oh my days!

Despite the perfect snoozing weather of late, I felt obliged to get off my backside and do some touristy things and ‘enculture’ myself. So I visited the two museums, a theatre, an art gallery, two cathedrals, and some random cricket field named ‘Lords’ which I talked about earlier. I feel these escapades are best explained through pictures (or for the highbrow of you, a ‘visual narrative’) with a few anecdotes here and there to complement the visual aids. Enjoy.

Firstly I made my way to the Dickens Museum. Which. Was. Amazing.

However the British Museum on the other hand, I found as boring as bat shit. It was full of ancient mesapetonian relics and crap. Each medallion, ancient coin or ceramic bowl I saw atrophied my mind a little more and brought me to the brink of my existence.

The Great Court of a different kind, where Karl Marx wrote Das Kapital

Only freaks of nature like Sarah could appreciate such needless hocus-pocus relics

This clay pot is probably the sacred object of worship of an ancient Mesopotamian civilisation..

On Wednesday I ventured out in the harsh London winds to see the famed London Bridge (which may or may not be falling down). Though I have always prided myself on a good sense of direction and common sense, I simply couldn’t locate the bridge, but instead ended up at a gothic cathedral at Southwark which was quite splendid.

No, I didn’t pay $2 for a photography permit, SO SEND ME TO HELL!

Then I excitedly made my way to the Globe Theatre, which was a bit of a let down – possibly because I chose not to pay the ridiculous $12 entry to the museum and thus was left with the invigorating attraction of the gift shop. At the moment it is Henry VI season at the Globe, which would be worthwhile seeing while I’m here. But although I can appreciate a good history performance, I’m more of a tragedy or comedy kind of gal when it comes to Shakespeare, and was disappointed when the elderly information lady scorned at me when I asked when Macbeth was on. Some people!

Then the TATE Modern Art Gallery – now we’re talking real art! There is nothing that stimulates me more than things of voyeurism, poetry and dream, states of flux, impressionism and chance, energy and process, and material gestures in art. None of that wishy washy ancient artefact shite of the National Museum, this is culture at its finest.

Heading over the Millennium Bridge I found St Paul’s Cathedral, another feat of the great Sir Christopher Wren. I browsed the crypts and the ground floor before effortlessly climbing the 200 steps to the whispering gallery then 120 more steps to the birds eye view over London.

And how can I forget my day at Lords! I spent the rest of my weeks money on a ticket allocated to a ‘Damien White’ to see four hours of cricket in quite volatile weather conditions – but it was completely worth it.

Mum you will be pleased to know that although I did forget my iron tablets, Guinness is actually full of iron and good for strength. I learnt this on my first trip to “The Office”, the heart of Sudbury’s CBD where most of the business is done. At this quaint little establishment, the Guinness flows freely, Halloway girl is played frequently, and the Irish dance madly. It’s a great craic. And come 12 o clock, after last drinks had ‘officially’ been called, ashtrays are promptly distributed to all tables and the pub became a haze of cigarette smoke.

Well I’m off to enlighten myself with the five o clock news and then later hit up the Camden scene. A good mix of activities if you ask me.

And as Confucius says,

“What you lose on the swings you make up on the roundabouts.”