What would you do if you had 25 hours in London?

Here is what I did.

In October, Mr. Zeus had an overnight business trip to London, and so we found a cheap flight for me and I got to tag along. We landed at Heathrow Airport and took the express train into the city to Paddington Station. 

At this point I couldn’t quite believe that I was really in London. For all the to-ing and fro-ing between the States and Switzerland, I’d never been in London (or England that matter, if you don’t count Heathrow airport and that was only this summer).

I grew up reading English children’s literature and then English grown-up literature, so there is a lot of intellectual knowledge of England inside the brain, (or at least literary knowledge) but no experiential. When I saw the first London Underground sign from the train , I had that same feeling I had twenty years ago when I caught a very distance glimpse of Sacre Coeur from a bus window when I was arriving in Paris. It really does exist! I’m really here! This wasn’t at all what I expected it to look like! It is exactly what it is supposed to look like!

So this is a picture of Zeus looking at his wife who has gone all giddy and young and adventuresome and picture happy.

We walked through Paddington Station and I kept looking around for the Mr. Brown and the bear.

Oh, here he is.

From the station we walked through some well-to-do neighborhoods to Hyde Park. In between the main streets, there were the Mews, little alleyways that led back into what must have once been the gardens and stables back in the day, but have been converted into homes. It helped make sense of a lot of old books — how Little Diamond could sleep over the stable for instance.

Look out, the Dementors will get you!!

I brave the Underground.

 With Zeus settled into the hotel room to finish up some work, I ventured out on my own to explore. It felt crazy to be on the loose on my own in such a huge city filled with so many people! For about two minutes I felt a little scared. Then I changed my mind and decided to be adventurous!  I managed to figure out the Underground with some help from my handy Rick Steve’s London guidebook. And I went here. Do you remember what happened here?

 Of course you do!

 They’ve set up a Platform 9 3/4 with a trolley disappearing into the wall for photo ops!

Then I walked to The British Library to see the Treasures Room.  In that one room are a crazy amount of pivotal documents in history and the history of literature:  The Magna Carta, the Gutenberg Bible, one of the first copies of the King James Bible, Leonardo da Vinci’s notebooks, letters from Mary Queen of Scots to Elizabeth I, the Canterbury Tales, original libretto from Handel’s Messiah, Jane Austen’s writing desk, the Lindisfarne Gospels with illuminated manuscripts, scribblings of John Lennon and Paul McCartney on the backs of birthday cards of the lyrics of Yesterday and She’s Got a Ticket to Ride, etc., and one of my personal favorites: the handwritten manuscript of Jane Eyre opened to the passage, “Reader, I married him.” It was overwhelming, all the goodness in that one room.

But here is the thing that really took my breath away. The Codex Sinaiticus — from the 3rd century — the oldest manuscript of the entire Bible in existence. No photos are allowed, so I got this one off the web. Surrounded by other old manuscripts filled with color and decoration, of Hinduism,  Judeaism, Islam, Buddhism and even later illuminated manuscripts of the Bible, the Codex Sinaiticus was beautiful to me in its simplicity. It’s just Greek words on a page. Yet what Words! Even just thinkng about it now, I am thinking, “Where else can I go? Only You have the words of eternal life.”

This book, this Bible, these words, this Word, is my life. There it was, in front of me in a glass case. I started crying for the sheer momentousness of it and the guard on duty started doing his circles a little more frequently. I moved away and blew my nose to show him that I wasn’t about to do anything rash, and then I looked up on my phone the passage to which it was opened, Psalm 9:

I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart; I will recount all of your wonderful deeds. I will be glad and exult in you; I will sing praise to your name, O Most High.

I thought of the scribe who carefully copied those words down sometime in the AD 200s with such gratitude. Did he have any idea what importance his work would have someday? Surely it was a painstaking task – no white out if you made a mistake. And here it is on display as one of the world’s great treasures, beautiful in its faithfulness and simplicity.

