A Day in Stratford-Upon-Avon

There were a few different classes going on a daytrip to Stratford-Upon-Avon, to include our Library class, a theater class, and a class studying Shakespeare. That meant that there were enough of us that it was simpler to book a bus ("coach," sorry I keep forgetting) or two instead of buying a lot of train tickets. So it was that we were allowed to have an easy morning, congregating in the courtyard at 10:00 to load the coach and leave at 10:30. It's about a three-hour drive to Stratford-Upon-Avon, and I spent it chatting with friends--who managed to get the song "Dance Magic Dance" from "Labyrinth" stuck in my head for the rest of the day after a discussion of various random films like "Avatar," "Fern Gully," and "Labyrinth"-- reading a book ("Gaudy Night," by Dorothy Sayers), and then taking a short nap.
It was about time to eat lunch when we arrived and parked the bus by the Visitors and Recreation Centre. Some were desperately keen on eating tea at the appropriate hour and so simply emptied a snack machine of half of its contents for the time being, but I and a few friends thought it would be nice to go ahead and have some lunch. We found a pleasant little place called The Red Lion, which offered the great deal of 2 meals from a certain portion of the menu for £10. They were decently portioned meals too; one friend had a chicken burger and some sides, I had a lasagna (and promptly learned how to use my Shout pen), and there were some other good options as well. I was rather amused to spot fajitas on their regular menu, which were described as being made with "Cajun spices."
We proceeded from the Red Lion to wander around town for a bit to get our bearings. We found our way to the center of town, and the Stratford-Upon-Avon Library, just down the street from Shakespeare's birthplace and the Shakespeare Centre. The library is a simple Carnegie public library tucked in one of the main streets of Stratford-Upon-Avon. It is standard for public libraries in the UK to charge a small fee for checking out DVDs and similar media, and the Stratford-Upon-Avon library is no exception. An examination of the fee chart prompted discussion in our group over the differences between UK and USA public libraries, in that while USA libraries don't charge for the initial checking out of such an item, their late fees for any item tend to be higher than those of a UK public library. The first floor housed the circulation area, 16 computer desktops connected to the internet and free to use (I saw someone from our class using one to check email), and the media collections. There was also a general fiction area, in which we noted that there was nothing on the spine to show where books went, as tends to be the practice in the USA. However, books were still perfectly alphabetized, at least in the section I examined. A bookcase of books interesting to teens and young adults was placed near the doorway between the adult collections and the childrens' room. Upstairs was the nonfiction collections, dubbed "The Information Centre." A quick glance over titles showed everything from a book of crafty fashion how-tos called "Lovely Things to Make for Girls of Slender Means," with a quote on the inside from the Muriel Sparks book "Girls of Slender Means," to a book on surviving the urban jungle that held the catchy title "How to Predict the Weather with a Cup of Coffee." There was also a small bookcase of self-improvement books and books on weathering emotional and psychological problems.
After examining and analyzing the Stratford-Upon-Avon Library, we wandered for a while longer about the area, popping in and out of a few shops, while we discussed What We Should Do Next. We wanted to see as much as we could, but preferred to not have to pay to go inside every single Shakespeare house to see the same basic setup. Then we spotted the City Sightseeing coach, which had been mentioned both by our professor and by my guidebook, so we decided to do that. How it works is you find one of the buses on its stops, hop on and buy a ticket (a student costs £9.50), and then in return you get not only a ticket but also a map of the sites and a pair of earphones. It's an open-top double-decker bus, so of course we had to go up top. It's a lovely view, and a great way to see everything without paying for every little thing. The only things you want to make sure of are that you are not on the side of the bus that's close to the trees--as we were, and were joking about almost getting hit by tree branches for the rest of the day-- and that you keep a hand on a railing because otherwise you can get dumped out of your seat by the bus turning left or right. And, as I found out, never wear bright yellow on a sunny day, because it attracts small insects like crazy. Most of them were something like gnats, and easily dislodged from my person, but I did have one small scare with a large yellow-jacket  who took some persuading to let loose of my shirt. Oh, and make sure you hold on to your belongings (I can't tell you how many maps were sliding around by the end of the trip) and that you don't mind some wind if you're going to sit up top.
After that, we looked around on our own for a bit longer, found a marvelous store called Poundland that's like Dollar Tree but with pounds and arguably more stuff and name brands (Toblerone!). Then we looked around the river and enjoyed watching the swimming swans, geese and ducks. By then most of our time was gone, and we were getting hungry and wanted to eat before the show, so we popped in to a little place by the river called Barnaby's Fish. Another word to the wise: only order fish and chips if you are very hungry or have a friend willing to eat some of your chips. Every time I've had fish and chips (which taste like cafeteria french fries, by the by) the portions have always been very generous.
Then we met up with others of our group for a quick preview of the context in which "The Winter's Tale" was first presented (they didn't want to spoil any of the plot, so they didn't tell us any), and we marched over to the Courtyard Theatre through what began as a slight drizzle and ended in a bit of a downpour by the time we were heading down the street.
I can't begin to tell you much about the production of "The Winter's Tale" by the Royal Shakespeare Company, except to say it was marvelous! Amazing actors, who made the whole thing a mix of poignant and emotional moments spun between occasional bits of merriment. A word to those who would think to bring children or younger scholars: don't. The play is long and involves psychological and emotional trauma, suspected adultery, death, child abandonment, someone getting eaten by a bear, and lewd comedy (in this particular case, inflatible items made to look like male private parts featured prominently in a comical dance). However, I must say that I doubt any other theater I could go to could be quite as great as this one was, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.
Image from Microsoft ClipArt

