Day 7 – Shakespeare and Tradition.

We had left Lorna and Ben at the Holborn Tube station with rushed goodbyes and shouts of catching up together for a theatre show the following night (today). I half-remembered this upon waking, one because Lorna and Ben were cool, and my first real english friends (i'm discounting Shen at GW, he could only talk shop), and two because I have a bit of a sneaking desire to see a real-life West End show.

D and J finally rise from their slumber, like beasts awoken after aeons of hibernation. But not as many tentacles. We have a massive cook-up of various foods for breakfast, and decide to continue their long-standing tradition of trying to visit the Tower Of London. I do some e-snooping and discover that the Tower is still standing (a good thing), and is open for tourists. I'm a real detective like that.

The Tower has been standing for a hell of a long time, having served as a palace, an armoury, a place of torture and now the resting place of the Crown Jewels. Legend has it that if the ravens-in-residence are ever to fly from the Tower then the monarchy, the empire, the tower itself, will fall and be nothing but ruin. To avoid this, their must always be six ravens present. The Brits have dealt with this admirably – they currently have nine, and have clipped the wings of them all. (Incidentally, the oldest raven lived until 44 and was named Jim Crow. These birds live well)

As far as a resting place for the Crown Jewels goes, this is something the Brits have also developed to a fine art. This has been due to necessity, as they have proved to be a bit too tempting in the past. The best example of theft I could find (quite possibly the first), was by a man named Colonel Thomas Blood (yes, a military man!). At the time of Col. Blood's attempt, the routine was thus: a visitor paid a “viewer's fee”, and the Custodian unveiled the crown jewels for viewing. This is not a euphimism. Anyhow, Blood was a genius – he bound and gagged the Custodian and took them. Not exactly rocket science, but definitely a wake-up call.

As it turns out, J and D have a tradition too. In his two years, and her one in London, they have attempted to visit the Tower three times. On all occassions they were foiled by timing, delays or other (I never found the 'other' out, and think it's probably best not to ask). Anyway, today marks attempt #4. We arrived with time before closing, but only 15min before final admittance, which would give a maximum of 45mins. This wasn't enough time to do it justice, so we decided we'd try next week. We then decided there were numerous other objects of interest in the near vicinity, so we did them.

The monument to the Great Fire of London is a monolithic statue of great importance. Important enough to get it's own Tube station. (that's important.) It stands at such a point that if it were to fall directly north, it's gleaming tip would land precisely at the location of the King's Bakery – the starting point of said fire. It's also closed for repairs.

We hitch a ride on a Thames Ferry, and tootle on down to an object of much curiosity to myself, at least. Amongst the various buildings on the south bank, is the only building in London allowed to have a thatched roof (these rooves have been outlawed due to the above Fire), it is none other than Shakespeare's Globe theatre, a great white circular building most recently famous for it's real-life cameo in 'Doctor Who'. (p.s. the current build has more than 14 sides, just so you know...)

The Globe is not the original. No, the original turned to ash when a stage cannon fired a little too pyrotechnically and burnt the place down. The second one suffered a similar fate when the puritans decided that theatre was a 'den of sin'. Considering how prostitution was not only condoned but encouraged in certain parts of the theatre, this isn't too radical an idea. The third was built on a new location, close to the original, using traditional methods yet created slightly out-of-scale. Still in use, it's an open-aired theatre with seating, standing room (no mosh pits), and no stage cannons. A beautiful construction, we took our time trolling through the museum having a look at the stagecraft originally employed, the costumes used, and a great deal of props and scenes currently in use.

We left Shakespeare at closing time, along with a sighting of the strangest sundial I've ever seen (no really, it was on the side of a building and made very little sense). Down the way was a pub that we decided was worth a shot, and soon made our way home. D knew the area well due to working nearby, so this was a quick-n-easy activity. Getting home, I collapsed into bed not feeling myself, and also aware of the next morning's requirements.

I don't normally get up at 3:30...

New Thing Learnt Today: “The Walrus And Carpenter” is an eatery that doesn't serve Oysters. Shameful.