T.S. Eliot: The Vocabulary for Love Within a Family

Hello again chums! This message is brought to you by the letter F! F is for: Family Fun! That’s right, 3 of the 4 remaining Jardons scuttled over the pond the other week and paid yours truly a visit! It was so lovely to see them, and I was so excited to show them just how well I’ve adapted to living here and how much I knew about London. Leading up to their arrival, I gave them all kinds of insider tips and things to do while I was at work, plus they were spending Easter weekend with me, so while I was painfully jealous that my second family (Megan, Allie, Ally, and Alex-you know the gang by now I hope) had toddled off to Paris and Berlin for the break, Family the 1st swooped in and saved me from a very lonely holiday.

On the day they arrived, they started with a nap and then we decided to get out and do something British. So we got Italian food. Scold me all you want, but it was a crazy tourist weekend, what with the resurrection of Christ coming up and all. Our next move was to Harrods, where I showed them everything from the Egyptian escalator to those snuggly (and unbearably expensive) little puppies on the top floor. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, look back into the archives of this here blog and take a peek. That night we also made a late night trip to the V&A, which ranks as one of the nicest and most well-filled museums I’ve seen in London. You’ll see a few of those pictures later.

The next morning was devoted to British writers. Clearly my parents will support my interests, no matter how embarrassing and nerdy they are. Our first stop of the day was Westminster Abbey, which was my number one “return to” spot from my last trip here. As we waited in the ridiculous Holy Saturday line, I was giddy at the thought of what was to come. Upon entrance, I basically zoomed through the rest of the building, stopping briefly at the graves of Queen Elizabeth I and Mary Queen of Scots, until I came upon every English major’s dream: Poet’s Corner. Every writer, poet, playwright and generally awesome human being is buried or memorialized in this tiny niche of the cathedral. While I couldn’t take pictures to show you, I can tell you that I’ve decided exactly where I want to be buried: right next to Sir Laurence Olivier and below William Shakespeare’s memorial. Just a cozy little spot among the greatest humans to ever live!

I also got to see Britain’s oldest door, so….yeah…be jealous.

The fam

Next on our journey through the wonderful world of literature was Charles Dickens’ house and museum. Not my favorite stop; their collections of Dickens related paraphernalia was a little disjointed and displayed pretty randomly, and his house was not particularly unique or impressive, but as usual, knowing that Dickens himself used to stand in those same rooms was really cool. Some highlights were the library of his novels and the outfit he wore to meet Queen Victoria.

We had a quick spot of tea at Bea’s of Bloomsbury, which was adorable…

…and then we headed to our final literary destination of the day: the home of the world’s most famous detective-221b Baker St. I told you I’d get to the Sherlock Holmes Museum! We may have gotten a little lost on the bus on the way there, but it ended up being a fun blessing because we stumbled upon Abbey Road and got to take a quick peak at Abbey Road Studios. We finally made it back to Baker St. and headed into the museum. Let me tell you something about the Sherlock Holmes Museum: if you people thought I was a dork, Sherlock Holmes fans have raised the bar. Each room was decorated to the exact specifications noted in Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s stories, complete with bullet holes in the wall and the violin Holmes was known to play. There were also some creepy wax statues of all of Holmes’ villains and even a display of the letters written by real people to Sherlock Holmes in the hope that he would come solve their mysteries. He’s a fictional character, people. Relax. He’s not coming to help you discover where your cat goes at night (example from a real letter, I kid you not).

It was time to head back to South Kensington, but my Mom and sister and I needed to make one more stop to the Victoria and Albert museum to finish up the highlights tour. We saw some really beautiful furniture and silver, and a really neat display on snuffboxes. We just barely made it through the amazing exhibit on jewelry when they started kicking us out.

Silver lace

We awoke to a lovely Easter Sunday, which I’ll just cover for you briefly because I wouldn’t want to steal the thunder on Jesus’ big day, now would I.

-Got dressed and headed to Easter Mass at the Oratory. Pretty sweet.

-Brunch at Babylon, a very fancy restaurant on Kensington High St. There were flamingos.

-Nap at the hotel

-I actually don’t remember what else we did, but I’m sure it was just lovely.

