Every trip made to Europe is like a pilgrim to a holy land.
Our pilgrimage to Britain consists of 16 days (May 19th to June 3rd, 2005), mainly staying in London and several day trips out of London. We did not make too many day trips nor venture too far away from London since there were quite enough interests in the city to engage us.
To put our activities into categories: we visited museums, art galleries, churches, castles, universities, historical landmarks, parks and gardens, and theaters.
Unlike our first trip to Europe back in 2001 when we were so overwhelmed by everything we saw there, this time we were more prepared and seasoned travelers who were able to take it in slowly and appreciate it more thoroughly. But still we were amazed at what we saw and would have exhausted our limited vocabulary describing the grandiose and beauty the city can offer.
Besides sightseeing we also experienced what ordinary Londoners would do in their daily life, thanks to our friends who made everything so smooth for us. We went about the city by tube (for subways), buses and on foot, buying groceries on the way back home every day and cooking meals in the small kitchen in our flat (for apartment) and taking the train out of the city and strolling in the parks, so far and so forth.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Monday, June 27, 2005
London Trip (2) -- A Glimpse of Daily Life
London is an expensive city but life is very convenient and enjoyable as long as you have means.
After we buzzed and were let into the building, we were greeted at the lift (elevator) by our beloved smiling professor who was very instrumental in planning our trip. He and our landlady, a friend of his, showed us the flat where we were staying, which was across the hall from hers. It was a one bedroom flat with a living room, a dining area, a small kitchen, a bathroom equipped with a shower over the bathtub, and a balcony. It is very similar to IU's family housing apartments on campus.
Even before entering the flat our professor began to apologize for the condition of the flat, but to us it looked very decent. We were so relieved to find there was a bathroom in the flat, because we heard in a lot of older buildings the bathrooms and showers are shared between the floors. In those B & B hotels the bathrooms are not provided in the room either.
Later we learned that a flat like this in London would cost as much as over half a million dollars or more . Anyway we were not house hunting in UK, but it won't hurt to offer some sympathetic remarks and at meantime congratulate ourselves secretly on our good luck being living comfortably on the other side the ocean.
After we settled in the professor showed us around the vicinity. He took us to the tube station which was 5 minutes walk and explained to us what kind of pass we should purchase. Then he led us to the neighborhood grocery stores. There were two within 1 to 3 minutes walk from our building. We could find numerous restaurants, sandwich shops, bars, cafes, bake houses (French style) on our street. According to the professor the ratio of them to human population in the area is 1 to 1.2.
Taking advantage of this convenience we would never worry about going hungry. Everyday we came back from sightseeing we would stop by the shop to buy what we needed. The fresh produce has more taste, The processed ones are less salty and less sweet than American food. We really had a feast on French breads and cakes, tarts, etc. The sweets are neither too sweet nor greasy. They are just right for our taste buds.
Actually a lot of things are small in size. The tomatoes, of course not the cherry tomatoes, are just as big as walnuts; apples are only half size of what we have in US, or even smaller. The largest milk jar is like our half a gallon one.
The people on the streets and tubes are very pleasing to look at: well dressed males in tires, busy talking into their cell phones; slender females, fashionably dressed, hurrying along with shopping bags. While every thing is getting super size in the US, people are getting out of shape and obesity has become a national plague to American population, on the other side of Atlantic people still look like what human beings should be, at least to me. The answer seems too simple. I just don't understand why Americans are so blind, why don't they just look to the other shore where the cure lies.
After we buzzed and were let into the building, we were greeted at the lift (elevator) by our beloved smiling professor who was very instrumental in planning our trip. He and our landlady, a friend of his, showed us the flat where we were staying, which was across the hall from hers. It was a one bedroom flat with a living room, a dining area, a small kitchen, a bathroom equipped with a shower over the bathtub, and a balcony. It is very similar to IU's family housing apartments on campus.
Even before entering the flat our professor began to apologize for the condition of the flat, but to us it looked very decent. We were so relieved to find there was a bathroom in the flat, because we heard in a lot of older buildings the bathrooms and showers are shared between the floors. In those B & B hotels the bathrooms are not provided in the room either.
Later we learned that a flat like this in London would cost as much as over half a million dollars or more . Anyway we were not house hunting in UK, but it won't hurt to offer some sympathetic remarks and at meantime congratulate ourselves secretly on our good luck being living comfortably on the other side the ocean.
After we settled in the professor showed us around the vicinity. He took us to the tube station which was 5 minutes walk and explained to us what kind of pass we should purchase. Then he led us to the neighborhood grocery stores. There were two within 1 to 3 minutes walk from our building. We could find numerous restaurants, sandwich shops, bars, cafes, bake houses (French style) on our street. According to the professor the ratio of them to human population in the area is 1 to 1.2.
Taking advantage of this convenience we would never worry about going hungry. Everyday we came back from sightseeing we would stop by the shop to buy what we needed. The fresh produce has more taste, The processed ones are less salty and less sweet than American food. We really had a feast on French breads and cakes, tarts, etc. The sweets are neither too sweet nor greasy. They are just right for our taste buds.
Actually a lot of things are small in size. The tomatoes, of course not the cherry tomatoes, are just as big as walnuts; apples are only half size of what we have in US, or even smaller. The largest milk jar is like our half a gallon one.
The people on the streets and tubes are very pleasing to look at: well dressed males in tires, busy talking into their cell phones; slender females, fashionably dressed, hurrying along with shopping bags. While every thing is getting super size in the US, people are getting out of shape and obesity has become a national plague to American population, on the other side of Atlantic people still look like what human beings should be, at least to me. The answer seems too simple. I just don't understand why Americans are so blind, why don't they just look to the other shore where the cure lies.
Sunday, June 26, 2005
London Trip (3) -- A Visit to Cambridge
轻轻的我走了，正如我轻轻的来，我轻轻的招手，作别西天的云彩“
Cambridge, immortally romanticized in Xu Zhimo’s “再别康桥”, had beckoned me from afar ever since I first read the poem. Of course it became our first destination outside London on May 22nd, 2005. We caught a 9:00 a.m. train from King’s Cross Station Platform 9A (if you are familiar with Harry Potter book series you might recognize this station where he and his friends would board the train to go back to school at Platform 9 3/4).
