While my parents were here, I was able to spend a lot of time with them, in spite of working a full week at school. They arrived on July 10, and on the following afternoon (a Friday), we went to the Tower of London. Our Beefeater guide had a good sense of humor, and tried to make light of the fact that he is single. All of the Beefeaters have at least 20 years military service, and live within the Tower walls with their families. Our guide had served in a psychological warfare unit, so he seemed especially eager to mess with our heads. Inside the Tower complex, the Crown Jewels are housed, as well as the armory museum, which displays guns and cannon and the armor of some of the kings. Henry VIII's armor was so big, it must have taken a Clydesdale to carry him.

The next day, we went on a tour to Windsor Castle, Stonehenge, and Salisbury Cathedral. William the Conqueror built a defensive ring of castles around London in the 1100s, and Windsor Castle is the only surviving castle from this group. Queen Elizabeth II prefers to spend weekends at Windsor Castle, referring to it as her “home” and to Buckingham Palace as her “office.” You can tell if the Queen is in a royal residence by the colors of the flag. If the Union Jack is flying, she is not there; if the flag has any yellow in it, perhaps indicating a royal coat of arms, she is there. On the day we were there, being a Saturday, the queen was present at the castle. Once we got into the castle, my parents and I headed for the State Apartments, where the Queen usually hosts foreign heads of state and other dignitaries. We only made it through 2 rooms before the fire alarm went off; we had to evacuate that part of the castle, and were unable to return due to the time constraints of our tour. We were still able to tour St. George’s Chapel and see the Changing of the Windsor Guard.

After we left Windsor Castle, the tour proceeded to Stonehenge. Although a light rain began to fall while we were there, both my father and I were able to get plenty of photos. As the last stop of our tour, we went to Salisbury Cathedral. According to Wikipedia, the first stone was laid in 1220, and main portions of the cathedral were completed in 38 years, a remarkable feat for that period in history. The tower and spire, which at 404 feet is still the tallest in the U.K., were completed in 1320, adding a weight in excess of 6,000 tons to the building. Additional buttresses and inverted arches were installed over the next few centuries to prevent the tower from collapsing. Aside from the spire, the cathedral also contains the world’s oldest working clock, dating from 1365, and its chapter house displays one of the four surviving original copies of the Magna Carta.

On Sunday, we went to the National Gallery, off of Trafalgar Square, where the statue of Lord Nelson looks rather diminutive atop the 100-foot colonnade. The National Gallery houses works from many famous artists, from the early Renaissance to the 20th century. I think my favorite painting was “Belshazzar’s Feast” by Rembrandt, ca. 1635. This painting depicts the hand writing on the wall, and Belshazzar’s alarm. On Tuesday, we saw a production of Les Miserables, which was the first professional musical I had seen since I was a child. Having sung the music years ago in youth choir, I had some recollection of the major songs. Having once attempted, but failed, sometime around the sixth grade, to read an unabridged version of the classic novel, I knew very little about the plot save that Jean Valjean was an escaped con who took Cosette into his care and was constantly on the run from the egocentric Inspector Javert. Although, due to both time and budgetary constraints, this may be the only musical I attend while in London, I thoroughly enjoyed the performance.

While I was in Edinburgh, I took a break from the city last Saturday and went on a tour to Loch Ness. Within a couple of hours of leaving Edinburgh, the fan in the bus went out, so we had a full tour bus with no air flow (most buildings and cars here have no air conditioning to begin with) on about a 70 F day, which is warm for the Scottish Highlands. For me, it was worth the minor discomfort to get to visit the most famous lake in the world. As the tour was behind schedule, we only had time to take the one-hour cruise on the lake, but this afforded me a rare opportunity to capture some images of the lake's most famous resident and to take some beautiful pictures of the lake on a sunny day, which is almost as rare for that area as a sighting of the monster. On the way back, we passed through Glencoe, where 38 members of the MacDonald clan were massacred in 1692. All of the clans in Scotland were supposed to swear an oath of allegiance to King William, who had recently taken over from the deposed James II, the grandson of Mary, Queen of Scots. Due to some bad weather and some red tape, the representative of the MacDonald clan technically missed the deadline of Jan. 1, 1692 for this oath, although he attempted to give the oath before the deadline and it was evetually accepted by someone. English troops were sent in to live in Glencoe among the MacDonalds, then after about 12 days the troops carried out their orders to massacre the people living there. In the end, an inquiry by a Scottish council blamed the Secretary of State over Scotland, John Dalrymple, for the massacre, as well as the Campbell clan, with whom the MacDonalds had a long, bitter feud, which Dalrymple took advantage of in plotting the massacre. This remains one of the most tragic events in all of Scottish history.