The next day was the first of two Jardon clan daytrips outside of London. This excursion was merely a train ride away to Brighton, an absolutely gorgeous beach town in southern England. Imagine San Francisco where everyone has an adorable accent. That’s what Brighton is like. It was a gorgeous day, although really windy, and when we got off the train we walked straight down a hill to the beach. I had completely forgotten what the ocean looked like not from an airplane window, so it was really nice to breathe in some salty Atlantic air and listen to seagulls. The boardwalk was full of shops and bars and restaurants, and there were hundreds of people riding bikes and walking dogs all along the coast.

We made our way down to the pier which is highly reminiscent of Santa Monica pier (could I have discovered the original California?) and then we decided to head to Brighton’s second most popular feature, The Royal Pavilion. The summer oasis of Charles II, this palace looks like nothing else in all of England. It was full of opulent furniture and decorations, including a 1 ton chandelier and a “music room”. But most stunning of all was the architecture. Let’s have a little look, shall we?

Day excursion #2 was to Shakespeareland! No, I’m not talking about a Shakey-themed amusement park, although it might as well have been considering how many times I almost peed in my pants with excitement. I’m talking about Stratford-upon-Avon, hometown of the world’s most wonderful writer and all around great guy. Our first stop, when we got off the train, was Shakespeare’s birthplace. Don’t even get me started on how excited I was. But what is it with these amazing historical sites and no photos? Here are a few I did manage to captcha.

We made a few brief stops at Shakespeare’s dad’s house and his family friends’ houses, and we passed by where Shakespeare went to school, and then finally, it was time for the moment I’ve been waiting for all my life. I got to see Shakespeare’s grave. I got to be in the same room- in the same air- as Shakespeare himself. I’m actually getting goosebumps just thinking about it. A moment of silence please.

A quick stop at “Othello’s” for lunch (I swear, the whole town revolves around my main man), and then began the mile long hike to Anne Hathaway’s house. Not “Devil Wears Prada” Anne Hathaway, Shakespeare’s wife Anne Hathaway. She has the most adorable little cottage at the end of a long walking trail, with and adorable garden and some really beautiful willow arbors. It looked like a fairytale.

The next day I had to get back to my internship, and my family had some other adventures planned on their own, but we met up each night for a dinner and a show, the likes of which are another whole post to themselves. More than anything about these 10 days, I loved spending time with my family and sharing everything I’ve learned with them, even if they can be more than a little nuts. And I’m sure they’re giddy with excitement knowing that they’ve made it onto the now infamous Black Cab Chronicles. Hello family, I know you’re out there! I’ll see you again soon! But next, off to Amsterdam!

Joan Littlewood: Oh! What a Lovely War

I know, I know. I've been away for far too long and you've missed me and my witty musings terribly. I've been overwhelmingly busy with work and class, and just barely squeezing in the things I write about on the weekends, let alone actually writing about them. I'm sorry I left you with nothing to read, but I promise I'll never make you worry like that again. To make up for it, I'm gonna bang out a bunch of posts, so just prepare yourself for that.

This post is dedicated to those two brutally opposing forces, war and civility. Fitting title, eh? I know, I am that good. Back in March, Londontown was blessed with a guest appearance by the one and only Katie Boland, so of course we had to go a wee bit crazy. On the night she arrived, we decided to take some of her London-y advice and go to one of her favorite clubs, Mahiki. It was Polynesian themed, and the one thing that stands out more than anything about it: how good it smelled. Random, but very true. Here are some highlights from that evening:

-Katie Boland got into a dance off. There was some booty popping.

That's really the only highlight, but it made my night.

The next day, Megan, Allie, and I decided to mozy on over the Churchill War Rooms. We decided we needed a little testosterone in the mix and brought with us the one and only Craig Strauss. When we finally got there, after getting only very briefly lost (it's OK Megan, we forgive you), we went into the museum. It completely blew my mind. Definitely one of my favorite museums. Everything is left exactly how it was when the war ended and everyone just got up and went home. We saw everything from Churchill's private telephone to the sugar stash in one of the drawers. Here are some photos:

The structure of the bunker

The different thumbtacks used to mark movement

The bed Churchill used to nap in

That night we met back up with Katie, who brought us to her posh Notting Hill flat, where we dined on Thai food and snuggled on a sofa watching The Departed. It was during this evening that we all realized how much we missed being in a REAL HOUSE with furniture that isn't on wheels.