In about one hour we arrived at Cambridge and took a bus to the center of the town. We were just in time for a two hour guided tour of the University. It was in the middle of its 3rd term or Easter Term (three terms in one academic year) so all the colleges were closed to visitors. We were just allowed to peek through their half closed gates into the courtyards of world famous Trinity College, King’s College and etc.
The tour guide was very proud of the long history of Cambridge (will be its 800th anniversary in 2009) and of the number of world famous scholars it had produce. Of them Sir Isaac Newton and Lord Byron are the most prominent. The legend has it that Byron kept a lion as a pet and whenever he got drunk he would jumped into the spring in the middle of Trinity College’s courtyard, naked, and bathed with his lion. It was also in this courtyard the race took place to see who could run the fastest during one of Cambridge students society competitions as depicted in 1981 Oscar winning movie, “ Chariots of Fire”. When being asked if we had seen the movie we were the only few who had. We were of course chuckled when we were shown to the apple tree under which Newton discovered the Law of Gravity. The tour concluded itself at the King’s College’s Chapel.
Church visit made a considerable part of our trip in Europe and yet, it was in Cambridge where we acquired a taste of sitting in their evensong service. That was after we had punted on the River Cam and visited university's the Fitzwilliam Museum.
The highlight of the day might be punting on the Cam. To read a little bit of punt history only did I know this practice began at the turn of last century. It used to be a stink river and crowed with barges and trading boats. In Xu Zhimo’s time punting must have been a budding business but he had given it a most romantic appeal.
“那河畔的金柳是夕阳中的新娘, 波光里的艳影在我心中荡漾…”
A lot of Cambridge students made money by punting for tourists at a rate of £20 for an hour. If you were brave enough you could rent a boat and punt yourself. It was only £8. We were among those who had more confidence in our ability for anything once we set our mind to it. At least Chang was very determined to punt for us. For the next hour my heart was alsmost in my throat but I had to remain calm as our boat was circling in the river instead of going forward. When Jian took charge our boat was once dashing straight to the bank and we had to duck our heads to avoid the weeping willows. Thanks God we finally managed to get back ashore safe and sound.
After the adventure we found ourselves wondering in the university Fitzwilliam Museum. It boasts of "one of the greatest art collection of the nation and a monument of the first importance". It houses antiquities from Acient Near Eeat, Greece, Rome and Cyprus, medieval manuscripts of highest quality, Korean ceremecs, and masterpieces paintings and drawing from Dutch, Flemish and British artists.We had to admit the museum is an indicator of how wealthy of the Univerty has been. The size and quality of its collection speaks for itself.
To attend evensong service was a serious business. We had to wait at the gate of one of college's churches for its 6:30 Evensongs. A short while after we were let in and sat down at the pew, the church staff and choir members in red robes paraded into the church. The ceremony proceeded in the order of praying, singing, more praying, singing, sermons, and then praying and singing. All this time Jian and I were very attentive, enjoyed the beautiful singing and listened with all our ears to the sermon; somehow, Chang, had been putting too much energy into steering the boat and absorbing herself with too many antiquities and masterpieces in the musuem early in the day, could not keep her eyes open. Her head nodded in rhythm with the sermon and songs, which were very inspiring and soothing at the same time.
After the service we headed directly to the train station. There had been a few showers earlier, now the sky cleared and sun was not yet set. Most of the tourists had left and the town, busked in the setting sun, was shrouded in a tranquilized beauty. As a climax of our journey, two rainbows appeared in the western sky. We waved farewell to Cambridge and bid goodbye to the western sky. We could not take the rosy clouds with us but did come away with some pictures.
“悄悄的我走了正如我悄悄的来; 我挥一挥衣袖不带走一片云彩.”
Cambridge, immortally romanticized in Xu Zhimo’s “再别康桥”, had beckoned me from afar ever since I first read the poem. Of course it became our first destination outside London on May 22nd, 2005. We caught a 9:00 a.m. train from King’s Cross Station Platform 9A (if you are familiar with Harry Potter book series you might recognize this station where he and his friends would board the train to go back to school at Platform 9 3/4).
In about one hour we arrived at Cambridge and took a bus to the center of the town. We were just in time for a two hour guided tour of the University. It was in the middle of its 3rd term or Easter Term (three terms in one academic year) so all the colleges were closed to visitors. We were just allowed to peek through their half closed gates into the courtyards of world famous Trinity College, King’s College and etc.
The tour guide was very proud of the long history of Cambridge (will be its 800th anniversary in 2009) and of the number of world famous scholars it had produce. Of them Sir Isaac Newton and Lord Byron are the most prominent. The legend has it that Byron kept a lion as a pet and whenever he got drunk he would jumped into the spring in the middle of Trinity College’s courtyard, naked, and bathed with his lion. It was also in this courtyard the race took place to see who could run the fastest during one of Cambridge students society competitions as depicted in 1981 Oscar winning movie, “ Chariots of Fire”. When being asked if we had seen the movie we were the only few who had. We were of course chuckled when we were shown to the apple tree under which Newton discovered the Law of Gravity. The tour concluded itself at the King’s College’s Chapel.
Church visit made a considerable part of our trip in Europe and yet, it was in Cambridge where we acquired a taste of sitting in their evensong service. That was after we had punted on the River Cam and visited university's the Fitzwilliam Museum.
The highlight of the day might be punting on the Cam. To read a little bit of punt history only did I know this practice began at the turn of last century. It used to be a stink river and crowed with barges and trading boats. In Xu Zhimo’s time punting must have been a budding business but he had given it a most romantic appeal.
