Greetings, England- Day 24: Trekking around in London and some more of Being Lost

Rise and shine!

Although I failed this part since I “intuitionally” chose to sleep in even when my host dad gave me a morning call.

It was an eventful day, I can first assure, where I was spending forty minutes just because I still trusted the Internet so much and striving really hard to look for a toilet.

Oh, wait, I mean, a day of museums visiting and next-to-the-river strolling. A bit of optimism makes your day upbeat and wonderful!

Okay, enough of unnecessary sarcasm that only I appreciate.

My host dad took me to the national railway in Milton Keynes and bought me a one-day pass ticket. I wasn’t quite sure if it was expensive or not, as it cost about twenty-one pounds per ticket. I took the Midland ticket (though I was not quite sure what that was supposed to mean) and according to the chart, it would take about forty minutes until we arrived in Euston, a place in London. I was enjoying the train trip in the first few minutes until I realized that there was something wrong with my memory card in my cell phone. For a day that needed a lot of pictures taken for one’s blog, it was quite a big problem (euphemism!). I was fidgeting all the way on the train ride and fortunately got it worked out.

With the app that my host dad told me to install, I got the route I need to take for my first underground-in-England experience.

Inside the underground station.

They have leaning cushions!

The British Museum was the closest to the Russel Square Station, and it requires two transfers. The directions were really straightforward, with the north/east/south/westbound signs along with a chart of all the passing stations on the way.
It was not a long way, but I soon found my steps to the British Museum. Across the street of the Museum, I saw something that definitely came from Taiwan: Coco drinks shop. Woah. The attraction was real! I went inside for a drink that cost four times cheaper if you had bought it in Taiwan. It tasted like home, for the record.

The exterior of the Great British Museum; security check needed.

Finally, for the actual trip inside the museum. I queued for the security check and paid two pounds for the map and directory. Which section did I check out first? The Greek! There were many parts of it, and I lingered at all of them for a lot of time. Basically, more than sixty percent of the time was spent checking them out! I watched closely, at the postures of the figures on the vases or the pythoses; their belongings, and their interactions with the other figures, trying to find out what stories they were trying to depict.

Goddess of war and wisdom

I can recognize my favorite goddess, Athena almost everywhere, for she has the distinctive image of a goddess wearing a war armor with weapons. Artemis, the Huntress in the Silver moon also had weapons, but it would mostly be bows and arrows, whereas Athena often holds a spear. With the copper or bronzed small statues, I was able to recognize a lot of the honored gods and goddesses: Hera with her peacock, Zeus with his throne, and so on. It was a sense of accomplishment I felt when I could correctly name the gods/goddesses.

There was also a whole section with pythoses that have the deed of Herakles, or Hercules had done, essentially came from the wrath of Hera towards Zeus. Okay… It was an exceptionally complicated and convoluted story to explain, but I think I am going to try my best to get it done easily.

Herakles was the son of Zeus and … I have to think for a while (not entirely my fault for who knows how many mistresses did Zeus have?)

And Hera was (as usual) infuriated by this whole situation, and when Herakles grew up, she cast a spell on him to make him (temporarily) delusional and killed his children and wife. Realizing what he had done was inexcusable, he confronted the Oracle and saw that all he could do for salvation was to complete twelve almost-impossible tasks. Note that some of the challenges might seem simple, but most of the creatures involved have traits such as man-eating, basically-immortal, feather-shaped ammunition and so on. (It was mythology, so everything was possible)

Unique set of jar collection

Herakles bringing Cerberus from Hades

Herakles and the doe of Artemis

Herakles ad the fight between the Amazons, for the belt of the Queen, I suppose

He managed to finish all of them, and that was why he was so well known! While other heroes completed one or two tasks, he accomplished twelve! Interestingly, one of his tasks, the one where he had to kill the Nemean Lion was the one that made him easy to be spotted. The skin of the lion, according to legend, was impenetrable. Herakles had to kill it by sticking his sword all the way up to the lion’s throat. He then used its claws to cut the skin off and made himself an armor made of lion hide, and for that reason, when you see a man in lion’s fur, Herakles is your choice for wild guesses.

