Travel Diary

September 23, 2002 - September 26, 2002
It's now Thursday night at 11:30. I have be up at 5:30AM to get ready to catch a 7:30 train to Paris. Why am I writing? Because if I wait until Monday, I'll forget what happened this week. Anyway, the train ride is three hours long. I can sleep then. For now, I summon up the week:
September 23, 2002 - Monday was a return to school. Two classes in the morning were followed by an afternoon lecture. Maybe it's the climate here, but the wood in the chairs seem exceptionally hard. I mean my bum hurts after 10 minutes. Try sitting for two hours without standing. I guess it's a silly thing to gripe about, but the problem really is a pain in the...well, you know.
Monday was a good day; however, I was able to make plans to do some sight research with a history classmate, Kristen. Not a bad way to start the week. Monday night was a beer at a pub and then home.
September 24, 2002 - Tuesday, I thought was a free day. I mean it normally is. That turned out to be not the case. I got a cellphone message from Heather saying we had History of Film class that day. Oh no! This wouldn't do. I'm supposed to go to Westminster Abbey with Kristen. I show up around 12pm to meet her and let her know, but alas, she's nowhere to be found. Stood up. Ack. Bad way to continue the week. I roam around town for a while and then call Kalaine and let her know the news. I then head back to the college.
When I arrive back at the college, I speak with Kalaine and Gardner. They tell me that they had just met with Kristen and she thought the meeting was at 1pm. Ack. That's not good. Wait. That is good. That means she didn't stand me up. Okay, I race off to find her, and eventually do. We straighten everything out, but heck, I still have class. I can't cut a class that only meets once a week. Besides, we sit back and watch movies. Not your typical hard class or anything.
Back at film class, we watch "Birth of a Nation." The teacher gives a large disclaimer at the beginning of the movie, saying how it does contain offensive things, but it is a classic and broke new grounds in film history. The intro to the movie also has this disclaimer, as well as the movie itself. Good grief, if everyone has to make apologies about a movie's content, maybe in fact the movie isn't so great after all. But I should give it a chance and at least see the movie before making that call.
Movie seen. Call made. It was awful. I wish I could find more redeeming merits in the movie. Perhaps there were some. But, sorry. If so, they were buried too deeply and I was too tired to see it. In all fairness, we didn't even finish the movie. There were 20 minutes left, but I didn't have high hopes. It's sort of like having your horse still in the race -- just three laps behind. Sure, it could happen. All the other horses could have heart attacks and keel over. Sure, it could happen.
And remember what I said about the hard chairs and the 2-hour lecture. This was the same hard chairs and a 3-hour movie. Next time, I'm at least bringing popcorn. It's different over here. We can eat in class. We can drink too. (Though they ask us not to drink beer in class.) It's just funny that they even have to mention this. Back home, it would be like saying "Okay, Class, just a reminder, don't stab the student next to you."
September 25, 2002 - Wednesday was the big day -- the Tube strike. I probably mentioned it before, but for the sake of those sleeping, the Tube is the underground subway system. They do have subways. Their subways simply go under a busy street from one side to the other. Some even think it's silly that our subways are the metro line. Though some back home would find it silly to call the metro something we usually keep toothpaste in. Potato -- poTAHto. Tomato, ToMAHto. Let's call the whole thing off.
And that's precisely what they did.
Thus, on Wednesday, September 25, the Tube workers went on a 24-hour strike and the entire underground metro/subway/tube/potato/tomato/etc. system shut down. About two million people are said to ride the Tube every day. About two million people were now in their cars, taking buses, or walking for miles and miles. Yeah, Wednesday won't be forgotten soon.
I slept in that day. I took my time getting ready to head down town. At 12:30pm, I headed to the bus stop. After 15 minutes at the bus stop, I noticed that everyone seemed to be gathering at the bus stop across the street from me (the one near the church). Eventually, I got a dose of wisdom and decided to actually ask a question to the guy next to me. "Does this bus head north?" I said. "Yup," he responded. Okay, wrong stop. I crossed the street. People were shuffling their feet waiting for the bus. I did notice a pretty blonde at the same stop. Though, she was a little ways from me. I hated to saunter on over there, say, "How you doin?" and have her say, "I carry mace." It's always such a long saunter back. Though hold the line. Wait a second. She came over to say hi to me. Things are indeed looking up. I chatted with her a little and noticed she had an accent. I guessed she was English for a while, but I quickly discovered it was a Minnesota accent. How did I confuse Minnesota with English? I dunno. Spend some time over here and you'll soon discover that you can't figure any accents out.
We rode the bus for a ways and then everyone got out. It's nice to leave a bus when you've arrived at your stop. It's not really as pleasant when you're forced to leave the bus five miles from your destination. After 20 minutes, we boarded another bus and continued the quest for down town. This bus took us three stops and then the same thing happened. Everybody got to leave the bus. You see the busses were severely impacted by the Tube being shut down. Add the influx of cars on the road, and even the crowded busses can't make good time. The city's transportation was crippled that day.
After we were stranded a second time, we just decided to walk the rest of the way. Fortunately, I had my trusty map book in hand. I also had my compass with me. It was a compass my homestay folks let me borrow just one night prior. Using the two items, I got us to the school in 20 minutes. I exchanged numbers with her, just in case she needed an escort home. She headed for her class (30 minutes late now) and I checked into the computer lab for a spell.
After checking email, I headed back out onto the roads. I would be walking some great distances now. From the school, I headed to Westminster Abbey. I grabbed about 40 shots of Big Ben. I simply must have that tower in good light. From there, I wandered around the Thames River and then over to Trafalgar Square. I even found the portrait museum, but only had 20 minutes to spend there before it closed. Unfortunately, I needed more time as I had a huge homework assignment due from visiting that museum.
