Cameron's Baylor in Oxford Blog

The End of All Things...

2005-08-20T23:08:00.000+01:00

Log Entry 50: Farewell to Shadowlands

And now, readers, we reach the part that I have been putting off for far too long—the conclusion to this grand adventure.

You will recall that this blog was begun as part of an experiment. Blogging itself was new to me, and I wish, therefore, to comment on a few things I have learned.

After nearly two months of posting on this blog, I can see the allure of blogging. Blogging is a great tool for keeping in touch with people about your experiences in something, or for distributing information. But it is very easy—as I often have done—to degenerate blogging into just random blabbing about your everyday life. It’s addicting. But I think people often forget that these blogs are readable on the entire internet. Though it may feel as if you are keeping a journal, you are effectively telling everyone in the world about your personal life. Therefore, I feel blogs should be restricted to special occasions or uses, like this one; for this reason, I will not continue to update this blog. This will be the last post. I hope you have enjoyed reading and following along.

Now, on to the trip itself. The impetus for this trip was to complete the BIC Capstone course in only 4 week, as opposed to an entire semester. And, quite obviously, I succeeded. But the actual BIC class was only a small part of the trip; in fact, save for the last few days, when I retreated to my cave for a fit of essay writing, I hardly thought about BIC at all. This, of course, made the trip much more enjoyable.

This was my third time in the U.K. I remember after the first time, I was ready to come home in about 8 days. This time, they had to drag me back kicking and screaming. I love England. I love nearly everything about it. I love being able to hop on a train and just go somewhere—something you just can’t do here, even with the atrocity that is Amtrak. While waiting in DFW for my short little commuter flight back to Waco, I pondered that it would have been so much easier to just get on a train. But I’m getting off topic.

Whilst sitting in church this Sunday, I flicked my hearing aids to the “T” position—and was promptly reminded that I wasn’t in England anymore. Everywhere—EVERYWHERE—we went had loop systems fitted for the hearing impaired. Cathedrals. Taxi Cabs. Museums. Heck, even department stores had the loop system. I suppose this must be some part of government legislation. Why can’t we have the same here?

A word about religion: every trip thus far to the U.K. has been branded a “pilgrimage” of sorts, and this was no exception. However, this was the first time that I was able to experience a wide variety of locations for services. I love being able to go anywhere in England and still attend the same service, day in, day out. Though the English people themselves may think the Anglican tradition is antiquated, I find it quite soothing—though I wonder how much longer this will be true, as more and more ministers turn to more evangelical means of worship in order to attract the youth.

As I re-read the above, I realize that I am merely repeating things that have been said elsewhere. I had thought that I would write some sort of grand conclusion to this tale, but like Iris Murdoch, I find it hard to quit. For the Baylor in Oxford experience is not something that comes to a complete halt. The experiences I had in Oxford and elsewhere in the U.K. are some of the most memorable in my life; they have changed me, and they will influence my thinking and doing for years to come. But that is something that I am not willing to elaborate upon—at least, not for public reading.

I have been home a little over a week, and I already miss the Oxford mindset, culture, and the people very much. I would go back in an instant. Ever since I went to Hawaii during High School, I have felt that a small part of me would stay there forever, and that I would have to go back to reclaim it. I feel the same way about the Oxford trip. Part of me will always dwell over there.

I have been heavily procrastinating finishing this post, because it brings a moment of finality to the entire experience. But all good things must come to an end…So it is with a heavy heart that I, like Lewis, bid farewell to Shadowlands and say goodbye to England and Oxford.

I hope that you have enjoyed reading this blog. I regret to announce that this is the end. This will be the last update; sorry if you are disappointed by this. It is simply against my principles to post the mundane activities of my everyday life. And so, readers, I bid you adieu.

“And he lived happily ever after until the end of his days.”

-CRT
-Oxford Logs: July 6th - August 20th, 2005

Picture re-cap

2005-08-13T18:45:00.000+01:00

To make it easier to view the photo pages, I've linked them all into this post

Set 1

Set 2

Set 3

Set 4

Set 5

Set 6

Set 7

Set 8

Set 9

Set 10

Set 11

Next-to-last log entry

2005-08-13T18:38:00.000+01:00

Here it is:

Log Entry 49: Summary and Statistics

I shall not attempt to record a full summary, but instead will post a few random statistics.

Classes Taken: 2
Grades Received: A; A.
BIC Classes left to take: ZERO

Students in group: 22
Total in group: 28/29 (it fluctuated)

Churches attended for Sunday Sung Eucharist:
-St. Paul’s Cathedral, London
-St. Mary’s Cathedral, Edinburgh, Scotland
-Westminster Cathedral, London
-Christ Church Cathedral, Oxford

Churches attended for Sung Evensong:
-Christ Church Cathedral, Oxford (3 times)
-Winchester Cathedral, Winchester
-Canterbury Cathedral, Canterbury

Other Churches visited:
-Salisbury Cathedral, Salisbury
-Notre-Dame de Paris
-Sacre-Couers, Paris
-Saint-Chapelle, Paris
-St. George’s Chapel, Windsor
-Iffley Church, Oxford
-St. Martin’s Church, Canterbury
-Exeter College Chapel
-Merton College Chapel
-Magdalen College Chapel

Books bought at Blackwells: 4
Books bought, total (including guidebooks): 16
Amount of room for books in apartment: none

Magazines Bought: 4
-2 MacUser Magazines
-Official Nintendo Magazine (With free Beach Ball!)
-A Volkswagen Magazine

Things bought that need to be put on the wall: 6
Amount of wall space left in apartment: None

Number of bags taken to England: 3
Number of bags taken back: 4

Weight of main bag on return flight: 32kg
Maximum free weight on flights: 32kg

Number of meals had at the Eagle and Child: 3

Number of shows seen: 3
-Les Miserables
-The Producers
-Mary Poppins
Number of Photos Taken: 2386
Number of Photos online: 2382
File errors: 4. Not bad for a five year old camera.

CDs Bought for Me: 5
CDs Bought, Total: 7

Days Marked on BritRail Pass: 14
Days Actually used: 16 (twice they didn’t mark it).

Cities Visited:
-London
-Oxford
-Edinburgh
-St. Andrews
-Salisbury
-Winchester
-Windsor
-Canterbury
-Paris, France
-York
-Bath

Papers Written: 8

Words written in blog: over 28000; probably close to 30000
Blog Stats, According to Statcounter.com:
-Page Loads: 924
-Unique Visitors: 572
-First Time Visitors: 350
-Returning Visitors: 222

Hours spent on a plane: 18
Hours spent on a Train: over 40
Hours spent in a car/bus: 3.5

Money spent on the trip: WAY too much to record here.

And that’s pretty much all I can think of right now. Coming soon: conclusions.

First of three final log entries

2005-08-13T17:53:00.000+01:00

This is the first of three final log entries. The final number of entries will be a nice, round 50. I hope you have enjoyed reading along; I certainly have enjoyed writing them.

Log Entry 48: So Long, and Thanks for all the Fish: The road home

Thursday, August 11th was the day that we were all wishing wouldn’t come, for it was the day we had to come home. I awoke bright and early at 4:45 A.M. and did a few last minute packing things. I had to leave the power strip and fan that I got behind; there simply wasn’t enough room. I hope my scout finds a good use for them. He could always sell them on ebay!