The London Library

Imagine a library whose list of patrons read like a Who's Who of Literature, which appears small from the outside but is really several buildings put together, and where 97% of all the books in the collection may be checked out and taken home. That library is the London Library, the largest independent lending library in the world.

The London Library is a subscription-based lending library which was founded by Thomas Carlyle in 1841. Carlyle loved libraries but wanted to be able to take library books home to read, which was not allowed in the libraries available at the time, so Carlyle decided to start his own lending library with help from a few friends, such as Charles Dickens. The library retains that policy, and almost every single book it owns is available to be checked out. What's on the shelves? Almost anything published after 1700. Items published before 1700 are kept in a seperate area for better preservation conditions, but most are still available to patrons-- "We're not a museum." There is also no limit to how long a book may be lent, as long as it is not needed by another patron. The London Library has its own classification system, by topic and by size.  It is very much loved by its readers, who tend to bequeath their own amazing literary collections to the library. The library's building has plenty of quirks, having a floor plan lovingly described as "labyrinthine," floors which can be seen through down several levels, and lights which are often left off when unused that it has often been admitted that "You can't be afraid of heights or the dark" if you are to use it. All the same, these eccentricites are often touted as "Half the fun!" of using the London Library. There's a multicultural feel in the stacks, as all 50 languages represented reside side by side with their English counterparts. Former members include Charles Dickens, Rudyard Kipling, George Bernard Shaw, T.S. Eliot, Arthur Conan Doyle...The list continues farther than this blog may go. The library owns copies of every single issue that The Times has printed, and continues to collect hardcopies while now collecting the digital copies as well. The online catalogue includes everything post-1950, and more of the materials are being added daily.

Image courtesy of Microsoft Clipart.

A Lazy Morning & A Trip to the London Transportation Museum

I had a hazy plan in mind for today as I went to bed last night: sleep in, take it easy, get some laundry done, and, if there was enough time after all of that, head over to Covent Garden and the London Transportation Museum. Well, I managed to sleep until about 8:30, then got up, took it relatively easy in that I did not allow myself to look at the clock or hurry myself too much, got all my laundry things together, and headed out the door. The laundry facilities are actually in the same building as our rooms are, except that to get in that area you must go out to the street and back in another door. To get in that door you must swipe your key, then you do a u-turn left and go through another door, then down a winding staircase and through a couple more doors. All in all, it feels like you might be descending to a dungeon. Except when you get there you pay, and at the end of it all you get to go out with clean clothes and (hopefully) all of the belongings you had brought in with you. I had a bit of trial-and-error the first time I did laundry here, in that I found out the wrong way that the washer requires exactly £1.20 and doesn't give any change back, but though the dryer may say "0.20" you can give it more and in fact should if you want to get more than about 10 minutes' worth of drying. This time, however, I came prepared with the exact change I needed, and was able to check email and a few other things online while everything was working as it should. I managed to finish my laundry and have it put up a little after 11:00, and then set out for the London Transportation Museum.

 I'd seen something about the London Transportation Museum before I came (I think it was in one of my guidebooks, or perhaps I saw something about it online?), and had seen where it was on one of our LondonAlive Orientation tours. A few friends had been in the building, but had only gone to the store--although they told me it was a very good one, and indeed it was. So I didn't really know too much of what to expect when I walked in the doors. It was the first venue that I have gone to that required buying a ticket, because so far it has either been something that's free and/or it's been a part of class and any fees have been paid for ahead of time. It was a well priced place, a student ticket only costs £6. A student could technically get in for £5, but if they pay £6 a certain amount of their ticket price counts as a charitable donation, which helps the museum get a certain amount of money in tax breaks. An adult ticket costs only a bit more, and I think I saw a poster that said kids got in free.

