The Events of Tuesday, June 7, 2011

                We began today by riding the Tube to Covent Garden, then walking to the London Transport Museum. There, we received an excellent discount with our English Heritage pass – we only paid for one entry! Also, we kids picked up a stamp-collecting sheet and gladly left our backpacks at the free coat check. From there, a ramp led us through subway maps from major metropolises all over the world; we recognized those of New York and Paris. Next, an elevator transported us back to 1800 – it actually displayed the year going back in time! The doors then opened into the nineteenth-century London of sedan chairs and horse-drawn vehicles. As the museum progressed, it evolved through the centuries, and we followed, fascinated by the world of mass public transportation. Among the highlights were learning about how the Tube developed, interactive stuff to play with, and buses and train cars to climb into and explore. Our tour of the London Transport Museum ended in the year 2055, where we contemplated what traveling in London will look like in the future.

                Back in Covent Garden, we walked to Victoria Embankment, a lovely park-ish place along the river. There, we found an empty bench and a perfect patch of grass upon which to eat our picnic lunch. We people-watched the many young office workers enjoying their lunch break, also sprawled out on the grass or benches. We felt quite underdressed, because everyone else was dressed so smartly. Our desserts were dark chocolate ginger biscuits – I do not recommend these at all. In fact, take extreme precautions before even trying this un-delicious non-delicacy!

                After lunch, we continued walking along the River Thames towards Westminster. Once there, we waited in line to visit Westminster Abbey, “the greatest church in the English-speaking world”. Admission was extremely expensive, and it provided a lame audio guide. The building itself was not very church-like, but still altogether an impressive building. For our family, the unanimous highlight was the fan-vaulted ceiling high above the Lady Chapel. However, Westminster Abbey was definitely and noticeably a monument to man and his achievements, rather than to God as churches and other religious buildings are supposed to be. Instead of stained glass and wood carvings of biblical stories, saints, and the like, all the décor was secular, focusing on humanity. It especially focused on the monarchy and the royal family, displaying masses of coats of arms, swords, and lions – Lindsey and Abby counted 196 just in the interior.

                Exiting via the Abbey Shop, we crossed the street to the Houses of Parliament, where we saw a long “queue” of people dressed in business suits. At the entrance to the line, the workers informed us that it would be a very long wait. They courteously suggested that we go away, have a cup of tea or something, and then come back later. Mom announced that we would attend the evensong at the Abbey and then come back afterwards. The employee addressing us exclaimed, “That’s an excellent idea!”

                So we did just that, waiting outside black iron gates with a group of 45 traveling musicians from Alabama, exchanging travel tales and news of the world we left at home. Eventually, entering the church, we were grateful to be seated in the “quire”, where the best views of the Westminster Boys’ Choir can be had. However, they couldn’t seat all six of us in a row. Lindsey and I sat separate from the rest, on the opposite side of the choir. Soon after being seated, the choir boys filed in and we enjoyed 35 minutes of worship and purely angelic melody. Beautiful little boys singing beautiful songs to a beautiful God in a beautiful church left me thinking, “This must be how the angels in heaven worship!”

                Afterwards, we again crossed the street to the Houses of Parliament, rejoicing to see absolutely no line in sight. However, the ladies attending the entrance informed us that it would still be at least an hour’s wait and encouraged us to leave once more and come back later. We pressed on, however, determined to take our chances, and walked down the ramp to security. Oh boy. The first step in this process was a machine that took and printed each of our pictures. The first security guard we encountered took these photographs of us and clipped them each onto their own lanyard, which he instructed us to hang around our necks. Next, our backpacks and Mom’s belly pack went through an X-ray machine, while we walked through a metal detector. When my backpack went through, they asked me to show them my key ring. What key ring? I don’t know of any key ring in my backpack! The gentleman then probed, “Any compact? Compact…mirrors?” Oh, yes, I have a little mirror. I pulled it out and showed it to him, and he let me proceed. When Mom’s turn came, they took away the miniature padlock and key she carries to lock up her belly pack against pickpockets, saying that it was against regulations, but she could return and pick it up later. Even though it was less than an inch long, the security guards would not allow such a menace into the Houses of Parliament. It’s a TSA miniature security lock that couldn’t hurt a fly, but it was not permissible.

                Once we had all passed through that unexpected challenge, we proceeded inside a grand and glorious building, the first of many we passed through in our time at the Houses of Parliament. In this first great hall were a great many metal plaques on the floor, each commemorating where some famous British citizen or monarch gave a speech or lay in state in a casket. I stood on each spot, trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I was actually standing where these famous things had taken place. One such commemorative inscription read, "Winston Churchill lay in state here from the Twenty seventh of January until his burial at Bladon on the Thirtieth of January Nineteen hundred and Sixty five".

                Then we strolled to the entrance to the House of Lords, sitting down to fill out a slip of paper and receiving a booklet about how things worked in this house, before walking right in without having to wait in any line. We observed a few minutes of businesspeople speaking legalese and then moved on to the House of Commons. Here again breezing through the nonexistent lines and supposed hour-long wait in no time. There are several distinct differences between the two Houses. For one, the House of Lords is more formal, stately, peaceful and democratic, while the House of Commons tends to bicker, shout, interrupt, and fight. The House of Lords has red leather cushions on their seats and benches, while the House of Commons has green. This reminds some Brits of stoplight colors; red means ‘stop’, and green means ‘go’. Bills-to-be go through the House of Commons and stop in the House of Lords. We spent a few minutes in each House, but the conversations taking place quickly grew uninteresting to all of us, so we decided it was time to leave.

                Once outside, we snapped a few pictures of Big Ben while Mom went to retrieve her potentially dangerous item from security. We met up again at the exit gate, where Mom told her fascinating tale. Because of this miniscule item’s would-be menace to society, the security guard had to escort Mom to the gateway, carrying the mini padlock all the way before returning it to her at the exit.

                On the way, he explained to her that people had been chaining themselves to the statues inside the Houses of Parliament as protests, so the government outlaws padlocks, chains, and anything else that might allow visitors to do that. The security guard also told Mom that he totally understood why she was being so careful, locking up her bag. He and his wife planned to visit Tennessee and were going to have to take extreme precautions while touring Elvis’s Graceland and Dollywood. This was a laughable surprise to us Taylors, who had not considered Tennessee being on the European’s travel agenda in the United States. We also could not believe that they were paranoid about pickpockets and thieves in the wonderful backcountry state of Tennessee.

                Next, we took the Tube home. It was rush hour, however, which translates to triple sardines on the London Underground. Dad could not even get onto the train the rest of us entered, so he hopped onto the next one instead, and we all met up at the Bermondsey Tube station. Walking home, we enjoyed pizza, peas and pie for dinner. Perfect!