On Sunday, I got to visit the Palace of Holyroodhouse, used by the Queen when she visits Edinburgh. The queen was in Edinburgh when I arrived, but had apparently left by Sunday morning, so the palace was again open to visitors. Mary Queen of Scots lived in the palace for a few years, so this palace saw its share of domestic violence, with Mary's private secretary David Rizzio murdered in the palace by her then-husband, Lord Darnley. Their marriage broke apart, and after James was born, Darnley was killed in an explosion at a house in Edinburgh, where he was recuperating from an illness.

Before I left Edinburgh on Sunday, I went to the National Galleries of Scotland. Since I was short on time, I focused on the most famous galleries, with notable artists from the Renaissance up to the 20th century. I knew the galleries must be good if a novice like me was able to recognize so many of the artists: Titian, Van Dyke, Raphael, Rembrandt, Peter Paul Rubens (NOT Pee Wee Herman for you wise guys), El Greco, Monet, Van Gogh, Paul Cezzane, Paul Gauguin, Edgar Degas (most noted as a sculpturist who made bronze molds), John Singer Sargent, and Thomas Gainsborough. You can tell that I was quite impressed with their collection, or at least the parts that I saw. Now I am looking forward to visiting the National Gallery here in London, whenever I get around to it.

A couple of other things I did in Edinburgh: the Scotch Whiskey Experience, and a Mercat tour under South Bridge. On the whiskey tour, I ran into a couple of undergrads from Georgia Tech, who are studying at Oxford as part of a large study-abroad group from GT, representing many different majors. The tour under South Bridge, which was classified as a ghost tour, took me through the vaults under South Bridge, which is actually invisible from the street, as it is covered by buildings. The bridge, featured last year in an episode of Cities of the Underworld on the History Channel, was built in the 1780s as a viaduct over a narrow valley between two hills. As the people of Edinburgh had been afraid of English invasion in centuries past, the city had been built upward within its walls, and buildings were likewise built around and on top of South Bridge, thus creating the enclosed spaces under 18 of its 19 arches. Many different tradesmen, such as cobblers, practiced their crafts in the vaults during the early days, but eventually the leaky bridge, which had not been waterproofed, forced the reputable trades to move elsewhere. Illegal businesses, such as body-snatching, moved in to the vaults. The ghosts that are said to inhabit the vaults range from the early period to the later criminal period. I didn't have any paranormal experiences, but I wouldn't say that the ghost stories are fictional accounts.

I have so many stories to tell from my 3-day weekend in Edinburgh. The trip got off to a slow start when I missed my 14:30 train out of King's Cross and had to upgrade my ticket to leave at 15:00. Although it was a painful lesson, at least in the wallet, I've learned not to cut it close with trains. They always leave on time, and you should really be there 15 min in advance to get a good seat, which brings up another point. This being my first time on National Express, I neglected to reserve a seat for both the outward and return journeys. Big mistake. While the train leaving on Thursday had plenty of unreserved seats, the train heading back on Sunday had precious few of these open seats. I must have walked up and down the aisle 3 or 4 times, suitcase in hand, while the train was moving, looking for somewhere to sit. Once I saw the £50 penalty for sitting in a reserved seat, I wasn't taking any chances, even if I thought the person who reserved the seat was not on board.

This trip was also the first time I spent the night at a hostel. Since I mistakenly left my earplugs in London, I didn't get a lot of sleep the first two nights. While I had made a provisional reservation for 3 nights, I got confirmation for the first two on the day I was leaving, with a note that the hostel was full for Saturday night. I ended up having to go out looking on Friday night, but the third place I went had some space, although it was £10 more per night than the first hostel I stayed at. Had I made plans for this trip sooner, I would have had fewer difficulties and would have paid less for my train ticket.

Aside from the aforementioned issues, I thouroughly enjoyed the weekend. On Friday, I visited Edinburgh Castle, which has been around in some form since at least the 1300s. The area seems to have received the name Edinburgh when the Angles settled it in 638 AD, after defeating a Celtic war band led by King Mynyddog. In one of the buildings on the castle rock, Mary, Queen of Scots gave birth to James (VI of Scotland, I of England) on June 19, 1566. After some marital problems, Mary fled to London, where she was imprisoned and eventually beheaded by her cousin, Elizabeth I, who feared that Mary might try to assert her legitimate claim to the English throne.