I highly recommend the museum. It had something for every age group, from young kids through adults. Once you have purchased your ticket you are also given a map and a large card that's titled "The Stamper Trail," and pointed to the automatic door you want to go through. Since the museum has many different levels which wind in and out of one another (you enter and exit through the same hallway), I decided to go on the Stamper Trail. This starts out simply in the entrance/exit hall with a tall green post marked "1." You put in your card and pressed down on a button on the top, and it either put a stamp on your card or stamped a silhouette into your card. Then all you had to do was follow the map on the back of the card, and not only do you get to see everything in the museum (although not neccesarily in chronological order) but also you collect all 13 stamps from the stations along the way. I saw a school group go through ahead of me, and the stamper trail kept them going throughout the entire museum while maintaining their levels of excitement and interest. There's areas strategically placed where you could sit and rest for a bit with a younger one, including one on the ground floor that looked like it was a coloring station. While adults may mosey along and read everything, and there were many intriguing surprises along the way for the slow-going (pull-out drawers of artifacts!), there were plenty of things to keep the high-energy crowd moving, such as several different train cars, carriages and other forms of transportation that you could climb right in, sometimes with models posed in costumes of the particular time period. I also saw an area that simulated driving the tube (metro). The actual history and learning experience was focused on the timeline of London's different means of transportation, from rowing boats and horse carriages to today's mix of the tube, coaches (buses), boats, taxis, etc. Along the way you see models of the Cut and Cover method which started the underground tube systems, digging by hand and then quickly as possible covering what had already been dug against the weather. Pull out a drawer and find examples of season passes for the tube from 1900 to 1950. Learn details about the first time elevators and escalators were used, as well as when electricity began to impact the transportation industry. Near the end, pick a number of options in an either/or fashion and you get an image of the transportation future you predicted, including pictures and details of what common issues would affect that world in 2025. Then, of course, walk through the marvelous store on your way out.
There's also a lot of fun to be had on the London Transportation Museum website, from shopping (all the goodness of the original, plus extra personalization options), to exploring the collections (there's some extra things which are only online, like a really neat film collection 1910-present), to curating your own exhibit with items from the museum.
Image courtesy of Microsoft Clipart.

