A Valued Historical Opportunity
by Andrew Thomson
The first impressions I received of England occurred as our plane descended upon Heathrow Airport. Peering out of the tiny window, we could see the centre of London and its familiar landmarks. As we progressed further out into the suburbs and closer to ground level, there was an overwhelming scene of thatched roofs, large green fields and parks, to accompany the sprawling industrial complexes.
From there, we lugged our belongings to a bus for the journey down the "motorway" to Bath. While most of the time was spent sleeping, we were able to sneak glimpses at Windsor Castle and the endless green and brown hills of the English countryside.
Arriving in Bath, its Georgian stone architecture came at me from all directions. With all the buildings composed of the same light brown limestone, there was a homogeneous feel to the city and the vast array of physical marvels such as the Royal Crescent, Pulteney Bridge, the magnificent sculptures, and Bath Abbey. After checking in at Kingswood School, the historic and beautiful complex where the conference was being held, we had the opportunity to explore the city even further. First, there was an official tour of the city conducted by an elderly gentleman who knew everything, everyone, and everything that ever happened in Bath. As for the name of the city itself, Chris (Pang) and I checked it out by going through the Roman Baths, exploring bathing and swimming facilities that were 2000 years old. All in all, every English person I asked prior to going said that Bath was the most picturesque city in the country. It certainly did not disappoint us.
After that, it was back to London. Within two hours of being there, we were already experts of the city’s train, bus, and subway systems, having spent extensive amounts of time carrying our luggage from station to station. After a night of rest, it was time to hit the town.
First stop was the British Museum, an imposing structure near Russell Square. This was the chance to finally see all of those famous things the British have been able to plunder over the years: the Rosetta Stone, sculptures and friezes from the Parthenon, and numerous mummies and coffins from Egypt. From there, it was on to Covent Garden Market, perhaps the world capital for street buskers, as we were entertained with fiddle music and opera as we shopped. Once at Trafalgar Square, the official pigeon gathering place of London, we went through the National Gallery, sampling Monet, Van Gogh, Da Vinci, and a collection of other great artists. My personal favourite? The Ambassadors by Holbein.
From there, it was a parade of sights as we wandered down Whitehall. The Canadian High Commission, the Admiralty Arch, the changing of the Queen’s Horse Guards, Number 10 Downing Street (I don’t think Tony was in). Next stop was Buckingham Palace, an ominous sight when viewed in person. The evening was a night of theatre, An Inspector Calls, an intense, intimate production.
Day Two began at Leicester Square in the Theatre District scrambling for theatre tickets for that night. Afterwards, Chris and I proceeded to Westminster Abbey, an out-of-body experience for both of us. Never have I seen so much history, spirituality, and pageantry encapsulated into one building. If only they would have let us take pictures inside. Although the line to get into Westminster Palace and the Houses of Parliament was insanely long, that didn’t stop us from gazing at its beauty and the sight of Big Ben peering over the city. Next on our gazing-from-afar tour was the London Eye Ferris Wheel and the River Thames.
A subway trip on the "Tube" brought us to St. Paul’s Cathedral, another wondrous church. Architecturally wondrous on the inside, we made the 550-step trek up to the famous "Whispering Gallery", then proceeded to the very top of the church for a bird’s eye view of the entire city. Another tube ride took us to the Tower of London. Since no executions were scheduled for that day, we decided not to pay the entrance fee, settling for pictures while standing on the Tower Bridge, one of the more aesthetically pleasing spans in the world. The evening theatre excursion was to be a treat: a London production of Les Miserables at the Palace Theatre. After seeing it, my revolutionary spirit was so high I could hardly contain myself in the streets.
That is a synopsis of our time in the old country. Our only enemy during the entire trip seemed to be time, yet we were very fortunate to be where we were.