Okay, so we’ve been pretty bad about keeping up with what we’re doing. We’ve got trips to Mexico, Netherlands, and the other half of France to document, Gogol Bordello and Cake concerts, and Eeyore’s Birthday all partially written and needing to be finished. But we’re leaving Austin today, and we’ll be without internet access for a bit, so we should at least let you, our loyal (?!) readers know what’s up, and maybe that will give us incentive to catch our asses up.

Austin to Phoenix, in 11 days, by way of Big Bend National Park, Carlsbad Caverns, the Extraterrestrial Highway, and so on. A jaunt to Philly, then back to Phoenix to find a spot to live on tha California coast. Toodles!

This week flew by.  Ceridwen did some more London sightseeing, I did some more London work, and I just barely got the notes we took on the first half of our weekend in Paris posted.  Part ][ (the Louvre) and photos are still forthcoming.

And tonight we’re off to Amsterdam.  In fact, Ceridwen is already off.  We realized while planning that even though I need to work a full day, there’s no reason she needs to sit around London waiting for me.  So we booker her on the (cheaper) noontime flight and I’ll catch up this evening.  With all the cock-ups at Heathrow Terminal 5’s grand opening, hopefully she took off on time.  We’re flying BMI out of Terminal 1, but we feared that people scheduled out of 5 might be trying to change their plans to fly on other airlines or the BAA might be rearranging staff, etc.  I guess I’ll find out when she lands.

Hopefully, the hotel in Amsterdam will have internet access and we can get something posted before we’re back in the U.S.

Sun 23 Mar

Since today was a significantly less ugly day than yesterday, we started out with another walk around the Jardin des Tuileries behind the Louvre, then looped around to walk along the south side of the Siene back to Notre Dame and headed down Boulevard Saint-Michel to see Le Panthéon. En route we discovered some lesser known Paris treasures, such as the Sorbonne, and the Musée National du Moyen Age, aka the Musée Cluny, which is either in or behind some unexplained ancient ruins. Sort of like the pieces of the London Wall, the ruins are just sitting there (within a fence) amid the fully upright architecture of modern Paris.

Le Panthéon, the final resting place of famous dead French folks like Voltaire, Victor Hugo, Marie Curie,

and Louis Braille, was hosting a big flower sale. It was a fundraiser for disease research, similar to the National Cancer Association’s Daffodil Days in the US, but they were selling a lot more than just single flowers; they had pots, arrangements, bulbs for transplant, and assorted other floral delights spread across the courtyard, plus bright yellow benches to sit out and observe the goings on (which may or may not be there year round). Due to it being Easter, we assumed le Panthéon was closed to the touristing public, not realizing that it was not a church so much as a “temple to the great intellectuals of France.” You’ve got to love a government - even a revolutionary one - that reconsecrates a church as a temple of the state because religion had fallen from popularity. Go France!

We circled around Le Panthéon to the Eglise Saint Etienne Du Mont, built over the course of 134 years and later dedicated to St. Geneviève, the patroness of Paris. Nowadays it serves as a standard church that churchgoing folk go to on Easter Sunday, but unlike most churches in America and other places we’ve been, this particular one had a guy with an electric guitar and small amplifier standing in front busking his soul out. It wasn’t quite clear if this was endorsed or condoned by the church, or if he was ready for a quick dash should any figures of clerical authority come outside, but there he was. Modern day in front of 16th century.

We stopped for tasty pastries at a shop near Palais du Luxembourg where they sell fancy chocolate Easter eggs upwards of €200 which we actually saw people buying. They had others on the top shelves which were far more ornate that may or may not have even had prices on them. We took our pastries in to the Jardin du Luxembourg and enjoyed them in the abundant seating around the fountain before wandering the statuary around the gardens. It wasn’t until we returned to London a few days later that we learned that the 1870 prototype Statue of Liberty which we thought we were looking at in Allée des Cygnes actually lives somewhere in the Luxembourg Gardens that we didn’t find (or know to look for). The gardens themselves are beautiful, and will probably be even more beautiful when things flower later this spring. We’ll just have to come back to Paris some time to take them in and track down the mini-Liberty.

After a solid morning of outdoor Parisian wandering, we decided we’d had enough of the cold and were ready to check out the Louvre. Being Clever Tourists, we used the Metro entrance to buy our tickets and skip the lines in the courtyard. It turns out that the lines aren’t actually due to the large quantity of people or slow processing or anything, but rather than hundreds of people per hour all need to funnel in to one escalator to get in via the Pyramid - whether they have a ticket or not. Some people skip the line and wait for the elevator, but you’re still waiting in line to get to the point where you can get out of it to reach the elevator. All in all, an aestetically pleasing but all together inefficient entrance. When we build our high-profile art museum, we’re totally going to create a mass entrance system that will rival the tap-in cards they use on subways in most cities now.