A Day in Greenwich

Today, in spite of getting in late last night (see previous post for details), we gathered before 8:00 and set off as the hour struck. After a pleasant walk along the part of the south bank of the Thames which is near our dorms, we arrived at the London Eye. While the students were unsure about how the London Eye would help us get to Greenwich, when we actually got up close we noticed the small gateway next to it, which leads to a pier. We boarded a small cutter and had an enjoyable ride down the Thames to Greenwich.We made such good time that we arrived before anything had opened, so we were dismissed for half an hour and had pleasant walks around town and a quick bite to eat before we regrouped. We walked through the Old Royal Navy College, had a peek into the famous Painted Hall, saw the marker which showed the grounds once housed the palace where Henry the VIII and his daughters Mary and Elizabeth were born. Then it was past Queen Anne's House and on to the National Maritime Museum and its inhouse library, comprised of the Cairn Library and the E-Library's online sources.
The Cairn Library is the original library of the National Maritime Museum, operating in tandem with the museum since opening in 1937. It is one of if not the largest maritime library. Named after its founder, Sir James Caird, the library includes manuscripts, charts, journals, and other similar materials. It is focused on such topics as immigration, navigatoin, piracy, astronomy (the Royal Observatory is just up the hill), voyages, exploration, naval architecture, and both the merchant and the Royal navies. The Cairn library is at present open only 3 days a week because they are on their way to a new facility which will open next year. Twelve people form the staff of the library, one staff member primarily focusing on behind-the-scenes work and two employees primarily manning the desk in the reception area, which serves not only the immediate area's E-Library terminals, but also at times serves as an information center for the whole museum. At full strength, the library processes 3-4,000 information requests a year. The library's materials are divided into two categories: Modern, featuring materials from after the year 1850, and Rare, which is comprised of items which predate 1850. There are 70,000 items total, which take up about 4 miles of shelving. There are at present two different off-site storage areas, but when the new facilities open next year the collections will be more centralized. You should request what materials you'll need before you arrive, as it can take a few days at present for materials to be retrieved from the off-site facilities. There are very specific rules to be followed when using the library, such as no stacking open books on top of each other, using both hands for handling items, only carrying three items at a time, not placing a book face-down, only 3 books may be stacked on a desk, the book must be placed on the desk and not over the edge, etc. All of these rules prevent mishaps and damage to the materials.
As part of our tour, we were shown a number of items which were examples of the type of materials which comprise the collection. First in the Rare category was a book entitled "Principles of Mr. Harrison's Timekeeper," which referred to the timekeeping devices by John Harrison which solved the problems of longitude. While the book was for the most part printed, the illustrations were accompanied by handwriting which is quite probably that of Mr. Harrison himself.
The next book was interesting enough in of itself, a sailcloth-bound treatise on "Domestic Medicine" from 1779. However, what makes it especially interesting is that this particular copy was the one taken on the ship The HMS Bounty. Those who, like me, had no clue what this meant will be happy to peruse the Wikipedia page or perhaps just read on for the short version of the story. The Bounty's crew mutineed, sent the captain, the surgeon, and other loyalists off in one of the small boats, and retired to a relatively unknown island to hide from the rest of the Navy. This book was one of the things they took with them to the island. They were found some twenty or so years later, and therefore dealt with, but the book (and an authentic letter from one of the mutineers) survived and somehow made its way to the Cairn Library.
The third book that was shown was one of the first books written, printed, and bound in Antarctica, as part of an excursion by Shackleton. Evidently, since the explorers knew that they would be stuck inside and unable to travel in the very cold winter, they brought along a printing press and made their own publication. It features articles, poems, and illustrations by the artist officially accompanying the voyage, George Marston. There were approximately 100 books made at 120 pages each, and 20-30 were bound with bits of the packing boxes. The printing press had been donated by a company which also taught some of the travelers beforehand some tricks of the printing trade so they'd know how to work the press in the Antarctic.
