Parliament

On Thursday a group of us were able to go and sit in on a session of the House of Commons, which is the lower house of parliament. They don't really let you take pictures inside (other than the visitors hall), so you're just going to have to be happy with what I was able to get.

Every day at the opening of parliament (which is around 10:30) there is a small opening ceremony/procession, where several people wearing robes and those darling powdered wigs solemnly walk into the chamber, placing the golden scepter on its traditional resting place in the center of the room.

There is also a traditional daily prayer before the opening of debates, but, as it took our group a while to get up all of those flights of stairs, we missed it (And darn, you guys know how much I like praying). In any case, the prayer is a tradition, as it was first started in 1558 and became permanently established in 1567.

You're not allowed to take pictures anywhere other than the visitor's hall (see below) and you're not allowed to take any of your stuff into the actual chamber with you (other than coats, weirdly enough, but I guess by that point you've been through several metal detectors and they're not afraid of exploding coats).

Apparently, the house only has seats for 437 of its members (there are 659 members) but it seemed pretty comfortably empty when we were there. The debate was on the topic of higher education (particularly funding for higher education and ensuring that everyone has access to the education necessary for their desired career). While the topic was interesting, debate does get rather dry after a while (although the M.P.'s do crack a surprising amount of jokes).

One of the things that surprised me was how familiar the parliamentary debate structure was, and how closely we'd followed it in our debates. I mean, instead of a P.O. you address the guy as Mr. Speaker, and the questioning sessions are waaaaay longer, but aside from that the structure was primarily what I was used to.

By the way, they don't all wear those powdered wigs, just the three clerks in the middle get to.

In general, the House of Commons' sessions are open to the public, but they can have closed sessions if they choose. These days a member has to move "That this house sit in private" but it used to be that they'd stand up and declare "I spy Strangers." After 'spying strangers' everyone but members and officers would have to withdraw, and as it was frequently used as a delay tactic, they changed the rules.

Traditionally, also, snuff is provided to the M.P.s, although few of them take it anymore, and it's the only form of tobacco allowed within Parliament. Also, the reigning monarch is not allowed to set foot within the House of Commons, just a fun fact.

That's me! Wondering why I look like that?

Well, it's because I overslept and had to drag my tushie out of its nice, warm bed rather earlier than I would have liked.

Maritime Greenwich

Last week I went to Maritime Greenwich, which is actually pretty cool. The museums there are quite interesting (and more importantly, free!), there's a huge beautiful park (see photos below) and a pretty good market. Quite frankly, the market's got really great food, so if you're going there, it's really a good place to stop for lunch.

This one's from the naval/astronomy museum. It where they keep the coat that Nelson was shot in (you can see the bullet hole) and for some reason they also got a chunk of his hair. Ah, well, anything in the name of history, I suppose. There are also many historical artifacts from England's illustrious naval history, and some interactive stuff for the kids. Dmitry, when you get here, we are so going here. I spent the entire time thinking of you.


This one is from the astronomy museum, which is primarily a museum dedicated to John Flamsteed, who is also the subject of this lovely and enthusiastic lady's speech. Flamsteed was the very first astronomer royal, in the late 1600's. Apparently, the position was not as glamourous as it sounds. Flamsteed only got paid 100 pounds a year and he had to pay for his own telescope. Flamsteed, who was never a particularly healthy guy (I think it was gout, but don't quote me), had to suffer for his work.

You see, Christopher Wren, the famous architect, built the observatory in the astronomer's home. Wren, while a fabulous architect (the room is quite lovely, actually), wasn't so smart when it came to astronomy. The room was surrounded by windows, which faced every concievable direction .... except for directly North and South. As a result, the frequently-ill Flamsteed was forced to take his telescope up to the roof to make his observations properly. He also made some of his observations from his vegetable garden. And you thought your job sucked.