The next day we decided it was time for a real, official, high tea. It was an absolutely gorgeous day, so we strolled over to Hyde Park and met up with Katie at The Orangery at Kensington Palace. The light through the windows basically made the whole room glow and the tea and sandwiches we had were scrumptious. It was just a completely lovely afternoon, although we all felt like superdorks taking so many pictures of what we were eating. Here’s a smattering of those:

Sadly, after that splendid weekend, Katie had to return to the states, and we had to carry on with our normal lives, going to work four days a week, class once a week. Not a terribly exciting weekend, but definitely a wonderfully pleasant one.

Lewis Carroll: Adventures in Wonderland

With the release of Tim Burton's "Alice in Wonderland" happening this week (which I have yet to see) and the recent discoveries I have made about London simply by wandering through the streets, I can't help feeling like I've just fallen through a rabbit hole into a whole new London I didn't even know was there.

On Sunday, Megan, Allie, Lauren, and I decided to go to the British Museum. We got there with only an hour left before it closed, so we hurried straight to see the Rosetta Stone. None of us had realized how big it is and how itty bitty the writing is, so the significance of this big ole hunk of rock was made clear to all of us. We then headed upstairs to the Egyptian halls where we saw mummified...everything. People, of course, but also cats, alligators, falcons, eels, etc. Creepy? Yes. Fascinating? Double yes.

We also got to see one of the Bog People. I had learned about these ancient Britons who had been found in bogs throughout the British Isles in my English class in the earlier part of the semester. Seamus Heaney describes them in a series of poems, and after learning about them I really wanted to see what he was talking about. They're different from other preserved bodies becuase the pressure of the bog and peat has flattened them out, and the peat has turned their skin a purpley color. Most of them still have hair too, and they really just look like they fell asleep. It's eerie, especially when paired with the fact that no one knows why they are there. This was generally a pretty creepy trip, as you can see.

After all that death and rotting, the only thing we could think about, of course, was food. It struck us suddenly: we've never had a traditional English tea? We decided to have a little tea party in the British Museum, which was very lovely.

On Tuesday, my boss told me to just skip work because there wasn't really much for me to do, so I decided skip across the Thames and just enjoy the perfect weather along the South Bank. While I felt more than a little lonely just wandering along the Riverwalk without my little London family, it was really really nice to just be inside my own head for a while and people watch. I got off at the Westminster tube stop and meandered across the river, stopping along the way to watch a bagpiper and to take some photos of the river views. When I got across the water, I walked past the London Aquarium and the London Eye. Being in this area reminded me of the last time I was in London. I was much younger, and my family and I stayed just behind the Aquarium. Being there, along the river, was what first made me fall in love with London, and I swore to myself I would be back there some day. It's surreal to think that I had no idea of the amazing experience I'd be having now, years down the road, that I would actually keep that promise to myself.

As I walked along the riverside, I saw the dozens of street performers who stand like statues or who dance and play music and sing. I kept going, watching the other people watch the performers, and eventually came upon the famous skate park. It's covered in graffiti, as if the light got caught in this small covered cave and bounced around like a prism. Despite London being filled with famous museums and artwork, this is one of my favorite displays of art in the city.

I walked all the way down the river as far as I could go, until just before the Globe. I turned back around and decided to get some food at the restaurant that's connected to the BFI, as I had planned to see a movie there later. Outside the restaurant, there was a book market being set up, so I decided to peruse. One of my worst habits is not being able to leave a book store without buying something, so of course I walked away with something to read on the tube ride home.

Then it was finally time for my movie. The BFI is a huge building where they play all kinds of movies at all times of the day. There are current titles and classics, art films and blockbusters, and they have special events all the time celebrating different actors and directors. I had decided to go see Bright Star which is about the love story of John Keats and Fanny Brawne. It was absolutely stunning and I left the theater sniffling and wiping my eyes, feeling extremely single. Go see it. It's incredible.

Our next excursion was to Camden. We touched a wallaby.