Beheaded tragedies.

Heads; fragile particles

I then went to another section with Greek/Roman or Helenic displays. It had a lot of statues. It showed the great postures, the define features in the facial details and the beauty the people saw in human right then, even with the destroyed parts, they were mesmerizing nonetheless.

I loved the parts where I could make connections, with, while the other exhibitions were not bad, but I went through them rather more quickly, for I still have others places in my mind that I had to go to.

Another display that halted my steps was the Rosetta Stone. It was a monument made during the reigning of Alexander. With Persian (was it Persian? Or was it common Egyptian?), Egyptian Hieroglyphs and Greek carved onto the same stone, it somehow symbolized the combination and the possible interactions between diverse cultures. Not to mention that this stone was crucial to decipher the mysterious hieroglyphs the archaeologists had a hard time understanding. It was fascinating about how much value a piece of rock can bring. Therefore, I had spent some money on the merch for the Rosetta Stone.

I got a foam model of this from the gift shop!

What now? Lunch time!

I actually pondered a lot about whether to have lunch or not; it was a decision between fulfilling my belly’s monstrous appetite and the urgent need to save up some money for an emergency. At the end, what became the last straw was the pizzeria next to the underground station. Needless to say that hunger took control and I ordered a Margherita and a bottle of sparkling water, and as cliched as ever, I dug in. It was tasty, give that it was smokey and stone-baked sourdough, the scent spread and was quite unforgettable. The waiters and waitresses were mostly Italian and were all quite playful, and they certainly did have the regular workplace banter around for the whole day. I appreciated that, in fact, regarding the easy atmosphere it created.

For my second stop, I had decided, to the Baker Street!

For anyone who had ever heard of Sherlock Holmes must know about the street he lived on. I took the underground once more and got off at the station Baker Street. It was supposed to be an easy way to the Sherlock Holmes Museum, but I managed to make it convoluted and twisted. Literally.  I kept going the wrong way, and I was so intent on the cell phone and finding the destination ahead that I went past without noticing the museum on the other side of the street! There was a large queue and just exactly HOW did I miss that?! I apparently hadn’t learned enough.

Baker Street 221B

As soon as I got to the museum. BUT (another plot twist, what a DRAMA. Still loved it though) I forgot to do one thing. Before the me in the past realized what it was, you can guess what kind of “uneducated” thing I did. It was a long lineup, about an hour, and I did everything I could to keep myself occupied, including phubbing, chatting with Candy, and looking around. Throughout the three and a half weeks, she had always been there, and we kept other’s company, and I am grateful for her presence, really.

There was a cool store next to the Museum, though, which was a store called the Beetles. Yes, it was a store filled with The Beetles’ merchandise! Not being a fan of the band, I didn’t go inside. When it comes to classics, I would choose Backstreet Boys. Just saying though.

I was delighted when I saw that I was the next one who would get inside the Museum. “Delighted” was more like “de-lighted” as in the light of hope in my head flickered out when I saw the customer in front of me taking out his ticket (cue the no,5 symphony of Beethoven) and showing it to the old-fashioned dressing clerk.

I had forgotten to buy a ticket.

With a small voice, I asked the clerk dressed as a servant where and how I could get a ticket. She showed me the way to the shop next door as I asked her with a trembling voice if I could get back to the line after I had gotten my ticket? Judging that I was coming alone, she relented and let me go. Too lucky, if the clerk had said otherwise, I would have already decided to leave! Too lucky was I…

The price of the ticket was surprisingly high, with 15 pounds per person. It was understandable, though, as it possibly wasn’t that supported by the government, like the Natural Museum or the British Museum did. But also the tour was short. Delicately short, I would say. With three floors of small rooms and an attic, the whole tour throughout the building took not more than twenty minutes. But I could really be convinced that someone HAD been living in the building, instead of being merely characters in books. We have the classicly embellished walls, the old-fashioned floors with incredibly loud squeaks when you walked past.