Closing time at the British Library came too soon and I reluctantly left and made my way back to the underground in a London growing dusky. There was a delay on a subway line and I managed to backtrack and find an alternate route to…

Then we walked and walked and walked, along the Thames, past the Ministry of Defense, through Trafalgar Square (which was smaller and more trafficky than I expected, but it was dark out and I was getting hungry, so maybe I didn’t get the best view), on to Piccadilly Circus, past the Ministry of Silly Walks (!) and up Regent Street. By then I was really hungry and we’d already passed the cool looking Japanese restaurant with interactive menus in the table and the Lebanese restaurant where gluten-free options seemed plentiful. Finally we decided on a Moroccan restaurant – Momo’s – in a courtyard just off of Regent Street. It was so atmospheric – I’ve never been to Morocco, but it felt like it might be authentic looking. Dinner at any rate was absolutely delicious: lamb tagine with pears, prunes and almonds and carmelized onions. I felt my strength returning!

The next morning we woke early, had coffee and then walked the half hour to the hotel where Zeus’ meeting was held. He kept our overnight bags and then I was off on my own again! I was within walking distance of Buckingham Palace so I started off. I went through Wellington’s Arch. See those two ladies at the bottom of the photo? They asked me to take their photo. As I walked through the arch and down the avenue, I was passed by innumberable cyclists and runners. I never got a picture of all the runners, but London seemed to be filled with them, running, no sprinting, to work, or back home again with backpacks on. It was rather impressive and gave one the impression that exercise is not something to be trifled with!

 I walked and walked and began to wish that I’d rented a bicycle myself when I arrived at…Buckingham Palace. One of the funniest and most disconcerting things I found as I walked and walked and walked around was that while I had prepared myself to see cars on the left hand side of the road, I was unprepared for pedestrians following the same course of action. I kept finding myself on the right side of the sidewalk/underground tunnel/escalator heading into on-coming people, and having to scoot back left at the last minute.

They’re changing guard at Buckingham Palace –
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.

 (I think this one had itchy socks.)

 They’re changing guard at Buckingham Palace –
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
“Do you think the King knows all about me?”
“Sure to, dear, but it’s time for tea,”
Says Alice.

 These duckies seem pretty underwhelmed by the fact that they live within view of the Sovereign of British Empire.

I walked past the duckies and on and on….to….?