“那河畔的金柳是夕阳中的新娘, 波光里的艳影在我心中荡漾…”
A lot of Cambridge students made money by punting for tourists at a rate of £20 for an hour. If you were brave enough you could rent a boat and punt yourself. It was only £8. We were among those who had more confidence in our ability for anything once we set our mind to it. At least Chang was very determined to punt for us. For the next hour my heart was alsmost in my throat but I had to remain calm as our boat was circling in the river instead of going forward. When Jian took charge our boat was once dashing straight to the bank and we had to duck our heads to avoid the weeping willows. Thanks God we finally managed to get back ashore safe and sound.
After the adventure we found ourselves wondering in the university Fitzwilliam Museum. It boasts of "one of the greatest art collection of the nation and a monument of the first importance". It houses antiquities from Acient Near Eeat, Greece, Rome and Cyprus, medieval manuscripts of highest quality, Korean ceremecs, and masterpieces paintings and drawing from Dutch, Flemish and British artists.We had to admit the museum is an indicator of how wealthy of the Univerty has been. The size and quality of its collection speaks for itself.
To attend evensong service was a serious business. We had to wait at the gate of one of college's churches for its 6:30 Evensongs. A short while after we were let in and sat down at the pew, the church staff and choir members in red robes paraded into the church. The ceremony proceeded in the order of praying, singing, more praying, singing, sermons, and then praying and singing. All this time Jian and I were very attentive, enjoyed the beautiful singing and listened with all our ears to the sermon; somehow, Chang, had been putting too much energy into steering the boat and absorbing herself with too many antiquities and masterpieces in the musuem early in the day, could not keep her eyes open. Her head nodded in rhythm with the sermon and songs, which were very inspiring and soothing at the same time.
After the service we headed directly to the train station. There had been a few showers earlier, now the sky cleared and sun was not yet set. Most of the tourists had left and the town, busked in the setting sun, was shrouded in a tranquilized beauty. As a climax of our journey, two rainbows appeared in the western sky. We waved farewell to Cambridge and bid goodbye to the western sky. We could not take the rosy clouds with us but did come away with some pictures.
“悄悄的我走了正如我悄悄的来; 我挥一挥衣袖不带走一片云彩.”
Saturday, June 25, 2005
London Trip (4) -- Tastes of Shakespeare
The London taxi driver did not like Shakespeare
After we got off the train at Victoria Station we found ourselves sitting comfortably in one of London black taxis. Jian said to me in a low voice: "The London taxi drivers are said to be very talkative. Let me give it a try". He immediately struck up a conversation. It turned out the taxi driver was a very amiable and humorous guy. He asked where we came from and how long we were staying in London. After hearing we would stay for fifteen days he exclaimed: "Fifteen days? That is too long. What are you going to do in London? Last time I went to Disneyland and stayed for two weeks. It was too short".
"There will be a lot to do and see here. You have so many world famous museums, historical buildings, and you have Shakespeare", Jian retorted, "We want to see Shakespeare plays in the Globe".
Upon this he sighed: "Shakespeare? Yes, we have Shakespeare. But Shakespeare makes me sleepy. If you really want to see performance, go to see Billy Eliot, the new musical. It is not cheap and I already got a £50 ticket. It is something that depicts the life of ours. But if you like Shakespeare, go to see it." He really sounded that he could not stop us but could care less.
It would have made the taxi drive sigh again. We did go to see Shakespeare, not only once but twice and we really fell asleep the first time.
The second day after we arrived, we went to visit British Museum. We had not recovered from the fatigue of the flight and were still feeling a little sleepy from the jet lag. But returning to the flat in the afternoon we found a note tucked under the door from our dear professor, who cordially invited us to go to a play with him that night. The play only ran for a week and it was Friday already. We hurriedly finished our dinner and rushed to the tube station. The theater was at Richmond, the last stop southwest of London on its tube line. The ride was longer than we had thought, involving changing trains twice. As a result we arrived at the theater at least 15 minutes into the play.
After being led to our seats we were immediately drawn into what was happening on the stage. It was one of Shakespeares tragicomic romances, called The Winter's Tale, with a cast of all male performers. (This is even more true to Shakespearean time. Females were not supposed to be performing on stage as you have seen in the movie "Shakespeare in Love")
Anyway, the jealous husband or the king in the play was raving about his wife's supposed infidelity. He really reminded me of King Lear, another character of Shakespeare, who reacted to something with such a vehemence and madness for no reason at all. Pretty soon the play came to its darkest moment: the accused wife gave birth to a girl and was put into prison and later reported dead. The girl, thought to be illegitimate by the father, was ordered to abandon to a faraway place. With all the tension on the stage Jian and I could not help but doze off among all these tragic events. Then suddenly, I did not know how much time had elapsed; we were jotted out of our slumber. As the story on the stage went, sixteen years had passed; the mood changed, with spring in the air, music playing, and people dancing. We were then wild awake. The remainder of the play was really enjoyable. The lost daughter was finally reunited with her father. Even the presumed dead mother was rejuvenated and brought back to life. What was more; all male actors were very convincing in their roles, male or female.
By the time we left the theater everyone was smiling, and yet very content with the outcome of the happy ending. The professor apologized to us again and again for dragging us to see the play with him as we were still in the state of jet lag. But we told him we really enjoyed it, even though only half of it. Chang, young and more energetic, was not afflicted by any of these inconveniences. She saw the whole play and was urged to ask questions by the professor as a reward.
This went our first encounter with Shakespeare in London. The second time we really enjoyed it from beginning to the end. It was a sunny and warm day when we realized our dream to see a play in the Shakespeares Globe. It is supposed to see the play in the Globe when the weather is nice since the stage is in the open and any bad weather might call off the performance.
It was a matinee on a sunny Thursday afternoon. We started the day by going to Westminster Abby in the morning, which was close enough for us to catch the play in the afternoon. By the time we arrived at the gate an old man flashed a deck of tickets at us and asked if we'd like to have standing tickets. "They just cost £5 each but the play is three and half hours long", he added. We were immediately chickened out and bought three £18 seating tickets.