You go to Paris, you can’t miss the Eiffel Tower. Check. You go to the Louvre while you’re there, you can’t miss the Mona Lisa. Okay, rumor has it that it’s a ridiculous line/crowd, so we got that out of the way first. We had pictured the Mona Lisa as being all alone on a bare wall at the end of a long bare hallway, similar to the way it was represented in a carboard puppet book Keath had as a child where Mickey Mouse had to figure out who stole the Mona Lisa. It is nothing like that. And not just on a children’s book versus reality kind of way.

The Mona Lisa is indeed all alone on a bare wall, but it’s a freestanding bare wall in the middle of a room, more or less in the middle of the Louvre, which can be accessed via corridors on either side, and has many paintings on the four walls that actually define it as a room and don’t contain the Mona Lisa. Iestyn, Ceridwen’s brother, had told us that it would be much smaller than expected. Apparently, he was expecting a much larger painting than we had. The Mona Lisa was exactly the size we expected, and somewhat larger than our adjusted expectation after being told it would be smaller than expected. The funnel of people getting up close to get photos of it is rather amusing. There are tons of professional photos available in the world, taken with special arrangements to empty the room and control the lighting, etc, but everyone wants their own. The painting is behind glass, so chances are you’re going to get a flash flare and/or the reflections of the crowds in your shot. We tried our hand at a few shots over people’s heads, grabbed a requisite “look, I was here” photo of both Ceridwen and the Mona Lisa, and headed out to see the rest of the art.

Directly behind the Mona Lisa (on one of the aforementioned actual room walls) is Tiziano Vicellio dit Titien’s painting Allégorie conjugale, a classic example of Italian boobie-groping art. (Venus’ boob; Mars’ hand. While Hymen and Cupid watch.) We roamed the halls of the French and Italian masters, taking in the Passions of the Christ1, a pair of Davids with matching heads of Goliath2, the death of Cleopatra3, Romulus and Remus as babies4, some Napoleanic action5, a massacre of women and horses in the lap of luxury6, some naked Spartan warriors7, looking far more jovial than the movie, and dozens other warriors, goddesses, and naked people of every gender and age, sometimes all in one painting8. Oh, right, let’s not forget the awesome/creepy painting of a Saint Anselme with his eyes rolled back in to his head, as best as we could translate, proclaiming the doctrine of the immaculate conception while those who would question the claim get smitten as their sacriligious writings burst in to flames9. Damn. Don’t mess with Anselme10.

We worked our way across to see the Venus de Milo, taking in large quanities of art on the way. It would be wonderful to be able to take a longer visit to Paris and really spend multiple days wandering the Louvre, but our attention spans don’t really allow for packing too much art in to one day. Something we didn’t really know about the Louvre was that the building was a palace for centuries before it became a public museum (initially in the 18th century under Louis XV). In fact, it was a fortress from the late 1100s until Charles V converted it to a royal residence in 1358. Thusly, there are many areas that aren’t showing off paintings or sculptures, but objets d’art and the actual walls, ceiling, and furniture of the Louvre itself. We were most entranced by some crown jewels (of Josephine and Eugenia) and a ceiling painting apparently depicting Azrael looking down at the ruins of Paris (we couldn’t find a placard to confirm it’s content). Our travels also brought us past a temporary exhibit in a few rooms that included a man made of brass thumbtacks playing chess and a pair of landscape models depicting advancing armies of insects. Although interesting, they were definitely in contrast to the “classic” artworks surrounding them. It’s kind of hard to miss the Winged Victory of Samothrace, being in the middle of the main stairwell, but it is an imposing statue. Many people seemed to regard it as almost commercial sculpture - something inserted in to a space to keep it from being empty - and simply walked around it to get somewhere else. But if you actually stop to inspect it, it’s an incredible creation - this huge monolith of marble carved in the third century B.C. sitting on a similarly huge pedestal of more marble. The quality of detail was so defined that experts were able to determine by the musculature of her torso that when the statue had arms one of them was raised (later determined to be cupped around her mouth, presumably proclaiming a naval victory, once they discovered the hand).

