Where did the sun go?

Tate Modern - no pics allowed inside
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I just had to escape from Morocco.  It seemed that natural or unnatural forces were hindering my progress.  I spent an entire day trying to arrange a flight with complications with internet, skype, credit card and airline.  I finally called Kurt and he was able to order me a ticket to London very early the next morning on Atlas Blue Airlines.

I spent my last night pondering my outcast state at a cafe overlooking Mohammad V boulevard where across the street the lights of Katoubia mosque were just turning on and the sun was relenting its scorching force in favor of a cooler God.

Millenium Bridge
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I got up the next morning at 4:30 in order to make my 7:30 flight.  The plane arrived in London a bit before noon.  I had managed to reserve a room at a hostel called the Generator.  I had no idea what I was getting into.  This is the largest place I have stayed.  They can accomodate 800 hard partying travelers.  There is a lounge, a bar, a cafeteria, laundry, internet and on July 1st it will all be smoke free along with all of London.  It will be a lot nicer then.   It is non-stop 24/7 with so many people.  I have no idea how many are sharing the bathrooms.  An Aussie fellow, Jim, told me he stayed here for 2 months 2 years ago and it was a lot wilder then.  Sorry I missed it.

Consuming the Tate
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I have a four bed dorm which I thought would be just mine and the Aussie's but two more showed up at about 2am.

I got out that first day in town and hit up the Tate Modern.  Bunny had already warned me it was a not-to-be-missed.   It must be, next to MOMA, the greatest collection of modern art.  I got a major art lesson in eras and representations.  The curators have done a real service by giving really useful information on where the artists place with their contemporaries.   At one point while looking at the people riding the escalator down as I was going up I thought they were a piece of the exhibition.

The entry of the British Museum
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The rain which had been just a tease when I went in now was more ernest in it's wetness.  I had no umbrella so I hiked across the millenium foot bridge and up to St Paul's Cathedral.  Being one of the most recognizable landmarks I was delighted to go in and realize it was Sunday and there was a service in attendence.  The space is grand and the upkeep immaculate.  The use of gilt tiles as from Byzantine with a wealth of artistic embellishments from several eras blend gracefully.  The posh tones of the male and female ministers reading and telling the story of a woman named Rose McCauley who was a Bloomsbury group contemporary echoed in the vast chamber and gave one that feeling of being in a very important elocution lesson.  There was live music all very tasteful and solemn.  Brits really know how to do high church.

The exhibition of cross cultural rites of life
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I got one really useful thing from church that day.  The program.  I used it to cover my head while I found my way to the underground.  The stop for the short walk to the Generator is the King's cross stop.  When you come to it a voice announces the stop then the connecting lines and then says "Alight here for the Royal institute for the blind."  It took me a beat or two before I thought 'well, if they're blind they really can't use a-light can they.'

I was going to to eat dinner at the hostel Sunday night as they were featuring roast with potatoes and veggies for £3.50 but in an almost comical farce I reached the line just as they ran out of roast. So I said the hell with them and went down the street to an Indian place that had a really intriguing menu.  I wasn't that impressed with what I got or with the Aussies next to me who belched coughed and sneezed along with cackled away in drunken jollity until I asked this guy 'how many noises can you make?  That made him self conscious enough to tone it down.  On the other side were a couple from Belfast who chatted with me about what to see in the city.

Lion head from Ninevah
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Today I took some of their advice.  I got transport pass after 9:30 for a mere 5 pounds.  I then hoofed it through  Russell square to the most venerable British Museum.  I got to see all the stuff the looted from all those places I was at in Turkey and Greece.  Along with a huge bit of Egyptian treasures.  At least here they are displayed with the best techniques of preservation and  visual appeal  versus that  mess  in the  Cairo museum.  I  only did two hours and then took off to see the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace.  I walked through Green Park and came upon the scene in the rain (now with umbrella).  The crowd had pretty much squeezed off all view.  Still I hung around and got some  shots through the other mass of cameras of the Queen's guard band who were playing such martial tunes as That's why the  Lady is a tramp and My Way.  I got to see the leaving of the old guard and then wind a rain drove the crowd out.  On my way to find Westminster Abbey I found Westminster chapel and then Westminster Cathedral.  I got a dose of Catholic guilt building listening to the priest intone in this massive pile with a ceiling that remains unfinished with dark untiled domes.

Assyrian lion hunt
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As I stepped down into the cafeteria I got a hit of the England of the 70's.  All these slightly buggy or misanthopic creatures huddled around their bangers with chips and tea.

Westminster abbey really put me off asking 10 quid entry.  The nerve.  As if they need the bloody cash to keep that monster up and running.  I may try to sneak into a service when I get back in town next week.

Right next door is the parliament buildings and Big Ben.  There you go through major security.  I was patted down twice before being allowed to enter the House of Lords chamber.  Now that is an ornate place.  And the oration of the session in progress was just as ornate.  After spending almost an hour and half waiting in queue I wish I had read the Rick Steve's London edition before as it advised don't wait for the commons chamber.  There was an interesting exhibition that I caught marking the 200th anniversary of the abolition of slave trade by Parliament.

Greek Carytid - I wonder if she misses her sisters whom I saw in Athens
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Exhausted I tubed back to the hostel but stopped off for a bite at a local eatery called O'Neils.  An Irish pub playing lots of Beatles and other vintage tunes.  I ate my best meal here to date.  A seafood stew with soda bread along with a tasty hard cider.   The young Bosnian waitress was not exactly sure what the cider was but it all worked out.

The sun popped out at the end of the day giving me energy to pop back on the tube and head to Tower of London.  Of course it was closed but the bridge is walkable and with the mix weather sky made for some beautiful skyline views at dusk.