The Globe, as its name suggested, was a spherical structure with roofed seats on three sides and a thrust stage facing the audience on one side. The theater was not filled to its full capacity but the size of audience was impressive. Apparently a lot of people bought standing tickets. The pit in front of the stage was full of people, some sitting on the ground, some standing there with arms folded and some leaning against the stage. Some of them wore paper caps on their heads. They were handed out to them since they would be in the sun for more than three hours. Quite a few people, just like us, bought the seating tickets. We, sitting under the roof, were well protected from the sun. To give the audience a taste of what people at Shakespearean time would have experienced all the seats were wood benches with no back support or comfortable cushions. But for £3 you could rent a cushion.
I noticed that the staff, who ushered us to the seats, handed out the caps and rented out the cushions, was elders. They were like those retired grandmas and grandpas you would find in China, who volunteer at community centers or collect fees at bike parking lots.
Pericles, Prince of the Tyre, was what we saw that afternoon. It was another Shakespeare's tragicomic romance. It, like the first one we saw, was both ranked as his minor works. But the staging and performance were nothing but first rate. Most cast members were young and had acrobatic training apparently. As the plot required several scenes of shipwreck they acted them out by climbing onto the ropes, dangling from the ladders, clinging to the rails of the balcony. With the help of sound effects and their agility they really conveyed the danger of treacherous seas. The actor as the old king did not perform any acrobatic tricks, but he portrayed a very convincing character. He was so tormented by his losses that the look of terror and lament was very detectable on his face and in his eyes whenever the story required. Pericles, same as The Winter's Tale, told an old wife's tale, but the actors/actresses made it come alive and quite enjoyable. Our hearts pounded when we sensed imminent danger and pained when we saw the old king suffer. Of course we were also rejoiced when finally a happy ending concluded the play.
There was an old usher in his late 60s, who just stood across from where I was seating. Throughout the play he was standing at the same spot and watching attentively everything on the stage, smiling when it was funny and becoming solemn when something grave was going to happen. I could not help but notice his presence and marvel at his sincerity. He might have seen the play many times since he worked there but he looked like a first timer and truly enjoyed it. While Shakespeare would make our taxi driver fall asleep, he has certainly brought a lot of joy to people like the old chap. I was so moved and glad to find kindred spirits there.
After we got off the train at Victoria Station we found ourselves sitting comfortably in one of London black taxis. Jian said to me in a low voice: "The London taxi drivers are said to be very talkative. Let me give it a try". He immediately struck up a conversation. It turned out the taxi driver was a very amiable and humorous guy. He asked where we came from and how long we were staying in London. After hearing we would stay for fifteen days he exclaimed: "Fifteen days? That is too long. What are you going to do in London? Last time I went to Disneyland and stayed for two weeks. It was too short".
"There will be a lot to do and see here. You have so many world famous museums, historical buildings, and you have Shakespeare", Jian retorted, "We want to see Shakespeare plays in the Globe".
Upon this he sighed: "Shakespeare? Yes, we have Shakespeare. But Shakespeare makes me sleepy. If you really want to see performance, go to see Billy Eliot, the new musical. It is not cheap and I already got a £50 ticket. It is something that depicts the life of ours. But if you like Shakespeare, go to see it." He really sounded that he could not stop us but could care less.
It would have made the taxi drive sigh again. We did go to see Shakespeare, not only once but twice and we really fell asleep the first time.
The second day after we arrived, we went to visit British Museum. We had not recovered from the fatigue of the flight and were still feeling a little sleepy from the jet lag. But returning to the flat in the afternoon we found a note tucked under the door from our dear professor, who cordially invited us to go to a play with him that night. The play only ran for a week and it was Friday already. We hurriedly finished our dinner and rushed to the tube station. The theater was at Richmond, the last stop southwest of London on its tube line. The ride was longer than we had thought, involving changing trains twice. As a result we arrived at the theater at least 15 minutes into the play.
After being led to our seats we were immediately drawn into what was happening on the stage. It was one of Shakespeares tragicomic romances, called The Winter's Tale, with a cast of all male performers. (This is even more true to Shakespearean time. Females were not supposed to be performing on stage as you have seen in the movie "Shakespeare in Love")
Anyway, the jealous husband or the king in the play was raving about his wife's supposed infidelity. He really reminded me of King Lear, another character of Shakespeare, who reacted to something with such a vehemence and madness for no reason at all. Pretty soon the play came to its darkest moment: the accused wife gave birth to a girl and was put into prison and later reported dead. The girl, thought to be illegitimate by the father, was ordered to abandon to a faraway place. With all the tension on the stage Jian and I could not help but doze off among all these tragic events. Then suddenly, I did not know how much time had elapsed; we were jotted out of our slumber. As the story on the stage went, sixteen years had passed; the mood changed, with spring in the air, music playing, and people dancing. We were then wild awake. The remainder of the play was really enjoyable. The lost daughter was finally reunited with her father. Even the presumed dead mother was rejuvenated and brought back to life. What was more; all male actors were very convincing in their roles, male or female.
By the time we left the theater everyone was smiling, and yet very content with the outcome of the happy ending. The professor apologized to us again and again for dragging us to see the play with him as we were still in the state of jet lag. But we told him we really enjoyed it, even though only half of it. Chang, young and more energetic, was not afflicted by any of these inconveniences. She saw the whole play and was urged to ask questions by the professor as a reward.
This went our first encounter with Shakespeare in London. The second time we really enjoyed it from beginning to the end. It was a sunny and warm day when we realized our dream to see a play in the Shakespeares Globe. It is supposed to see the play in the Globe when the weather is nice since the stage is in the open and any bad weather might call off the performance.
It was a matinee on a sunny Thursday afternoon. We started the day by going to Westminster Abby in the morning, which was close enough for us to catch the play in the afternoon. By the time we arrived at the gate an old man flashed a deck of tickets at us and asked if we'd like to have standing tickets. "They just cost £5 each but the play is three and half hours long", he added. We were immediately chickened out and bought three £18 seating tickets.