Anyway, after an enormous struggle with my two bags (for I had indeed gotten another suitcase, albeit a smaller and cheaper one), I made it down the stairs, turned in my keys, took one last wistful look at Tom Quad, and boarded the bus. It was time to begin the long journey home.

Our bus was stuffed. I still don’t understand English busses….why is the luggage space so pitiful compared to American busses? It’s the same damn bus. We had to put some luggage up in the top with us. A bit cramped, but otherwise comfortable. I slept part of the way; we did, after all, have a long day ahead of us.

We arrived at Gatwick about 2 and a half hours before our 10:40 flight. We first stopped at the southern terminal to let off about 4 people bound for other flights, including Cozad. The rest of us went up to the Northern terminal, and got in the queue to check in. The line was precariously long, but it moved very quickly.

I was relieved that my huge bag was under the weight limit at 32kg. Of course, that isn’t saying much, as the max is 32kg. Security was also a breeze—much better than the AA stuff at DFW I was to experience later in the day. That isn’t to say that I think they were doing an inferior job; on the contrary, everything felt more professional.

I can’t remember if I had been to Gatwick before or not (going out, I mean), but the inside was pretty amazing. I remember Glasgow last year, which had little to no shopping and eating once you were through the security terminal. Gatwick was not like this at all. It was practically a mall, including a big huge cool fountain in the middle. Crazy. There were cars on display, and two electronics stores, and a Harrods, and a huge WH Smith. We had about 30 minutes to kill before getting on the plane, so I browsed around for a bit.

Finally we got to get on the plane, where we were once again in “pagan” class, but at least I had an aisle seat again, which was nice. We were about 20 minutes late taking off, supposedly because there was an unattended bag on the plane, and they had to take it off. At least, that’s what was told to me by someone else in the BU group. Whatever.

The 10 hour flight was uneventful. I did notice that on flights TO the UK, they were playing H2G2. Sadly, however, there was nothing really of interest to me on the video screen. Not to mention the fact that there was a stuck pixel right in the middle of my screen, ruining just about everything. Oh well.

I was also disappointed that they don’t give you a hot towel anymore. I was looking forward to that. I guess I should be happy that we got a plane at all, given the riot situation that was—unbeknownst to us—occurring at Heathrow due to BA canceling all flights.

We arrived at DFW at Terminal D, which just opened while we were gone. Partly due to the cancelled flights, I guess, the terminal was practically empty. We breezed through passport control, and picked up our bags. Ours was the only baggage claim going. Mind you, this was about 2:30 in the afternoon—not exactly late. Customs was also a breeze.

We were greeted—along with the humidity and warm weather—by Blake’s parents (who had come to Paris earlier in the trip). It was nice to be met by a familiar face. After this, the group pretty much split up and went their separate ways, which was pretty sad. I had gotten used to those 22 people, almost like pledging, in a way, but without the 3:30 am trips to Wally world.

I waited around at the Terminal, mainly because one of the girls had not found her ride. We were a bit late, and we had come into a different terminal than we left from. She ended up going to that terminal, where (I assume) she found her ride—at least, she emailed me and let me know she got back fine.

I got on the free bus to terminal A, and got in the HUGE line there for check-in. I was bout 2 and a half hours early, but I needed that time. I was relieved to discover that, as I had been on an international flight, I didn’t have to pay the fees for overweight bags. That was nice.

After checking in, I got in the HUGE line for security, which was insanely long and slow moving. The security setup clearly needs to be revamped here, because it was so convoluted. You had to basically strip down, which was a major inconvenience, and a security lady made me take out my laptop and put it through separately. This was no big deal, but I haven’t had to do that since I left five weeks ago; why is it only the US that requires this?

Anyway, I finally made it into the terminal with about an hour to spare before boarding. By this time, I was starting to go pretty crazy, and jet lag was kicking in. I was hoping to find a Chili’s Too to eat at, but apparently they don’t have any at Terminal A, which really sucked. So I just walked the entire length of the terminal to the bus to the satellite terminal, got on the bus, got off, sat down, and opened up my PowerBook and began to pass the time.

We finally boarded, and I got all my luggage stowed away in the overhead. On the flight back, I had my first Dr Pepper in five weeks. That certainly made the 28 minute flight much more enjoyable.

My Godfather, Rob, was waiting at the airport for me, and we picked up my bags and loaded the car. We stopped by the Gibson’s house to say hello to Susan—who is recuperating from foot surgery—and then went home to my apartment, stopping on the way for Wendy’s.

Finally, I got all my bags in my door. I made sure a few key things hadn’t been broken, and then I pretty much climbed in bed about 10 p.m. At this point, I had been up for over 23 hours, with only a few hours of quick napping during that time.

I awoke the next morning at 6 a.m., and I was really confused by how dark it was outside. My body thought it was 12 noon, so I couldn’t back to sleep. It was then that if finally hit home that no, I was not in Oxford anymore.

My grand adventure in the U.K. was over. Now it was time to come back to reality. So Long, England, and Thanks for All the Fish.

Bush's Chicken==good

2005-08-13T03:54:00.000+01:00

I got my car this evening, and my Ring, too. Now I'm complete again.

Had a huge meal of Bush's chicken--I had only eaten some Mac and Cheese for the whole day--for dinner. Was really good.

I'm working on the final log entry, which will hopefully be reading for posting sometime tomorrow. My brain is still on screwy schedule time, though, so don't fret if it's late. I woke up at 6AM this morning, and COULD NOT go back to sleep. It felt like noon. Everything was dark outside, and that really confused me. I took a nap this afternoon, but have otherwise been wide awake all day.

Now, however, everything is catching up with me, and I'm rapidly falling asleep. It feels like one of those nights when I stay up for hours writing a paper... But it's only 10pm. Ughhh.

Home Now...

2005-08-12T02:40:00.000+01:00

I'm home now. Very tired. Will post more later. Made it back safe, no extra luggage fees (just barely), etc.

Ok, my body says it is 2:41 AM right now...goodnight.

So Long, and Thanks for all the Fish.

2005-08-10T22:36:00.000+01:00

Here's the final set of pictures. This one goes to 11!

If you click on the link and nothing happens, wait a while, as this is uploading right now.

Click here for pic goodness!

Last Evensong.

2005-08-10T19:00:00.000+01:00

Just got out of my last Evensong. Collegium Vocale singers (not really sure which one...google turns up a lot of them. Appeared to be British).

Did Howell's "Pray for the peace of Jerusalem" Very similar to the Howell's work(s) that we did last year.

Now I'm just killing time until the closing dinner. I will try to do one more picture upload tonight, but it will depend on many factors. I do need to sleep, you know.

One last Log entry...

2005-08-10T11:27:00.000+01:00

This will be the last full log entry until I arrive home--and likely until Friday afternoon, as I'm sure I'll be tired from the trip. There may be one picture entry, thought that remains to be seen.

I finished all of my coursework last night, and have recieved an A for the BIC Capstone. Haven't gotten the other grades back yet, but I'm not really worried about it.