The fourth set we were shown were books chronicling a "Narrative of the Loss of the Royal George." The Royal George was a grand ship until one day as it was being repaired at harbour something went amiss with a boat coming near, some of the gun ports weren't closed correctly and the ship promptly and sadly sank, taking with it 900 people who were aboard. If the number seems large, keep in mind it was a very large ship, there were the sailors who manned the ship, since it was at harbour for some time there were the families of the sailors who were at the time living on the ship as well, then there were all the different people who were reparing the ship at that time. The sunken ship stayed in the harbour until 1782, when it was blown up and sent to its rest. Allegedly, each of the small woodbound books that tell the tale were bound with pieces of the ship. The original author is unknown.
At this point, the mini-groups switched places and we were treated to more items of interest.
First, an early atlas, or "a very early GPS," as our guide put it. It is part of the story of Basil Ringrose, who sadly for someone with such a distinctive name does not have his own Wikipedia page. Anyway, Basil Ringrose was a part of the Royal Navy until one day he decided to be a pirate. He joined up with a buddy of his who was into piracy and they managed to attack and conquer a Spanish ship, which held the original atlas from which the one we saw today was copied, by Basil himself. What's the big deal? You might say, besides being grounds for international war, but this atlas included highly detailed maps covering the entire new world, down to locations of forts, churches, etc. This was such good news to the English that Ringrose and his friends were pardoned for their actions upon delivering the goods.
Next was the handwritten journal of an English minister in the year 1812. Why is this interesting enough to be shown in a tour? Because this minister decided when he was in his 40s that it would be fun to have an adventure and sign up as chaplain for a voyage in the Royal Navy. His journal gives a fresh and intriguing look into Navy life from one unaccustomed to it.
There's only one more after this one, keep reading. An 1811 crew list shows an interesting story. While at first glance it shows plenty of men for the job of naval defense, upon further examination one begins to question it. For example, there were 4 hairdressers, 2 weavers, 7 miners, and 5 farmers signed up. In other words, this was a very interesting place to be while these people learned the ropes, literally.
Last but not least, we were shown a small book from a US frigate that was weighted down with lead shot sewn along the binding so it would quickly sink. Not very common, since most things associated with ships are supposed to float. But this was a book of US signals, which in spite of being weighted managed to be captured in the 15 minute battle over the USS Chesapeake. Which meant that there were over 790 signals that had to be rewritten during the War of 1812.
Pardon me, I missed one. The final items were a duo: a letter from Admiral Nelson telling his wife to leave him alone (he had someone else to occupy his time), ironically ending with the fashion of the day as "from your most affectionate husband," and a sweet and heartbroken letter from Mrs. Nelson to one of Nelson's aides, trying to reconcile and make the marriage work again.
On to the rest of the day and more happy news. After our tour, we split up into small groups and continued our day from there. My group visited the rest of the museum, including a sweet and intriguing exhibit on the history of toy boats--did you know that when the round pond in Kensington Gardens was drained once, they found 150 toy boats in it? Many fascinating examples later, we walked up to the Royal Observatory, which was no small feat. The path up the heel was so steep that I didn't dare stop walking until I reached the top, because I was afraid if I stopped I would automatically begin sliding downhill! It was great exercise. Then we reached the only place on earth that would dare claim itself as the home of time and longitude. I now have a certificate which states that I straddled the hemispheres at a precise time, although really it was a few minutes after I had my picture taken at 0 degrees longitude. Then we gaggled back down to Greenwich, had lunch at the Royal Arms pub (my first pub meal, actually), then back on to the ferry and back to London.
Image courtesy of Microsoft Clipart.

