Not for nearly the first time on this Foggian journey I awoke in the uncomfortable seat of an airplane. No matter the circumstances it is an unpleasant feeling, since it is a fair bet that the sleep will have been brief and painful, and this was no exception. I had been made to pay once again for the anatomical misunderstanding which led engineers to design airline seats as they did, and I fear my tailbone will never quite forgive me for it. It was both odd and a little disconcerting to have flown for 13 hours and only shifted over one time zone (and it would have been no time zones if the United Kingdom didn't insist on being different from her continental neighbors). I'm much more used to longitudinal flights than latitudinal ones, and this flight threw me for a mental loop. It was also strange to know that the plane had been over land for most of the flight, with brief exceptions near West Africa and the Mediterranean Sea, as well as the couple of minutes or so we spent over the English Channel. As we descended into Heathrow Airport my ears began to hurt as a result of the change in pressure, and the agony only began to increase as we circled above the airport. We had gotten there a little early and due to noise regulations no planes are permitted to land before 6:00 in the morning. By the time we landed I was actually in a decent amount of pain from not being able to clear my ears, which was a new experience for me in flying. Sure, it had happened to me before underwater but never in an airplane.
At passport control, after a 30 minute wait in the queue, I received a grilling from the immigration officer, in order to make sure that I was entering the country for legitimate reasons. It wasn't quite up to Israeli standards, but it was certainly pretty vigorous, much as customs had been in New Zealand. I then collected my bags and proceeded to walk across the Atlantic (or at least it felt like that kind of distance) to find the Heathrow tube station. It was well marked, just very far away from the international arrivals area. The tube ride into London took a while, because Heathrow is so far out of town, but it was refreshing to be in a familiar place (as I had been to London before). I switched from the Picadilly line to the Northern line at the Leceister Square station and then rode the tube to another four stops to the Goodge Street station. From there I got back up to street level and went to a cafe, to wait.
I was soon greeted by Michael, a friend from UM who had been taking some summer courses here in London, as well as interning with an English law firm. Since I was only in London for a day, on a kind of extended layover, I was very happy to be able to see him and to have a free bed to sleep on that night. Today was my only day in London and it was also his last, as he would be heading home tomorrow after six weeks here. After meeting some of Michael's friends and other UM people here, and letting him find a place in his room for me to put my stuff, we set out on a day of exploration. It was nice to have a day to relax, without having to worry about the research.
I had been to London before, so I had a pretty good feel for it, but it was still very exciting to see it again, and especially through the eyes of someone who had been living here for weeks. After leaving his place we took the tube over to St. Pauls Cathedral, which is a personal favorite of mine as far as churches are concerned. I love the intricacy and opulence of religious buildings, and St. Pauls holds a special place in my heart, since I first visited it with my family on my other trip to London. Mike had not yet been, so I enjoyed watching his expression as we entered and he first saw the massive interior hall. We spent some time wandering the main floor, then took to the crypt to see the tombs of Lord Nelson and the Duke of Wellington. We then climbed all 365 steps to the top of the cathedral, stopping in the whispering gallery along the way. The view of London from up there was magnificent, and the squatness of the city became pretty evident.
After St. Pauls we headed down Fleet Street, fortunate not to run into any demon barbers, and went into the office where Mike had been working this summer. He took some time to say some goodbyes to his coworkers and then we were off again. I had a quick half of a sandwich at Pret a Manger, for old times sake (The family had eaten there a lot during our first trip to London) and then Mike and I went and had a proper lunch at a Tex-Mex restaurant. It was being run by a real Latino family and we got some delicious burritos. I was very impressed, because in my travels I have found that other countries do a very bad job of understanding that Mexican food should be cheap and easy. After my epicurean experience we walked across the nearby Millennium Bridge (no dementors in sight) to the Tate Modern, Britain's premier museum for modern and postmodern artwork. It has a vast collection, stretching from Monet, Dali, and Picasso to Pollack, Warhol, and several more contemporary artists. I actually enjoyed the museum, which I had been suspicious of given my track record with modern art. We also got to witness some ballet and interpretive dance in the main atrium. Molly, another Cane and a friend of Mike's who was studying abroad in London this summer, then joined us.
From the Tate Modern we walked to the tube, stopping momentarily to get me some coffee before I fell asleep standing up. We took the tube over to Knightsbridge, to go to Harrod's, since Mike still needed a gift for his mother and I enjoyed the place anyway. We wandered through the many floors, gaping at some of the opulence (a solid gold set of Monopoly comes quickly to mind). I got a few trinkets for my family and Mike got his mother a present. After Harrod's Molly left to go back to her place, and Mike and I strolled around the neighborhood, since this had been where I had stayed on my first visit to London and was thus quite nostalgic. We took the tube back to Mike's place, where I rested and he packed for a little while. Eventually we went out to dinner with Steph, a friend of his, to a fun, funky outdoor market, where I got some crappy Chinese food (which is, by the way, the best kind of Chinese food). Following this we went back to Mike's room, where he continued packing. He took a short break as the sun was setting, around 10 pm, to walk to the pub with me for a celebratory pint. I also had some Irn-Bru (one of 3 drinks in the world to outsell Coca-Cola) to keep with the pledge I made in Australia to try all three drinks this summer. Only Inca Cola stands in my way now. After that we went back to Mike's place where I crashed.
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