Category: London

An Argument for Awe

St. Dunstan's Garden
St Dunstan-in-the-East. A public garden greets pedestrians where once a church designed by Christopher Wren stood. The tower is all of Wren’s work that remains intact at this site.

Nothing is awesome in London. Use that term and you will literally hear people’s eyes roll. Objects, ideas, situations, people, events and a broad assortment of other spontaneous delights or bits of quickly recognised genius are frequently proclaimed, brilliant or massive.

“That is a massive opportunity.” Or simply, “It’s massive.”

“That is a brilliant scarf, darling.” And, “She is absolutely brilliant.”

But I will argue that London itself is awesome. In pieces and on the whole, this city never ceases to amaze. Gazing down at the river, out across the rooftops and toward a countryside you can envision but can’t see, you could be held in place for hours. Back at street-level, ambling across the pavement, it would be a disservice if your head was not on a swivel because there is always something worth noticing even if you’re unsure of the precise import.

So many scars from World War II, often in the form of church towers with no accompanying church. Plenty to give pause and inspire thoughts of what it must have been like to have hell rained down on you, your home and community. Uncertainty amidst the beauty and ruin. But always a sense of enduring importance–an undisturbed timelessness.

Londoners probably don’t consciously think about the wonders of their surroundings as frequently as a visitor, but it still must happen on a pretty regular basis. Yes, even amidst the detritus and decay of a bustling urban centre where people and pigeons commingle, you should occasionally be a tourist. Look up at the more modern buildings (if you can escape the Shard’s watchful peak, you are sneakier than I am). Look down the river at the Tower Bridge. Stop and read the plaques.

If you are not frequently struck with wonder in this city, you have no sense of it.

London, Week 3

FullSizeRender 13I’ve been in London approximately 3 weeks–more than a fortnight–and there’s a lot to love. I took advantage of the great weather yesterday for a ramble around Covent Garden and Soho. Setting off from Southwark, crossing over Millennium Bridge (can you ever get tired of the St. Paul’s view as you walk across the Thames?) and then up to and west on Fleet St, and down to the Strand. Can’t quite tell you the route I took from there, mostly just guided by what looked interesting, with occasional diversions across the street to take advantage of the sun.

Late afternoon lunch at the Soho location of Burger & Lobster made what was already an interesting day, brag-worthy. Conceptually, I love the juxtaposition of lobster (the very ideal of haute for most Americans), with the humble burger. And in execution, it was brilliant.

If you’re not familiar with the the menu, you get your choice of a burger, grilled lobster or a lobster roll for £20–complete with frites and salad. I’ve been mostly “meh’ed” by burgers during my time and visits here, and wasn’t particularly enamoured with the idea of letting the glorious day down. So I ordered the lobster roll…and almost immediately regretted it upon seeing the plates of grilled lobster delivered to the adjacent table of giggling 20-something tourists. [For the record, I know I’m not a proper Londoner, but I do feel as though I hold the moral high ground over run-of-the-mill tourists. After all, I have a Biometric Residence Permit. And actually know how to pronounce Southwark.] But it proved an excellent choice. Salad, chips, and the lobster roll itself with a crazy good butter sauce that I want to put on everything I eat from now until I am feeble and have to be spoon-fed–at which point you can just give me a straw and a jug full of the sauce. Amiable and attentive staff and a loud, happy atmosphere.

Quite a few of the shops in and around Covent Garden (both near the market and surrounding streets) can be found in any suburban American mall or trendy strip centre, but it feels different. I’m guessing it’s the ready supply of unique and/or quirky independent stores and boutiques which add plenty of local flavour. And while not typically a fan of crowds, I had no problem politely enduring the bumps and jostles navigating the packed streets, squares and pavements.

Before starting my exploration in earnest, I had stopped by the Globe in the morning and managed to pick up a yard ticket for the evening’s opening performance of Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream. Quite possibly the best use of £5. While my feet and back may have argued differently after the 3 hours of standing, the mind and spirit can make a more compelling case.

A very fun place to experience a play, and a very fun play to experience the place.

You don’t just watch in the Globe’s yard. You are in the middle of the performance–occasionally a part of the performance.

I highly encourage you to give this play a try in its current run, even if you intermittently struggle, as I did, with the formality of the 400 year-old dialogue. No matter that most of us were raised on TV sitcom reruns and predictable, Hollywood plot lines, the essential narrative is accessible. Quite interesting, gender-bending, Indian-fusion version of the play, different from my dim recollection of several other takes in the murky past. Likely enjoyable for true Shakespeare fans, but also thoroughly engaging for novices, with nice injections of relatable, contemporary popular culture. The play, directed by Emma Rice, is a clear window into the past that also sheds light on the timeliness and relevance of Shakespeare’s art, even today. How nicely, the basic theme of the work can be adapted to a more modern time and still lighten hearts.

Methinks the artful malleability of Shakespeare’s work, in form and spirit as touching an inheritance as when originally delivered, could a lesson give to the strict Constitutionalists in my homeland across the Atlantic.