What? You want more? How is that not enough for you? WE TOUCHED A WALLABY! How is that not the coolest thing ever? Alright. Well since you must know, Camden was full of other cool stuff too. There are just thousands of stalls selling everything from clothing to jewelry to shoes and it's all really cheap. We are definitely heading back to do some real shopping, because it was a little too cold to be outside for too long. We were also all tempted to come away with an extra peircing, just to say we were punks and rebels like the majority of people there, but we decided we love our parents too much to torture them with that. But there's still time...

We dined on some delicious chocolate and banana crepes and of course made an exotic new friend (I'm talking about the wallaby), and then decided to head home. Overall it was a very pleasant week that brought me into some very surreal situations, but isn't that what being in a foreign country is all about? Feeling like you're living in Wonderland?

Dante: Purgatorio

WARNING: THIS IS A VERY LONG POST. DO NOT START READING THIS IF YOU HAVE SOMEWHERE TO BE IN THE NEXT HOUR. ALSO WHEN READING, TAKE FREQUENT BREAKS AND DRINK PLENTY OF FLUIDS. GOTTA STAY HYDRATED YOU KNOW. OK. HERE WE GO. BRACE YOURSELF.

After my whirlwind adventure through Italia this past week, the only title that seemed fitting was one that truly encapsulated the highs and lows we all experienced and how we existed somewhere between heaven and hell. Don’t get me wrong, Italy was absolutely incredible, but some of us got to enjoy it more than others. But we’ll get to that.

The week started…rather suddenly. Megan and I woke up at 6am-which is the time our ride came to pick us up. I’ve never gotten dressed so fast in my life. But we made it to the car and headed to Gatwick for our flight to Venice. After a few hours of cramped sleep on the plane, we were awoken by the pilot announcing that we should all look out our windows. When we did, we saw the most gorgeous view of the Alps anyone could ask for. I have never wanted to be thrown from a plane so badly, so that I could land in the mountains and frolic. So beautiful.

We landed, and after some experimenting with Venetian public transportation and the labyrinthine streets, we made it to our hostel. We put down our stuff, grabbed some lunch, and began our trek to find the hub of Venetian life (and tourism), Piazza San Marco. Along the way, we were constantly reminded by the layer of confetti covering the streets that we had just barely missed the biggest holiday in all of Venice-dom, Carnival. We arrived in Piazza San Marco to discover that not all of the equipment from Carnival was taken down, so we got to see a little bit of what the night must have been like. We decided to walk through the Doge’s Palace on the Grand Canal, and we saw some lovely ceilings, some cool armor, and we walked across the Bridge of Sighs, where those going to prison or to get executed got their last look at the outside world.

Next we headed through some of the streets to seek out our first dose of gelato. We also wandered in and out of shops selling walls upon walls of Murano glass and Venetian lace. There were Carnival masks and costumes in every shop, and we all managed to find something pretty to bring home.

Of course, no trip to Venice would be complete without a ride on a gondola! We did some hard bargaining and got in a very teetery gondola with a gondolier who pretty much sat on Allie’s head to get to his station on the back of the boat. While it wasn’t the most comfortable boat ride I’ve ever taken, it was really quiet and mysterious, and we got to see some of the little streets and canals. It was completely serene and I felt like I was in a movie.

The next morning, we had a quick breakfast in our hostel with Megan’s sorority sister/ roommate, Katherine, and then we headed to the train station for our next stop, Florence.

We showed up after a very quick and picturesque train ride, and after a mishap involving Lauren’s passport, a McDonald’s, and some Italian policemen, we finally headed to our hostel. It was pretty wonderful, with a courtyard, a huge shower, and 2- count ‘em, 2- monkey blankets on each bed. Being reassured that we wouldn’t freeze that night, we headed right back out to find THE DUOMO. It’s right in the heart of the city and all of a sudden you see this huge dome looming over the streets. Right next-door is the Baptistry, featuring Ghiberti’s famous bronze doors. We wandered around inside the cathedral that the Duomo sits on top of, called Santa Maria del Fiore Cathedral, and then we scoured the surrounding area for the perfect gelato place. We accidentally paid 8 euros for a few scoops, but despite the stupid high prices, it was still delicious.