In sum, I've had a great time, and I really don't want to go home tomorrow and (literally, in my case) have to face the music. But as the cliche says, all good things must come to an end.

When I get back, there will be some final updates. I'll probably do a "best of" picture page, and I'll have some reflections, summations, statistics, and conclusions--as well as a conclusion about this blog, which (as you no doubt recall) was an experiment from day one.

Anyway, here's the last log entry written in England:

Log Entry 47: Bath Spa 08/08/2005

Over the Weekend, we had planned to go into London on Sunday, but when it got around to it, neither of us really wanted to go. So we ended up having a nice, relaxing weekend at home. Both Cozad and I had a ton of papers to write, so it was some much needed time—even if all I did was put the papers off as long as possible.

On Monday, we decided to make the trip to see the Roman Baths at Bath. This was really the only thing left on our list of things to do that we had not accomplished. We had class at 4p.m. that day, so we had to make it a quick trip.

Our train left the station at 8:33 a.m., probably the earliest we have had to set out on the trip so far—even earlier than going up to the Open. We had to leave Tom Gate about 8 a.m. It was certainly difficult to do, but I think it was well worth the effort. The train went first to Didcot Parkway (about 10 minutes from Oxford), where we were going to have a layover of about 12 minutes. Unfortunately, the other train was late, so we basically had to sit and do nothing for about 30 minutes. I actually used this time to type out some of my BIC paper on my phone. Gotta love technology.

Anyway, we were soon on the train to Bath, which was really not all that far from Oxford—only an hour of actual rail travel. However, the country-side changed rather dramatically. Oxford is relatively flat, but Bath was hilly. It reminded me a bit of some places in Scotland. Later, upon looking at a map, I found that Bath was probably the farthest point west of London that I have been in England (not counting Wales, of course). So it was definitely interesting to see this different type of terrain.

The walk to the Roman Baths from the Train Station was pretty short—no further than it is from Ch Ch to the train station. Upon reaching the site, you are first presented with a huge church, which is Bath Abbey. The Baths themselves were nowhere to be seen. Come to find out, they were underground, or rather, under the street level. The entire Roman city is underneath the current one.

The Baths were not discovered until early in the 19th century, and the Victorians that had discovered it build a terrace around the great bath—the largest of several. This is what you see from the street.

We entered the Bath complex and whipped out our Heritage Passes, which saved us the extraordinary fee of £9.50, which I thought was rather absurd. Anyway, we were soon walking around the terrace, looking down into the great bath, which was a large rectangular pool of green water. In Roman times, the bath was covered with a roof, so the water would have been clear. Today, however, algae grow freely, and the water takes on a pleasant green shade.
The baths are organized in a sort of sprawling museum, which lets you see the ruinous complex in full. One of the most interesting aspects of this bath—there are several in England—is that it is also houses a sacred temple to Minerva. The remains of this temple are visible in part, but a large majority of it was demolished to use in construction of the first Christian abbey on the site. They have found examples of stones carved with decorations lying face down, forming the pavement, which indicates that the early Christians re-used the stone in their constructions. In fact, some feel that there might be another huge temple site buried underneath the current Abbey, but of course it would be very difficult to excavate such a site.

Perhaps the most interesting thing to me was the Roman engineering. They had some pretty advanced stuff. The remains of several heated floors are viewable. The flooring itself is long gone, but the ducts through which they pumped hot air are still visible to all. The Romans also had an ingenious piping system, which kept all the baths filled with water and cycled the water so that it would be at least somewhat clean.

One particular bath was a “cold plunge” pool, which the intrepid Romans would jump into after going through the hot rooms and the hot bath, and then the warm bath. In this pool, the current curators of the Bath site had asked people to throw money into the water for the future conservation of the site. The water was filled with coins and even paper currency—at one point, we saw an American $20 bill; had it been any closer, I daresay we would have made a grab for it.

Our last stop in the bath complex was the pump room, which is a beautiful Victorian dining room, which contains a fountain of spa water. As part of our ticket, we were entitled to take a drink of this water. We asked the smartly dressed man for two glasses, and he replied, “you haven’t tried this yet, have you? One will be enough.” One was certainly enough. The water didn’t taste bad—I think it still tastes better than Waco water—but it wasn’t all that good, either. There was a lot of iron in it. I can’t imagine anyone drinking it because of the taste.

And that was pretty much it for our trip to Bath Spa. We walked around town a bit, which was very nice, but pretty much like every other good-sized English town. Same shops, etc. We had lunch at a place called “California Kitchen,” which served only American food. Still didn’t know what real bacon is, though—that’s the thing I have missed the most. I don’t want ham on my cheeseburger; I want bacon. On the way out, we looked briefly at the park/gardens, which were very nice.

Anyway, after this short excursion, we caught the train to Didcot parkway. Luckily, our train was early, and the other train going to Oxford was about 3 minutes late, so we just made the earlier train, which gave us about 30 extra minutes. We were back by 3pm; a good ending to our adventures abroad in England and Scotland.

BIC is OVER!!

2005-08-09T11:55:00.000+01:00

God willing, I just finished my last thing ever for BIC--an interview with Dr. Hanks.

It's over.

Thank God.

Picture time...

2005-08-08T21:46:00.000+01:00

Set 10 now online. Enjoy...probably the last full set...

Click Here for Pic goodness!

Quick update.

2005-08-08T17:39:00.000+01:00

No time for a full log entry...I'm in Writer's Hell at the moment. Maybe Wednesday, but don't expect anything major until we get home, probably.

There may be a picture update tonight, though.

This morning we went to Bath. It was neat, and very different than what you normally thing of as Britain, but I will say that we made the right choice to see Blenheim Palace 5 years ago.

We didn't get to see much else, but we did walk around a little, and it's a very nice town. It's not small by any means...perhaps about the size of Oxford, really.

We also tried a glass of Spa water. Not surprisingly, it still tasted better than Waco water.

No motivation!

2005-08-07T20:11:00.000+01:00

Right, so I have NO motivation to finish these essays. None. Nada. Zilch. Null.

I think I'll have to wait until later.... sigh....

Today's Activities:

2005-08-07T17:50:00.000+01:00

Nothing. Absolutely Nothing.

Went to church this morning at Ch Ch Cathedral.

Ate lunch at KFC, then browsed the internet, did some shopping, attempted and failed to start a paper, and took a nap.

And you know what? I'm happy to say I did all that.

Because I realized today that I have 7 days left of summer.

7.

Holy.

Crap.

So my goal is to be as lazy as possible for the next 7 days.

By the way, don't go to KFC here in England. They DON'T HAVE MASHED POTATOES. Wow. I also asked for Honey and got a confused, blank stare. They didn't have biscuts, either, and the chicken strips tasted totally different. In sum, except for the Pepsi, it WASN'T KFC. It was some other chicken company. Bah, humbug!

Sunday Morning Fun

2005-08-07T10:55:00.000+01:00

Yeah, so this morning I step out of the room to go to the shower, with only my green shorts and a towel, and as soon as I closed the door, I realized that I had locked myself out of the room.

Shit.

So I had to go to the Porter's office, with no hearing aids and no glasses and no shoes, and get a key.

Oh well. Once in a month isn't too bad... :)

More Log Entries.

