Day 4 – Time Travel and Egyptian Gods

The british have long been known for their fascination with Time Lords who travel in Police property, but did you know this is because they themselves ARE Time Lords?! TRUE! I learnt this fact after a day of wandering, but I'll start at the start.

The turning of the millennium brought about a strang affliction that left various government bodies foaming at the mouth, and deliriously planning celebrations. London was no exception, but rather one of the more ambitious, as an entire arena-sized structure was built for the occasion – a large, swollen white bubble called “The Millennium Dome”. Filled with millennium-inspired attractions, it was a highly expensive (if not well-publicised) affair, and genearlly thought of as “a complete waste of time” This is according to Sophie at the O2 store. After the year had passed, the Dome was emptied and lay dormant until 2007, when it was bought out by O2, the english equivalent to Telstra. They re-named the expo-oriented pustule, and began redeveloping it. and what a job they did. The initial Dome incarnation was criticised for it's lack of content in the displays, and a generally expensive/poor program. The O2 Dome now features an arena for concerts (including the upcoming Neil Diamond tour! Wow!), a circuit promenade of eateries and stores, and space for exhibitions such as the current Tutankhamen expo.

This last bit calmed my nerves, as upon arrival to the Dome I had seen Anubis, God Of The Dead standing out the front, just hanging out with some Japanese tourists. I feared for my soul, just a little. Turns out he's cool; he just posed for photos and went about his day.

After wandering the Dome, chatting with the O2 shop staff (they asked what i did, we ended up comparing their crappy Yell.com to our far superior yellow.com.au) I headed out to see what I could see of that near-fictitious town of Greenwich, where they make the time. Greenwich was not what I expected: no expansive mines where the mercurial ore of time is drilled out, no distillation plants to remove the impurities that would no doubt make the time slower or too fast. Instead, it's more of a maritime town, with a large University, the Royal Navel College, the Cutty Sark (currently burnt down – give it a miss) and the Royal Observatory. Being as in-tune as I am, I had no idea how to get to the time-oriented sections, and so walked in a massive circle throughout Greenwich, following various signs. This was fairly unproductive, but I did get to see the town, and I found it was time to test “Nick's Theory of Finding Places”.

“Nick's Theory of Finding Places”
I've found recently that I've developed a habit of walking around looking for somewhere, following all the cues, and ending up back where I started. Here is where the theory kicks in. “Once you have successfully completed a circle of reconnaisance, walk directly through the centre of it, as this is where your destination lies.” Worked like a charm, too.

I found the Tourist Info office, and after twiddling my thumbs waiting for the Info Woman to get off the phone, twigged that the Royal Observatory (building for looking at the sky) was inetricably linked to the production of time. With this realisation, I grabbed the pamphlet that sparked the brainwave, and marched out to climb the hill. Forethought would have told me that the Observatory would be on a hill, so it really shouldn't have surprised me, but it did. The climb was worth it, as the Observatory was full of cool stuff. The original Royal Observer (sounds like a flash name for an authorised pervert), okay “Astronomer Royale” was a guy named John Flamsteed, who invented time. His initial work was on solving the “longitude puzzle”, namely, whilst a ship could calculate it's latitude from the equator, there was no constant that could be used for longitude. After crashing various ships, the world gathered together, and decided on a constant. Flamsteed now getting on in his years, liked his comfort, and so suggested they draw a line through his observatory, as a universal measure of 0 degrees longitude. I can only assume no one had a better suggestion, and so it stuck.

In the mean-time, Flamsteed was getting sicker. This was due to his over-exposure to raw time, and finally his body failed. Being a Time Lord, he regenerated into Edmond Halley. This change brought about a whole new personality, which Mrs Flamsteed couldn't reconcile, and so by continuing life as if Flamsteed was dead, she moved out of the observatory – and took all his belongings with her. Halley continued working as Astronomer Royale, producing copious materials on the sky and stars. Unfortunately, a great deal of this is useless due to his idiosyncratic laxity regarding the recording of time. He soon grew tired of this position, and used his Tardis to travel the galaxy.

After this discovery, I made my way to Chiswick, home of J's work. We chatted with his boss, Anton The Mad for a while, and then met with D for dinner. Quite tasty. Fish, one of the other housemates encouraged us to come out and see a friend-of-a-friend play live music. As dubious as this connection is, the night was a blast! Daisy B played her heart out – fantastic music, fantastic voice, and we all marched off to the Tube before going our seperate ways.

I could grow to love London. Could stay here.

New Thing Learnt Today – My accent, as vague as it is, has now been classified as “New Zealand”. By another Australian.