Churches

London January 2025 #6

Fiascos, Health, London, Mobility, Personal, Travel, UK

It was Westminster Abbey day!

Hooo … am I tired! Tomorrow I’m off to the airport hotel, which sounds dreary, but it will be very nice. It’s supposed to be a quite decent hotel, and it’s attached directly to the airport. This way, I’m already there for my flight the next day, no rushing, no public transportation issues, another spa day.

A foggy, wet day; but no actual rain. Just a light wetting-you mist. Well, ya know. Fog.

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“A foggy day in London Town
Had me low and had me down
I viewed the morning with alarm
The British Museum had lost its charm.”

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A bit of a rant today concerning the visit. It’s an entertaining and surprising rant, but if you’d like to skip it, just scroll down to the photos.

Lots of walking and standing today, and I’d have to say unfortunately, Westminster Abbey does disabilities very poorly. I went 15 minutes before opening, and after I’d walked around the large yard to get to the main entrance line. The employee out front sort of talked in circles when I asked whether there was a disabled entrance. I was tired of asking about it (and I was already there), so I waited in the line with the normals. They opened at 9:30 on the mark, but all the folks that worked there already seemed very much “on guard.”

When I didn’t want a free tour headset, the person-wearing-a-robe kept going on and on about it. After two or three go-rounds, her last sentence to me was, “But why don’t you have an audio guide?” Um, hello? I guess they don’t like people to refuse headsets. Maybe we try to talk to them too much otherwise. That impression was further confirmed as the day progressed.

Of all of the places I’ve visited in the past week, The Abbey staff has been the least friendly/helpful by far. And I’m not even very needy or demanding. The Docklands Museum and Southwark Cathedral absolutely both destroy Westminster Abbey in this respect. (I should mention, I had a very nice conversation about Jenny Lind with the lovely young headset-collector woman in Poets’ Corner.)

Later, after saying the same thing three or four times to different docents before they “got” what I was talking about, I realized they’re programmed to parrot this and that, and prefer not to be bothered; that I couldn’t possibly have anything useful or interesting to mention. In one instance, I mentioned a fact about some burials in the Stuart aisle of the Lady Chapel. She disagreed. I told her she should really read her very own Dean Stanley’s book … he documented all the royal burials in the mid-1800s.

At one point, I really needed to sit down (or fall down) for a while. I explained to a verger/docent/person. She told me I had to walk all the way around to get the 24 inches forward to where she was standing next to the chairs, rather than just picking up the rope hook for literally two or three seconds.

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I mean, c’mon.

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I was briefly in the vicinity of one absolutely hysterical docent — every time you took a step towards him, he either exaggeratedly turned his head the other way or walked to another corner. (For real. I tried it a few times to make sure. LOL)

This kind of crap filters down through the layers, and of course, as they’ll often remind you, this is first and foremost, a place of worship. As a career churchy myself, to say I was less-than-impressed is a gross understatement. And I’m looking at you, Dean Hoyle.

That’s plenty of complaining for today! Let’s look at some awesome pictures! I took dozens and dozens, so we’ll just do the highlights here.

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Henry VII’s stunning Lady Chapel

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I guess I can now say that I was once in the quire at Westminster Abbey

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Chaucer’s tomb. Interestingly, he was not interred here as a great poet, but due to his job as an upper-level government functionary.

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QEI — The lady, the myth, the legend. (She’s not in the box. She’s stacked in the crypt underneath below the floor, with her sister Queen Mary. Elizabeth is on top. Poetic justice.

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Edward the Confessor

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An aisle in the Cloister

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Remarkably preserved medieval paintings!

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I’m a bit of a scholar on the subject, I’ve done my own research, I’ve read Dean Stanley’s book(s) at least two or three times, and I’ve been to the Abbey in person several times, this being my last.

Yes, sure, I felt a little unwelcome. Big deal. However, combined with feeling physically uncomfortable without any way of helping myself, I don’t need to return. There was an Evensong later in the day I’d considered, but I hopped on the boat for an afternoon cruise instead.

One of the crew came over to me (a few of them know me by now) to mention that a more comfortable window seat had just opened up on the starboard side, and I realized that I felt very much more welcome on the Uber Boat than inside Westminster Abbey.