2005-08-06T13:15:00.000+01:00

Blog is now up-to-date (tm). You may notice the updates are not as detailed/slightly different style now; that is because I have already turned in the assignment for BIC, so I don't have to spend as much time talking about culture now.

anyway, here you go:

Log Entry 44: Mary Poppins 8/3/2005 (Evening)

After our visit to the Kilns, we came back to Ch Ch and anxiously awaited the arrival of an email from our friend Patrick Rountree. He was in London, and was going to try an pick up theatre tickets for us.

At 4:45, we got the email saying that he got tickets for Mary Poppins. We raced to the station and caught the 5:06 train to London Paddington. We arrived at 6:45 (it was the slow train, but we weren’t sure if the fast one was going to be running on time) and got on the tube to Tottenham Court Road, where we made a mad dash to the Prince Edward Theatre. We met Patrick and ran up to our seats (about 3 rows from the back at the very top of the theatre) and had exactly one minute to spare before the Overture began. That, my friends, is what you call perfect timing.

It was the highest we had sat, but it wasn’t as far away as say, the back of the Lubbock Coliseum. All the theatres here go up, not out. We actually rented the opera glasses (50p for the whole time), and they made things good enough.

The show itself is one of those that will have to grow on me. The new music is not as catchy as the old favorites, though it is hard to compete with a classic. Some of the movie songs had been over-orchestrated, I felt. An example: “Feed the Birds (Tuppence a Bag)” used to be a lovely, simple little lullaby, but here it has been turned into a duet between Mary and the bird lady. And the bird lady sounds (appropriately, I guess) like an old hag. It just doesn’t really work. The other issue I had was that songs had been moved around. For the most part, this wasn’t a big deal, but when they started “Let’s go Fly a Kite” halfway through the second act, I knew the ending would be a bit weak, which it was.

The best part of the entire show—which was worth the money just for it—was the sets and choreography. These were some of the most complex that I have seen in musical theatre. The dance for “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” (Wow…Word has that in Spell check) was incredibly complicated and incredibly fast, with everyone doing the same moves in perfect rhythm and timing, even the children.

The sets were equally as mind-boggling. The front of 17 Cherry Tree lane was projected onto a screen (which moved left and right as people walked). When the action moved inside the house, the screen went up and you were treated to a doll-house like view of the household—it was one complete set. When the action would move into the bedroom, the bottom part of the house would move back, and the entire bedroom set (which had been sitting on top of the house) lowered down, as the roof of the house came up.

All the set pieces were on tracks, and this allowed for some neat movements, including some magical Mary Poppins fixing things moments. I can’t imagine a touring production of this. It would be insane. I don’t know if they have plans for one, but if they do, they will likely have to change some things.

Anyway, the show was fun, and we caught a train back to Oxford at 11:38. It was certainly a long day, but a productive one.

Log Entry 45: Arrival in York/York Minster 8/4 and 8/5/2005

This morning I finally did not have a class, so I could sleep in a little bit. I did, however, have to do laundry, which was annoying, but that chore was taken care of soon enough.

We left on the 13:34 train straight to York. We had made seat reservations earlier, but they didn’t actually show up on the scrolling marquee above the seats, which caused some arguments later in the trip as the first class coach filled up. Oh well. Didn’t cause any problems for me.

The ride to York is about four hours, during which I finished one of my BIC papers. Man, I love having a computer with a battery long enough that I can actually be productive with it away from a power outlet.

When we arrived, it was drizzling, so everyone got out his or her umbrellas and ponchos. Oddly enough, by the time we had reached the exit of the station, the rain had pretty much stopped, save the occasional sprinkle.

The walk to the hotel was pretty long, and we walked along the old city wall, which was a bit precarious as it had no guard-rail on the inside preventing you from falling to your doom. Needless to say, on the way back the next day, we stuck to the ground.

The hotel was very nice. The bed was large—though it oddly featured square pillows—and the bathrooms were nice. There was a swimming pool, but it was outdoors, and I don’t think anyone used it.

We took a walk down to the city centre, which features some of the oldest and most complete medieval streets in England. These were extremely narrow, and featured tall buildings. A claustrophobic would have problems navigating these streets for sure.

Next we looked around for a place to eat, and the entire group (save the professors) ate at a little pub. It was there quiz night, so we played the quiz game, but didn’t win anything due to UK focused questions and football stars. Oh well. We crashed after that.

After breakfast in the morning (provided by the hotel), we walked up to York Minster, the cathedral here in York. While it was certainly not the largest or most interesting cathedral I’ve been to this trip, it had its charm. The cathedral features the oldest and largest complete mediaeval stained glass window in England. Half of England’s mediaeval stained glass is contained at the Minster. This glass is much smaller than the later glass I’m used to, and it is much less colorful, though some of this can be attributed to fading.

The other interesting thing in the cathedral was the Chapter house, which like Salisbury’s was round. It had lots of little grotesque gargoyles and stone carving, and featured a magnificent roof.

Other than that, however, the Minster was basically just another cathedral. I much prefer Canterbury or Winchester, but it was interesting to see this Northern building, too.

Log Entry 46: National Railway Museum in York 8/5/2005 (afternoon)

Now we move on to the real attraction in York: the National Railway Museum, supposedly the largest museum in the world. Here is the home of the Mallard, which holds the record for fastest steam traction in the world: 126 m.p.h. The museum also had a working turntable, dozens of locomotives, and other tidbits.

The first thing we saw was the royal trains, from Queen Victoria to modern day. These were the height of luxury. Even the Victorian-era coaches looked like they would be extremely comfortable today.

In this same room were some examples of typical English freight cars: short and small. Absolutely miniscule compared to US cars. This theme is repeated throughout the entire museum.

Everything here is relatively tiny. The Mallard is only about º the size of a N&W Class J. One the locomotives in the collection was built in Britain for the Chinese National Railway. It was a 4-8-4 Northern design, based on American prototypes. It dwarfed the other British Locomotives in the hall. Cozad remarked that it was huge; I wish he could see a Class A or Y6b, which would dwarf that locomotive.

Another interesting thing I saw was the coupler system. Most locos had a hook and chain system, but surprisingly, many of the more modern locos and rolling stock had both the knuckle coupler and the hook. The knuckle simply swung down when not in use.

We got to see a turntable demonstration, which was really interesting. The table is electric, but has to be aligned by hand. In other words, you rotate to approximately where you want to go, and then turn a hand crank to line up the tracks. The crank was obviously very hard to turn.

Another interesting piece: a cut-away of a steam locomotive, with and interactive exhibit showing how it worked, complete with drive wheels turning. I’d never seen anything like that before.

The museum also had a replica of Stephenson’s ROCKET locomotive, which I had seen in its current state at the Science Museum in London. I was reminded just how revolutionary this design was at the time.

The final room at the rail museum was the Warehouse, which was just a Warehouse full of stuff not on permanent display. It was incredible. I can’t imagine that much railroad stuff anywhere else. The most interesting of these random objects was a model railroad from 1911 that was used as late as 1995 by a signaling school, where the railroad men learn about signals for everything on the line. I had never seen such an instructional tool.