The Globe, as its name suggested, was a spherical structure with roofed seats on three sides and a thrust stage facing the audience on one side. The theater was not filled to its full capacity but the size of audience was impressive. Apparently a lot of people bought standing tickets. The pit in front of the stage was full of people, some sitting on the ground, some standing there with arms folded and some leaning against the stage. Some of them wore paper caps on their heads. They were handed out to them since they would be in the sun for more than three hours. Quite a few people, just like us, bought the seating tickets. We, sitting under the roof, were well protected from the sun. To give the audience a taste of what people at Shakespearean time would have experienced all the seats were wood benches with no back support or comfortable cushions. But for £3 you could rent a cushion.
I noticed that the staff, who ushered us to the seats, handed out the caps and rented out the cushions, was elders. They were like those retired grandmas and grandpas you would find in China, who volunteer at community centers or collect fees at bike parking lots.
Pericles, Prince of the Tyre, was what we saw that afternoon. It was another Shakespeare's tragicomic romance. It, like the first one we saw, was both ranked as his minor works. But the staging and performance were nothing but first rate. Most cast members were young and had acrobatic training apparently. As the plot required several scenes of shipwreck they acted them out by climbing onto the ropes, dangling from the ladders, clinging to the rails of the balcony. With the help of sound effects and their agility they really conveyed the danger of treacherous seas. The actor as the old king did not perform any acrobatic tricks, but he portrayed a very convincing character. He was so tormented by his losses that the look of terror and lament was very detectable on his face and in his eyes whenever the story required. Pericles, same as The Winter's Tale, told an old wife's tale, but the actors/actresses made it come alive and quite enjoyable. Our hearts pounded when we sensed imminent danger and pained when we saw the old king suffer. Of course we were also rejoiced when finally a happy ending concluded the play.
There was an old usher in his late 60s, who just stood across from where I was seating. Throughout the play he was standing at the same spot and watching attentively everything on the stage, smiling when it was funny and becoming solemn when something grave was going to happen. I could not help but notice his presence and marvel at his sincerity. He might have seen the play many times since he worked there but he looked like a first timer and truly enjoyed it. While Shakespeare would make our taxi driver fall asleep, he has certainly brought a lot of joy to people like the old chap. I was so moved and glad to find kindred spirits there.
Friday, June 24, 2005
London Trip (5) -- AT Kew Gardens
We stumbled into Gardens of Glass and Greenhouses of exotic plants.
“Let's go to Kew Gardens tomorrow,” Jian announced after supper. He had taken on the responsibility of planning our daily trip, at which he had done a very good job. The weather was very promising. We were fed up with the first week in London, cool and rainy. Now it was going to be a fine day for outing on May 27th, 2005.
Occupying 300 acres of land and collecting over 40,000 plants from all over the world, Kew Gardens is one of the greatest public gardens in Britain and possibly in the world. Listed as world heritage sites by UNESCO in 2003, its history can be dated back to 1759. But what made it even more exciting for us was Dale Chihuly’s exhibition (May 28, 2005 -- January 15 2006) ready to open in Kew Gardens.
It turned out we made a good choice to take advantage of fine weather and smaller crowd before the opening ceremony of the exhibition. Still there were quite a few visitors. We had to queue up (stand in line) at the Victoria Gate to buy tickets. As soon as we stepped into the garden gate we were immediately drawn to a lake dotted with colorful glass bubbles and many different kinds of waterbirds swimming among them. Our camera captured a few of them resting on the shore such as white beak coots and red-billed moorhens. The most attractive was a boatload of glassworks, called Thames Skiff glittering in the sunshine.
Never before had we encountered such a wonder, we lost no time capturing the spectacle with our camera. Jian took pictures, one after another, of the lake from different angles. But we had to move on. What was in store for us inside the hot and humid Palm House and The Princess of Wales Conservatory was more exciting. The Palm House “creates conditions similar to tropical rainforest and collects about a quarter of the palms that are threatened in the wild. They are the ‘living fossils’ of the tropics”. Besides palm trees there were big bamboos. I learned that bamboos belong to grass family and are giants in the family. They can grow as tall as 35 meters. Jade Vine is one of the most beautiful and elegant of all tropic vines and it is kin to the peas and beans that we devour every day. Among so many exotic plants and flowers Chihuly’s glassworks sometimes quietly faded into the backgrounds and other times strikingly stood out. We were even confused by what was real and what was fake. In The Princess of Wales Conservatory we experienced ten different climatic zones all computer-controlled under one roof, from Wet Tropics Zone to Seasonally Dry Zone. We saw the giant Amazonian water lily and yellow, purple and red desert flowers.
It was hard to tear ourselves away from all these exotic plants and flowers but the humidity inside was too much to bear. When Jian had taken enough pictures we made our way to the Pagoda along Pagoda Vista. This Chinese Pagoda was built in the 18th century. The ten-storey and 163 ft high octagonal structure was, at that time, the most accurate reconstruction of a Chinese building in Europe. It is said the roof was originally covered with iron plates with a dragon on each edge, each dragon being covered in colored glass. There were 80 dragons in all. But its glory faded with iron plates replaced by slate and dragons vanished, allegedly sold to pay off some of King George IV's debts. Legend also has it, as mentioned in Zhu Ziqing (朱自清)’s “公园” when he described fondly of London parks and gardens in his travelogue, that there was a Confucius temple on the roof of Kew Gardens Pagoda (邱园宝塔). He did not see the temple at that time nor were we seeing any dragons now. The pagoda lacked its former glamour but still stood there, elegant and lofty.
After Pagoda, we came upon a pond. Exhausted from heat and long walk we took refuge under the trees by the pond. No sooner had we sit down our attention was drawn to several peacocks coming over, begging for food. They were very aggressive creatures. Tired of being fed piece by piece they just grabbed bread crumbs with the long beaks from Chang’s fingertips. She was really stunned by a bold female peacock when she bit on her fingers.