The most meaningful things are always the hardest things to write about. Why is that? We (the three big kids, my mother-in-law Brida and I) got to spend a week in Rome, almost embarrassing to say, but true! And even though it was mid-November we had blue sunny skies and very agreeable temperatures every day but one. But how to sum it up? For anyone it is a fascinating city. For anyone interested in art or history or architecture or all three it is magical. Not to mention the beautiful language and interesting people. And the food! The wonderful thing with a week was that while the chaos and busyness would have seemed frustrating after only a day or two, by the end of the week we’d gotten used to it. An example: crossing the street. The first day we huddled on the sidewalk, wondering at the fact of no traffic light, looking in bewilderment at the raging river of cars and thinking we’d never get to the other side. My first clue was the bent over little old lady with a cane who stepped out nonchalantly into the river, and like Joshua and the Israelites, the river piled up and stopped and the little old lady walked calmly to the other side, never breaking her stride. We stuck close behind. Actually, it’s one of the few things I retained from a brief visit to Rome when I was twenty, that excellent example of faith. The cars are barreling five abreast down the broad avenue. There is no crosswalk in sight and standing on the sidewalk, getting to the other side not only seems, but actually is, an impossibility. Until you get off the sidewalk. Once you take that first step off and into the stream of trouble, one by the one, the impossibility becomes possible, and you cross safely to the other side. My metaphor would be better if Jesus had been waiting on the other side, but unfortunately it was only the pope (!). Okay, on with the story. We stayed about 10 minutes walk  away from the Vatican and several mornings one or two of us got up early to visit soon after it opened at 7 before the crowds show up and while it is still a peaceful place of worship. It was peaceful with little groups of visiting nuns singing during a celebration of Mass. I confess I have very mixed feelings about St. Peter’s Basilica.  It certainly is impressive – built, according to tradition over the burial site of the apostle Peter. Since it is right next to the old site of Nero’s circus and that there’s been a church there since very early days, it is not unlikely. Other history as well – a spot on the floor marks the place (in the old St. Peter’s church) where Charlemagne was crowned Holy Roman Emperor by the pope on Christmas Day 800. Architecturally it is an amazing feat. But I couldn’t help thinking about the pope needing more money to complete it and sending Johann Tetzel out to sell indulgences to the peasants of Germany. Martin Luther was scandalized, stuck a notice on the church door, and well….if you don’t the story of the Reformation, you should probably go read it now. So I found myself wondering about the life savings of German peasants at the same time as I was inspired by the building. the south transept   But, it is an impressive building, very much in the tradition of the old Roman baths and basilicas. The dome was designed by Michelangelo in his spare time.   The visit to the Vatican Museums was a highlight ~ I only would have liked to have a few more days to stay there. So many amazing works of arts that one has always heard of from ancient times and the Renaissance. Perhaps I shall spare you lots of photographs of old statues and artifacts, but it’s like grandma’s attic of the world – a little bit of everything. Ancient Sumerian writing tablets? Check! Egyptian sarcophagi? Check!  A genuine mummy? Check! (poor woman) Mid-November was certainly a great time to visit because there were no lines and we stayed in the Sistine Chapel as long as we wanted, (even longer than some of us wanted!) getting cricks in our necks and deciphering the Old Testament stories that Michelangelo painted there. My Apollo was especially absorbed in Michelangelo’s painting of The Last Judgment which covers one huge wall. It’s a somber painting and makes you thoughtful and serious. My favorites were the Raphael rooms – I think because I am always yearning for more balance and beauty and less drama. To see The School of Athens for myself, there on the wall, that was something else. And to think that the pope had these painted essentially for wallpaper! At the Vatican Museums and at the Borghese Gallery the next day, I felt like all  the kids’ study of Greek and Roman history and mythology paid off. They were deciphering the artwork better than I, rattling off the twelve labors of Hercules and picking out Aeneas carrying his father out of a burning Troy from across the room! At any rate there is art and history to decipher everywhere in the city. Here was the base of one fountain. Can you name that story? I thought it was special (and took a picture of it) until I saw it on every lamp post in the city.   On the weekend, Zeus arrived with little Hermes. We had saved the Forum and the Coliseum for them. With the help of Rick Steves and his Ancient Rome app on my iPhone, we sat on the ruins and deciphered them. The Forum is a lot of rubble and less impressive than the still standing Coliseum but nonetheless amazing when you have a little bit of the history to go with it. Here we are on the steps of the Roman Senate building – talk about significant history! Notice us squinting in the sunshine! Our family with the jumble of ruins and buildings that is the Forum. The square tan building on the right hand side was the Senate building, and above and behind us at the top of the hill stood the Temple of Jupiter – the highest edifice in Rome. The triumphal parades – with captive barbarians, kings in chains, etc –  would have passed right to the right (our left) down the Via Sacra and then up to the Temple