On the way out, we stopped by the Japanese Bullet Train, which had a lot more luggage space than comparable European trains. Nearly 35 years of modern rail travel, and the English still don’t have adequate luggage space.

We left the museum and headed to the York Model Railway World, which was a small OO scale layout. The layout was quite well done, but English scenery still has a lot to learn from U.S. techniques. Or perhaps there simply isn’t much interesting scenery in England, modeling wise.

The shop (for it was also a hobby shop) also had an N gauge layout, which was a night scene. Every building was perfectly lit, which I though was marvelous.

After these two train-related events, we headed back into town and did a little shopping, before picking up our backs (which were at the hotel) and catching a train back to Oxford. We even got back early enough to get a Kebab for dinner.

Log Entries "backwards R" Us

2005-08-06T00:52:00.000+01:00

Here are the promised log entries. Not completely up-to-date, but getting there. Pictures likely tomorrow night/Maybe Sunday night

Log Entry 39: Merton, Exeter, and Magdalene colleges; Saxon tower 8/1/2005

Today our schedule said a trip to Warwick castle, but apparently that either fell through or was cancelled, as no one ever heard anything about it. So we took this afternoon to see some of the colleges around Oxford, particularly those that had connections to the Oxford Christians.

Our first stop was Exeter College, where Tolkien studied. This is one of the oldest colleges in Oxford, though you would hardly know it, at least from the parts open to the public. Only one tower looked really medieval; everything else looked a bit later than the opening date of the college. It did have a very nice chapel, however, that featured an organ with decorations on the pipes. I’ve only seen this on a few other organs.

Our next stop was Magdalene college (once again, pronounced “Maudlin”), which is where C.S. Lewis taught. This is one of the largest colleges in Oxford, and features a magnificent chapel. In the chapel was a 15th century copy of Leonardo Da Vinci’s painting “The Last Supper,” which I thought was an interesting thing to have. Magdalene also had some of the most magnificent gardens in the city; no wonder the area surrounding the college could inspire Lewis. We also saw the deer meadows. The college has supposedly had deer since the 17th century (at least, that is the earliest that they were recorded).

The last college we went to was Merton College, where Tolkien taught. Surprisingly, this is just a few hundred feet from the back gate of Ch Ch. It boast a cathedral-style chapel. This is a very strange ordeal. Ch Ch’s has a cathedral, but this chapel is easily bigger. Anyway, it is built in the cathedral style, which is unusual for chapels. The college was interesting, but didn’t really reveal anything about Tolkien. It was just neat to say we had been there.

After these colleges, we visited St. Michael’s Tower, which is the oldest building in Oxford. In 38 years, they will celebrate its 1000th anniversary. It’s basically just an old tower, but it was neat to climb to the top and see all of Oxford. I took a panorama, so look for that in a few days, perhaps—I’ll need Cozad to stitch it together for me with Photoshop.

After a bit of grocery shopping—we were both out of food and Pepsi—we called it a day.

Log Entry 40: Parliament Tour 8/2/2005

Thankfully, we had no classes today, just a tour of Parliament in London. We caught the 9:30 train, and arrived (at Parliament) about 11:45—good timing, as our tour was at noon.

Sadly, there were no pictures allowed inside, so I can’t look back on them as reference. But we entered through the Sovereign’s entrance, which is where Queenie comes in. The present building was mostly built during Queen Victoria’s era, so it contains tons of references to her and her husband, Prince Albert.

When you go into the hall, you first come to a little sitting room where the Queen gets makeup, etc. put on. There is also a Royal Toilet there. How nice. The next room is essentially a big long hall, which has some very nice though horribly faded paintings.

The next room is the King’s drawing room, which is notable mainly for its paintings which depict the entire Tudor Dynasty, including all the wives of Henry VIII.

Finally you enter into the House of Lords, which is quite ornate. It is a long hall, sort of like a quire in a cathedral. At the front is the throne, where Queenie sits. It is very ornate and decorated, but is other wise just a large seat. The Rest of the house is again very much like a quire; seats facing each other, etc. The seats are of red leather. Red, by the way, is the color of the House of Lords, and green is the color of the House of Commons.

The House of Commons is at the end of a long hallway. The queen can see the Speaker fo the House of Commons when she is sitting on her throne. When a session of Parliament begins, the Queen sends a messenger to the House of Commons down this long hallway. When he gets to the House of Commons, they slam the door in his face, and he bangs on the door demanding an audience. This is a tradition dating back some time, when a particular king (sorry, can’t remember which one) was very bad about meeting the House of Commons. It is certainly an odd tradition.

As you move towards the House of Commons, you pass through two or three large common rooms, one of which contains a red and green motif, indicating the union of the houses of government. In one room, there is statue of Winston Churchill. His left toe has been rubbed down to the brass, as it is tradition to rub it on the way to business for luck.

A word here about the building itself: most of the House of Lords side is from the Victorian era, but the Commons side received a direct hit from a bomb during the blitz. Parts of the doorway from the entrance hall into the house are made of bricks salvaged from the older house to remind everyone of those dark times. During this time, the House of Commons met in the Queen’s entrance chamber (described above).

Anyway, the House of Commons is shaped very much like the House of Lords, excepting all the ornate business. The cushions here are green, not red. One of the most interesting things in the room is the red band which runs along the carpet on either side of the House. Members of the House of Lords are given swords (and have been for some time), and up until recently, it was necessary to come up with a system whereby duels could be kept to a minimum, as debates can be quite heated. So this red line was installed, and each side was told not to step over it. Our guide claimed that this is the origin of the expression “toe the line,” as crossing the line meant an act of aggression.

On the way to exiting Parliament, you pass through Westminster Hall, which is a 12th century hall re-built in the 14th century. At the time of its construction, it was the largest such building in England, surely a testament to the Norman display of wealth and power.

Here is where the after-coronation dinner parties take place, and here is where the body is put when a royal person lies in state—the last of which was the Queen Mother in 2002. There is a plaque there commemorating all the people that have lay there.

Also in the hall was another Gunpowder plot exhibition. Our guide told us that the evening before Parliament opens, someone still makes the trek down underneath the building and checks around with a lantern. I’m quite sure, however, that there are far more protective measures in place now. Just while we were there, they were installing more security measures in the House of Commons.

And that was pretty much it for Parliament. It was an impressive building, but quite small.

Log Entry 41: Westminster Abbey 8/2/2005 (afternoon)

We next headed over to Westminster Abbey, who I’m sure is making a healthy amount of money of the 8 pound admission prices they are charging. I’m certainly glad we went on Sunday, however, as they did not let you see the quire at all. There were also about a million people there, so it was hard to navigate and see everything. But we did see the chapels where Queen Elizabeth I and Mary, Queen of Scots are buried. We also saw the famous coronation chair. I didn’t know that the chair is covered with carvings of people from the Westminster School, quite an interesting feat unto itself. I thought the chair itself was surprisingly small. But it is nice to see the complement of the Stone of Destiny that I saw last year in Scotland.

The other attraction for me at Westminster was Poet’s corner, where all the famous poets (from Milton to Browning, as well as Chaucer) are buried/memorialized. It was nice to put something tangible with these poets that I have read of for the last four years or so.

