the Paddington Bear statue at the station:

(If you don't know who Paddington Bear is, your childhood was severely lacking in one of the cutest series of books ever.)

Anyway, we finally (and begrudgingly) took the FGW train and got to Windsor. And then we waited outside as security people made a hash of handling the crowd. (My one non-colorful comment was that if these were the people that helped protect the Queen, she was toast.) After our personal space was violated more times than I could count, we finally got inside. It was, thank goodness, rather pretty:

The Round Tower:

This bit you're not allowed to go into, since it's a "working castle residence" and the royal family actually goes there. Although I don't think I'd ever be comfortable about looking outside my window and seeing tourists gawking over the fence:

St. George's Chapel:

The State Apartments were pretty and full of really fancy furniture that no one has sat on in 50+ years. I wish I could have at least taken pictures of the ceilings which were, oddly, the prettiest parts. That was workmanship, certainly. But overall, it was not as much as I expected, considering the price especially. On the other hand, I've seen it AND I had a very stereotypical English lunch of Shepherd's Pie, which I've always wanted to try. It was quite fantastic, actually.

Still, it was a lot to do and a lot of unnecessary aggravation, so I've taken it easy today. (Again.) My annoyance at yesterday's crowds resurfaced when I tried to go back to the British Museum to see the bits I had missed the first time around. Unfortunately, that included the room with the Egyptian mummies and geez, you couldn't even move in that room. And those audio tour things just make everything worse - people just stand in the middle of the room, in the way, staring blankly at stuff they would have moved right by otherwise. When I came close to tearing one out of an oblivious person's hand when they kept stepping on me, I knew it was time to leave. So I gave up and came back to the Hall. I'll try again after the 24th, when the exhibit on Hadrian opens (I hope there are no audio tours of that). Jon will be sorry he missed it, and I'll have to take a lot of pictures there.

Speaking of Jon (and I don't know why I forgot to mention this last time), I did receive good news from home from him - he officially has a job working as a math teacher for Waco ISD! "Exciting" doesn't even begin to describe how we both feel about this. In two years, Jon has worked at some god-awful jobs (2 of the 3 really were terrible, even in the "if I don't work, we can't pay rent or eat" standard). I am thrilled that that town has finally scrounged up a job that my overly-qualified husband can take without feeling as if college were a waste. He will be an excellent teacher, because he has precisely what good teachers need - intelligence, never-ending patience and a sense of humor.

Lawyers and Liquor - Together Forever

I've been rather boring for the past couple of days. This is why most vacations are usually only a couple weeks long - you just get burnt out constantly doing things. You need a vacation from your vacation. London seemed to agree, as it's been constantly raining and/or looking threatening to the point where staying home under the covers sounds SO much better.

Actually, on Tuesday, we honestly tried to do something both touristy AND lawyerly - we trekked all the way over to the Old Bailey to watch the criminal proceedings. Unfortunately, we had our backpacks... and cameras... and we came right in the middle of lunch hour (more like lunch two hours). So we downed our most expensive beers yet and toddled back to the Hall. Since I won't be bringing my camera back to the Old Bailey next time we go, here's a picture from the shady back road we took:

Last night, despite the rain, we did do one fabulous thing - we went to the Absolut Ice Bar. It was freaking fantastic, even if I was bitterly reminded of exactly why I left New York. They keep it at 5 below zero and serve the drinks in ice glasses. It's small and you only get a bit of time in there, but it was worth it. I understand the attraction of that ice hotel that they build up north every winter.

Me in the ice chair, looking stylish in my thermal cape (this is before I realized I had accidentally turned off my flash, but it lets the blue come out more, even if it is fuzzy):

Our wonderful bartender who let us stay between sessions since we showed up late and even gave us extra splashes of vodka in our drinks:

All us girls (and the discovery of the flash!):


Yes, definitely a must-see/must-drink if you're ever in London.

Holiday Weekend

It's a lazy Monday, full of muffins at an adorable place called The Cinnamon Bar (the tables are full of cinnamon under glass) and laundry. I only have one class on Mondays - European and International Labor Law - and thank goodness, because the European Courts of Justice write their cases like I write blog entries - without editing and little logic. It's translated from German (or is it French?) so maybe that's the issue, but I doubt it. I think the ECJ just enjoys being cryptic, like Yoda, only not as squat and green (although, I haven't seen the ECJ panel - maybe they are squat and green...). I haven't memorized all the EU treaties like they have, so it's a little slow going when they refer to roughly 50 different parts of 3 treaties within 2 sentences. I would fear for getting out alive except that many of my classmates (excluding ALV, of course) seem to forget the "school" part of "summer school" and have taken to showing up to our 11:15 class hung over and without note-taking implements. After BLS, it's kind of shocking. It's weird that I only have culture shock inside the classroom, surrounded by Americans (and a few Australians).