Bonjour, Paris!

Well, my whirlwind weekend in Paris ended at about 11:00 London time last night, clocking in right at 72 hours, only approximately 10 of which were spent sleeping. I will be catching up on sleep starting tonight, because class was still bright and early this morning, leaving before 8:00 to catch a ferry for Greenwich. But that's another support group, and for that matter another post.
After my last post I ate supper and finished packing, then had a nice chat with folks back home. This kept me enough awake to make sure everything was secured and/or packed properly and stagger downstairs and into the dorm courtyard (a standard meeting place) a little while before 11:00 P.M.
Others who were also going on the Paris subtrip journeyed out at different intervals, and we chatted for a while before the bus (pardon me, "coach") arrived. It was a nice enough ride, a double-decker with enough seats for everyone to fit with only one or two empty ones left.
While I am usually a night owl, I am not very much of one when I am getting over jetlag, so I drifted in and out during the drive to Dover. Actually, I think I was awake for almost all of it, although I was trying to get myself to sleep and rested my eyes right about the time we actually got there. While I (in the top deck, if you were wondering) witnessed the drive out of London and the waiting around at Dover (I think we missed the ferry we were initially aiming for, but since they didn't spread details I'm not absolutely sure), I accidentaly missed the moment when we actually drove onto the ferry. There wasn't a passport check at any point of the process. As soon as the coach was parked, those who were sleeping were roused and we all piled out and up the stairs into the main area of the ferry. By now it was after 2:00 AM. Most automatically claimed whatever couches were around and rested, I prowled around for a few minutes first to get the lay of the land--I didn't feel comfortable going to sleep somewhere I hadn't been before without at least looking around a bit. As soon as we began sailing a number of outlets opened up, including a coffee shop, a store that offered high-end products without tax, and a bookstore (which I saw first but took a while to open up).I was surprised by how much Disney advertising was around the ship, then saw a poster that explained why: there's a Disney themepark in some part of Paris.  I cashed a traveler's check and exchanged it for Euros, then looked around a bit in the now-open bookstore and found a good Paris map for a nice price. When someone in charge feels like it's important for someone my age to do most things in strange cities on their own, a map is a very nice thing to have. Feeling much better prepared for the somewhat imminent arrival, I then settled in a chair in one of the lounges and attempted to rest. It was about 2:30 AM by that time.
Some time later (I wasn't allowing myself to check my watch), we were rounded up and put back on the bus, which then took its turn getting off the ship and continuing on its merry way. This was when I successfully managed to get some sleep, only waking up as we were on the outskirts of Paris a couple of hours later. We had gained an hour's time difference, so it was about 9 or 10:00 when we arrived at our hotel, whose sign simply read Touring Hotel, near the edge of the Latin Quarter on the Rue Corvisard. We offloaded the bus and shuffled in; some lucky ones went up to their ready rooms, the rest of us were shown to a conference room for us to store our luggage in until ours were ready as well. I ran into a nearby restroom with a wipe and my makeup case and felt much better after a nice facial scrub and a quick but effective swipe of undereye cover. I thought I looked like a hag in training, but I was given the unsolicited compliment that I looked "fresh." There was a large box of fresh Parisian pastries waiting for us, which could have been viewed as a bribe or a peace offering by some. Then they handed out two-day passes to the Paris Metro system and--wait for it--free maps of Paris. Ah, well. I had an extra souvenir, but I still think the map I bought was clearer, and since it wasn't crammed for space with advertising bits it was easier to read and navigate by.
After giving us time to wolf down the pastries and encouraging us to have some coffee in the breakfast area of the hotel, we were divvied up into our outing groups, given an interesting pep talk ("I know you're tired, you're grouchy, and you haven't slept much, but....") and sent off into the wild blue yonder of Paris.
The prof in charge of my tour was one that I had met before once or twice, a thoroughly French person with a French name that I don't know how to spell, and so for the time being will leave him nameless. He led our bunch of clueless and sleepless students to the Rodin gardens and museum (technically known as the Musee Rodin), and lectured on the Art of Rodin and the specific contexts of some of the more prominent statues in the gardens. He would get so far into his lectures that our group of less than 20 quickly grew until about half the people in the area had joined our little tour. Then we went out and through historically significant parts of Paris, such as Les Invalides (within sight of the Eiffel Tower, on the horizon!) and into the Musee d'Orsay. We were given 45 minutes to look around on our own, or perhaps get something to eat or drink (it being around lunchtime by this point), and were told to meet at the bottom of the stairs at 2:30. Still being full from the large and late pastry breakfast, I wandered around the museum and admired the collection of works from the impressionist and post-impressionist periods. Plenty of Monet, Manet, Van Gogh (including his self-portrait), Renoir (inlcuding one small but vibrant study for Waterlilies). Checking my clock, I knew my 45 minutes were coming to a close, yet my watch still said that it was a few minutes before 1:30. I looked up at the large clock which is prominently featured in the design of the former train station-turned museum, and found my watch to be short an hour. This was how I found out about the 1-hour time difference between London and Paris. Here's a link to a bit of Musee d'Orsay fun--an interactive map: click on any area of the museum and it will show you what art is kept there.