For me, perhaps the most interesting item in the castle was the One O'Clock Gun. The gun was first fired in 1861 to provide an audible time signal for ships in the nearby port of Leith, so captains could accurately set their chronometers before leaving on a voyage. Since ancient times, mariners had set their chronometers by the stars. Prior to the existence of the One O'Clock Gun, captains leaving Edinburgh had to climb up to the City Observatory to set their chronometers. As Scots are known for being shrewd with money, the time of 1 o'clock was chosen rather than noon, so only 1 ball had to be fired instead of 12. When the gun was first put into use, it was part of an elaborate system that also included a timeball, dropped at the top of the Nelson Monument. Both the gun and the timeball were electrically connected to the obeservatory, with about 3700 ft of wire connecting the observatory to Half-Moon Battery at the castle, where the gun is fired. Originally, just the timeball was used, but it couldn't be seen through the fog, so the addition of the gun alleviated this problem. The original One O'Clock Gun was a 18-pound cannon, but the gun has changed many times over the years and is now a 105 mm field gun. One of the guns recently retired was used in the battle of El Alamein in WWII. Locals expect to hear the gun, but it usually startles visitors. I got to witness the firing of the gun at 13:00 on Friday, and it was really loud from 100 feet away. After 4 weeks of use, the batteries in my camera died at 12:57, so I had to change them really fast to capture the firing of the gun.

Last Saturday, I went to Canterbury. The cathedral is breathtaking. It's difficult to put in writing how big it is, but the portion between the towers is called the nave, and that is only half the length of the cathedral. The choir sits in another section called the quire, and the sound carries through to the congregation seated in the nave. Since I got to hear the boy's choir practicing, let's just say that the acoustics in the cathedral are spectacular, as one would expect. Seeing the spot where Becket was murdered (pointed to by three swords) was, for me, a humbling experience. He got the position of archbishop as a political favor, but then began taking his duties seriously after a while. Henry II wished out loud that he could be rid of Becket, and the four knights took these words to the extreme. The other thing that was disturbing, although not surprising, is that Henry VIII destroyed the original shrine in the cathedral during his maniacal campaign to do away with the Catholic Church in England. The spot of the original shrine, which lasted for about 500 years, is now marked by a single, lit candle. The photos from Canterbury aren't labeled or commented, but I'll do that next week.

The next day, I went to the Cabinet War Rooms. This underground complex, near Parliament, is quite large, as it had accomodations for Churchill, his personal assistants, military officials, map rooms, and critical communications equipment. Churchill spent only 3 nights in the bunker, and often watched the bombing raids from the roof, much to the chagrin of those close to him. In one large room, there is a museums detaling Churchill's life and military career, in addition to his enormous influence over the people of the UK and his handling of the war. I'll upload the photos I took in the CWR sometime in the next week.

Here, again, is the link to my photo page:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/22316703@N05/

Tomorrow I'm off to another destination outside of London. Look for details and photos next week.

Most of the time, my weekdays at school are fairly uneventful, so I don't have much to say until I go somewhere on the weekend. I know some people would like to hear more, since not all of you have been to the UK before. So, here are a few things that I've learned about living in the UK:

With regard to traffic/pedestrians:

You don't have to wait for the "walk" sign to cross, but it's better to do so, at least at unfamiliar intersections.

When the "walk" sign goes off, it's time to get out of the intersection. The British also have a yellow light before the green light, which coincides with the "walk" sign turning off. Some drivers do get impatient if you're in the crosswalk, as they could otherwise start through the intersection. This extra yellow light would never work in the US, as many drivers and pedestrians are generally unaware of their surroundings. Many more people would be run down on Peachtree Street, just like Margaret Mitchell.

In tube stations, people actually do stand to the right on escalators, so those in a hurry can move past. People here are actually capable of following directions. Again, this would never happen in the US.

Other miscellaneous trivia:

Most washbasins (sinks) in Britain have seperate taps for hot and cold, and you can't really use the hot tap without getting burned. The showers in my dorm are almost uncomfortably hot, and there is no temperature adjustment. There are two shower stalls in the bathroom, with motion activated lights, and in one of them the motion sensor is improperly placed, so the light goes out after a couple of minutes. Also, the bathrooms in my dorm are unisex, which seems a bit unusual to me, but I've never lived in a UK dorm before now.

Many of the smaller shops close earlier than I'm used to, say 8 or 9 PM. The Sainsbury's is open late, until midnight on weekdays. They still have some kind of a blue law here, such that many stores don't open until 11 AM on Sundays and close at 5 PM. According to Wikipedia, the Sunday Trading act of 1994 was passed after the UK joined the European Economic Community, to avoid breaking the rules of the community. Since 1950, buying and selling on Sundays had been banned in the UK. With the change in 1994, stores larger than 280 m^2 are only allowed to be open for 6 hours on Sundays.

I have been attending a small (about 400 people, so that's small to me) contemporary church, called Christchurch London, which meets in the Picadilly Theatre from 4-6 PM on Sundays. Afterwards, a group of around 20-30 will go to a nearby pub for drinks. This is a reflection of the culture, as alcohol is viewed differently here than in the US. This would go over like a lead balloon at any church in the US.

Regarding the phone numbers here, people write them in all sorts of ways. I think a lot of people who live here are as confused as I am. They apparently changed the system several times in the '90s, adding extra digits to the area code to create more numbers. At least in the US we have a fixed length for numbers, with a clear area code and exchange. I guess since the telephone was invented in the US, we should have the best system.