Anyway, ALV spent her weekend in Ireland, so I toured London over the weekend with others. July 4th was celebrated in Covent Garden (the theatre district) with a Indian food and English pubbing (I heart irony). Saturday was spent walking around Portobello Road Market, where everything I loved was ungodly expensive, proving once again that I have costly (but very good) taste. Speaking of ungodly expensive, I went to the movies on Saturday night to see Sex and the City (no one with me wanted to see, oddly enough, Wanted - that'll have to wait, I suppose). It was a movie I could have just as easily waited to see on HBO, but it was a nice night out, I suppose. British cinemas are strange, we discovered, as we sat and watched what was the longest string of commercials EVER before the movie started. It clocked in at 27 minutes and included only 2 actual trailers, one of which I'd seen before. My mother said that British ads were amusing, but she hasn't been here in about 15 years. 15 years changes a lot, apparently.

Yesterday, a friend and I took the Underground to Kew Gardens and walked around for 4 1/2 hours, despite the wind and on-and-off rain. It's really lovely, actually, and I don't even know anything about plants.

I liked the Water Lily House the best, with the giant water lilies that I've seen in Peru:

Kew Gardens is, of course, home to Kew Palace. George III lived there during his bouts of porphyria and Queen Charlotte died there. We saw the actual chair in which she died, which was creepy and reaffirmed my belief that Brits are rather morbid:

I liked the Japanese Gateway:

Inside the Temperate House (the largest Victorian greenhouse), there's the tallest indoor plant (a Chilean wine palm), which is 150 years old and 16 meters high:

And then we went up 18 meters into the air on the Treetop Walkway. A wee bit nerve-wracking:


After that climb, I'm feeling a bit better about my ability to get up to St. Paul's Dome sometime this trip. I swear, I'll make it this time!

And I Did Walk 1000 Miles... I Would Not Walk 1000 More

Today was a tad too full of stuff - I'm about to collapse and it's only 11 pm. That or I'm old. Let's say that I'm just worn out for the day though, and not the rest of my life as I know it.

First was a trip to the British Museum. Ironically, my first trip during my stay so far, although it's possibly the closest major attraction to where I'm living AND it's free.

Hey, look! This seems familiar:

I found it amusing that nowhere in the museum did they refer to these (and all the others) as the Elgin Marbles, as if they're pretending they don't have them. English snobbery amuses me when it's not directed at the Scots:

I miss Charlie (but I'm glad he's not this big... or made of stone):

This is a new addition since 2 years ago. I wonder why...:


After the museum, I went to meet a group of the summer students for a "Legal Walking Tour", which would have been far more interesting if it hadn't been raining off and on at the one time I forgot my umbrella. And I'm still not sure I understand how you become a barrister in England, but I do know that it sounds like entirely too much hassle and heartache. I have a new appreciation for the LSAT.

Gray's Inn (one of the Four Inns of Court) has pretty much one famous member - Sir Francis Bacon:

Lincoln's Inn, under the church, where the orphans were left during the 1700s when times weren't going so well:

Where barristers and judges have been getting their robes and wigs for hundreds of years:

The Royal Courts of Justice (the civil courts). You can see the dark clouds that are threatening to pour down on us, which they did just a short time later:

And the famous Temple Church, built by the Knights Templar in the 11th century:


It was at this point that the rain soaked us through and the guide, ironically, gave rather vague directions to the nearest Tube stop before leaving in the other direction - probably to get a cup of tea.

Less Exciting

So I've been having a more relaxing week so far. Sunday, ALV and I traveled up and down Oxford Street, which was both fun and frustrating. "If you want to look in the store, go INSIDE the store!" as ALV pointed out. Window shopping is not very fruitful when you have thousands of people irritated at you for walking at a snail's pace.

Monday night we went to Avenue Q at Noel Coward Theatre, which was hilarious. But RAUNCHY. Puppet nudity, people! But really, I think it should be a test to see if you're too uptight - if you can't laugh at Avenue Q, you need to loosen up. I knew I'd like it from the very first song - "What Can You Do With a BA in English?" Ah yes, that is the million dollar question, isn't it?

Yesterday was Canada Day! And the only event for which I have pictures!

They played street hockey, while the announcer kept referring to the pavement as "ice" and the ball as a "puck":

Even puppies were Canadian (the man had a pipe and umbrella like a stereotypical Englishman, but I couldn't get a good shot and was too shy to ask):

ALV, before we started whining about the heat and heading home:

And what even I, who dislikes children in general, thought was pretty darn cute:


Today was a little jaunt to Harrod's, which was surprisingly not nearly as crowded as when Jon and I went 2 years ago, despite it being sale time. The sale rather ruined it actually, since the big red cardboard signs removed the luxurious mystery of Harrod's. I swear, it's like a theme park, but the rich people are the only ones that can really enjoy themselves. I'd have pictures but someone else was yelled at for taking pictures in the fine jewelry section and I was already on the no-no list for having a backpack. At least they didn't kick us out for wearing jeans and looking like little scruffy vagabonds.