Day Two: London

I awoke after a very fitful night’s sleep. Sheri slept over 12 hours. However she did wake up at 1 AM here ready to go. I only had about 4 hours of sleep. So when 8 AM arrived, and it was my turn to shower, I wondered what adventures the day would bring. It started immediately. After trying to figure out how the shower worked at our hotel, I was about to give up after 5 minutes. Then we got a call from Britt who was also wondering how to turn on the shower. I told her once I figured it out I’d call her back. I stood there freezing in my birthday suit as I fiddled with the shower contraption. I almost called the front desk, using that phone in the bathroom. About 3 minutes later I figured it out.

Now that the grooming is over (glad I skipped that part?) it was off to the Tower of London. Once again, to remind those following along, in one way it looks smaller in person than it does in the photos you remember. Nonetheless, it is an amazing place. We started with a tour from a Beefeater who just so happened to be in charge of the Tower Ravens. You’ll have to Google that. Before the tour started, I had the girls pose with one at the gate. They are a very cheeky sort, probably because they have to deal with so many rude Americans. And on that note, don’t rude Americans ever hear that they are considered loud and rude and should maybe stop or just shut their yaps?

I will skip over the highlights of most of the tour of the Tower. However, I must mention seeing the Crown Jewels in person. Being in the same room with the largest diamond in the world does not seem real. The opulence of the regalia is beyond words. The amount of gold and precious gems is just surreal. It’s funny what humans can create. And it’s even funnier what we collectively decide to value.

As we were in one of the courtyards within the Tower, our lovely California Girl daughters caught the fancy of a few of the British soldiers garrisoned at the Tower Barracks. The group staring at them out their window steadily grew. There was also one guard stationed outside which I got to smile. I told him both my daughters were not married and I was looking for an honorable British soldier with a sizable dowry to take them off my hands. This made Brittney upset but Elissa found it funny. The soldier responded with a smile and he stomped his feet twice, the international sign for, “Yes. I agree to your terms.”

After a short debate about how best to get to the Tate Modern (museum of modern art) we decided to take a real London cab for the first time. For the four of us to go halfway across downtown it only cost five pounds (ten bucks). Not bad. After ten minutes in the place, I realized my time would be better served by sitting outside in an orange lawn chair bored to death for two hours. This is what I chose to do. Thankfully, my family became bored too and decided to join me outside. The thing is, I appreciate modern art if it looks like something that took more talent to make than either I or a five-year-old could do. But come on folks, staring at a giant red canvas with a yellow stripe painted across one side, then calling truly revolutionary? Who the freak do they think they’re kidding? Not me. I’ll sit outside and look at pigeon crap on the sidewalk.

The Tate Modern anchors one end of the Milenium Bridge. The other side is anchored by St. Paul’s Cathedral. Now, it’s been my dream to just sit inside one of the great cathedrals of Europe. Mission accomplished. No photos or video allowed by the way. Again, there’s no way to describe it. But my staring and gawking was cut short by the announcement that all those wishing to climb the 43,897 steps to the top were to proceed to the back of the Nave immediately. We jumped at the chance. One third of the way up we reached what’s called the whispering galleries. Through a fluke of acoustics, you can sit on one side and hear, with perfect clarity, someone sitting on the other side whispering over 200 feet away. This is where Sheri decided to stay as the heights were getting the best of her. It was all for the good because what awaited us was quite unexpected. I liken it to a climb up Half-Dome in Yosemite.

The climbing just would not end. And many Europeans do not have the same personal hygiene Americans do. So the smell was, at times, a bit sharp. At one spot in the climb, you almost have to get on your knees to make it through the narrow passage. Any bit of claustrophobia would cripple you. And that is the exact place where the line stood still for me for five minutes. I was hunched over, unable to go forward because my girls were stopped, and unable to go backward because some nice but (pun intended) unfortunate Italian woman was stuck right behind me. She can be grateful my gastric system adjusted quickly to the English cuisine.

We finally made it to the top. It’s over 300 feet up and you get a view of all of London. But there were way too many people up there and the guide at the top insisted people could go both ways. This was a mistake because there was literally no room for two people to pass each other. A panic situation started leaving us all locked in position in 45 mph winds at the top of St. Paul’s spire for about 10 minutes. I blame the Japanese tourists because they cannot understand or read English, are used to being smashed against each other, and they do no understand directional arrows. They also pick the most inappropriate places to stop and take pictures. I finally had to take charge of the situation myself and forcefully push them toward the exit. We made it out. On the way down I got to talk to a nice man from South Carolina who informed me the stock market crashed. But I could have cared less because I was in London inside St. Paul’s Cathedral. And I was on a three week vacation.

Just as we were about to leave, we were invited to join in the Evensong service. We quickly got in line and actually got to sit in the choir in private stalls. We did this along with several other tourists. The service began and it was the most boring service I had even been a part of. Seriously. It was a spoken Evensong. That would make it an Evenspeak. The only funny thing that happened was Sheri standing confidently at a time where sitting was the appropriate thing to do. She also spoke one of the lines loudly that was to be spoken by the priest. It was really funny and provided the only bright spot in the service. Brittney fell asleep and Elissa drew gargoyles in her sketchbook. It was a real let-down. The priest even looked like he was upset and not happy to be there.

The inside of St. Paul’s is inspiring, amazing, and a feast for the eyes. It’s the youngest and largest cathedral in London. I could have stayed inside and soaked in the beauty all day. But my family wants to leave. So we do. But I leave inspired and moved beyond words. We leave and immediately outside next to the steps is parked a Picadilly Whip truck selling ice cream. The real world slaps of reality.

So now we’re tired and hungry. We begin to do what Londoners do very well; we walk. Then we walk some more. We’re soon near our hotel and decide to stop for some pub grub. And it’s here that we learned an important lesson. When at a pub, don’t sit down and expect t be waited upon. First pick out a table and look for a brass number embedded in it. Then go up to the bar and order your food. We had the best pub grub the whole trip in that place. We had bangers and mash inside a Yorkshire pudding smothered in onion gravy. It was delicious and I looked forward to all the cuisine the U.K. had to offer. After the meal the waiter came and took away our plates and then we waited for our check. We waited for over a half hour before we gave up and decided to be rude and ask for it. He quickly brought it and we were on our way.

Back at the Hilton we quickly settled in for a very restful night’s sleep. And that it was. We were exhausted and we all slept without waking up early. It was a good day.