Room small but cozy.

Living room 

One floor had some of the remarkable adventures Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson had been through, including the red-headed League, the Scandal in Bohemia, and the Hound of Baskervilles, all reenacted with wax statues resembling with that of Madame Tussauds’. Given that the wax museum was just a few blocks away, the connection wasn’t hard to make. With the harpoons and the guns hanging on the walls in every room, it was convincing that Sherlock Holmes was real, merely a step away from being legendary. Impressive tour!

The Red Headed League

In the displaying box was a pistol gun

My mom texted me, telling me that my aunt (for now. She is actually my cousin, but explanations would only be more confusing right now) wanted me to go to a department store nearby. There was a Pierre Herme inside, and she asked me to buy some chocolates for my host family for courtesy. It was true, though, for they had given me a place to live, and did what they could to help me with the trips despite their work.

No more wrong directions this time, how reassuring.

I, though, kind of struggled when looking for the shop my aunt/cousin told me to go to. I was tempted to take out my cell phone to dial and ask, but I soon relented because I want to try to find it myself. Pretty much the moment I had the thought of doing this independently, I found it, and as a reward for myself, I bought myself a macaron. (To be honest, independent or not, I was going to buy myself a macaron. Nimble exquisite stuff, I had to tell you.)

A macaroon a day keeps sadness away.

With the fact that stores close up early in England, I only had time for one last stop. The words from my cousin/niece (It’s a long story) when we were chatting during the queuing came back to me, and I took her advice and headed for the Tower of London, which meant another trip via the underground, over to the Tower Hill Station. And I saw more than just the Tower of London. I saw the Crown Jewel, a fortress-like castle (or was it a castle-like fortress? I got confused) though the entrance was closed already. There were also the Tower Bridge and the River Thames, both of which were picturesque and visually calming. People were strolling along the path next to the River Thames, watching the sun in front of us, which was hiding between clouds, wanting to join and contribute to the wonderful view but too shy was him to shine on down, and only dared to dye a small part of the clouds into a shade of orange.

I know. I was putting the focus on the caramelized cup of peanuts.

It was about time to leave, and before leaving, I thought a toilet break was in order. However (drama alert), there were no toilets visible anywhere. I saw a Starbucks, and went inside, ordered a cup of Americano and set off to look for the toilet when I saw a sign that said: “toilet out of order- sorry for the inconvenience.”

With the coffee I was sipping from, I was in a more urgent need for a toilet as nature really was calling. I searched high and low for shops. When I got information that KFC was still open and had a toilet available.

The doors were closed since it was seven minutes after working hours. I knew I could knock on the door for the clerk to open the door and let me in, and I did! They just didn’t hear me. I saw another small diner, where the door was open and one of the workers was taking the outdoor table inside. I went near until I saw a “toilets closed” sign at the door. Disgruntled, I left the diner and looked for another “target”.

Then, I saw the possible savior of the day: the public toilets that were 50 pence per time. Expensive, but would have to do.

Even the public toilets were closed.

Have you ever been shut out so many times that you wanted to shout and scream at everything? I was almost there. Almost. Then I saw a restaurant/pub and (finally) got a “yes”, and I was grateful.

Time to head back to the host family. I took the underground, then the train, and the car of my host dad, and here I am in bed right now, typing so many words that one might have mistaken me that I was trying to make up for the lack of details for the previous days.

I don’t even know what I was thinking.

This is all for today.

And tomorrow is the last.









(Afterword: This article was actually finished on the exact day I had the trip, but with all the pictures I had to upload, I got lazy after I return to Taiwan. Sorry!)