Anyway, Flamsteed's home is now a museum, and right next to it is one that shows the development of time-keeping, particularly in relation to naval history. Imaginably, once you're out of sight of land, it's difficult to know what time it is. The museum chronicles the development of a reliable (and portable) clock, which is actually pretty interesting. It also tells you some of the more .... eccentric ideas they had for letting sailors know what time it was. For example, someone had the brilliant idea of having the guys at various ports-of-call fire off a rocket every day at exactly noon, so that the ships out at see would see it and know that it was noon. This didn't work, because, well, if you were out at sea, you probably wouldn't see the damn rocket, and also because the rockets of the time were unreliable and wouldn't fly very high.

These museums are definitely worth seeing, but it is rather difficult to drag your butt up there to see them (they're both at the top of a very large hill, which actually makes for pretty views).

Like I said, pretty views.


The millenium clock was set off at (duh!) the millenium, and keeps obscenely accurate time, telling you just how long it's been since midnight on the year 2000. Why you'd want to know, I'm not sure, but it'll tell you.

Flamsteed's house was built in this particular location because it stands on (or if you believe the sign, really, really next to) the prime meridian, which the zero point of longitude. For those of you who confuse longitude and latitude like I do, longitude is the one that measures east to west. Also, that is the millienium clock ticking away directly beneath the prime meridian display.

Greetings from the Grocery Store!

This is a cereal. While 'porage oats' don't exactly sound appetizing, it was almost worth buying it just for the dude wearing a kilt on the front of the box.

If you look closely enough, the jar actually says 'Baby Beetroot' but it's far more amusing if it's just baby. Also saw pickled eggs today, which I find just as appetizing.

Wicked

While I saw Wicked almost two weeks ago, the Tuesday before last, I still feel that it warrants mentioning, if only because it was so purely and completely different from the book of the same name. While the book is insufferably long, frequently boring and occasionally grotesque, the musical version is sweet, funny and utterly charming. Sitting through Wicked is one of the few times when I can suspend my disbelief and I have rarely believed in a character so much as I believed in Elphaba, perhaps because everyone can feel sympathy for the poor neglected little girl who becomes a hero. It's the sort of show you come out of feeling as though you've experienced a sweet and particularly pleasant dream, when you're not sure if you're actually walking on the concrete or perhaps floating above it.

Don't take this as a review, take it as a recommendation, and definitely see Wicked if you've got the chance.

Thames walk

Apparently, as I discovered recently, the Thames walk is just as interesting during the day as it is at night. If you walk past the London eye (and manage to stay out of the restaurants lining the path) you will discover that the walkway is littered with 'statues.' These people, who form an array from the pretty to the simply bizarre, will stand completely stock still, until they hear the clinking of change in their bucket, at which point they will perform for the (easily amused) passers-by. While not necessarily astounding, it is pretty amusing, and even if you're not willing to shell out the change, there will always be someone (usually with children in tow) who is willing to pay. It's a fairly cheap way to amuse yourself, and if you're willing to walk a way past the statues, there's a skateboarding park (which is free amusement, because, eventually, somebody's gonna fall over), and a small used book market under the bridge.



This guy (when you pay him) will wave his arms (and bat) around and pull your hair if you get close enough, as well as posing for pictures. Not sure why he's got the bat, other than it matches his outfit.

There are several statues in such silverized garb, and I'll admit, I only took a picture of this one because I thought the dress and parasol looked pretty, as wel as the fact that the view across the bridge is quite nice.

Here you see one of the headless wonders. If you saw it in person, you'd observe the glasses hanging in 'mid-air' (i.e. attached to a wire). Most adults can tell that the robe bit is high enough to hide your average-sized head, but children find him quite amusing. And if you drop a coin in his bucket, he'll wave his hands around in a way that I'm sure is intended to be mystifying.

I mostly took a picture of this guy because I have a soft spot for wizards. I'm not sure exactly what he usually does, but immediatey after I took this photo he started waving his stick around and (playfully) trying to bop people with it. I hope it was playfully, anyway. I stayed out of hitting range nonetheless.