Back at the school, I did some email and then it was time to head back home. It was past rush hour, but the bus system didn't know that. The busses were as bad as before, only this time they were so full, they didn't even bother stopping at bus stops. Huge lines of people gathered to wait for busses. I simply found it quicker to begin walking the seven miles home. The journey led me to some pretty "interesting" parts of town. I guess you could call them shady, though, again, the English aren't quite the same as back home. Sure, the people seem to get frustrated and upset driving around the streets. They may even yell quite a lot at times and shake a fist. Yet, nobody really seems to come to blows. For whatever reasons, people here (In general, sure there are exceptions. There are ALWAYS exceptions) aren't as violent as in other countries. Besides, it was 9pm at night. Not exactly the witching hour. Or maybe 9pm is the witching hour. I don't know. I always assumed the witching hour was around 3am. Correct me if I'm wrong. Keep in mind, I won't correct my journal entry if I am. I probably won't even mention your correction on my next entry. But you'll still have the knowledge that you knew the witching hour time and I didn't. Now, isn't that something to write home to mom about?
After a few miles of "shady" town, I rested and studied my map. That's when "drunk Scottish Guy" appeared. He came up and asked if I were lost. I told him I was trying to decide which way to take at the fork in the road. He offered some help, but really wasn't too sure himself. He then proceeded to talk to me about everything from fishing in Scotland to him wanting to visit California but not being able to due to his past convictions preventing him from getting a visa. Yeah. That's always comforting to hear. There's something about the word "prior convictions" to really make you think, "Yeah, I'm in the right part of town."
In the end, the guy meant zero trouble. He had just left the bar before getting his fill of conversation for the evening. I chatted for a spell, but then said goodbye and headed off on my quest for home.
About a half mile down the road, I finally decided to wait it out at another bus station. It was now 9:30pm and things were sure to have slowed down. They did. I caught the next bus. I was now riding in style. Ironically enough, people may have concerns about the safety of walking some neighborhoods, but truth be told. The bus ride was probably five times more dangerous than the walking I had done. For I was now essentially standing up on a metal platform on wheels going 30 miles per hour. A simple crash would have resulted in me simply flying out the front windshield. About 20 minutes later, I got off at my station and finished walking home. It was a long day--a long day indeed.
September 26, 2002 - Thursday was no school, but much to do. I took the 7:30 am train down town. Yup. The strike was over. The trains were running again. Everyone was happy again. At least they will be until next week when another 24-hour strike is planned. These strikes really do hurt. Many people are angry with the Tube workers. Some look beyond that and get angry at the Tube execs. Personally, I hardly know anything about the system to get angry at all. I'm inconvenienced. Yeah. I'm not digging these strikes. But life is too short to go around fuming at Tube workers. Anyway, I have to save my frustrations for the ritual of paying $3.00 (two pounds) for a pint of beer. And it's not like it's imported from America. It's two pounds for the ENGLISH beer. Maybe a beer strike would result in lower beer prices, hmmmm...I might be on to something here.
So I travel to town. I then hit the National Portrait Gallery for two hours. Our assignment was nothing short of a scavenger hunt. I darted all over the museum looking for the answers to my numerous questions assigned by the professor. This assignment did help though. By doing it, I learned where everything in the gallery was, and where everything wasn't. You can't just look at the pictures there; you gotta read the text next to it. Boy, the world is changing day by day.
My work wasn't done once I left. I then had to visit the Museum of London. It's free. Most of the city's museums are that way. But again, no pictures. Most of the city's museums, etc. Argh! I mean argh, big time. I'm there for the pictures. Sure, the knowledge is nice. Fine and dandy. It's all good. But heck. I'm a photographer by heart (no, not by trade. I don't make a cent for the most part). I just want the pictures. The trivia is fine. I enjoy learning and all. But when push comes to shove, I'll take the pictures.
Well, no I won't. Cause they don't allow it.
After the museum, my work STILL wasn't done. I had that assignment of reporting on a special sight in London. There are five total reports due. The first one is due Monday. I took the Tube (ah, so nice when it's not on strike) over to the Mansion House and grabbed some photos of that. Turns out Nathaniel Hawthorne once dined there in 1852. The house is the residence and office the Lord Manor of London now. Tourists don't get to eat there anymore, not unless they're invited by his Lordship Manor-ship. I stood around a bit, but he never showed up to invite me in. Okay, HIS family isn't on my Christmas list this year.
Heading back to the college, I stopped briefly at the Guild Hall. A free outdoor concert was performing. An orchestra was there, with opera singers belting out some well-known tunes. During this time, the ladies sang The Flower Duet by Delibes. I found the music enchanting and stayed until the end of the piece. A nearby lady kindly asked if I would be interested in donating to the charity they were raising money for. I declined and she was just as kind in saying thanks anyway. It's amazing how some of these people are. Their hearts are so full of goodness. Everywhere I look, there's one charity or another raising money to help this cause or that. Centuries ago, they were a country bent on colonizing the rest of the world; now they only want to help it.
Once back at school, I had two hours of homework to do before going home. I finished the homework and then met up with some friends. However, we didn't go home. We went out to dinner. Turns out one of the girls had a birthday. Our meandering around the streets soon led us to a pizza joint. We dined there and the food was delicious. I had a simple cheese pizza of course. It did the trick since I hadn't eaten since breakfast and had been walking for many miles. After dinner, we headed to our homes. Our next stop -- Paris.

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