By the water edge two girls were sitting, their bodies leaned towards each other and their heads were bent over, quite absorbed in something interesting. The sunrays filtered through the leaves and cast shadows on their backs and over the pond. Ripples were expanding into clusters of water lilies. It was so tranquilizing that it reminded me of an impressionist painting. Virginia Woolf once turned her exquisite eyes towards Kew Gardens and wrote a short piece, in which she depicted several couples taking strolls among the flower beds. They were so much enshrouded with the surroundings, while the summer roses stirred by gentle breeze generating different colors, red, blue and yellow like tiny lights dancing on “the vase green spaces beneath the dome of the heart-shaped and tongue-shaped leaves”. As if under a magic spell they lost themselves in their thoughts, memories and dreams. They just melted into the air, the trees, the grass and the flower beds.
We tried to lose ourselve for a while but had to gather ourselves up and made our way back when dusk began to descend.
“Let's go to Kew Gardens tomorrow,” Jian announced after supper. He had taken on the responsibility of planning our daily trip, at which he had done a very good job. The weather was very promising. We were fed up with the first week in London, cool and rainy. Now it was going to be a fine day for outing on May 27th, 2005.
Occupying 300 acres of land and collecting over 40,000 plants from all over the world, Kew Gardens is one of the greatest public gardens in Britain and possibly in the world. Listed as world heritage sites by UNESCO in 2003, its history can be dated back to 1759. But what made it even more exciting for us was Dale Chihuly’s exhibition (May 28, 2005 -- January 15 2006) ready to open in Kew Gardens.
It turned out we made a good choice to take advantage of fine weather and smaller crowd before the opening ceremony of the exhibition. Still there were quite a few visitors. We had to queue up (stand in line) at the Victoria Gate to buy tickets. As soon as we stepped into the garden gate we were immediately drawn to a lake dotted with colorful glass bubbles and many different kinds of waterbirds swimming among them. Our camera captured a few of them resting on the shore such as white beak coots and red-billed moorhens. The most attractive was a boatload of glassworks, called Thames Skiff glittering in the sunshine.
Never before had we encountered such a wonder, we lost no time capturing the spectacle with our camera. Jian took pictures, one after another, of the lake from different angles. But we had to move on. What was in store for us inside the hot and humid Palm House and The Princess of Wales Conservatory was more exciting. The Palm House “creates conditions similar to tropical rainforest and collects about a quarter of the palms that are threatened in the wild. They are the ‘living fossils’ of the tropics”. Besides palm trees there were big bamboos. I learned that bamboos belong to grass family and are giants in the family. They can grow as tall as 35 meters. Jade Vine is one of the most beautiful and elegant of all tropic vines and it is kin to the peas and beans that we devour every day. Among so many exotic plants and flowers Chihuly’s glassworks sometimes quietly faded into the backgrounds and other times strikingly stood out. We were even confused by what was real and what was fake. In The Princess of Wales Conservatory we experienced ten different climatic zones all computer-controlled under one roof, from Wet Tropics Zone to Seasonally Dry Zone. We saw the giant Amazonian water lily and yellow, purple and red desert flowers.
It was hard to tear ourselves away from all these exotic plants and flowers but the humidity inside was too much to bear. When Jian had taken enough pictures we made our way to the Pagoda along Pagoda Vista. This Chinese Pagoda was built in the 18th century. The ten-storey and 163 ft high octagonal structure was, at that time, the most accurate reconstruction of a Chinese building in Europe. It is said the roof was originally covered with iron plates with a dragon on each edge, each dragon being covered in colored glass. There were 80 dragons in all. But its glory faded with iron plates replaced by slate and dragons vanished, allegedly sold to pay off some of King George IV's debts. Legend also has it, as mentioned in Zhu Ziqing (朱自清)’s “公园” when he described fondly of London parks and gardens in his travelogue, that there was a Confucius temple on the roof of Kew Gardens Pagoda (邱园宝塔). He did not see the temple at that time nor were we seeing any dragons now. The pagoda lacked its former glamour but still stood there, elegant and lofty.
After Pagoda, we came upon a pond. Exhausted from heat and long walk we took refuge under the trees by the pond. No sooner had we sit down our attention was drawn to several peacocks coming over, begging for food. They were very aggressive creatures. Tired of being fed piece by piece they just grabbed bread crumbs with the long beaks from Chang’s fingertips. She was really stunned by a bold female peacock when she bit on her fingers.
By the water edge two girls were sitting, their bodies leaned towards each other and their heads were bent over, quite absorbed in something interesting. The sunrays filtered through the leaves and cast shadows on their backs and over the pond. Ripples were expanding into clusters of water lilies. It was so tranquilizing that it reminded me of an impressionist painting. Virginia Woolf once turned her exquisite eyes towards Kew Gardens and wrote a short piece, in which she depicted several couples taking strolls among the flower beds. They were so much enshrouded with the surroundings, while the summer roses stirred by gentle breeze generating different colors, red, blue and yellow like tiny lights dancing on “the vase green spaces beneath the dome of the heart-shaped and tongue-shaped leaves”. As if under a magic spell they lost themselves in their thoughts, memories and dreams. They just melted into the air, the trees, the grass and the flower beds.
We tried to lose ourselve for a while but had to gather ourselves up and made our way back when dusk began to descend.
Thursday, June 23, 2005
London Trip (6) -- To See Marx
We could not go home without paying respect to Karl Marx.
The day before we bid good bye to London we finally got a chance to visit Highgate Cemetery where Karl Marx was laid to rest. It had been on our agenda from day one but had been postphoned. It was not because we did not priotize it, we just saved the best for the last :-)
Our professor friend had lived some years ago in Hempstead, which is very close to Highgate Cemetery. During that period he and his wife often visited Highgate Cemetery and would hide in the bush nearby Marx's tomb, watching visitors bowing before it. They would count the number of people coming by. To his surprise he found lots of Chinese but few Russians.
Our pilgrimage would not be complete without paying homage to Marx. We assured the professor that we would definitely visit Highgate Cemetery. On that day we first did some other sightseeing before heading for the cemetery. There was some distance between the tube station where we got off and the cemetery at Highgate Hill. It proved to be worthy of its name. It was quite a long uphill walk. Reaching the top of the hill we turned left and walked through a community park called Waterlow Park. We found both names make sense. Once the ground is high the water must be low.