We then went to the Accademia in search of Michelangelo’s David. Tucked into a tiny museum, it towers over everything, and even after a 20 minute wait to get in, it was still pretty impressive. The detailed musculature and sheer scale of it were hard to wrap your head around, and watching the art students scattered around the floor using it as a model was really fun to watch. We may or may not have snuck a few forbidden pictures. Whoops…

The final tourist stop of the day was the San Lorenzo leather market. So. Cool. This little street is lined with hundreds of stalls selling wallets, purses, gloves, jackets, you name it, all made of leather. I made my first major purchase of the trip and splurged on a really, really nice leather jacket, which I haggled down to less that 100 euros. I was really proud of myself. And I look pretty sweet in it.

We went home, had some free pasta at our hostel, and then headed out to meet up with Lauren’s friend, Thea, from school. She took us to an aperitivo, where, if you buy one drink you get as much food as you want. So, so delicious. We walked along the River Arno, which was gorgeous at night, to a bar called Moyo, where it was disco night. I had a delicious drink called a Banana Moyo, which I must learn how to make, and then we decided to call it a night.

This is where the tragedy of my tale begins. In the middle of the night, Megan was stricken with illness, and was incapacitated for the whole next day. Not having her as we headed out for our final day in Florence was so upsetting, and we felt like there was a gap in our little family. Onward we pressed, sans one, and we headed to the Ponte Vecchio during the day. The minute you walk onto the bridge you are almost blinded by sparkly gold jewelry, and you are instantly reminded that you are a lowly, poor college student. But a girl can dream, can’t she?

We crossed over the bridge and found an adorable gift shop where we made a few significantly less expensive purchases, and then headed to the Palazzo della Signoria and the Palazzo Vecchio. Out in the courtyard is just a garden of marble and bronze statues, including a knockoff of the David. I couldn’t find the statue I had wanted to see of Judith and Holofernes (I don’t know how it’s possible to miss a huge bronze statue, but somehow I managed), so I guess my memories from my Art History textbooks will have to suffice.

We made our way into the palace where the Medici family pretty much ran Florence. Essentially we were walking through the house of the original Italian mob. There were some pretty amazing rooms where they held meetings, and walls covered in frescoed maps.

When we came outside it was raining, so we scurried across the piazza and headed into a restaurant with a great lunch deal. Afterwards, we trudged through the rain to the Basilica di Santa Croce, outside of which stands a gigantic statue of Dante, who is basically a Florentine national hero. I let my inner Lit dork escape and took one or two...dozen… pictures in front of it. But I refuse to apologize. It was neat. And since everyone else in our merry band of travelers refused to visit his house, this was the closest I would get to being in his presence. Or was it?

Inside is where some of the greatest Italians of all time are buried. It was like the Renaissance red carpet for dead people. Unfortunately, the jackhammering going on every 5 seconds constantly interrupted the peace of the church, and Dante’s grave was obscured by tarps and scaffolding, but we did get to see the graves of Machiavelli, Michelangelo, and Galileo, which was pretty unbelievable. There were some lovely little chapels and a pretty courtyard, but being in the same space as the world’s most famous thinkers and creators (despite their deadness) trumped everything else.

Michelangelo's grave

Galileo's grave

We got to see the tiny leather school that was attached to the church, which was nice, and then we marched back out into the weather (got some gelato) and once again to THE DUOMO.

We decided to test our endurance and shed a few of those gelato pounds by climbing the 463 steps to the top of the Dome. It started off easy, but after about step, oh I don’t know, 15, my legs started to burn. I should be embarrassed to admit that, but I’m not because I didn’t let it stop me, and after climbing the twisting and narrow stairwells and of course taking a lot of breaks, we arrived at the top of dome to the most breathtaking views of Florence. Just enjoy…

We eventually had to head back down to Earth, and we returned to the hostel to check on our sickypoo. She seemed to be doing a little better, so we made preparations to leave for Rome as planned the next day. In the morning, we jumped back on the train and showed up in Roma. We dropped our stuff off at the hostel and jumped into a cab to head to Vatican City. Before we went within the walls, we had some delicious Sicilian food. Then we headed into the country within a city, and bolted for the Sistine Chapel, my number one favorite piece of artwork in the whole world, for fear that it would close before we got to see it. But never fear, we basically ran through the rest of the museum and entered into the chapel. Call me a loser, but I may have shed a tear or two. Then my Art History lectures started ringing in my ears and I started reciting little facts about the ceiling, like the mirror imagery between drunken Noah and Adam as he is given life, and in what aspects Michelangelo’s dislike of Catholicism came through.

