Note: this was originally posted to Fisch and Chips on November 20, 2013. I would title it "I <3 London," but I can't due to Blogspot's HTML limitations.
Remember way back in September (“Vertigo,” for those who missed it), when I observed that class-filled Wednesdays were most likely to be uneventful and would result in virtually no blog posts (and then promptly wrote a blog post about my adventures with the Monument that particular Wedenesday)? Well, as today showed, I am terrible at predicting the future, as I became a lot more familiar with London in two equally engrossing ways on this busy Wednesday: politically and visually!
I woke up early this morning and headed to City Hall, where I was scheduled to meet with my politics class. Being my usual extra-cautious self (three words: King’s Cross fiasco), I arrived an hour early and spent a good deal of time stuffing my face with potato crisps and mocha. We were there to watch the Mayor’s Question Time meeting, where members of the London Assembly sat down with the Mayor of London, Boris Johnson (known to many Londoners as “Boris” or “Bojo”) and ruthlessly questioned him about the recent rise in cyclist fatalities and what he was planning to do about it. It was more in-your-face British politics (coupled with an interesting discussion/debate with a dedicated supporter of Boris I had before Question Time) and I loved every minute of it!
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| City Hall |
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| Question Time with Bojo |
One last thing I’d like to throw out there: Of all the feisty antagonists grilling Bojo today, the one that stood out the most was a woman by the name of Jenny Jones, a Green Party politician who, as I later found out through research, is a baroness in the House of Lords. She was the definition of both tenacity (for never backing down) and nuisance (for the exact same reason), constantly hounding Bojo and demanding apologies for his uncivil behavior. Because of this…performance, my AHA friends and I have now decided to make “Jenny Jones” a colloquial phrase to describe a tenacious scrapper who doesn’t know when to quit. To anyone reading this, please start using this phrase and spread the word. Alright, I’ll stop being a Jenny Jones and return to the story.
After returning from City Hall and sitting through theater class (which was especially excellent today, as I got a smiley face on my second quiz and learned that Shakespeare may have had an American accent), I was off with history to visit one of London’s most iconic buildings, St. Paul’s Cathedral! I had already seen the outside of this impressive structure, but this time, we actually got to go inside. I must say, in regards to interior quality, St. Paul’s actually comes pretty close to Notre Dame--it’s absolutely huge and everything seems to be made of gold and marble. Unfortunately, photography of any kind was forbidden inside, so you’ll have to take my word for it (You’ll also have to take my word that there is a giant nude statue of Napoleon ins…I’m just kidding--that’s at Apsley House, the Duke of Wellington’s residence). It was here, at St. Paul’s Cathedral, where I embarked on my next ambitious climb…the cathedral itself! Along the way, we passed the Whispering Gallery, a circular chamber where two people with their faces up to the wall can communicate entirely through whispers, even if they are quite far from each other (it's really trippy; ou’ll have to take my word for it). This meant A LOT of stairs. REALLY, A LOT (you’ll have to take my word for it)! There was no certificate this time, but I was rewarded…with breathtaking views of the London skyline (which I was allowed to photograph)!
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| the Thames and the Globe |
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| the Old Bailey |
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| panorama |
After climbing down from the cathedral’s upper levels (more stairs…whee), our group went downwards, into the cathedral’s nicely lit crypt, containing the tombs of the Duke of Wellington, Horatio Nelson, and Sir Christopher Wren, the architect behind the cathedral (he had no monument; a plaque in Latin claimed that the cathedral itself was his monument), along with others. My head filled with fascination, my heart filled with wonder, and my legs filled with soreness, I left the cathedral thrilled, having enjoyed yet another one-of-a-kind experience.
All in all, this was a lovely day!…
…Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to need to rest my legs. I’ve got a big weekend coming up…
Modern reflections:
Ah, innocent 2013. When I spoke with Boris Johnson's social media manager (the dedicated supporter I mention here), she boasted that Boris was an amazing politician to work for and predicted that he would be Prime Minister one day. After watching his spat with Jenny Jones, I returned to the university center and relayed parts of this conversations to some Londoners. They laughed off the idea of Boris becoming Prime Minister because (1) he'd need to run for Parliament first and (2) the Conservative Party would likely keep his national ambitions in check. Obviously, none of us could have predicted that over the next ten years Bojo would rise to national prominence, get elected to Parliament, spearhead Britain's exit from the European Union, become Prime Minister as part of a global trend of populist demagogues rising to power, mishandle a global pandemic through reckless partying, and resign in shame. The future is hard to predict, and it can be absolutely insane when you take a step back.
Unlike Bojo, The Right Honourable Baroness Jenny Jones has mostly remained in obscurity. Given that she isn't synonymous with borderline authoritarianism and incompetent governance, I think she came out ahead here. I'm still trying to get her name to catch on as a colloquial phrase.
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