london Keyword
The Church
Religion is one of those things that really isn’t something I can discuss without the conversation getting heated or me just having to shut my trap. The mere idea of it makes me cringe. I am tolerant of those who have beliefs, and I think people should be able practise what ever religion they want as long as they keep themselves. Hell, I support Pastarfarianism, but I’ll never push the teachings of the flying spaghetti monster on anyone even if I was touched by his noodly appendage. That said, religion does have some merits. Like its role in the creation of public holidays.
Easter weekend is one of those holidays we have to thank some of the bigger groups of Invisible Cloud People followers for. It is a great weekend. Some people get chocolates, everyone gets a Holiday and as always, there’s an excuse to get rat shit maggot pissed. Which is what I did this Easter Sunday. I met up with Jessica Cullen, a friend from Perth and, with a few of her mates, we hit “The Church“.
The Church is hard to describe. For three and a half hours, every sunday, it hosts a multitude of yobbo aussies, sleazy south africans, goofy americans and smelly brits as well as a sampling from pretty much all corners of the globe for an afternoon of debauchery. This is real hedonistic stuff. Drink can only be purchased three at a time and are handed to you in a plastic bag to be easily attached to a belt. A preacher delivers a rousing speech, taking the piss out of everyone in the room. Strippers, both male and female strip right down for the heaving crowd and drinks flow into gullets faster than they can be dispensed.
While a little crazier than most night clubs I have been to, it was just like being at home. Sweaty dudes with their shirts off, chicks that couldn’t handle their drinks, the same songs you’ve heard in every pub, every weekend. Booze covered chicks and strippers is pretty much the only way you could ever get me into a Church. Pure-fucking-gold.
Attached is a gallery of the usual “Simon’s been out drinking” photos I take, most of which are of me looking pissed. Majority were taken at the Church, some at the Shepard’s Bush Walkabout later in the day. Enjoy.
Prime Meridian
In celebration of the UK entering Daylight Savings today I visited Greenwich to see the Prime Meridian. Adventuring to the southern end of London Daff and I climbed the hill to Royal Observatory and joined the masses standing on the line.
The Prime Meridian is the zero point for longitude. On one side time is GMT+11, on the other GMT+0. On one side you are standing on the western hemisphere, the other: the east. While moving from one side to the other achieves nothing in reality (unlike the international date line) it was still fun to see something that means nothing other than “zero”. Although the signage would have you believe you are at “… the center of all time and space!”
Oh and, this post also marks the return of the Odyssey Video Blog. Watch in awe as I take the Prime Meridian and make it my bitch!
Pebbles
Why haven’t I posted an update for a few days? This is something I can’t really answer. I haven’t been doing that much. I’ve had something to do each day though. Wandering around London, checking out parks, museums, galleries. I’ve caught up with old friends. Went partying with Wayno and drinking with Alicia. I’ve slept in parks, enjoying what little sunshine the UK has offer. I’ve moved house, to Kentish town, staying at Michael’s share house. Sunday was an adventure to Brighton to see the pebble beach. Something so surreal I had trouble comprehending it. People lying on the cold gravel just as they would on the warm soft sand of Australian beaches. It seemed ludicrous.
The weathers turned bad. The sun we saw last week has receeded behind rain clouds. Chill winds are whipping down the street, dragging with them freezing drizzle and driving rain. I can see why people in London get depressed this time of year. I planned to go to Madame Tussauds today, but I can’t brace myself for the weather. That, and the hot water is off here which normally isn’t a problem, but cold water here is COLD water. Stinging points of ice that shred the soul. Ain’t no way I am jumping under that shit today.
Going nowhere, fast
What is this strange attitude that runs through the British population? A twine that binds each citizen with a sense of unfounded urgency. Strangers trotting about town, frowning at their shoes, shoulders broad, pushing through the crowds alone among many. Grimacing faces rushing up and down escalators. Where are you going so fast? I’ll see you at the tube platform when I eventually get there. Your rushing achieved nothing. Do you have somewhere to be? Is it somewhere important? Do you search for a life just out of reach but fail to enjoy the one within your grasp? Why go through existence in this haste, with this frustration? Breathe. Let go. Find solace in now. You’ve missed that tube, but another rumbles but moments behind it. Do you not feel the bitter air that precedes it, blowing at your back. Stop a moment. Why push your way to be first onto the train and then frown like you don’t want to be there? Does the fluorescent flicker of the lighting gnaw at your soul, or is your anger feeding a cancer to do the job? The shine on your shoes shows a smile on your face, but it is merely a fun house mirror of leather and wax. Quick! Jump up to the doors; they will open any moment. Mind the gap. Bump past elbows as you power up the moving stairway only to wait in line at the exit. I stand behind you, patient, and watch. Your Oyster card itches to beep you through the gates. Hands. Thick, purple veins. Your stride pushes you forward. Outside now. The sky is brilliant blue, the sun shines down with glory, but you don’t see it. Your next step is all that is on your mind. Step forward and stride. Stride, stride, stride. Cheap plastic souls beating the pavement. Where are you going to? I stop and watch and gather the sun you’ve forgotten and left sparkling behind you. Do you have somewhere to be? I’ve found where that place is. It lays tossed in the wake of the life that you’re rushing through, going nowhere.