At the gate to the cemetery a guy greeted us with a smile: “See Marx?” We were quite amused at his assumption and asked him: “Must there be a lot of Chinese coming here?” “Yeah, many. A lot of them from Chinese Embassy” he replied.
After paying our entrance fee and charge for taking pictures we set off in search of the tomb of the father of communism. We first wandered off to a small path but retrieved our steps after realizing it was not the right one.
It was an overcast morning and we could feel a little chill in the air. The cemetery was overgrown with trees and bushes. Some tomb stones were slanted, obviously having been neglect for a long time. I said to my daughter, “It will be an eerie place to walk about when it is getting dark.”
Marx’ tomb occupied a very prominent spot in the cemetery. It was just at the corner of the bigger path. On the tall tomb stone stood a gigantic head, with a slogan of his “Workers of All Lands Unite” engraved in gold. There were some withered flowers at the foot of the tomb. We would have brought along some flowers but since we did not go to the cemetery directly we came with none. I had to gather some wild flowers nearby. I did not get a lot in fear of disturbing the dead. After giving him our due respect, we set off to look for the tomb of an English author, who is one of the few well known dwellers besides Karl Marx. With some difficulty we finally located hers. It was much less pompous than Marx’s and the weeds had taken over. It showed no sign of having been visited by anyone recently. I started to clean it out a bit but stopped for fear of touching poison ivy or something. I could have help but regret a little as we left the cemetery. George Eliot, as she was known to her readers, was such a compassionate author and had very keen conception of human sufferings.
The day before we bid good bye to London we finally got a chance to visit Highgate Cemetery where Karl Marx was laid to rest. It had been on our agenda from day one but had been postphoned. It was not because we did not priotize it, we just saved the best for the last :-)
Our professor friend had lived some years ago in Hempstead, which is very close to Highgate Cemetery. During that period he and his wife often visited Highgate Cemetery and would hide in the bush nearby Marx's tomb, watching visitors bowing before it. They would count the number of people coming by. To his surprise he found lots of Chinese but few Russians.
Our pilgrimage would not be complete without paying homage to Marx. We assured the professor that we would definitely visit Highgate Cemetery. On that day we first did some other sightseeing before heading for the cemetery. There was some distance between the tube station where we got off and the cemetery at Highgate Hill. It proved to be worthy of its name. It was quite a long uphill walk. Reaching the top of the hill we turned left and walked through a community park called Waterlow Park. We found both names make sense. Once the ground is high the water must be low.
At the gate to the cemetery a guy greeted us with a smile: “See Marx?” We were quite amused at his assumption and asked him: “Must there be a lot of Chinese coming here?” “Yeah, many. A lot of them from Chinese Embassy” he replied.
After paying our entrance fee and charge for taking pictures we set off in search of the tomb of the father of communism. We first wandered off to a small path but retrieved our steps after realizing it was not the right one.
It was an overcast morning and we could feel a little chill in the air. The cemetery was overgrown with trees and bushes. Some tomb stones were slanted, obviously having been neglect for a long time. I said to my daughter, “It will be an eerie place to walk about when it is getting dark.”
Marx’ tomb occupied a very prominent spot in the cemetery. It was just at the corner of the bigger path. On the tall tomb stone stood a gigantic head, with a slogan of his “Workers of All Lands Unite” engraved in gold. There were some withered flowers at the foot of the tomb. We would have brought along some flowers but since we did not go to the cemetery directly we came with none. I had to gather some wild flowers nearby. I did not get a lot in fear of disturbing the dead. After giving him our due respect, we set off to look for the tomb of an English author, who is one of the few well known dwellers besides Karl Marx. With some difficulty we finally located hers. It was much less pompous than Marx’s and the weeds had taken over. It showed no sign of having been visited by anyone recently. I started to clean it out a bit but stopped for fear of touching poison ivy or something. I could have help but regret a little as we left the cemetery. George Eliot, as she was known to her readers, was such a compassionate author and had very keen conception of human sufferings.
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
London Trip (7) -- Under the "Big Stupid Clock"
"Is it for the children” or “peace on earth”?
After we emerged from the Westminster Abbey Tube Station we quickly folded ourselves into the crowd. The north bank of London is a very popular place. With the Parliament Building, the Big Ben, and the Westminster Abbey in the vicinity, the area is always hustling and bustling with tourists. That was an early Thursday morning and the day did not start with rain as it had been the first few days we were there. We were congratulating on ourselves on picking a fine day to visit the most famous part of the city. With traffic zooming by, and groups of tourists in many different tongues pushing back and forth like ocean waves on the pavements, we had to be very careful where we were going. We were crossing the bridge, looking up very admiringly at the Big Ben when suddenly seeing a big and long face in front of us.
“It is for the children,” the long face spoke to us with a big smile and then we found in each of our hands a small fake flower, made hastily from red tissue paper and silver foil sheet rolled up as a stem. Before we could see it was a middle aged woman who was addressing us, a hand was thrust before us. We realized she was demanding some money. Jian gave her some coins of change.
“That is not enough, it is for the children.” She said.
“That is all the change I all,” Jian told her.
“Come on, it is for the children. Give me some more,” she became impatient.
Before we could explain to her that we did not have any more change on us the smile on the long face withered like a dying flower. She snatched the flowers from both Chang’s and my hands and walked away, leaving us with only one crappy looking flower in Jian’s hand. We were a little bewildered by her quick appearance as well as disappearance, but quite amused at her sudden change in behavior. Several days later we passed by the area again and saw her hanging around, handing flowers to innocent passers-bys. I can not say I totally doubt her genuine intention for a good cause, but she looked very much to me a cartoonish character out of Charles Dickens’s novel. She was so comical that she could hardly enlist any sympathy or respect.
