Awkward Transitions: Cattle Cars, Bipolar Heaters, and Electricity Switches

Since I've finished all of my readings for tonight and I know that I'm going to the library tomorrow to be productive and research for my dissertation, I thought I'd write a bit because I haven't in a while.  Even if no one else reads my blog, I know that my mother, sister-in-law, aunt, and cousin do, and it's fun to write something trivial when I know that most everything else I write this year with be overly analyzed, picked apart, and criticized.  So here's some random things that have been on my mind in the month that I've lived here in London.

Public Transportation is fantastic!  If there was one European innovation that I could bring back with me to the States to make life infinitely better there, it would be a really efficient, easy-to-follow, nation-wide public transportation system.  Now, I know you might be thinking about how much you love the freedom of being able to hop into your car and drive right up to the door of wherever it is you're going, or even drive across an entire country without changing cars, buying tickets, or hauling your baggage around.  Americans love our independence and freedom, and mass transportation just seems a little herd-like to us.  But just imagine yourself in that #Freedom car in the middle of rush hour traffic, yelling along to the radio to distract yourself from the fact that you've moved five feet in half an hour, then unexpectedly braking for the idiot who just pulled right out in front of you while ignoring the idiots who are now honking behind you for braking, all while trying to read confusing road signs that point off in contradictory directions in the middle of downtown Dallas.  Yeah, Ive been there too.

 The Tube has none of that.  Instead, you see calm commuters listening to music, reading a book or a newspaper, or working on a puzzle.  I've seen parents smiling while watching their toddler play peek-a-boo with his neighbors and a man helping his little boy read a book aloud on his way home from school.  Sounds idyllic, right?  Lots of people sleep.  I'll never understand Londoners' capacity to sleep on the Tube and wake up with perfect timing at their own stop.  I watched a guy the other day, dead asleep, his head propped back against the window, mouth hanging open, snoring very softly and not even twitching as each stop was announced and people entered and exited the carriage.  I thought for sure this guy was in trouble and he'd find himself rudely awakened at the final destination having missed his own stop long ago.  But, when the time came, as if to an alarm, the guy jerked awake as his stop was announced, picked up his backpack and and waited for the doors to open.  It's like magic.  It's some weird form of British superpower.  I never fail to be mesmerized.

Traveling by Tube is, of course, not always perfect.  Sometimes a line shuts down, or the trains are delayed, or you find yourself crammed between 10 people and staring at a stranger's armpit, but mostly its relaxing not to have to worry about getting from place to place.  You can relax, listen to music, and trust that the Tube will get you (most of the way) there, (pretty much) on time and in (relative) comfort.  Every time I take it, I wonder why we can't figure this out.

The only exception I've seen to the niftiness and convenience of public transportation (or really just getting around London in general) is the lack of accommodation for the elderly and people with babies.  The other day I saw a VERY elderly lady, her arms loaded with grocery sacks, bent over at a nearly 90 degree angle from osteoporosis, trying slowly and torturously to climb long flights of stairs at a Tube station with no escalators.  A man stopped her and asked if she'd like some help, but she said she was fine.  She was huffing and puffing by the time she reached the top.  It was painful to watch.   I've also seen women have to ask for help to carry baby strollers up and down flights of stairs or miss a train because there was no room for the stroller to fit.  So, maybe more elevators or ramps would be useful.  But, all in all, I'd happily trade my car for their Tube system, busses, and trains.  Oh, also there are cheap budget airlines in abundance.  So there's that.

Electricity is weird in the UK.  When I first got here to my apartments, I immediately plugged in my computer using my outlet converters and was dismayed when I couldn't get the thing to charge.   I unplugged it and plugged it back in, changed the convertor, and checked the connections.  Nothing.  Nada.  Then I realized that beside every outlet there's an on/off switch, like a light switch, which activates the electricity for the outlet.  It makes sense from an energy-saving point of view, but it's a completely foreign concept to an American.  And I didn't catch on to it quickly.  A week later I bought a new hair dryer, plugged it in and switched it on.  Silence.  I banged on it (like you do...).  I tried a few more switches.  Nothing.  I unplugged it and replugged it.  I cursed at it.  It finally dawned on me and I felt like a moron.  Oh yeah...  Ditto for the stove and appliances in the kitchen.

Heaters in England are illogical and infuriating.  As far as I can figure out, the heater only works for an hour at a time.  To run it, you flip on the electricity to the outlet, press the button on the front, and get an hour of heat which you can adjust warmer or cooler.  It goes off after an hour.  Your room slowly gets colder again just gradually and insidiously enough that death by hypothermia could potentially take you by surprise, and you have to hit the button again.  Mornings are worse.  There you are in your comfy pocket of body-heated duvet mound, snug and asleep.  Then the alarm goes off and you have to get up to take a shower.  The ambient temperature of the room is subarctic, and the heater is all the way across the room.  You screw up your courage and lunge toward it, the frigid air like a sudden polar plunge into a Nordic lake.  You hit the button and dive back under the covers until the tetanus-like shuttering stops and it's finally warm enough to take a shower without risking frostbite.  It isn't even fully winter yet.   At the moment, my classes are freezing, but I've been told that when it gets really cold, they finally turn the heaters on at campus and then we'll all be sweltering.  Possibly for an hour at a time.