Somewhere in the Napoleonic bedrooms we stopped for a sit down and observed the courtyard out the window. There are eight statues on the ledge of the balcony on the second floor of the Louvre, facing the courtyard, so we spent some time trying to make out the inscriptions or figure out who they were based on the statues. Clearly, our knowledge of French artists is inadequate. We identified Blaise Pascal and François-Eudes de Mézeray by name, and though we thought Mezeray was Molière, it turns out he’s the next one down, but that’s about as far as we got. Some extreme zoom on the photos after the fact revealed Nicolas Boileau and François Fénelon beyond him. Note: bring opera glasses next time, or get an obscenely large camera lens.

By this point we were getting pretty loopy, so when we got to the rooms of large architectural sculpture which you could walk right up to, we took our best shot at emulating the faces on the statuary. (Ceridwen tried to stare down a cherub, as Keath feigned death while standing.) Sparticus, Joan of Arc, and four Captifs representing the nations conquored by France (Brandebourg, Spain, Holland, and l’Empire, whereever that is) and their attitudes towards being conquored (revolt, hope, resignation, and abatement) were some highlights of the sculpture garden. We continued to work our way around, got rather startled on the large testicles on the status of Pan, and marveled for quite some time over the spectacular status of a small child wrestling a goose. Apparently, the mischievous struggle of a child trying to catch a goose was very famous in Antiquity. Go figure.

Eventually, we did actually find the Venus de Milo. She was less crowded than the Mona Lisa, but did have a big empty room all to herself. She was more or less as you’d expect, and frankly was a bit disappointing after all the other amazing statues we’d seen, but she’s famous, and we’ve seen her, so we can check that off a mysterious life list somewhere.

Post-Venus, we did a quick loop around the Medieval Louvre - the foundations of the fortress originally at this location - before arising from the depths out the Pyramid. Yes - for some reason there’s no problem funneling people up the single escalator.

Post-Louvre, we headed to the Bastille to see what there was to see: a monument in the middle of a traffic circle, a la Trafalgar Square. And a much trendier part of Paris than the other bits. Definitely a neighborhood worth considering for a return visit.

When night decended, we headed back to to Arc de Triomphe, this time heading up it to examine Paris at Night From Above. It was, in fact, a marvelous view, despite the rain. Possibly one of the most terrifying views of Paris is straight down at the traffic circle, which has no lines and makes no attempt to control traffic in any way - there have got to be at least a dozen near-misses every minute. Cabs cut off other motorists who cut off busses who cut off tourists in rental cars that go around the circle several times before finding their way to the outside enough to access a turn, at which point they have a fairly high chance of hitting someone on a scooter or bicycle swerving between vehicles. l’eek! We waited around for the top of the hour light show on the Eiffel Tower and then headed for dry land. And bed.

1. Antonio Campi, Les Mystères de la Passion du Christ
2. Bartolomeo Manfredi, Le triomphe de David and Guido Reni, David vainquer de Goliath
3. Alessandro Turchi, La Mort de Cléopâtre
4. Pietro Berrettini dit Pierre de Cortone, Romulus et Rémus recueillis par Faustulus
5. Paul Delaroche, Bonaparte Franchissant les Alpes
6. Eugène Delacroix, Mort de Sardanapale (Based on Sardanapalus by Lord Byron, now public domain: http://books.google.com/books?id=nDHpbuVoOE4C&dq=sardanapalus+lord+byron&pg=PP1&ots=cZ0I11r9JA&sig=JKteMqgOucQXs9Je2N8Y1cnJosg&hl=en&prev=http://www.google.com/search?q=Sardanapalus+Lord+Byron&ie=utf-8&oe=utf-8&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a&sa=X&oi=print&ct=title&cad=one-book-with-thumbnail)
7. Louis David, Léonidas aux Thermopyles
8. Louis David, Les Sabines
9. Giuseppe-Maria Crespi, L’Immaculée Conception avec Saint Anselme et Saint Martin
10. This, of course, begs the question: is Saint Anselme the same as Saint Anselm, presumably the namesake of the Catholic college outside Manchester, New Hampshire?

Fri 21 Mar

Our mid-day arrival was followed by the requisite consideration on how to navigate the Paris Metro. It seemed like an easy enough concept, but the people in front of us in line at the ticket machine were having great difficulties. Bracing ourselves for a machine that didn’t speak English, we double-checked the name of our destination stop and tried to see what the French folks nearby were doing. After about ten minutes of confusion, when we stepped up for our turn, we pushed the big British flag in the top corner and had tickets about one minute later. Go figure.