Eh. Can’t win ’em all.

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Hey! There’s my dude!

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London January 2025 #2

London, Mobility, Travel

I’m feeling much better, so I decided that I’d take the short walk down to spend some time at the Cathedral and environs.

Being less than a five minute walk from “home” seemed attractive with the temp around 32°F. I wore corduroy pants, a long sleeve thermal shirt, two giant scarves, a jacket, my heated shoes, and once I got outside, I went back up into the hotel to get my headband! Icy too — there was a little bit of slipping and sliding on those cobblestones.

There’s a ton of history in this five minute walk, so I fear this is going to read like a textbook. Fortunately/unfortunately I know a lot about the history of this area. My ancestors owned land here and had an interest in Shakespeare’s Globe. So, if this post reads like a textbook, I hope it’s an interesting one.

Out the front door, and through the Clink Street Tunnel! It’s called Clink Street because the local lock-up was here. There’s a corny/gory “museum” on the site now. I’ve been there before, but I couldn’t bring myself to go another time. And this is where we get the slang term “the clink.” This was the local jail belonging to the Bishop of Winchester. More on him later.

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The “museum” is underground, right in the center at the end of the tunnel. Those four lights on the sign are right above the entrance.

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Just past The Clink, you’ll find remains of the Bishop’s Palace. All we’re really seeing here are the remains of the Great Hall, where said Bishop would have his big bishopy feasts and such. “Look how rich and Bishopy I am!” The rest of the remains were yanked down. Thanks, Victorians.

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The Great Hall, Winchester Palace

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At this point in history, the Bishop was the ruler of this area, which was called The Liberty of the Clink. A “liberty” was an area outside the jurisdiction of the City of London, and therefore, it did not have to abide by the same laws.

The theaters (considered dicey in the Elizabethan era), the animal-baiting arenas, and the brothels were located here. The bishops were totally in on it. They licensed the brothels and were often landlord of their premesis. (I’m not kidding.)

The Clink existed to lock up unruly customers or disagreeable licensees. The Queen & Council’s attitude was, “We’re going to have brothels anyway. Might as well keep them all in one place over there on the other side of the river; along with Shakespeare, Burbage, and the rest of those reprobates.” (BTW — Queen Elizabeth I actually loved theatre!) More about all this on Globe day.

You’ll pass the replica of Sir Francis Drake’s The Golden Hinde on your left. Choose your own admission price and go on board to look around, but it’s shockingly small. Not much to see. How they fit a crew plus that stolen Spanish treasure on this thing, I have no idea. I believe the replica has sailed around the world and stuff, just like the original. It was a lot easier to take a photo of it before that thing was being built behind it.

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The Golden Hinde and the Blue Bloke.

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Take a super quick right and a super quick left, and you’re on Winchester Walk, facing Southwark Cathedral, formerly the Church of St Mary Overie (overie meaning “over the river”). My ancestors’ parish, once upon a time.

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Winchester Walk

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Today ended up being one of those days in the life of a church when a thing is going on, and they had all the gates locked. The signs said there was a door open … somewhere. I walked around the entire thing up and down the hill and icy steps twice before I saw somebody on the other side of a window and finally figured it out. It was through the gift shop, which was odd, because I tried that door the first time around and it was locked at 10am (and the people on the other side of the door just stared at me).

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The cathedral from the churchyard

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And now, a bunch of cathedral photos. I’ll explain in each caption.

I’m going to the service at the cathedral tomorrow morning at 11, and we’ll see if I feel like doing much else afterwards, especially if I end up being there a while. Of course, I have absolutely no problem sneaking a video so you can hear the organ during a hymn or prelude. LOL

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Artsy sun-through-the-window photo.

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The altar, note the nativity.

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The Shakespeare Memorial. I’m assuming he’s pictured here lounging on the ground (weird) over by The Globe, pondering a new plot or something. Since you can see the cathedral over his shoulder.

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If you’re not familiar, there are dead people under the floor. Very common. You walk on them and the chairs and are sitting on top of them. (Cathedrals almost never-ever have pews. I’ve never seen one with pews, anyway.)

