Fischberg Flashback 10: Octoberfest

Note: this was originally posted to Fisch and Chips on October 4, 2013.  A few small edits have been made, mostly in regards to grammar.

Well, it’s a new month.  It’s pretty hard to believe that nearly a whole month has passed since I first arrived in Great Britain, but September has left and October has rolled in, guns a-blazing.

One somewhat nice change that this month has brought is an end to my illness…sort of.  The British germs in my system seem to taken their leave, as my nose isn’t stuffed and I don’t feel absolutely miserable anymore, but I’m still plagued by occasional violent fits of coughing, which are a bit of a nuisance in class.  I’m keeping the cough under control with cough syrup, but hopefully I’ll be completely healed soon.

On Monday, the last day of September, I made another mandatory theatrical excursion, this time to the National Theater to see The Tragedy of Othello, the Moor of Venice.  Unlike the Globe, the National Theater is a modern, state-of-the-art theater, complete with modern lighting and the ability to actually sit down while watching plays, regardless of social status.  Reflecting the venue, this particular showing of Othello was in a somewhat modern setting, as all of the soldiers wore modern military uniforms and all of the action on Cyprus takes place in what appears to be a modern army base.  This setting allowed the raw emotions and themes of the play to stand out, making the play quite a fascinating experience.  For those that don’t know/remember Othello, it’s a play that starts off with an elopement and ends up with three corpses in a bed.  Needless to say, things don’t go well.  There’s also racism and an @$$hole named Iago thrown in the mix.  It’s a good play; look it up.

On Wednesday, my history class went out on a field trip to Westminster Abbey, the massive, majestic church located at Parliament Square that I had seen the outside of, but had yet to go inside.  I braced myself to see the actual spots of coronations and royal funerals…

…aaaand then we found out that we weren’t allowed in that day.  That was a bit of a buzz-kill.  Not to be deterred from sightseeing, we visited the Priory Church of St. Bartholomew the Great and the Guildhall Art Gallery, both of which were beautiful in their own way.  However, the real highlight for me was a plaque I found that marked the place of execution for Sir William Wallace.  For those who haven’t seen Braveheart and aren’t caught up on British history, William Wallace was a Scottish noble who helped lead organized Scottish resistance when the English invaded Scotland in the 1290s (It’s actually a long and complicated story that involved fighting over the Scottish crown and civil war almost breaking out.) and was particularly well-known for his victory at the Battle of Stirling Bridge.  In 1305, he was arrested by English forces, detained in London, tried at Westminster Hall, convicted of high treason and war crimes, and hanged, drawn, and quartered (for those curious about what that process entails, I’ll be bringing it up in a future post).  As an execution site, this spot naturally appealed to me.

Normally, this would just be another stop on the CJP (Yes, I’m using a handy dandy acronym now.) that I would write about and be done with.  However, as I was researching Wallace’s execution, I discovered that the place in question that I had just been to was none other than Smithfield!  What’s so special about Smithfield?  Highlight away!  It was a marketplace in the City of London that also hosted tournaments and public executions.  The executions ranged from the drawing and quartering of traitors (as mentioned previously) to the burning of heretics.  Most gruesomely, during the European Renaissance, poisoners were boiled alive here.  Upon realizing that I had just ignored one of London’s premier places of interest (for me), I resolved that I would return to Smithfield, investigate the area, and take some decent pictures in the process.

My opportunity came sooner than I hoped, as on Thursday, I was without obligations outside of classes.  As such, I took the Tube back to Smithfield and retraced my steps, finding both the William Wallace plaque and a small park that appears to commemorate where the actual scaffold may have been constructed for executions.  Unfortunately, as I explored the park, I discovered a sign telling me that in order to photograph or film in the park, I would have to file a form with the City of London.  Not wanting to get tied up with bureaucracy or to get in trouble with the local authorities, I left with a heavy heart and with no pictures.  As I settled back in Eastcote, I decided to actually research the park’s photography policy online (which, in retrospect, I should have done before).  There, I found out that that policy is intended for companies and the like, and that private individuals such as myself can take as many pictures as desired.

It was for this reason that I made my third visit to Smithfield in a week.  There, I finally felt as if I could truly enjoy this historic spot, and I took as many pictures as possible to my heart’s content.

The West Smithfield Rotunda Garden, the center of attention

The West Smithfield Rotunda Garden, featuring a spectacled student

Central Market, located just off the side of Smithfield

What a week!  Along with my Smithfield escapades (and my experiences in the English nightlife, which has involved mixing ice cream and gin and tonic on the advice of an elderly pub regular and receiving/giving a thumbs-up to a troupe of young women all wearing blue make-up and dressed like Smurfette), I’ve also been assigned my first few major paper assignments, meaning that the honeymoon is over…sort of.  In truth, although I am concerned about finding books for my history paper, I’m not particularly frightened of any of my current papers…but just to be safe, I’ll probably spend the weekend working and sleeping.  Sightseeing will have to wait…

One final note before closing up this post: remember those little jingly bells attached to my bag that I got from the police?  While they’ve done an excellent job of preventing larceny, they’ve also gotten on my nerves a tad.  As such, I’ve taken them off and will leave them off for the foreseeable future.

Good night!

Modern thoughts:

Although it was brought up a few times by my classmates (and some of my classmates did some traveling to Bavaria to take part), I never got around to Octoberfest while I was in Europe.

At the same time, this was around the time I was regularly taking part in London nightlife with my friends.  We usually would go to one of four Wetherspoon pubs all near Tube stations (J.D. Wetherspoon is a British chain of pubs).  I'd get a bowl of chips (or fries, if you will), an ice cream sundae (which can in fact be ordered at a Wetherspoon) and either a Guiness or gin and tonic (both on long nights).  As noted in this post, one of the most memorable incidents occurred when I mixed my gin and tonic into my sundae after being dared to do so by a friendly pub regular.  It wasn't bad; it felt like chocolate milk with a kick!  I'd usually drink and chat until 9:30 or 10 and would usually be the first in the party to head home.  My signature sign-off which always amused my friends was "Good night everyone!  Drink responsibly, drive safe, and remember to use a condom!"  If I ever start hitting up bars with friends here in the States, I might bring it back...

Speaking of drinking in the States, I've always felt that English drinking culture is more pleasant, relaxed, and social than my experiences here in American bars.  Upon further thought, I think it might have more to do with the people I used to drink with, as my classmates were persistently pleasant people who I usually had things in common to discuss.

I don't believe I cover it much in later posts, but I would later go to Central Market with my history class.  It felt like Seattle's Pike Place Market on steroids.