On the flight from London, we learned from the in-flight magazine that Paris is the fifth most expensive city in the world for hotel rooms1. Thus, our hotel was certainly not five minutes from the Champs-Élysées, but it was five minutes from a metro stop in the suburbs which got us pretty much anywhere. Mad props to Paris on their metro. When we checked in we got a top story room with a view of Eiffel Tower - which is pretty sweet. The hotel is nice, but aside from the distance to the touristy bits of Paris there’s no free breakfast included - we’ve clearly become spoiled.

To cap off our Travel-To-Paris day, we headed out to the Eiffel Tower for the requisite romantic first night in Paris. We had dinner at a 24 hour Italian café that crammed tourists in like sardines, but served delicious, though not very uniquely French, food. Afterwards, we grabbed a late night banana and chocolate crêpe and resolved from that point on to stick to strict diet of crêpes and croissants (which we later amended to include a plat du fromage, an omelet and some additional pasta to ensure continued nourishment).

Sat 22 Mar

We started our Grand Parisian Sightseeing Fest by heading out to Montmartre for early morning city-scape viewing. Along with the church and city, we got to see our first Art Deco Metro sign. Ceridwen, along with the rest of the world, finds the idea of a Paris that presumably no longer exists unbearably romantic. Though damp, the view over the city was lovely. The mist in the air caught the rising sun with a great subtle effect of color that can’t really be captured in a photograph (at least not with our current skills and equipment) yet at the same time evoked a feeling of those old photos of the aforementioned Paris of yesteryear.

After circumnavigating the Basilique du Sacré-Cœur for a while, we went inside to view some kick ass mosaics of god and assorted other Catholic VIPs. Photography was not allowed and silence was kindly requested (in several languages), but it was certainly a sight to behold2. In addition to the complex mosaic ceilings and other distance-viewing friendly imagery, they had a number of smaller shields and crests along the altar and other constructs. It would seem that they are representative of counties or provinces or archdioceses or something, but they weren’t labeled (in French or otherwise) so we marveled at the details achieved in such up-close mosaic work and continued on our way.

Our first Parisian breakfast was coffee/tea and croissants at a nearby café, dining along with the portrait drawers who hang out on Montmartre if you’re there late enough3. This is another good reason to get to places early. Only one guy offered to draw us. We’re pretty sure our big noses would be easy targets for caricaturists, so we typically avoid having them done. Plus, sitting for a souvenir is certainly not efficient tourism. On the way down the hill we found an outlook to see the Eiffel Tower. It’s kind of imposingly large. Paris doesn’t have any skyscrapers of note like other cities do, so it’s not like the tower can be seen from only certain tippy top places. If you’re anywhere higher than a couple of stories and there’s not another building directly next to you, chances are you can see the Eiffel Tower. It makes us wonder why anyone would say “Make sure you see the Eiffel Tower” when they learn someone is going to Paris. It’s like reminding someone to see the ocean when they go to Kauai.

Next stop; Notre Dame de Paris. Though glimpses of Sainte-Chapelle in the distance threw us off when we first came up from the Metro, we eventually managed to find the second most famous building in Paris. Notre Dame pretty much rules. Ceridwen is crazy about buttresses and the dome-y archways that result and is quite fond of stained glass as well. Catholic upbringing or just a strong love of lavishness - we’ll let you make up your own mind about that. They started a mass while we were there, but unlike other churches and cathedrals we’ve been to as tourists, there was no problem with continuing our wandering. Notre Dame is set up rather uniquely: there is an altar with seats running out the length of the nave, but to either side of the seating was an aisle that wrapped right around behind the altar. So, while the service started we were able to look at all the chapels around the way without interrupting worshipers. The service was mostly hymns - at least while we were there - which truly adds to the feeling of the cathedral. It’s too bad all Gothic cathedrals can’t have a chorus singing the whole time they’re open to the public.

Once we’d had our fill of the inside, we toured around the outside of Notre Dame, trying to spot which gargoyle is ours4, and eventually stopping at a souvenir shop to buy an umbrella, since it was beginning to look as if ours would be a rainy trip to Paris.

After leaving the Notre Dame areas, we headed for the Latin Quarter and some more crêpes and some wine in a café. Sure, it was only 10:30 in the morning, but we had been up for hours. Wine was called for. Some more rather aimless wandering led us to the Louvre, which, despite the rain, we decided to forgo for the day. The rain had driven the rest of the tourists there and Zyrtec isn’t effective on crowd allergies. We continued our walk up towards l’Arc de Triomphe, passing through the Place de la Concord and walking along the Champs-Élysées. Ah, all those tasty French words in one sentence. That was all we had planned for the day, so when we ended up at l’Arc at 1pm, we were momentarily flummoxed. Our plan had been pulled from recommendations from friends and family and from what Ceridwen had been imagining since learning about Paris in her seventh grade French class - and we had not bothered to buy a guidebook. A quick glance at a tourist map and a Metro map and we were off.