Their grave markers are the paving stones. Now. They are under their somewhere, probably near-ish the stone; in the crypt. Or they could’ve been moved a few feet this way or that to fit more people. (Also very common.) Shakespeare’s brother Edmund (also an actor) is under there. I’d seen his marker before — I think it’s in the choir. I didn’t go looking because all it says is “Edmund Shakespeare.” Will paid for it, of course. Parting thought — If you were allowed and you knew how to get down into the crypt, there are indeed a bunch of centuries-old dead people down there in disintegrating coffins.

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Or if you’re really important, you can have a big, fancy, canopied tomb. Sometimes they’re in the box, sometimes not. This is Bishop Lancelot Andrewes, who I like to call “Bishop of Everything.” Queen Elizabeth I must’ve loved him (or owed him several favors) — she just kept appointing and appointing him higher and higher.

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A photo sitting in the choir. There’s a whole lot of church behind me as well. Gives you an idea of the scale.

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I was going to play the pipe organ at London Bridge Station today (I was right there), but my hands were just way too cold even with gloves on, and it’s only sort of indoors. (Hard to explain.)

We’ll see what tomorrow brings!

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(That’s actually my window … right above the moon.)

Mischief Managed

London, New York, Travel

I can’t positively say whether I dislike all big city airports; but I can positively say that I absolutely loathe both JFK (New York City) and Heathrow (London).

We accrue a lot of JetBlue points, and that’s where they from and to, so it is what it is. As you’ve probably gathered, I’m planning my first post-recovery trip to London for January. I’ll still be recovering, but I’ll certainly be well enough to take a familiar trip — I know London backwards and forwards.

I signed-up for TSA PreCheck — No more absurd security lines. No more taking off your belt, shoes, and jacket. No more carry-on screening. Leave your iPad, laptop, and that quart-sized bag of liquids and gels in your tote. This solves a lot of my problems with JFK.

For Heathrow, I did my usual — adding a day at the end of the trip and checking into a hotel directly inside the airport the day before my flight home. No need to get up early, worry over time, stress, or get on a plane exhausted. Just walk out of the hotel door and I’m already there.

I’ll still have to get off the train from the airport at Liverpool Street Station, which is way down deep in the center of the earth near where the devil lives. 36 meters/120 feet, or about 12 stories underground. Platforms and hallways are incredibly long, and then you meet the most extreme escalator you’ve ever seen in your life.

Yes, that’s really the actual escalator I’m talking about.

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I like to be in a neighborhood, so I’m staying at a hotel in a buzzy pedestrianized area with an incredible location — Bankside, right on the River Thames, leaning against an ancient pub, across-ish from Shakespeare’s Globe.

The hotel entrance is at the end of the red-doors building, right across from Wagamama. On the left, that’s the terrace on the river. The Globe is right behind you.

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I’ll be doing my usual history thing. There are a few medieval churches on the list, the Docklands Museum, the effigies at Westminster Abbey, the renovation of the National Portrait Gallery, a few locations from Bleak House that I’d like to see in person.

I have a contact that could get me in to play a historic pipe organ, but I haven’t decided yet. I’ll likely play the little pipe organ in the train station for sure. The Globe is doing Cymbeline while I’m there. Sadly, not a play I really want to see. I might go see the revival of Oliver though.

Shakespeare’s Globe

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Welp, I’ll finally be able to spend that £2 coin I brought back last year.

Dickens & The Romantics

Musician, Theatre

That would be a good name for a band.

I’ve been writing to pass the time — I have a half+ draft of of a very Dickensian chamber musical written. If you’re familiar with Dickens and/or the Romantic Poets; it’s principally about the Micawbers, Nell Clenham, and Thomas Gray.

Its usual fate would be this: Printed out, bound, and put in a drawer unproduced. That’s 100% okay. I have a few of these unfinished on top of the upstairs piano. It would sting a little to banish this one though, because I think it’s quite good.

The last time I produced a musical I was swimming in actors and theater people. Since moving, I don’t have the theatrical friends I used to, we’re all spread out now. After a point, I don’t work very well alone. Eventually, you need to make demo recordings, bounce ideas around, and read out loud with another person.