to offer sacrifices. An interesting fact, that when Julius Caesar was murdered, the Senate happened to be meeting across town, here. Notice two kids are practicing their Brutus-just-stabbed-me looks. Artemis appropriately quoted lines from Julius Caesar, “Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears…” It’s a funny ruin, surrounded by busy streets and stores. It’s below street level and archeological work is obviously currently going on. It’s also a refuge for feral cats. In this photo you can see how much Rome was built and rebuilt on the previous layer and how every time they did anywhere they are liable to find old treasures. They’ve been working on a third subway line for years, but it’s taking forever because they keep finding priceless goodies. Speaking of priceless goodies, aren’t my girls lovely in their matching Italian coats? This is just for fun: My sweetie and me at the Arch of Titus, which shows the sacking of Jerusalem in 70 AD.   The Coliseum. They’ve rebuilt a little of the wooden floor (towards us) so you can picture how it once looked. Underneath the floor was the maze of cells and hallways where gladiators practiced and wild animals paced. On our last day in Rome, although the weather wasn’t quite as blue, we went up the Palatine Hill. It certainly gets less press than the Forum and Coliseum but we loved it. One gets to wander in the half overgrown remains of the Imperial Palace, stand where Caesar’s throne one sat, and take in the sweeping views  over the Circus Maximus and the Forum.   View from the ruins of the Imperial Palace. St. Peter’s dome is in the distance. Isn’t that umbrella pine in the middle just fabulous? The kids in front of Romulus and Remus’ supposed huts. These are a fairly recent uncover, apparently, and there is a good case that they may be the real thing. (!?) Check out that umbrella pine in the background. Looking down into the Forum from atop the Palatine Hill. The Coliseum is in the background to the right. And finally, let’s not kid ourselves, one of the wonders of Italy, besides the history and the art (and the shopping) is…the food! Hermes with his anchovy pizza and his drawing of the same. Italy has the world’s highest level of celiac disease (people allergic to gluten) in the population and children are routinely tested for it, so consequently, waiters and store clerks are very well-informed and well-stocked. It was very easy to find pasta and pizza senza glutine and on two occasions, even ice cream cones!   So, sigh,to sum up. I haven’t even begun to capture how much beauty and art there is in that city. If you would like to gaze upon more lovely photographs of Rome, I commend you to my daughter’s blog, In the Far Country, where she posted some really nice shots. For me, I think beyond the art and the history, one of the highlights was being there long enough to experience some of the everyday stuff. And because I like languages and I had been practicing in the car with the Instant Immersion Italian that I bought at Costco this summer (to the annoyance of many of my passengers), I enjoyed trying to communicate in pigeon Italian. Too often I get hung up on my perfectionism that my desire to be correct in speech inhibits my desire to communicate. But there was something in Rome that worked well against that. Maybe because as a city it’s obviously imperfect and chaotic but so beautiful anyway. Many people in the tourist industry are quite used to speaking English, but there are plenty that don’t. There was a tiny grocery market across the street from our apartment. Instead of picking things out and then paying for them, you have to ask the man behind the counter for them. He was patient with me and made suggestions when I obviously didn’t have the right word for something. Si si! Carta hygenica! Another time we had a great taxi driver with whom I had a lengthy philosophical conversation although most of it was in two word phrases of mashed up Italian. That experience of communication, of catching a little glimpse of someone else’s language, and therefore culture, reminds me of why I like languages and I like traveling. I like people and I like their stories. Individually, like the taxi driver, who wasn’t too worried about the lack of tourists today – domani migliore  — tomorrow will be better – and corporately, historically, as in all the individuals who made up Rome and the Roman Empire, the stories behind the paintings, how Caravaggio painted his own self-portrait into his David and Goliath to apologize for accidentally killing a man, and the bittersweet romantic story behind the painting of Sacred and Profane Love. The Arch of Titus – Romans carrying off the menorah from the Temple in 70 AD The best stories and the best artifacts are the ones that make me realize that the best really old stories are true. In the Vatican Museums there were Sumerian tablets, like Abraham probably wrote on. There was a decorative stone panel commemorating one of Sennacharib’s conquests. The Arch of Titus, shows the Romans carrying off the treasures of the Temple of Jerusalem – fulfilling Jesus’ prophecy that the Temple would be destroyed, and that His sacrifice fulfilled the need for sacrifices once and for all. Seeing all those artifacts, tangible evidence of a history that has been lived on and lived in continuously for thousands of years builds my faith that the Bible is historically true and accurate and worthy of my trust.  When we left Rome, we were ready to go. I think in the summer, with the heat and the crowds, it must be nearly unbearable. But even for us, with pleasant weather and a minimum of tourists, it was time to go back to the familiar and process everything we’d been blessed to see. But when I visit a city, I am always hopeful that I will be able to say, “there now, I’ve checked that off my list!” and feel done with it forever. But I never do. I’m afraid I only start dreaming of the next time…