Because it took others in our group (including the instructor) longer to figure out the difference in time, I joined a couple other people who were done and walked back to the hotel. Did I mention that Paris was rather hot? By hot, I mean that we all baked. I was astonished to find that after Paris I had the beginnings of a tan. To be clear, I am still only slightly less pale than someone who lives in a cave or some other sunless place, but now that paleness is a little more golden than it was. It's slight enough that someone had to examine my face for about a minute before they could detect it, but since it's the closest thing to a summer tan I've had in years I am thrilled. But back to the baking, and still un-airconditioned Paris. I'm pretty sure that I chugged my body weight in water in a continuous attempt to remain hydrated, and was most definitely "glowing," to use the genteel term for what (from anyone but a lady) might be called sweating. Fellow students waxied poetic about the fans they had left behind in London. A common discussion topic (besides ice and personal fans) was How Many Showers Have You Taken Today? What amused me was the fact that all the showers mentioned were taken with hot water.
To continue with the narrative, I had a small lunch back in my hotel room (my first ever all to myself), then freshened up. After allowing myself some time to look over schedules, plan, plot, and journal, it was time to assemble for The Dinner. This was something mentioned throughout all of the planning for this trip, without very many actual details. What it ended up being was everyone starting out in a long caravan of hungry people who, upon direction from the person who set up reservations, split off into various eateries around Paris. I was in the second-to-last group, after the largest group and before the vegetarians and vegans' group. There were about a dozen of us in a cozy French restaraunt, armed with translated menus for a 3-course meal with blessings and a promise of payment from the program director. While some people ordered the item which they didn't know anything about, I stuck with food that consisted of ingredients I knew. First I had an appetizer of ham and cheese wrapped together very nicely (it was fancy enough that I took a picture to show you), then beef and onions with a side of potatoes--also something much more fancy and utterly delectable than it sounds (San Antonio friends, it compared to The Barn Door in taste!)--finished with a dessert of fruit. While some were ready to hit the karaoke bar they saw on the way, I and a few friends found our way back to the hotel and went to bed. Unfortunately for me way up on the fourth floor of the hotel which was generally agreed to be about 20 degrees warmer than outside, I couldn't get my window open that night, so I didn't sleep very much. However, I did manage to get enough sleep to get up the next morning bright and early and be ready in time for an excursion to the Louvre, where I spent the rest of the morning and a bit of the afternoon. I saw the one and only Mona Lisa, Winged Victory, the Muse of the Louvre (a little-noticed but beautiful statue), Psyche and Cupid, and the Venus de Milo, among many other amazing sculptures, paintings, and some "awesome ceiling alerts." Then I took off with two new friends, a student and a literature professor (who knows French very well, and translated as needed), and we saw some more sights. A beatiful and moving memorial for those who were deported from France when Hitler was in control of Paris (I'm providing a link to the Wikipedia page about it), the historical and well-known bookstore where Hemingway was known to hang out called Shakespeare and Co. The lesser-known Canadian bookstore which was marvelously jam-packed with books, Notre Dame Cathedral, a small eatery with marvelous sorbet that we ducked into to avoid some rain. Just a little bit of everything in Paris. We had some time off after we got back, then it was off to the Eiffel Tower, or the Tour Eiffel as the natives call it. We met up with the rest of our group in the middle of the area underneath, then at the appropriate moment all moved down to the river Seine where we had tickets to a lovely boat cruise as the sun set (starting at about 10:00 at night, in case you were wondering). Then we oohed and aahed at the Eiffel's lights, and dispersed. I and a small group of friends did a quick trip over to the Arc de Triomphe, getting there just too late to cross in the underpass and actually stand in it but still getting a pleasant view from an adjacent street corner. Then it was back to the hotel and to bed, with a friend managing to open the previously obstinate window in no time flat.
Sunday morning I arose, got dressed, packed almost everything, went down for breakfast, came back up and packed my toothbrush and toothpaste, checked out of my room, stowed my bag back in the conference room, then went out with the group to a Gregorian mass at Notre Dame Cathedral. I loved the music, and the acoustics were absolutely amazing. Afterwards our group did a short self-guided tour around the cathedral as another mass started, then exited the building, walked over the bridge, and ate lunch at a pleasant Italian restaurant outside where we only had to look over in a certain direction to see the cathedral. Then we made our way back to the hotel, loaded our luggage into the bus, waited a while and then loaded ourselves into the bus, and began our journey back.
The good news: we made it back to the dorms safely, and no one was deported at the UK passport check in Calais. The bad news: our bus had no air-conditioning, and were my fellow students not so limp from heat I think there would have been a mutiny. As it was, most people inhaled ice cream at the one stop before Calais, and almost everyone bought a water bottle only slightly smaller than themselves. We enjoyed the crossing back over. I translated my euros back into £, walked around an open deck for a bit in the marvelous breeze, and then had my first fish and chips in the ferry food court. Then it was reluctantly back into the bus for about another hour and a half, and then just unloading back at the dorms. I was asleep within the hour.
Image from Microsoft ClipArt