Off to what we thought at the time was the scale model of the Statue of Liberty built in 1870 in preparation for the “real one” in New York. When we arrived at the south end of Allée des Cygnes, it turned out instead to be a statue presented to Paris by “the Parisian community of the United States of America”5 They give us a 151 foot tall, 204 ton copper and steel statue that people can climb up and view the city from to celebrate the centennial of our independence. Then we give them a 20-some-odd foot tall replica to celebrate the centennial of their gift to us? Was it because they missed our centennial by ten years? Hardly seems fair. We should start a movement to share something real - maybe in 2058 if the fifth republic reaches it’s centennial?6

Having completed our “sightseeing checklist” and then some, we swung by the Opéra national de Paris on our way back to the hotel for a midafternoon nap. We, of course, worked more crêpes in to the route.

When we emerged, we took a suspiciously empty metro car out to Moulin Rouge and all the other moulins. We had intended to see them this morning while up at Montmartre, but were looking at a map that did not include them. When our map got excessively rumpled and we pulled out the other one6 and realized that they were indeed around the corner. As fate would have it, the area is significantly cooler at night. We hiked up the hill to a couple of old windmills that haven’t been converted in to cabarets many decades ago: one was a restaraunt and the other seemed to just be hiding in the trees alongside a parking lot. Around that time our camera battery finally decided it had had enough of the cold and wet air, so we nestled up under a heat lamp outside another Italian café, where the waiter made fun of Keath’s attempt at pronouncing French words, and we had a lovely dinner. It turns out the entire staff of this café are wise asses - it was a welcome change from the courteous but somewhat “you-must-be-proper” attitude exuded at other cafés.

1. Moscow, New York, Dubai, and Milan beat it out, respectively, if you’re interested.
2. We’d be interested to know if the several dozen stacks of votive candle boxes towering three to four feet each are typical worshipper supplies or Easter weekend stockpilings. If you know, do tell.
3. i.e. at a reasonable hour for tourists
4. We have a framed photo from the early 1900s taken from the top of Notre Dame, capturing both the profile of a close-up gargoyle and the city beyond.
5. If we’re translating the plaque correctly.
6. Perhaps a likeness of Liberty a la Liberty leading the People? We can get the guy who did the statue of Iowa’s affections to design it.
7. The one with big, gaudy Marriot logos covering several blocks of downtown Paris…

Most offices in the UK are closed on the Friday preceding and the Monday following Easter. As I’m in London for work for three weeks, I decided that those would be some excellent days to take vacation and hop to cities in Europe we haven’t seen1. So, for Easter weekend, we snagged some EasyJet tickets from London to Paris. Due to the holiday we didn’t get to take advantage of their £5 fares, but it was still quite a deal.

We arrived yesterday afternoon, found our hotel, then bundled up to check out the Eiffel tower at night. This morning, we arose bright and early and systematically checked off our entire “things to do in Paris” list by 1:00. We added on to it a quick visit to the miniature Statue of Liberty that the US presented to France, then circled back around to hit Moulin Rouge after dark.

We’ll add details and photos later, but it’s nearing 1 AM here and I’ve been feeling guilty that our “home is currently” photo was still showing Parliament. Granted, we’ll be back in London in about 33 hours, but for now, enjoy the Tour Eiffel.

All throughout the day it has been incredibly cold and raining on-and-off. Not exactly the most fun weather for Paris on the first day of spring, but it’s about the only thing we have to complain about. (Well, the Metro travel cards are pretty poorly operated too.)

Tomorrow we’re hoping to spend some time in the cozy warmth of the Louvre, as our plans to see the Château de Versailles was thwarted by a workers’ strike.

G’night!

1. I have actually been to Paris before, but I was seven or so, terribly ill, and then doped up on belladonna, so I don’t remember much of it.

Today’s activity: take a bus to Windsor Castle and watch the changing of the guards.  I got up with Keath today in order to make the early bus to Windsor.  It was frigid and wet this morning, so I was very glad I had decided to take the bus.  The alternative was the train, which involves a much farther walk on either end.  I got to Windsor Castle about a half an hour before they opened and intended to walk around the town, but the aforementioned cold got the better of me and I spent the time in a Marks & Spencer drinking latte and reading.  I think I have now officially relinquished my New Hampshire native status. 

