Tuesday morning of my trip, Kristine and I set out from Goodenough College in leafy Bloomsbury in an attempt to catch a glimpse of Her Maj (that's Her Majesty Elizabeth II, not Her Madge, as in Mrs. Richie) arriving at Westminster Abbey for a service to commemorate the 200th anniversary of the British Parliament passing an Act to abolish the slave trade. (For more information on that topic, see the fabulous new movie "Amazing Grace" starring Welsh actor Ioan Gruffudd.)
As luck would have it, Kristine and I arrived on time to snap up a patch of concrete directly across the street from the entrance to the Abbey, mingling with TV and print journalists with big cameras and anti-glorification-of-Empire protestors (who I assume were protesting what they considered an overly white-focused celebration of the abolitionist movement in Britain. See also "Amazing Grace"... the abolition movement in Britain at the time was composed of, among many other "ordinary folk", a number of wealthy white aristos with a conscience. See William Wilberforce et al.) But I digress. I had my camera ready to snap of photo of Her Majesty arriving, when Kristine said out of the blue, "oh look, there's Tony Blair." My knees went all wobbly at the sight of celebrity when I looked up and spotted Tony and Cherie walking towards the Abbey for the service. I raised my camera lens, snapped... and then the bloody truck drove by. S***. Damn. Grr. A stupid lorry ruined my shot - see above. I snapped again and got T & C, albeit from a distance, entering the church. See photo. Cherie's wearing the grey hat; Tony is man in black next to hat-speck. Sigh.
I was determined not to let this happen when the Queen arrived. Kristine first spotted the Royal Daimler, Royal Standard flying above the car. I began snapping. More snaps. Finally the Queen and Prince Philip got out of the car. It actually took me a split second to realize that the small figure in the grey dress coat was actually the Queen. Delayed reaction. Knees still wobbly. I did, in the end, get a few snaps (see above) and all was well. The service began, and Kristine and I walked back up towards Leicester Square to grab lunch at a pub. Little did we know that during the service a prostestor, mere feet from The Queen, would create a melee. (More on that in the Times, Guardian, etc, etc.)
After lunch, Kristine headed back to her conference and I went to the National Portrait Gallery in search of Anne Boleyn. Like seeing the Mona Lisa for the first time, I was quite excited to stand in front of Queen Anne's famous portrait. (See above.) As I expected, the Gallery was all I'd ever hoped it to be. My timing was terrfic and I also got to see an exhibit of fashion photography featuring the likes of Kate Moss, etc. Enjoyed my visit immensely and picked up a few souvenirs in the gift shop. You can actually print off copies of works held in the Gallery through a computer console in the shop -- I picked up two: the famous Anne portrait, and an early portrait of Diana done by the artist Bryan Organ. It was painted just after her marriage, I think, and it brings me back to a time, I imagine, of innocence, before the world knew the truth about the whole shebang. She's little more than just-out-of-girlhood and it captivated me in a way that's hard to explain.
After walking around some more, navigating the massive crowds on Oxford Street near all the large shops (Topshop was an absolute zoo and I left, feeling claustorphobic, after a few minutes.), I went back to meet Kristine. That night we took in a movie: Becoming Jane, starring Anne Hathaway, about how Jane Austen came to be Jane Austen. Worth seeing.
Wednesday morning I took the train from Waterloo station out to Hampton Court Palace, originally built by Henry VIII's Cardinal Wolsey. Hampton Court was awesome, especially because it's out of London, and thus, it's easier to imagine it being 400 years previous, because there's no modern buildings that surround it, and cars whizzing by, like at the Tower of London, per se. It was terrific to "step back in time" and I tried to take it all in. I definitely recommend the 30 minutes train ride out to see this palace; so glad I did. Especially enjoyed the costumed tour guide, dressed in Tudor outfit, acting in character as the ill-fated Catherine Howard, fifth wife, second executed, of lecherous Henry. (Speaking of Henry, I can't wait to get my hands on a DVD copy of Showtime's new series about Henry and his ladies, "The Tudors". Pity it'll probably take a year, unless CBC agrees to snap up the rights to the show, which I think was co-produced by a Canadian.)
Wednesday afternoon I went back into the city and toured Westminster Abbey again, like I did in 1997. It's hard to imagine standing next to Elizabeth I's grave, but I did, and again, tried to take it all in. One of the reasons I love London, and England, so much, is the proximity to history, to the great men and women of the past. Few other places like the Abbey can give you that feeling.
At that point, Kristine joined me and we hit the shops: Harrods, Harvey Nicks, etc, etc. It was a longg, but good day. We stopped at the shop for snacks and then settled in to watch a few deliciously trashy episodes of Footballers Wives. All hail Jason and Tanya!
Thursday morning was my last few remaining hours in London, so Kristine and I headed off to see St. Paul's Cathedral and walk around a bit. Got a few good pics of both of us standing on the Millennium Bridge. Managed to work our way back up to Goodenough, where I grabbed my bag and feverishly headed off to Euston Station to catch my train up to Manchester to see April & Mark. More on that portion of the journey later.