One Final Post Before Dinner

I've been in the computer lab for a while now typing everything up, and I'm really ready to take a break and eat, but I have a few more things to share with y'all before I do.
First, a bit of irony: Oxford is having an Alice day, and I'm going to miss it! But this irony is here because of a very special reason: I'm going to Paris! Louvre, here I come. I may not be able to post about my weekend's adventures until I get back at the end of the weekend, but I'll do so when I can.
One ad that I haven't minded seeing umpteen times in the Tube (that's the London metro, in case I haven't mentioned that) is these really neat ads called Tube or False? Each one has an intriguing statement about the Tube's role in the development of London, then asks you whether you know it is true or false. The link is to the website, which is the only way you can actually find out whether you were right or not.
Do you want to hear more about what's going on in this study abroad trip, but are tired of hearing me yak about it (say it ain't so) or just want to hear someone else's side of the story? Here's some of the travel blogs of my classmates, Jade, Nicole, Ella, and Allison. I have not read every single word on their blogs, so I apologize if there's something there you don't like, but I hope you may enjoy the possibility of reading someone else's account every now and then.
I'm off to eat and pack! I'll write more later.

The British Library

I'm going to be very honest with you and admit something unflattering about myself. There have been a few moments on this trip where I stare at the amazing collections housed in a single collection and think "They have all this?!? That can't be fair..." Then, of course, the voice of logic chimes in that since whatever it is in several cases originated in this country, it probably is more fair than I want it to be.
I had several of those moments today in the British Library.
To start with, the British Library has approximately 175 million items in its collections. Despite the fact that all of the books are stored only by size (no Dewey Decimal!) to limit the amount of space used per item, that still tallies up to about 800-900 million miles of shelving. A good portion of the books in the London section of the British Library is stored in the largest subterannean tower in Europe. And the British Library's collection is continuing to grow every day of the year. So even to a dedicated bibliophile, that's a LOT of books.
What does the British Library try to do with all of these books? Preserve them! Which would sound simple enough except for the fact that about 200 years ago papermakers started using pulp instead of rags to make paper, and "the bane of the library world" (acidic paper) was born. This is part of why a large portion of the British Library's collection in London is stored in the labyrinth mentioned previously; they can maintain the perfect temperature for the coexistence of humans and books, 17 degrees Celsius, with 50% humidity. Also, whatever water is dripping around drains down to the lowest floor of the subterannean tower, which features tanks and pumps to put all the water back where it belongs, in the Thames. So even when it is flooding, the basement treasure house remains nice and dry.
Another interesting feature of the library is that from a certain angle it looks like a nautical vessel. Apparently one of the main figures in the making of the British Library's own building (whose name I somehow did not write down, and therefore do not at all remember) was formerly in the British Navy, and righted the wrong of never having the experience of captaining a ship by building the library in the shape of one.
For some reason it hadn't occured to me that the British Library would collect stamps, but they have the largest Philatelic (that's your vocab word of the day, meaning "stamp") collection in the world, with over 8.25 million, and even have the printing press of the first British postage stamp nearby to boot.
The British Library works a bit differently than others. There's a very strong registration process to get a reader's card, including providing documentation of your identity and address and sitting through an interview with a Library employee. By law, if someone is going to recieve a card, they will recieve it within an hour and ten minutes from when they stepped into the registration room. This process and its documentation is what is responsible for nabbing someone from the Middle East who had begun a habit of stealing precious documents from the library--he had given his true address for his reader card, so they just paid him a little visit and found all that he had taken. After you get your reader's card, you must know exactly what you're looking for before you come in to look at materials. The fact that so many things are now online helps with this.
Next in our tour was a behind-the-scenes look at the Automated Book Retrieval System, a really neat thing to see. When a reader requests a book, down in the basement two identical slips are printed out complete with a barcode and information about what book, where it's located, who requested it, and what desk they are sitting at. A library assistant ( there are approximately 200) then takes handfuls of slips with a rolling cart, procures the different books, leaving an orange envelope with the first slip tucked in where the book is kept. The second slip is tucked into the book. When a cart is full, the assistant takes them over to an ABRS portal, scans each book's slip, places them each in their own "basket" (plastic bin), scans the barcode on the bin, scans the destination (there are a lot of different reading rooms, seperated by topic), and sends the books off into the system. The system talks with various other computer systems in place, including the integrated catalog, and not only gets each book successfully to its destination without harm, but reroutes it to avoid traffic. There are 22,000 different routes the books might be taken, but they are at their destination in 20 minutes or less than the point in time that they were requested (by law). Then a light comes on to let the patron know that their book has arrived, and the reader simply goes over to a particular desk to recieve their book(s).
Other amazing things about the British Library: it has a really neat interactive computer program called "Turning the Pages," which describes perfectly what you get to do with sections from 6 historical books of amazing value. The Sherborne Missal, c. 1400; the Lisbon Bible, 1482; an Ethiopic Bible from the 17th century; the Sultan Baybars' Quran; "The Golf Book," a Book of Hours from the 1540s famous for one of its illustrations featuring an early game of Golf; and William Blake's notebook, procured in 1787 and used for over 30 years. I looked around most of these books while I was in the library, but apparently you can also download the program here and try it out at home.
Here's where the museum envy occured: the British Library's collection of their treasures. They have, among other things, Jane Austen's writing desk and early notebooks; an original (handwritten) copy of Jane Eyre; the first major music book of England; the earliest version, called a "composition draft," of Handel's Messiah. The libretto for the 1st performance of Handel's Messiah; Mozart's marriage contract; the signature draft of Mozart's Horn Concerto in E flat; Haydn's autograph score of his Symphony no. 96. Haydn's publishing contract; Beethoven's tuning fork, which was also owned by Gustav Holst and Ralph  Vaughan Williams. Beethoven's atuograph score of his Violin Sonata in G Major, op. 30/3. An original score of Mendelssohn's Wedding March; Elgar's Third Symphony, begun about the time he died, complete with random doodles and other writer's block symptoms. An entire collection of Beatles items, including papers used in writing "I Want to Hold your Hand" and "Help!" Julian Lennon's first birthday card, on which John had jotted down his work on the composition of "A Hard Day's Night." An envelope which Paul McCartney used to write the lyrics for "Michelle." Another collection of Lewis Carrol's "Alice" books, beginning with the original copy of "Alice in Wonderland," originally titled before it was published as "Alice's Adventures Underground." Various prints for various editions by such different artists as Mervyn Peake, Salvador Dali (that one was really interesting), and Marketa Prachatika, and a Russian version translated by Vladimir Nabokov. A version with the original Tenniel illustrations, but printed in shorthand. A pretend "Alice" book focusing on the glories of Guinness beer, and the original woodblocks used to print Tenniel's illustrations.
Wouldn't you love it if they shared some of this stuff with the rest of us? I see a FaceBook group starting now, campaigning for traveling exhibits by the great artifact treasure houses of the world...
P.S. There's many impressive online features of the British Library, such as online exhibitions and an online gallery. Check it out!
P.P.S. Current image courtesy of the Wikipedia page for the British Library.