London: Day Two

Let’s start this post with some random Kyle quotes.

 Kyle: This is why you wear shorts. I was never wearing shorts and was like, “Oh my, my shorts accidentally flew up!”

Ann: You’d be horrified if I really died.
Kyle: I would be horrified. At the amount of paperwork I’d have to do.

            Today, we started the day with a “slap-up” English breakfast, served by the Romanian waitresses at the bed and breakfast (who asked about my bag. What can I say? I’m famous). We then took the tube to Tower Hill and saw the Tower of London, the “Gherkin”, the Shard, City Hall, and Tower Bridge. When Kyle saw a roped-off section of ancient architecture, he lamented, “Why can’t we go down there? They let birds down there. And birds poop on it. (Pause) I wouldn’t poop on it.”

            We then toured the Tower. We wanted to take a beefeater-led tour, but it had started to rain, and, as Kyle said, they must melt or something, because they cancelled the tours due to rain.. So, we toured ourselves, reading about the ridiculous (a polar bear they would keep on a leash and let swim in the Thames to catch fish), to the grisly (Edward tortured and drowned in a barrel of wine). We then saw the crown jewels (the crowns, scepter, orb, etc.) and Kyle said the following.

Kyle: (of the spoon used to anoint the monarch) I bet the queen eats Count Chocula with that thing. It’s what I would do. (By the way, the spoon is the oldest thing in the Crowned Jewels).

Kyle: (of the giant golden punch bowl used in the banquet) M and Ms. One of every color. [Note: Kyle read this and corrected: M and Ms in the ‘thingers to the left.’ Punch bowl=lemonade]

            We left the Tower, crossed Tower Bridge, and saw London Bridge (really…nothing special, but I did sing the song!).

            Next was Borough Market, an open air market with lots of produce, bites to eat, etc. Kyle and I both liked this. We got to try black pudding and wild boar. We then went and saw the New Globe Theater and the Tate Modern. Kyle agreed to going into the museum, so I got to see some Picasso, Klee, Kandinsky, Braque, Matisse, etc. Kyle alternated between sarcasm (“See this empty space? Art.”) and wandering around with a bewildered expression on his face (“Everything looks like piles of poo.” To be honest, a lot of it did look like poo).

            Afterwards, we crossed the Millennium Footbridge and went to St. Paul’s Cathedral (beautiful), and then took the tube to the British Museum, which Kyle liked better (and so did I). Saw the ancient Syrian, Babylonian, Persian, Mesopotamian, Egyptian, Medieval, Greek, Roman, and Chinese exhibits. My favorite was the Egyptian, especially with the mummies. Kyle continued his art commentary. He had a theory for why the statues had lost parts (“Somebody didn’t like this guy. So they chopped his statue’s nose off.” “He lost his arm in the war. So they chopped the arm off of his statue to be accurate.”) Kyle also said concerning the museum, “Basically, Ann sees a naked guy and runs up to take a picture.”

            When I conceded to leaving, Kyle wanted to find a bathroom. But he kept leading us to more exhibits, which I then got to see. I think Kyle secretly wanted to see more of the museum, but didn’t want to admit it. Pretty sneaky sis.

            Kyle’s favorite pieces seemed to be the Hercules head (“He’s roiding out.”) and a statue of a Chinese god (“He looks like he’s seriously rockin’ out”). My favorites were the mummies, the head of Augustin, and the discus thrower.

            After the museum, we went back to the bed and breakfast to gather ourselves. It had been pouring all day, so I needed to towel off.

            We then went to see Abbey Road Studios, and walk the Abbey Road zebra crossing (an interesting game of ducking cars). Afterwards, we went to Kings Cross Station to see it and Platform 9 ¾, where we got our pictures taken pushing a fake cart into  a wall.

            Finally, we went to eat at an English pub, Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese, a chop house rebuilt in 1667 after the London fire. Located on Fleet Street, it has a lot of character, including a sign that says that only gentlemen would be served at this bar (still there for historical purposes) and signs that remind patrons of past famous clientele (Charles Dickens, etc.). Kyle continued his art commentary, looking at a painting and declaring it “an abstract representation of ‘he who smelt it, dealt it.’”

            Just wanted to pause here to note that I’ve been writing off and on for 2 days and am currently on a very bumpy ride to Liverpool. Kyle is asleep beside me, after swearing that he wouldn’t since he slept almost all the way to Stonehenge this morning. He’s living up to to sleepy cousin. Oh, and the score is mullets: 4 and manpris: 3. Back to the story.

            Picking up where I left off, for dinner last night, I got steak and kidney pudding and bubble and squeak. Kyle got beef wellington and yorkshire puddings. Grades: Steak and kidney pie: B+, bubble and squeak: C- (Kyle: It’s like a little kid thing, to stick your vegetables in mashed potatoes or whatever”), yorkshire pudding: A-, beef wellington: B+. The next morning, I stated, “I feel full of kidney. More than the usual two.” Kyle made me report that.

            We went back to the hotel and planned for Stonehenge.