Here's a snap of mom and me on our favorite mode of transportation - the underground. I believe this is tower hill.
Showing posts with label London. Show all posts
Showing posts with label London. Show all posts
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Time fixed
Phew! I fixed the time stamp on my blog to be British time. Now you all know how screwed up my clock is!
Van Gogh
I don't know enough about art to have a favorite artist, but I do know that I've always enjoyed looking at Vincent Van Gogh's paintings.
It was more impressive than I would have expected to see the original painting A Wheatfield with Cypress hanging in the National Gallery in London.
The crude simplicity of the mountains.
The swirling, cloudy sky, deepened by the texture in the paint.
The golden field grasses, almost blowing in the wind.
So compelling that I didn't pay much attention to the cypresses, which Van Gogh said looked like Egyptian obelisks.
It was more impressive than I would have expected to see the original painting A Wheatfield with Cypress hanging in the National Gallery in London.
The crude simplicity of the mountains.
The swirling, cloudy sky, deepened by the texture in the paint.
The golden field grasses, almost blowing in the wind.
So compelling that I didn't pay much attention to the cypresses, which Van Gogh said looked like Egyptian obelisks.
The Center of it All: Trafalgar Square
Some might argue with my characterization of this concrete plaza in the midst of London. Certainly there are markets, parks, buildings that could lay claim to that title.
For me yesterday, though, that place was Trafalgar Square. We walked up from the British Parliament and Westminster Abbey, passing a few pubs (to stop at a cafe) along the way. I saw one of the red phone booths as well. You could see the Nelson Column for nearly the whole way.
The square itself is designated as the place that all of London came to celebrate a joyous occasion. Now it's the site for demonstrations, protests and other public gatherings. Yesterday, an enormous truck - made even larger by the fact that it was in London where vehicles are generally smaller than in America - pulled onto the square to pick up some metal gates that had apparently been in use over the weekend.
I've digressed a little. The square seemed to be the center of it all to me because it had everything. It had presence, from the towering Nelson's Column (looks taller than Big Ben from the square) to the fountains, the bronze lions, all in front of a backdrop of the national gallery.
In front of the square was one of those roundabouts, and bus after bus after taxi after taxi after motorbike after motorbike sped around the curves on their way to their destinations. There were people everywhere. So it had activity.
And stepping inside the national gallery was a treat. As the green marbled columns, arching ceilings and windowed ceilings swept the eye upward, the masterpieces on the walls anchored your gaze. No more was this true when I turned a corner and saw some of Monet's water lillies, then another corner to see Van Gogh's chair and sunflowers, Pisarro's dancers and so many more.
The ride home was more stimulating from a people watching point of view, but Trafalgar Square gave me that intangible thing that I came to London for.
A sense of place and also a sense of grandeur.
For me yesterday, though, that place was Trafalgar Square. We walked up from the British Parliament and Westminster Abbey, passing a few pubs (to stop at a cafe) along the way. I saw one of the red phone booths as well. You could see the Nelson Column for nearly the whole way.
The square itself is designated as the place that all of London came to celebrate a joyous occasion. Now it's the site for demonstrations, protests and other public gatherings. Yesterday, an enormous truck - made even larger by the fact that it was in London where vehicles are generally smaller than in America - pulled onto the square to pick up some metal gates that had apparently been in use over the weekend.
I've digressed a little. The square seemed to be the center of it all to me because it had everything. It had presence, from the towering Nelson's Column (looks taller than Big Ben from the square) to the fountains, the bronze lions, all in front of a backdrop of the national gallery.
In front of the square was one of those roundabouts, and bus after bus after taxi after taxi after motorbike after motorbike sped around the curves on their way to their destinations. There were people everywhere. So it had activity.
And stepping inside the national gallery was a treat. As the green marbled columns, arching ceilings and windowed ceilings swept the eye upward, the masterpieces on the walls anchored your gaze. No more was this true when I turned a corner and saw some of Monet's water lillies, then another corner to see Van Gogh's chair and sunflowers, Pisarro's dancers and so many more.
The ride home was more stimulating from a people watching point of view, but Trafalgar Square gave me that intangible thing that I came to London for.
A sense of place and also a sense of grandeur.
Mind the Gap
I struggled with what to pick as my theme from my first day in London. With the whirlwind of arrival after a sleepless night, it was in a stupor that I first saw London.
Then it occured to me - this ubiquitous phrase heard every stop on the subway, sorry, underground. Mind the gap between the pavement and the doors. The phrase so common in London yet foreign to Americans.
I spent much of day 1 figuring out the Underground. From the fare machines not working at the airport, to making sure we were on the right platform to switch trains, to realizing that the train back to the city was not as advertised on the electronic sign above the platform.
Then there was the return trip from Trafalgar Square, where on our second train we were crowded into a car with a bunch of Italian teenagers. They might have been 20-somethings, but my perspective is shifting. I'm guessing they were Italians because the Brits traveling home at rush hour still left you a little personal space. This gang, not so much. They were fun to watch though - down one of the guys appearing to pick the other's nose through the clear plexiglass. (Makes you want to use lots of Purell, huh?) That's why I thought they were teenagers.
The trip was so much fun that my mom opted to walk an extra block or two to avoid riding one more train to our hotel.
Total for today - £15 for an all day transit card, £25 for lunch, and a few more pounds for postcards and a coke. 11,000 steps. And finally a good night's sleep.
Then it occured to me - this ubiquitous phrase heard every stop on the subway, sorry, underground. Mind the gap between the pavement and the doors. The phrase so common in London yet foreign to Americans.
I spent much of day 1 figuring out the Underground. From the fare machines not working at the airport, to making sure we were on the right platform to switch trains, to realizing that the train back to the city was not as advertised on the electronic sign above the platform.
Then there was the return trip from Trafalgar Square, where on our second train we were crowded into a car with a bunch of Italian teenagers. They might have been 20-somethings, but my perspective is shifting. I'm guessing they were Italians because the Brits traveling home at rush hour still left you a little personal space. This gang, not so much. They were fun to watch though - down one of the guys appearing to pick the other's nose through the clear plexiglass. (Makes you want to use lots of Purell, huh?) That's why I thought they were teenagers.
The trip was so much fun that my mom opted to walk an extra block or two to avoid riding one more train to our hotel.
Total for today - £15 for an all day transit card, £25 for lunch, and a few more pounds for postcards and a coke. 11,000 steps. And finally a good night's sleep.
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