Our last day in London ended with visiting several galleries and a trip to Highgate Cemetery during the day. At supper we turned on the TV and the news was about a guy who had been protesting against the War on Iraq and camping in front of the Parliament for 4 years, which made him the longest protester in history. Definitely we should pay him respect.
After supper we set off on our last expedition about the town. Once on the street outside of the Westminster Abbey Tube Station I was a little surprised to see the same women working her “charm” on other tourists, who still crowed the area around eight o’clock at night.
We found the guy posing himself very prominently across the street from the gate of the Parliament. He was in his early 50s, thin and fit, sitting in a folded chair. He looked very tan but not rugged. No traces of fatigue or dreariness could be detected as they would be expected to find in people when they had been exposed to elements for a considerable long period of time.
The whole block was covered with posters, big and small, with some anti-war and peace loving messages on them. He was glad to hear he was in the news and asked which channel the news was on. “That is good. The world will know and the message will get across”, he smiled very genuinely and asked where we were from. After hearing we were from China (we took our friends advice in mentioning nothing about America) he led us to a poster and pointed at the Chinese words written on it: “1.3 billion Chinese people are behind you”. It was a message by a Chinese fellow who claimed to have sit in Tiananmen demonstration.
He then went on to tell us he knew how to say “big guy” in Cantonese. He was called by that nickname while he worked in Hong Kong as a cook in one of MacDonnell’s. “The Chinese co-workers liked to make fun of me and push me around a little bit”, he added,” it was rare for a British, a white, to work as a cook. They were usually masters who gave orders to Chinese. So they vented it out on me. That is ok. I don’t mind.” He said that very sincerely. While Jian’ asked if he could took a picture of him, he dragged me into the picture with him. “Come on, don’t be shy,” he insisted.
We left him and bid good bye to the Big Ben for the last time. It just struck half past eight. It had stood there and witnessed passing of time for centuries. Besides keeping time it also served as a symbol of London, imposing, reserved and welcoming. It would extend the same hospitality to everyone -- accidental tourists like us, the flower lady who might make a living out of charity or the guy who seemed to care so little about earthy matters but devoted himself to a worthy cause. Adieu Big Ben("大笨钟--Big Stupid Clock" as Chinese call it)! Adieu London!
After we emerged from the Westminster Abbey Tube Station we quickly folded ourselves into the crowd. The north bank of London is a very popular place. With the Parliament Building, the Big Ben, and the Westminster Abbey in the vicinity, the area is always hustling and bustling with tourists. That was an early Thursday morning and the day did not start with rain as it had been the first few days we were there. We were congratulating on ourselves on picking a fine day to visit the most famous part of the city. With traffic zooming by, and groups of tourists in many different tongues pushing back and forth like ocean waves on the pavements, we had to be very careful where we were going. We were crossing the bridge, looking up very admiringly at the Big Ben when suddenly seeing a big and long face in front of us.
“It is for the children,” the long face spoke to us with a big smile and then we found in each of our hands a small fake flower, made hastily from red tissue paper and silver foil sheet rolled up as a stem. Before we could see it was a middle aged woman who was addressing us, a hand was thrust before us. We realized she was demanding some money. Jian gave her some coins of change.
“That is not enough, it is for the children.” She said.
“That is all the change I all,” Jian told her.
“Come on, it is for the children. Give me some more,” she became impatient.
Before we could explain to her that we did not have any more change on us the smile on the long face withered like a dying flower. She snatched the flowers from both Chang’s and my hands and walked away, leaving us with only one crappy looking flower in Jian’s hand. We were a little bewildered by her quick appearance as well as disappearance, but quite amused at her sudden change in behavior. Several days later we passed by the area again and saw her hanging around, handing flowers to innocent passers-bys. I can not say I totally doubt her genuine intention for a good cause, but she looked very much to me a cartoonish character out of Charles Dickens’s novel. She was so comical that she could hardly enlist any sympathy or respect.
Our last day in London ended with visiting several galleries and a trip to Highgate Cemetery during the day. At supper we turned on the TV and the news was about a guy who had been protesting against the War on Iraq and camping in front of the Parliament for 4 years, which made him the longest protester in history. Definitely we should pay him respect.
After supper we set off on our last expedition about the town. Once on the street outside of the Westminster Abbey Tube Station I was a little surprised to see the same women working her “charm” on other tourists, who still crowed the area around eight o’clock at night.
We found the guy posing himself very prominently across the street from the gate of the Parliament. He was in his early 50s, thin and fit, sitting in a folded chair. He looked very tan but not rugged. No traces of fatigue or dreariness could be detected as they would be expected to find in people when they had been exposed to elements for a considerable long period of time.
The whole block was covered with posters, big and small, with some anti-war and peace loving messages on them. He was glad to hear he was in the news and asked which channel the news was on. “That is good. The world will know and the message will get across”, he smiled very genuinely and asked where we were from. After hearing we were from China (we took our friends advice in mentioning nothing about America) he led us to a poster and pointed at the Chinese words written on it: “1.3 billion Chinese people are behind you”. It was a message by a Chinese fellow who claimed to have sit in Tiananmen demonstration.
He then went on to tell us he knew how to say “big guy” in Cantonese. He was called by that nickname while he worked in Hong Kong as a cook in one of MacDonnell’s. “The Chinese co-workers liked to make fun of me and push me around a little bit”, he added,” it was rare for a British, a white, to work as a cook. They were usually masters who gave orders to Chinese. So they vented it out on me. That is ok. I don’t mind.” He said that very sincerely. While Jian’ asked if he could took a picture of him, he dragged me into the picture with him. “Come on, don’t be shy,” he insisted.
We left him and bid good bye to the Big Ben for the last time. It just struck half past eight. It had stood there and witnessed passing of time for centuries. Besides keeping time it also served as a symbol of London, imposing, reserved and welcoming. It would extend the same hospitality to everyone -- accidental tourists like us, the flower lady who might make a living out of charity or the guy who seemed to care so little about earthy matters but devoted himself to a worthy cause. Adieu Big Ben("大笨钟--Big Stupid Clock" as Chinese call it)! Adieu London!