Finally, after a month here in London,  I must be starting to look like I know what I'm doing.  I can't tell you how many times in the last few weeks I've been stopped by someone asking for directions who then seems surprised when I start speaking in a very obviously not British accent.  It's fun.  Especially when I know the answer.

A Guided Tour of Central London

To say that my feet are sore would be the wildest understatement in recent history.  Every single muscle from the tip of my toes to the top of my hips is currently screaming in agony, and I have aches in places I didn't even know existed.  I'll refrain from going into gruesome detail about the blisters.  You're welcome.    

I have walked a bazillion miles (only a slight exaggeration) around central London today, so I'll give you a guided tour to make my pain more worthwhile.  I can't even begin to describe emphatically enough how deliriously happy I am with my newly adopted city!  

I live in Southwark, which is borough of London south of the Thames.  From my apartments, I can walk about a mile and a half to campus on the north bank of the river via Blackfriars Bridge.   The Thames is a tidal river and changes dramatically from one hour to the next.  Perhaps because of the tide, it is always windy and cooler while walking across the bridges, and I can't help but stop to watch the constant stream of tour boats, yachts, and barges making their way up and down the river, and admire the cityscape and the towering London Eye, which sends its passengers 443 ft. into the air for stunning view of the city. 

 During low tide, the muddy banks are exposed, and artifact hunters called mudlarks can be seen scouring the river banks for whatever bits of London's ancient history that the tides churn up- 2,000 years of debris tossed or lost into its depths, from Roman coins to Victorian pipes.  These mudlarks' treasures add to the Museum of London's already extensive collection.  Today, there was a sand sculpting competition in progress, and people were in the process of building some stunning artwork which would be swallowed back into the tide in a matter of hours (see pictures below).  

From campus, Trafalgar Square is only a fifteen minute walk down the Strand.  Dominated by the towering Nelson's Column (commemorating Admiral Lord Nelson's death at the Battle of Trafalgar during the Napoleonic Wars), and four gigantic lions (perpetually crawling with children- and a few adults- posing for pictures as brave conquerers of the mighty beasts), the square is home to two un-missable art galleries- the National Gallery, and the National Portrait Gallery.  

To the west, through the Admiralty Arch, the Mall lead toward Buckingham Palace- the "road not taken" today.  Instead, I headed south toward the Thames again, to make my way toward the Houses of Parliament and Westminster Abbey past the buildings of Whitehall.

At Westminster Bridge, this magnificent statue of Boudicca, a queen of the British Iceni who led an unsuccessful but inspiring revolt against the occupying Romans, stands guard over Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament.  Technically known as the Palace of Westminster (as it was once the residence of the King's of England), the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben are most picturesque when viewed from the South Bank of the Thames, and at night, when the buildings and clock tower are beautifully lit.

As I arrived at Westminster Cathedral to a spectacular setting sun peeking through the 11th century towers, I unfortunately found it closed for the day, so I toured the outside, and I'll have to come back another time.  Boo!

On my way back home, I decided to walk the South Bank of the Thames all the way to Tower Bridge and the Tower of London (2.3 miles).

Sand sculpture contest along the South Bank of the Thames

Along the way, I passed St. Paul's Cathedral...

and Shakespeare's Globe, a reconstruction of Shakespeare's Elizabethan Globe Theater, which burned in a fire in 1613.  During the summer, you can view one of Shakespeare's masterpieces, either from one of the covered, tiered wooden seats around the edge of the circular theater, or while standing in the central yard in front of the stage as a discount-ticketed "groundling".

Near the Globe, you can pop in for a pint at The Anchor Bankside, the sole surviving inn from Shakespearean times, frequented by actors and playwrights of the time.  The current construction dates to 1676.

You can also tour The Golden Hinde- a replica of the ship on which Sir Francis Drake circumnavigated the world in 1580.

Just south of London Bridge stands Southwark Cathedral, the oldest gothic church in London, dating to the 12th century and the era of William the Conquerer.  I hear that the candlelit Christmas Carol service is hauntingly beautiful and will leave you with goosebumps.  I hope to find out.

Finally, when my legs had all but given out, and I fervently believed that I might perish from exhaustion, I found myself at tower bridge, peering across the Thames at the Tower of London, fortress of William the Conquerer, dating to 1078 at its earliest construction.  It was also prison to some of the most famous characters of British history.  I suggest finding a seat in the little park on the South Bank and rewarding yourself with a 99 Flake (a soft-serve ice cream cone served with a Cadbury Flake chocolate).

In all, I estimate that I traversed around seven miles, not counting the time spent milling around in each destination, and I am exhausted.  I'll leave you with these pictures of the South Bank at night, which I took on the night of the pub-on-a-boat.