The last thing I did at the Abbey was something I’ve been waiting to do for quite some time. There is a huge memorial for Georg Frederick “I’m not really German” Handel. Near this is a slab with his name on it, presumably near where he is buried in the vault. I am proud to say that I did a little jig on top of this. Yes, now I, too, have danced on Handel’s grave.

While Westminster was impressive, it is a very busy church, both architecturally and population-wise. I liked it for worship just fine, but there were so many tourists that visiting it wasn’t much fun. I much prefer Canterbury or Winchester, which have been my favourite cathedrals thus far on the trip.

Log Entry 42: Life, The Producers, and Everything 8/2/2005 (late afternoon/evening)

After our Westminster run through, we walked over to the McDonalds near Westminster Cathedral (why did they build that thing? It’s ugly) for a quick bite to eat, then caught the Tube to Oxford Circus for another romp through the Apple Store. As we left the store, Cozad remarked that it was the first time he had been in one and not purchased anything, to which I replied that that was really sad.

We made our way down to Leicester Square, where we met Patrick Rountree in front of the Odeon movie Theatre. We next proceeded to walk everywhere in search of Theatre tickets. We tried to get tickets to see Mary Poppins, but there was nothing really good available. We next tried Guys and Dolls, but it was sold out across the board. So we ended up seeing the Producers, which was a great choice in retrospect.

The theatre was down in Covent Garden, near the 19th century flower market and the Opera house. This was an area that I had not seen in London, so it was great to see something new. There are lots of really neat shops and things in the market area. We stopped at a Rock and Roll shop, which had lots of Who, Pink Floyd, and Jimi Hendrix stuff. I picked up a keychain with the logo from The Who’s “Quadrophenia” (at least, the most recent tour) on it.

We had dinner at a pub near the theatre (decent fish and chips, but not the best I’ve had), and arrived in ample time for the show. This theatre was much larger than the Theatre that Les Mis was in. It also featured a full orchestra pit. We had gotten half-price tickets, which put us in the stalls on the right…not bad at all for what we paid for them.

The show itself was absolutely hilarious, in typical Mel Brooks style. Lots of sexual innuendos, etc, but it also had lots of little tributes to other Mel Brooks things, like “walk this way” from Young Frankenstein. There were also silly names for people, like “Carmen Ghia” It is certainly not a show to take the kiddies to.

The most outrageous sequence was the actual show they produced, which was called “Springtime for Hitler.” At the last second, they had to replace the very stereotypical German man they had playing Hitler and replace him with the director, a VERY gay, large, old man. The results were comic genius. Of course, I might be forgetting the coordinated grannies-with-walkers dance scene or the fabulous “I Wanna Be a Producer” number.

The show itself was a great throwback to “lighter” musical comedies of the past, a type which aren’t done much any more in favor of the CAMERON MAKINTOSH PRESENTS variety of shows. It poked fun at other musicals, which was part of the fun of the show.

The actors themselves were perfect. Matthew Broderick and Nathan Lane have been typecast in this part, so it is difficult to imagine it being done by different actors. But the actors that portrayed the characters in this show were likewise perfect choices, and Nathan Lane and Matt were quickly forgotten.
In sum, it was a great show, and I definitely recommend it to anyone who enjoys any of Mel Brook’s films and Musicals.

We next caught the tube back to Paddington (after being in London almost 12 hours) and caught the train back to Oxford, arriving at about 12:45am. Not bad at all.

Log Entry 43: The Kilns 8/3/2005

This afternoon we took a trip to the Kilns, which is where Lewis lived for the large majority of the time that he taught in Oxford.

Despite its fancy name, the Kilns is basically just a house. The best part about it is the magnificent flower gardens, which certainly must have influenced Lewis’ writings. It is easy to see where inspiration came from.

Perhaps the most interesting thing about the house was the outdoor staircase (almost like a fire escape) that leads from Lewis’ bedroom to the front door of the house. I guess he didn’t have to walk through the house if he didn’t want to.

There’s really not much to say about the home, save that it was nice to be in the same rooms that once were the home of such works as the Chronicles of Narnia and other classics.

Following our visit to the privately-owned home, we walked a few blocks to a small parish church where Lewis is buried. He is buried not with his wife, but with his brother, which I think says a lot about his demeanor and character.

-End of Line.

In York

2005-08-05T08:33:00.000+01:00

York is a really neat town. We were going to go up to Newcastle, but instead we'll likely stay here all day. There are a lot of old castles, churches, and buildings to see. The downtown area has one of the oldest and most complete medieval sections in England, which allows you to see what it was really like.

We will head to the National Rail Museum after our tour of York Minster.

I'm working on Log Entries, and will hopefully have them up tomorrow sometime...maybe late tomorrow night, though.

-End of Line

Off to York

2005-08-04T12:05:00.000+01:00

We are leaving for York this afternoon. I'm looking forward to getting some work done on the train; I've got tons of papers to do, not to mention catching up on the blog.

Since I don't know what internet will be like, there might not be another post for a few days.

-End of Line.

Mary Poppins

2005-08-04T01:19:00.000+01:00

Saw Mary Poppins tonight. It was awesome, though it does have it's faults (particuarlly the new songs..though they might grow on me).

the sets and choireography were amazing, however...I'll describe more later. Time for bed.

-End of Line.

Pictures, Set 9

2005-08-03T10:19:00.000+01:00

Well, Hell froze over. Apple released a two button mouse, and I actually finished an upload without any errors. I guess it's because it's 4 in the morning where the server is.

Anyway, here's Set 9, which is the rest of the Paris pictures, some colleges around Oxford, and Parliament/Westminster Abbey. Oh, and a few in Covent Garden.

Click here for Pic goodness!

Forgot:

2005-08-03T01:38:00.000+01:00

We stopped in a British rock and roll shop in Covent garden, and I got a cook keychain with the Logo used in the most recent "Quadrophenia" tour. Few people will get what it is, but I like it.

Producers was great

2005-08-03T01:25:00.000+01:00

Great show; we're going to attempt to go see another show tomorrow, too.

Very late. Updates will come, but I have MAJOR paper due Thursday.

-End of Line

Quick update.

2005-08-01T21:25:00.000+01:00

Today we just went around Oxford and saw Merton, Exeter, and Magdalen colleges, as well as the Saxon tower, which is the oldest building in Oxford. I'm not going to do a full journal entry, as it was basically just for pictures. Re-read the Inklings post to remind yourselves of the importance of these colleges.

Tomorrow, we go to London for a tour of Parliament and (hopefully) Westminster abbey, followed by (hopefully) a show. So there should be another Picture update within the next day or two. For those of you perverts waiting to see Venus de Milo's butt-crack, you'll just have to wait.

Log entries now up to date!

2005-08-01T13:09:00.000+01:00

I didn't put as much detail into these as some of the others, primarily because I've got so much other stuff to write, and I had a lot of material to cover. but I think you will still find them satisfactory. Scroll down below the log entries for the pictures posted last night.

Log Entry 36: Paris Day Two (Full Day One) 7/29/2005

This morning we got up at the crack of dawn, only to find that we had an hour more than we thought we did. Oh well. Prior planning prevents piss poor performance. Breakfast was pretty good, though the waitresses attempt at seating everyone at a table before they went to the buffet—merely by pointing in the general direction of the table, mind you—was a sham.

