Sat 3rd Sept: London

My god, the energy of this city! I could definitely get to like it.

After breakfast with Rick and Edvard I jumped on tyhe train, headed into town and had my first full day in London.

I started off at the British Museum (which was, delightfully, clearly signposted as soon as I stepped off the train at Tottenham Court Road station). I bowed before statues of Cupid and Sekhmet (lion-headed goddess of ancient Egypt) and held a paleolithic hand axe that was over 120,000 years old. I gazed in wonder at the Rosetta Stone, one of the most important archeological finds ever made; stared in awe at the Parthenon Marbles and the Sutton Hoo helmet; wilted in the lack of air conditioning; and was generally amazed by this storehouse of loot from across the faded British Empire. An amazing place: if you plan to visit, give yourself at least an entire afternoon.

Next I wandered the streets of Bloomsbury, and decided to be a flaneur for the rest of the afternoon and evening. I wandered into a random bookshop and discovered a queer literary mag called Chroma (and noted down their website so I can submit some of my stories to it). I walked in a random direction and found myself at Oxford Circus, where I admired architecture and was entertained by drunk chavs (which is what neds are called down here: see my initial Glasgow post for more about neds or go to www.chavscum.co.uk for additional albeit biased details) who were hanging topless out of a stretch limo's windows and shouting at passersby - don't ask me how a bunch of chavs managed to hire a limo though...

I jumped onto the Tube and emerged at Trafalgar Square, where Nelson's Column was surrounded by crowds enjoying a covers band playing at a disability access festival. I walked towards the Thames and saw Big Ben gilded by the sunset. I leaned against a lamp on Westminster Bridge and discovered a poem by William Wordsworth (1770 - 1850):

Composed Upon Westminster Bridge 3rd September 1802

EARTH has not anything to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth, like a garment, wear
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open unto the fields, and to the sky;
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill; 10
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!

I walked beneath and bowed to the statue of Boudicca, the Iceni queen who ensured that the name of her tribe will never be forgotten. I borded a train for Whitechapel, and emerged in Jack the Ripper territory to discover that night had falled and - how appropriate! - a light mist had fallen. I was discomforted at Whitechapel Station by a large notice from the Metropolitan Police warning that 'muggings occur regularly in this area' and so decided not to wander the streets looking for the likes of Buck's Row and Dorset Street (since renamed), vowing instead to enter the first pub I found and have a pint before leaving. The first pub I found was The Blind Beggar. I entered, ordered my pint, and sat down in a corner, thinking that the pub's name sounded familiar... I was right! (Interested in The Krays? This site will tell you more.)

Finally I grabbed a couple of take-aways from an off-license, jumped on a train (chatting to some cheerfully drunk young Kiwi backpackers on the way back into central London), and went back to Rick's to watch a little of the space-Western (as opposed to space opera) TV series Firefly. What a day!