Arsenal
On Saturday Simon and his boss Tim took me to my first english football match. Arsenal versus some other lot. I think it was Blackburn. We had seats right up close to the match, not that it helped me understand what was going on at all. An early goal was the highlight of the first half, but from there the match slowed down. It wasn’t until the second half that things got exciting with Arsenal winning the match with 4 goals.
The intensity of the crowd was pretty astounding and the roar in the stadium with each goal was worth the price of admission. I didn’t have to resort to my football quotes to fit in which was handy, because I probably would have had my head smashed in if I tried any of them on. I mean really: What was Wenger thinking bringing Walcott on so early?
British Museum
The spoils of an empire, plundered from the well thumbed pages of history. That is what you’ll find at the British Museum. The massive building houses what looks like millions of artifacts that the British empire has “procured” over the course of its rule. Pieces from all over the globe are shown here. Ancient Egypt, Ancient Greece, Mesopotamia, The Incas, Central America, The Far East. Everything beautifully displayed and deftly stolen, sometimes under the guise of ‘preservation’ but most of the time just gotten in gains most ill.
I don’t condone the British Empires looting of the worlds riches but damn does it make for an interesting day out. Walking through the Library with its display cabinets full of ancient tidbits makes one feel like they are in an Indiana Jones film. Huge statues tower overhead, their mere size prompting the question: how did they get them here? Friezes that once surrounded the Parthenon now hang for tourists to ogle over, lit by spotlight and protected with nought but a thin velvet rope. Treasures from the Orient that once sat pride of place in a Japanese Palace now glitter behind finger print smudged glass cabinets. The dry and contorted body of an ancient Egyptian lays naked in an excavated grave, a bare body once hidden from the world, awaiting passage into the afterlife, now surrounded by dozens of clicking cameras, each xenon flash furthering the search for eternal life. I smiled at skulls and they smiled back at me, my reflection overlaying the cracked features; there but a few thousand years go I.
I traveled the ancient world that Friday afternoon and was home in time for a beer down at the Shakespear’s Head. Cheers to you British treasure hunters, grave robbers and tomb raiders of old. Such a fine museum you’ve made.
Cabinet War Rooms
One of the most interesting things I have seen so far in London is the Cabinet War Rooms and Churchill museum. The Museum opened in 2005, and the War Rooms in 1983 making the exhibits reasonably new. The technically brilliant and interactive museum is a delight for Churchill fans and those interested in World War II history.
The Cabinet War Rooms is a series of bunkers, originally covering nearly 3 acres, built secretly under Whitehall. Covered with a massive slab of concrete the bunkers were used as a base for all of Churchill’s wartime operations between 1938 and 1945. It included communications systems with a direct, scrambled line to the US, typing pools, sleeping quarters and kitchens supplying nurshiment for the crew stationed down in the bunker around the clock. Much of the bunker was left as it was when VE was declared.
After picking up a complimentary audio guide the tour begins with the Cabinet Conference Room where Churchill brought together his War Cabinet based on leaders from all the political parties of the time. Those working there, got up, turned off the lights and left, leaving the space as is. Continuing through the tour you see the sleeping quarters of high ranking officers and assistants to the prime minister, communications rooms, the secret room containing the direct line to the US (which was made to look like an occupied toilet) and the kitchen.
In the middle of the tour you come across the Churchill museum. Cataloguing Churchill’s life from young man to his death this in depth and very entertaining museum presents its wealth of information in the form of multimedia presentations, movies, audio, interactive exhibits and memorabilia.
The last part of the self guided tour takes you through the working areas of the bunkers. The typing pools and offices are on display giving a glimpse of what life was like in the bunker. Perhaps the most interesting room was the map room, where all the movements and details of units and advances were tracked. Again, left as it was when everyone left this room is an amazing look at wartime history.
I spent hours wandering the museum and warrooms, and for around 16 quid, including a guide book, it was a great, cheap day out.
London – innit!
For those keeping track, I’ve been in London a few days now, but I’ve been too busy and too sick to put up a post.
The flight here was fairly uneventful, apart from getting lost on the trains in Tokyo on the way to Narita and I arrived at about 5pm London time. I met my mate Simon at Covent Garden where I stupidly decided to take the stairs up from the underground. We’re talking nearly 200 steps, in spiral staircase fashion, and by the end of my power climb I felt like puking.
Simon and I had dinner at a local turkish seafood place, and back at his place I passed out on the air matress he had for me in the lounge. The next morning feeling refreshed I headed out to see London.
I walked a lot on Wednesday. Basically circling the center of London twice I took in the London Eye, Houses of Parliament, Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, 10 Downing Street, Trafalga Square, the National Gallery, the Thames, the Tower of London, the Tower Bridge, the Gherkin, St Paul’s Cathedral and everything in between. It was a packed day. Thursday saw me stay in sick with the flu.
I am liking London. It’s a pretty cool place from what I have seen so far. So much history. Beautiful Architecture. The next few weeks will see if it really works its charms on me.