The rest of the group went on a bus tour that morning, but we met up with Robbie Moody (who popped in the hotel, unannounced), and he took us around all day. Robbie had done the Baylor in Paris thing about 2 summers ago, so he knew his way around. It didn’t hurt that he speaks fluent French.

Our first stop in “Robbie’s Kick-Ass Paris Walking Tour” was Saint-Chapelle, which was built by St. Louis—the only French king to become canonized—to house his collection of holy relics, including what he believed to be the true cross, the crown of thorns, and even drops of Christ’s blood. A cultural tangent: such belief in relics is still prevalent among some American Catholics today—the relics have just changed to things such as a piece of toast with the Virgin Mary’s image on it, or an old potato that Christ’s image is on.

Anyway, the chapel is famous for its stained-glass windows that surround the entire upper floor. It is certainly an impressive site, and of all the places we visited in Paris, this is the only one that felt “holy”—even moreso than Notre Dame, which was our next stop.

Perhaps no cathedral in the world is as famous as Notre-Dame de Paris. It should be surprising, therefore, that the Cathedral was once sold for scrap. It took the pleading of Victor Hugo and his wonderful novel about a hunchback that lived in the cathedral to change the minds of the people of France—a sort of French Sir Walter Scott, if you will.

The exterior of the cathedral is one of the most splendid things I have seen—certainly the most beautiful and (dare I say it) photogenic of the cathedrals we have visited. I was very surprised, therefore, when we ventured inside the cathedral. Unlike English cathedrals, which are often very ornate and bright, Notre Dame was cold and dull on the inside. Only the three stained glass rose windows offered any sort of elaboration and enhancement to the scene. Perhaps part of this reason is that the English cathedrals have been Anglicanized, but Catholicism is not so far away. Notre-Dame just didn’t feel very holy. It felt old, worn out; used. The interior was not warm and inviting, but dark and dirty. Perhaps this reflects the state of Christianity in the world today.

After Notre-Dame, we walked around for a bit around that area, mainly to get away from the tourist places so we could get some cheap food. We found a Brasserie and got lunch for 3 Euro a piece. A word about sandwiches in France: generally, they do not come with lettuce, tomatoes, etc. on them, which is a Godsend for me. Finally, a place where I don’t have to ask them to remove a bunch of stuff for the sandwich to be edible. They are (obviously) always on French bread, which tastes good, but is pretty tough for a sandwich. Also, I learned to just order tap water to drink, since it’s free. Coke is prohibitly expensive almost anywhere in Paris.

Following our meal, we walked over to the Bastille monument, where the Bastille prison once stood. It is also the site of the modern opera house (which, frankly, looks ugly). Speaking of opera, our next stop was the real Opera house—the one that Paris is famous for. It is one of the grandest buildings I’ve seen, both on the inside and the outside. Everything is gilded with gold. The chandelier in the main theatre is easily the largest and most ornate I have seen—and it looks nothing like the one in Phantom of the Opera—though I guess you could say that that one was destroyed. We didn’t find box five, though.

Humorous moment of the day: in the Metro (French version of the tube), Robbie accidentally stepped in what appeared to be human feces. That’s right. Shit. That alone should tell you how crappy the Metro in France is compared with the tube. A dirty, nasty, disgusting mess. Quite a contrast, considering the rest of the city is relatively clean.

The opera house left us pretty tired—we had been walking for about 5 hours at this point. So Robbie took us back to the flat that he is staying at in Paris. It’s in the western part of town, and is very nice. One neat feature: the garage features a railroad style turn-table to point your car to the right stall. The flat is very spacious; it must have cost a fortune. But it was great to go to a place besides the hotel and just sit and relive old memories.

After this much-needed rest, we set out for Sacre-Coeur. On the way, we stopped by the famous Moulin Rouge, which of course is down in the district where all the sex shops are. But even this place is very nice, well landscaped, and clean. I’m sure it’s a bit different late at night, but at about sunset, you could hardly tell you were in a “seedy” part of town.

Sacre-Coeur is a church that was built as a memorial for soldiers that died in the Franco-Prussian war (1870-71). It took 46 years to build. The building was originally a shade of grey, but the sun has bleached it white. Unlike most buildings, therefore, it gets whiter every year. It is built on a hill at the highest (natural) point in Paris, and offers splendid vistas of the entire city. To get there, though, you have to walk up what seemed like a thousand very steep steps. Only when we got to the top did Robbie show me the funicular railway (cable car). Chotch.
We went inside the church, where mass was being performed. I can’t imagine worshipping here, however, as tourists were still allowed inside, and it was very distracting. The fact that the Mass was in French didn’t help much, either. We didn’t get to look around much, but the most striking feature was the huge Byzantine-icon mosaic of Christ. It was easily one of the most beautiful things I have seen. I found it a bit odd, however, that it was done in the style of an Icon. It seems the Orthodox Church is still rather influential, even though separate from the Catholic church. I noticed many icons in various churches in France—far more than there are in England.

Walking down from Sacre-Coeurs was obviously much easier than walking up. We took the metro to the Latin Quarter of Paris to find something good for dinner. The trick here was to find a place that didn’t have English menus, as you know that is a non-tourist place. We found a little brasserie not too far from the metro station. Had a wonderful steak, salad, and fries for a decent price, and then a CrËme Brule—which was heaven—for dessert. I was pleasantly surprised by the food in France. The American perception of French food is that is it either all pastries or all weird things like snails. However, I found this was not the case. Most everything we had was pretty simple: sandwiches, plain salads, pizza, and the like. Excepting dessert, it was not overtly rich, either. Just good, simple food with French bread.

At 11pm, after nearly 14 hours of being out in Paris, we finally made it back to the hotel, where I promptly went to bed.

Log Entry 37: Paris Day Three (Full day two) 7/30/2005

This morning I got up far earlier than I wanted to (which seems to have become a disturbing trend). Cozad wanted to go to the Palace of Versailles, so he left with a group about 8:45 to go do that. I, however, decided that I had seen enough Royal palaces, so I met up with Robbie and Patrick, and we set out from the Louvre.

First of all, distances in Paris are deceptively short. The Louvre really doesn’t seem that far away on the map, but it was a LONG walk there. We should have taken the Metro.

I did not realize that the Louvre is actually the old Royal Palace, from the 16th century. It was built on the site of a fortress from 1190. If you go down into the basement, you can still see some of the old walls of the fortress, which was pretty cool. The Louvre itself is huge. Robbie said that if you looked at every painting (just paintings, mind you) for 30 seconds, it would take five years to see it all.

The entrance to the museum is the famous glass pyramid, built in 1989. From the inside, the Pyramid is really breathtaking, but from the outside, it seems out of place next to the palace. It really is an odd choice for an entrance. It seems to me that the French have an Egyptian fetish. Napoleon took a lot of things back from Egypt during his war campaigns. Every year, the Egyptians ask for them back, and every year the French ignore them.

Anyway, the Louvre is so immense that we just barely scratched the surface of it. We really only came for two things, however: the Venus de Milo and the Mona Lisa. As we got there early, the crowds were not too bad, but they got worse as time went by.