This is a giant iguana pedalling a bicycle. He will pedal and shake hands with you (if you've got change). If you look closely at this photo, you can see that he's shaking the little girl's hand, which I'm sure is quite an honor for her. I mean, not everyone can say that they've shaken hands with a giant iguana.

Spring is here!!!

What's big and green and lovely all over?

Today, it was certainly Hyde Park.

Since coming to London, I've been missing one of the few things one can truly miss from suburbia (other than my family, of course), and that is greenery (although I doubt that there can be very much of it back home just now). Thusly, today, on this, the rarest of sunshiney days, I took myself off to the park, making the not-so-arduous walk all the way down Oxford Street, through the shopping mecca to the green pot-of-gold at the end. After, of course, stopping by Sainsbury's first, to purchase my semi-picnic lunch, I went through the Marble Arch and into the green.

These flowers were the first thing I encountered upon entering Hyde Park, and, well, they made me so happy that I just had to take a picture of them. The trees are still bare, but it doesn't matter so long as I've got grass and flowers.

This semi-former playground of the well-to-do evokes images of classic movies. I can easily imagine petticoated ladies strolling down the lanes, or hired coaches driving hurriedly by its perimeters. Primarily because of the nerd in me, the trees remind me of the in-between place where the kids in The Magician's Nephew first entered Narnia. I am also determined to believe that this is the park in which the heroes of 101 Dalmations found love, both canine and otherwise.

This sign very pointedly tells me that Peter Pan is to my left, and although I have yet to discover where he is hiding, I will find him eventually.

Nowadays, instead of carriages and strolling upper class ladies, Hyde Park is full of runners, people walking their various dogs and children, rollerbladers, picnickers, tourists and pigeons.

While I can't say much for the children, several of the dogs were attracted to the smell of my lunch (as, unfortunately, were several of the pigeons. Those things are creepy when they keep hopping around you, particularly because of the red eyes. Say what you will about tourists, but at least they don't try to steal your lunch).

And, of course, there's this guy:

Seriously, I didn't mess with this picture at all (and I actually don't think I could make it weirder than it is). How he could run in that thing is beyond me.

Pancake Day

Anyone who lives in or around New Orleans will, I'm sure, happily tell you of Fat Tuesday, otherwise known as Mardi Gras. While it started out as a celebration before the fast of Lent, it is now primarily an excuse to get drunk and wear weird outfits.

The Brits, of course, have their own version of Fat Tuesday, but without the party. Over here, we call it Shrove Tuesday, and it is Pancake Day. Because of the fasts of Lent, people wanted to get rid of the excess temptations filling their pantries (also, to eat the things before they went bad over Lent), and as a result, Pancake Day came into existence. People rarely fast for Lent anymore, but, well, any reason to eat is a good enough one for me (PANCAKES!!!).

The pancakes here are not pancakes as we know them. They're thinner, lighter and overall crepe-ier, but they're still delicious. However, the images you will see below are not of people devouring the delicious doughy substance, but, rather, racing with it.

The annual Pancake Day races (in Brick Lane) have also somehow insinuated themselves into the tradition. They are relay races in teams of three, in which the runner goes from end to end, pan in hand, flipping upon command of the arbitrators (those are the dudes in the striped pajamas with the light sabers in the photos. Whenever they point their light saber and yell flip, you have to). While the pancakes do not alway remain in pan upon flipping, this seems to be a minor difficulty to most competitors, who simply pick the thing up off of the ground and plop it back in. The winner is awarded a silver frying pan with their name engraved onto it (which isn't much good for cooking I would guess, but if you want to run around carrying a pancake in it, it'd probably work well enough).

The costumes are optional, but they certainly make it more fun. Personally, my day isn't complete if I don't see some guy dressed up as a hot pink dragon, but that's just me.