Monument

This Saturday past, Shelley and I made a trip out to climb the Monument, a big, hollow, stair-filled column with a flaming orb on top. The Monument was built in the late 1600s to commemorate (the end of) the Great Fire of London, which destroyed most of the city. Some argue this should have been called the Counter-Productive Fire of London, but in the end, 'Great' won out.

The column is 202 ft high, and was built 202 ft away from the place where the fire started, at a bakers' house on Pudding Lane. From all reports, the baker was apologetic.

Still, tragedy is the mother of invention, and I think a few nifty ideas sprang from this one, the most notable perhaps being the oven-timer - though it is hotly pursued by the phrase, 'that's going to cost a lot of dough'.

Actually, I wish I could have been in London at the time of the fire to deliver a great one-liner of my own. Picture this: having just extinguished the tail-end of the blaze, the firefighters and I are sitting down to a well-earned meal. Now, taking hold of the bread basket, I lean over to a soot-covered comrade and ask, "Is it just me, or does this bread seem burnt to you?" POOF! Amidst the uproar of laughter I disappear back to the future, where, lo and behold, I find a memorial to my 'Great One-Liner' built in place of the Monument.

The Monument itself was OK; to tell the truth, it is not the tallest thing I have ever seen. When first built, of course, it was the tallest thing in London by far, but now it is fairly obscured by the surrounding buildings. Compounding this, London, though it has some nice land marks, can be quite ugly from high up.

But, it was some fun.

I Can Ride a Bike So Easily...

Today, Shelley and I rented some bikes and rode along the Thames path to Hammersmith. We had a great day, but we were both pretty wary from the outset.

Prior to this, we had ridden bikes together only once, in Amsterdam. As far as maiden voyages go that was like Kate and Leo all over again (except they acted like they loved each other as the ship went down). No, you will not find a story about this saga on the blog, as at the time it was too painful for either of us to write about.

(Shelley's preferred mode of transport in Amsterdam)

In Shelley's defense, I will attest that the bike she rode in Amsterdam was a little too big for her. Still, I was astounded to discover my wife had the bike-riding skills of a 5-year-old. She looked about as much in her element as one of those squirrels riding water-skis in a puff news piece. To compound this, I am not the most gracious and patient teacher you have ever met. In fact, I can be quite mean. Anyway, all of these factors culminated in Shelley (momentarily blessed with super-human strength) picking up her bike and hurling it against a nearby tree, amidst a Hulk-like barrage of verbal abuse. Yes, this behaviour is uncharacteristic of Shelley. Yes, I think my "teaching" style did contribute to the outburst. I do like to teach lessons.

Anyway, today was an absolute pleasure cruise in comparison. We had beautiful weather (easily the best we've had in six months) and Shelley rode with the confidence of a young tyke. Her pedals were like extensions of her legs, her eyes scanned four or five moves ahead in the traffic. Now all she needs to master is the hill start.

The Old Bailey

A few months back, Shelley and I visited the Old Bailey to view the proceedings of a murder trial. As cameras were not allowed inside the courtroom, I've had to make do with some pastel sketches. And talk about make do!

(Me at the Old Bailey.)

We felt a little awkward getting into the courts, as we were flying completely blind; there were no posters around town telling us what was showing, so we had to go in with some trepidation. When I stepped through the first security checkpoint, the guard greeted me and asked with piercing eyes, "Which proceeding are you viewing today?" I felt reluctant to say, Just whatever is good thanks, but what I ended up saying must have sounded a lot like that. He was definitely trying to psych me out - almost all attempts to psych me out work quite well.

(Piercing eyes.)

Inside the courtroom, things didn't exactly move at the speed of light. The jury came in looking bored, sat down, and started chewing gum (I guess to stay awake). At the back of the room the co-accused sat behind a wall of glass. The five of them were minded by two guards, Monsieur Fatty and Monsieur Skinny. Monsieur Fatty, who had no gum, fell asleep shortly after the court went into session.

The part of the case we viewed involved a barrister and a detective reading out a transcript of a police interview with one of the accused. It was very gripping, especially coming late into the trial, trying to work out what had gone on. Annoyingly, there was no catch-up session, but we still managed to piece it together, and by the time we had to go we'd all but solved the mystery.

I was checking out the website for the Old Bailey the other day, and look at this! They make available online all the court transcipts between 1674 and 1913. Some of it makes for really interesting reading, although a lot of people seemed to stand trial for stealing handkerchiefs.

http://www.oldbaileyonline.org/

Mud Larking

A few weekends ago Gerrod and I went mud larking (scavenging for treasure) in the Thames at Putney. It was about 7AM when we descended the boat ramp in our gum boots. The air was brisk and the was mud was laid bare, abandoned by the falling tide, undefended and helpless!

Now, we didn't find any Spanish coins or Tudor relics (I don't think Putney has the rich history of some other parts of London), but it was a lovely walk. It was a stunning morning, and if you're like me and want nothing more than to avoid the crowds, low-tide in the Thames at the break of dawn is the place to be. (There may also be other places, but this is certainly one.)


We found a few things, including a razor scooter, a cordless drill, and miniature Buddah statue (complete with price tag on the back), but sadly, nothing ancient or priceless. Perhaps Greenwich is the place to look for that stuff. Next time. But as I said, it was a lovely walk.

St Alfege's Park

This is St Alfege's Park in Greenwich (and me looking sombre about something). As you can see, the park's perimeter is completely lined with headstones. I can't tell if the headstones have always been there, or if they were just relocated there when the cemetery was converted to a park (around 1889).


The place is quaintly atmospheric, but I have to say, my strange-o-metre clicked a few times when I saw the kids' play equipment, and it went off the scale when I saw the basketball court - both completely lined with headstones.


If you build it, they will come.

Prepare for Mudlarking

It's going to happen, oh yes, it's going to happen. When the tide is low, when Mars and Jupiter align, we are going to venture out onto the mud of the Thames in search of ancient treasures (either that or syringes).

Gerrod and I went out and bought some gum boots the other day in preparation. We will probably also need some impenetrable gloves and a kitchen sieve (I'm hoping it's going to be like panning for gold).

We've got some prime loctions in mind: Deptford, Cannon St, Greenwich, and maybe even Putney. We haven't decided what day we'll do it yet (we have to go at low tide), but we'll certainly be posting our finds when we do. It's bound to be spectacular.

Buckingham Palace

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
Alice is marrying one of the guard.
"A soldier's life is terrible hard,"
                          Says Alice.

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
We saw a guard in a sentry-box.
"One of the sergeants looks after their socks,"
                          Says Alice.

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
We looked for the King, but he never came.
"Well, God take care of him, all the same,"
                          Says Alice.

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
They've great big parties inside the grounds.
"I wouldn't be King for a hundred pounds,"
                          Says Alice.

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
A face looked out, but it wasn't the King's.
"He's much too busy a-signing things,"
                          Says Alice.

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
"Do you think the King knows all about me?"
"Sure to, dear, but it's time for tea,"
                          Says Alice.

 A.A. Milne

Backdate of Blogs: Brighton

31st of May. Brighton Sunny Day.

Backdate of Blogs: Cotswolds

You've read the blog, now see it for yourself: Gerrod, Kristy, Julian and Shelley on their Cotswolds weekend 21-22 June.