We had to say goodbye to the chapel and made our way to St. Peter’s Basilica. On the way we passed some Swiss Guards who had some sweet hats. We headed into the basilica, and wandered around looking at the artifacts that had been collected over thousands of years. We saw the burial place of the world’s first pope, Peter himself, and we touched a magic foot belonging to a statue of St. Peter. We thought Megan should touch the foot to get healed, but we figured the combination of the germs that are probably festering all over that foot and the fact that she’s Jewish would both be working against her, so we decided to just continue to rely on medicine.

All of a sudden, a commotion erupted in the cathedral. We heard shallow chanting and a crowd start to arrange itself, making way for someone who was clearly very important. Being the day before Lent started, we naturally assumed we were about to see Pope Ben himself, but all of a sudden a cardinal shuffled through the basilica! Everyone stood very quiet, and all I could think of as he scuttled by was Angels and Demons and the possibility that I might have to save him from an evil plot by the Carmelengo. And now I want to watch that movie. Great.

After all that Catholic excitement (which I’m sure my Mom is reading about right now and getting very jealous of), we needed a break and headed back to our oh-so-lovely hostel for a brief nap before dinner. When we woke up, we wandered to a fancy Roman restaurant and had some legit food, and then wandered to a nearby piazza where we stumbled up, I kid you not, the greatest cannolis known to man. I think back onto that cannoli and I want to weep. It was incredible. Cannoli gods, I thank you for granting me such deliciousness.

The next day started with a delicious pastry breakfast and cappuccinos delivered to our rooms. With such a good start, there’s no way the day could be bad. The sun was shining as we headed on our Hop-On-Hop-Off bus tour of Rome. Our first stop was the Piazza di Spagna, home to the famed Spanish Steps. We took dozens of pictures at different locations on the steps, and just enjoyed the Italian sun for a while. Once again, I let my Lit nerdiness get the best of me and found myself enthralled by the fact that literally, right next door to the Spanish Steps was the building that John Keats died in. Not a bad place to die, I think.

The plaque commemorating John Keats' death.

We jumped back on the bus to our next stop, the Pantheon. Being surrounded by the history of the building and remembering how the Romans were in fact an ancient people, the building, once again smothered in restoration scaffolding, took on a whole new significance for me that it didn’t have when I first saw it on my 8^th grade Latin trip. Outside the Pantheon there were a bunch of restaurants offering deals for lunch, so we sat outside and enjoyed our last pizzas for a long time while listening to an amazing street performer dazzle the crowd with opera singing. He was amazing, and if he becomes famous some day soon, I wouldn’t be surprised. And you guys will be so jealous.

We hopped off the bus next, but only briefly, at the Circus Maximus, where the ancient Romans held there chariot races a la Ben Hur, and then moved on to our next, and my personal favorite stop of the afternoon, Trevi Fountain. Even amid the crowds of tourists and the countless hungry pigeons, the fountain was stunning. The stone seemed to move with the same fluidity and vibrancy as the water that ran through it. Naturally, we all had to make wishes, and each of us tossed a coin into the fountain hoping for different things. Then we bought a few more scoops of gelato and just sat by the fountain, watching the water and the people and even those nasty little pigeons, not really wanting to move.

But of course, we eventually had to hop back on the bus, because there was one last stop that we couldn’t leave Rome without seeing: The Colosseum. Our bus, which was supposed to come every 15 minutes ended up coming to get us after 35, but we eventually made it to the home of the gladiatorial matches that Rome was famous for. None of us really felt like spending 8 Euros to see the inside when we could simply peek through the different entranceways and see snippets of what we were missing. Plus, we were wholly satisfied with the grandeur of the building from the outside.

Finally it was time to head back to the train station, pick up our bags which we had dropped off at a luggage storage place, and get on the Leonardo express to catch our flight back to what seemed like the dreariest country on Earth after the vibrancy, culture, and not to mention the beautiful weather that we got to experience in Italy.

By now we’ve returned, Megan has made a full recovery, and we’ve begun the grueling internship phase of our time here. But things can only move up from here, as they naturally must when you are in Purgatorio.