Once the Castle opened, I wandered around taking photos and trying not to get too cold.  I love castles and gardens and Windsor Castle is surrounded by a moat that is now a garden, so I spent some blissful time taking photos of all the castle-y bits. 

After my photo taking need was sated a bit, I went into St. George’s Chapel and listened to my free audio guide’s interpretation of historical events and architectural details.  I learned that had obstetrics been more advanced in the early 19th century, the British Empire would have been a very different place, as Queen Charlotte would have been the monarch rather than Queen Victoria.  Instead, Princess Charlotte died in childbirth. 

After exhausting the audiobook’s knowledge, I headed outside to view the changing of the guard.  I hadn’t seen this particular ceremony before, so I had no idea what to expect.  I didn’t expect it to be a half an hour long or to be quite so confusing.  It’s one of those things that is so steeped in traditiona and ritual that the reasons for the details are unfathomable to the casual observer.  There was a lot of shouting, a lot of shuffling of big heavy shoes, some dosey-doing of guards, quite a few songs played by the military band and some cold looking, bright red castle guard ears.  When the guards in the actual little guard hut switched, the new guard crab walked up to the side of the old guard while peering intently into the other guys ear.  The crowd became one big muffled giggle while to two switched off positions and then managed to settle down again as the rest of the ceremony proceeded. 

Once the changing of the guard was over, it was time to go inside where it was warm.  The State Apartments are pretty much what I’ve come to expect from royal residences: gilt! oil paintings! silk wallpaper! painted ceilings! clogs and crowds of people shoving in every direction!  Still, it was quite fun to see a portrait of Queen Elizabeth the First as a thirteen year old girl.  Well, a thirteen year old princess.   For some reason an insane group of adults had thought it wise to bring a troupe of 20 or so 3 year olds.  3!  I mean, c’mon, they’re not going to remember any of this after nap and graham crackers.  Wait until they’re 7 or so.   It was fun to see a Castle where actual state business is still conducted.  Many of the rooms are still used by the Queen, which is a first for any of the other royal places I’ve visited.

Once through the State Apartments, I headed back to the bus and back to London, where it was pouring rain and cold.  Presumably, this will mean April flowers. 

While poor Keath has to spend his time in London training colleagues, I get to go out on the town. We arrived on Monday, but jet lag and I do not get along and jet lag always wins. I spent Monday curled in a little ball fast asleep. I managed to unpack before Keath got home, drag myself to the pub across the street for dinner and that was about it. I was asleep before Keath climbed into bed.

Today was much better. After making a good start on learning Turbo Kick Round 32, I headed out to the Petrie Museum of Egyptian Archeology. I took the tube up to Euston Square and followed signs for the museum that seemed to lead to a large iron gate. Since it wasn’t one o’ clock yet, which is when they opened, I figured I’d go wait in the British Museum down the street. I wandered the galleries going along the path of least resistance (meaning I ran the other direction when I saw groups of school children) and got to see some really cool stuff. I also learned that the museum mode on our new little camera works quite well. Here’s some evidence to support my claim:

This guy hung out in an Assyrian temple/palace looking imposing. And a bit bemused.

Mmmm, Egyptiany goodness.

After some more aimless wandering, I headed out to see if I could find the entrance to the Petrie Museum. And, ta da!, there it was. The gate had been opened and I could now follow the signs. The museum is housed in the Science Library of the University of London, so I had to sign in and get a security guard to let me in. The museum has a vast quantity of artifacts from nearly every period of Egyptian history. It’s a little overwhelming, really. Everything is crammed into display cases in as orderly a manner as the limited space allows and labeled with severely abbreviated tags. All in all, very fun and interesting. They require that you ask permission before sharing any photos, and I didn’t, so I don’t get to put any of the photos I took up here, but the little camera once again did a fabulous job in museum mode.

After museum two, I headed back home to Hammersmith for a goat cheese crepe and some book reading in the bath. If there’s one thing I miss about a stationary home it’s a bath tub, so whenever I get the chance, I take a bath.

Once Keath got home we went downstairs to use our drink vouchers and headed to Embankment for dinner. We ended up eating at a place called Eat. It was fabulous and yummy cafeteria style. I love British sandwiches with their cheese and relish fillings. So tasty and so vegetarian friendly. That was pretty much it. I’m tired. I go nigh nigh.