On the way to the Mona Lisa, we stopped to see what remains of the French Crown Jewels, which isn’t much. The French Crown actually looks a bit fake, in my opinion, like cheap costume jewelry. It is a very different crown design than the English and Scottish crowns. Here again is perhaps evidence of the French’s dislike of the English. Everything must be different. The particular wing of the Louvre the jewels were in were once part of the state apartments, so everything was very ornate and gilded.

The Mona Lisa is, of course, one of the museum’s most famous residents. It is behind glass—unlike most of the Louvre’s paintings—so taking a picture of it is difficult, especially because every other idiot is trying to take a picture with a flash, which of course won’t work. It is rather disappointing, as it is a very small canvas—one of the smallest in the Italian wing. It doesn’t help that is directly across from a humongous painting that must be at least 30 by 40 feet. Perhaps our attraction to the painting is one of its many mysteries. Though the famous smile is of course the main attraction, in comparison with other paintings it is rather dull.

I would like to note here how surprised I was at the display philosophy of the Louvre. This is similar to how things were set up at the British museum. Most paintings do not have glass, and the barrier is only about a foot high, and a foot from the wall. There is nothing preventing anyone from simply reaching out and touching the canvases. Indeed, it is hard to resist doing so. The same goes for the statues. Excepting the Venus de Milo, all of them were simply out in the open. There were a few signs every now and then that said “don’t touch” (in French, of course), but for the most part there was nothing to prevent doing so. I even noticed how one of the statues, which was bronze that had been painted black, had places where the black had been rubbed off—an obvious result of thousands of visitors touching it. Even the photography stance was odd. Flash photography was “Strongly discouraged,” but not prohibited. These measures are in stark contrast to most American museums I’ve been to, which go miles to ensure that you don’t’ touch the artifacts. Perhaps the European idea of conservation and preservation is just different than our own.

After the Mona Lisa, we saw the Venus de Milo, the famous statue of a woman that is missing the arms. It is at the end of a long, bright hallway, which is a testament to the curators, as this greatly enhances the beauty of the statue. I was much more impressed by the Venus de Milo than I was of the Mona Lisa. You are allowed to walk all around the statue, so I was able to get lots of pictures, especially of the back, which you don’t normally see in photographs, which, it occurred to me, is odd. I did note, however, that the statue is not as smooth as it looks in some photographs. It’s pretty rough and beat up, which was a reminder of how old it really is.

Seeing these three things had taken up about an hour and a half, which gives you some idea of the Louvre’s immense size. We decided to forego exploring the museum further, and instead headed to the d’Orsay museum.

The Musee d’Orsay is built into an old Railway station, which was only used from 1900-1939. It was once even scheduled for demolition, but was instead turned into this marvelous museum, which houses art from the period of 1848-1914. Here is the home of the famous French impressionists and other “modern” art. The museum is much smaller than the Louvre, which is a blessing, as it is much easier to navigate.

Unlike the Louvre, the d’Orsay doesn’t really have a single famous work. I’m not really a fan of impressionist painting, so I was most impressed with the building itself. It is quite magnificent—a high point in Railway station design. Of the best features is an enormous gilded clock, which must have come in handy for passengers in the early 20th century. Perhaps no American station can rival the beauty of the d’Orsay.

Another focal point of the museum was a large cut-away model of the Opera house, which was extremely intricate. This let you see some of the things that we didn’t get to see in person, like the inner workings of the stage (quite complex) and some of the private rooms.

Finally, we saw the paintings by Toulouse-Lautrec, of Moulin Rouge fame. This offered a very different look at life in Paris. Lautrec’s paintings were more realistic; they depicted life as it was, not life as it should be or appeared to be.

After these two museums, it was time for a much-needed break, so we went back to the hotel for a quick nap. We met up with Cozad—back from Versailles—and headed out to the one big remaining thing in Paris we hadn’t seen: he Arc de Triomphe.

This massive arch was built for Napoleon. It was started in 1806, but not finished until the 1840s due to Napoleon’s fall from power. The arch is at the center of a giant roundabout, the equivalent of twelve lanes wide. On the outside lane, it can take almost five minutes to get around (with all the traffic, of course).

The top of the Arch is reached via a 284 step spiral staircase, which was back-breaking after the day’s museums. But the vista above was worth it. We were offered a 360 degree panorama of Paris, which was impressive. Perhaps the best part of the Arch, however, was watching the video-game like traffic in the roundabout below. I don’t know how the French manage to navigate it. There were lots of close calls. Why have roundabouts remained prevalent in Europe, but not in the US? Most cities have gotten rid of “traffic circles” altogether.

This brings me to another cultural point: it seems that the French are much more “monument crazy” than the English or the Americans. Paris is full of monuments, arches, and the like, all which serve little purpose except to remember old war heros (not necessarily victim, like the Vietnam wall in DC) or simply boast about how great they are. Though there is no doubt that there is great pride in America, in Paris I was overwhelmed by French pride. They are French, and proud of it.

After this long day, we walked down the Champs-Elysees—where we learned the meaning of “expensive”—and over again to the Latin Quarter to get a bite to eat. We had Pizza for dinner, which was really good. The crust was very thin, which meant eating a whole pizza was not nearly as stuffing as it is in the states.

To top off the day, we partook in the French pastime of drinking a bottle of wine in the grass in front of the Eiffel tower. It was the perfect end to our last full day in Paris.

Log Entry 38: Paris Day Four and the trip home 7/31/2005

We only had a short time in the morning, so I went to “Bedside Baptist” this week. Didn’t really want to go to Catholic church, anyway.

For our last day, Robbie took us to the Musee Marmosett, which was a very different experience from the Louvre and the d’Orsay. The Marmosett is a very small, private museum that houses some 66 works by Monet. It was here that I finally realized the lure of impressionist paintings. They are perfect at representing the mood of a scene, without the cold detail. This was not recognizable in the d’Orsay due to the extreme crowds.

The Marmosett also housed some early music manuscripts. It was interesting seeing Chant surrounded by beautifully crafted ornate drawings and colors.

We bid goodbye to Robbie, and our bus took us to the train station, where I was once again amazed at the apparent lack of security. Our seats on the way back were more of a business-class affair, which was an dramatic improvement over the coach-class seats on the way over. One wonders what first class must be like.

Once back in London—God, it was good to be back in country that speaks English—we took the tube to Paddington, and caught a fast train to Reading, and then a train to Oxford. All in all, about 6 hours to get from Paris to Oxford. Not bad at all.

Some final remarks about Paris: The city has its charm, but the 16th-19th century buildings grow tiresome. There are almost no medieval buildings in the city, which makes the whole city seem a bit bland. Like the stereotype, the people do come across as a bit rude, though I think this is simply because they are a bit more matter-of-fact than the English of Americans. The Metro was a disgrace; how can they have such a great high-speed train network and such a horrid, slow, disgusting underground? The pride of the French is evident everywhere, which is a little unnerving after awhile—you definitely feel like an outsider, unlike the feeling of welcome I get from the English. Though some of this may, of course, be attributed to the language difference. If you like art, wine, and fashion, Paris is the place to be. Unfortunately, that’s about all it offers. I enjoyed the trip, but unlike England, I don’t see the need to go back anytime soon.

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