I decided I’m going to be actively on the lookout, but I haven’t decided quite how. I’ll be looking for a baritone-tenor to work with, who could then take the role of Thomas as things progress.

I looked at the rates and specs for the Paramount theatre around the corner. It’s beautiful, but it’s way, way, way too big. I knew it would be. It’s a good thing — if it were 50% the size and didn’t have a balcony, I’d have been tempted to get out my checkbook.

The Peekskill Paramount

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There’s a super-cute small theater about a sixty-second walk from our house. (No kidding!) It’s a “nope” though. It’s marketed as a wedding/events/catering venue. Of course, its rates reflect that.

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I think I probably gasped when I was given the dollar signs for this beautiful, quirky little place. But, being what it is, it would cost several thousand dollars for just one afternoon/evening. Plus, no piano. (And I don’t need canapés at intermission.)

My peculiar little five-person musical play would be most at home in a small 19th century lecture hall or an old stone meeting house, even the large parlor of a grand home. So, that search continues.

But first things first. If you know a “Thomas” candidate, send him my way! We’ll do a video submission. He’d be late 20s/early 30s, handy to Westchester, theatre experience, baritone/tenor, perhaps a bit awkward. I imagine an Adrian Brody type.

Coffee & Tea

London

I’d planned on taking my coffee down to the garden this morning, but it was raining. Ah, well. I felt like I wanted a nap anyway. And the coffee was still delicious. =)

After the rain had cleared, I headed off to the Royal Exchange by way of St. Magnus the Martyr.

St. Magnus the Martyr, interior

Very handsome atmospheric church. They were piping in recorded monks chanting, which irritated me. In the large echoed space, I’ll admit I did wonder for a few seconds, and I followed the sound … to a circa 1974 speaker.

As is frequently the case in this neighborhood, the original church was founded in the 1100s, built of wood, and was later replaced with a stone version. The portico served as both the entrance to the church, and the entrance to the medieval London Bridge. The stone church was destroyed by what? Yes, of course. The Great Fire of London. It was rebuilt in stone to a design by Sir Christopher Wren, who must’ve been a very tired man in 1667.

St. Magnus in 1616, at the far end of London Bridge

In 1831, the new London Bridge was opened further upstream and the medieval bridge demolished. The medieval bridge was a sight to behold — It was covered with homes and businesses hanging off both sides. There is a model of what the medieval bridge looked like inside St. Magnus.

The Medieval London Bridge

I grabbed a cab up to Fortnum & Mason at the Royal Exchange for my lunch reservation. I hesitate to call it a posh classical-looking shopping mall, because there really aren’t that many stores, and it was entirely filled with tourists. Office workers came and went from upstairs.

The Royal Exchange

The original was opened by Queen Elizabeth I in 1571 … Great Fire, etc, etc, rebuilt, burned down again, new one opened by Queen Victoria in 1844.

My lunch was okay. Bit too much food for me, but it was decent. I believe my tiny sandwiches were coronation chicken, a fancy egg salad, salt beef with tarragon something, and cucumber with cream cheese. Pastry sweets arrived as well as scones with clotted cream & jam. I didn’t eat much of the sweets, but I had one scone and tasted the others.

It was neither the best nor the worst Afternoon Tea I’ve ever had. It was fine, the staff was fine. Honestly, I expected more out of Fortnum & Mason.

Obligatory Food Photo

I stopped at the neighborhood Sainsbury’s for some drinks and such, which was coincidentally the former site of Lloyd’s Coffee House — the 1600s forerunner of Lloyds of London as well as the original stock exchange.

On my walk, I encountered this sculpture — some sort of weird winged-lion-native-maiden-without-arms standing on a ball. I don’t know what it is, but I’m sure it’s some sort of obnoxious colonial thing.

She’s scary.

Lombard Street

And suddenly, it’s already after six and I’m sleepy. I haven’t decided what I’ll do tomorrow. Maybe a nice long boat ride on the Clippers, maybe the St. Martin’s in the Fields area.

Have a good sleep!

I think that’s a young Neptune with “dolphins.”