-The English Weekend-

Me with Lely's Venus

How artists capture the human form in stone is something I will never understand, but which I do admire.  Also, while admiring, I like to mimic these statues in my photos.  Adds a little flavour to a museum visit.

With Dan and Maria, I wandered through a good portion of the British Museum Friday morning, stopping only briefly in the museum café for a pick-me-up, espresso style.  They had some great collections, stocked up from their colonial conquests, but what really struck me was the museum itself.  Once inside, it is a beautiful building filled with natural lighting.  The cyclical orientation also made it really simple to navigate, unlike the Louvre, where I've given up trying to find specific exhibits and just wander at random, seeing what I see.

The must-see piece of this museum was the Rosetta Stone, but they also have a fake one that you can touch.  So I did.  Touching the real one is a bit more difficult, considering the glass case.  For lunch we headed to the Shakespeare's Head pub for the happy-hour priced fish and chips.  Not a groundbreaking culinary experience, but definitely a British one.  Followed by a hot cup of Earl Grey.  We spent the afternoon walking along a few of the shopping streets, but unfortunately my only purchase of the day was in the British Museum gift shop.

And for the evening?  We met Caleb for a tasty dinner at Wagamama's, my new favourite restaurant.  The French do French cooking very well, but London manages to cover a lot more ground with very tasty Asian restaurants.  The curry is even spicy in London!  Yes, Paris, your curry disappoints me.

Saturday morning I headed out to the infamous Portabello Road, and spent the next four hours wandering without purpose.  There was just so much to see!  It's like a museum of people, with all of the antique shops and their wrinkled proprietors, the googley-eyed tourists, the serious shoppers, the younger and louder street stall vendors, the dirty hippies with their accordions and guitars...and me, slathering on sunscreen and taking it all in.

I talked to a very nice old man, with a radish of a nose, about his adorable teddy bears, but I really didn't have room in my backpack for a teddy bear sporting overalls and a stick pony.  I also saw two girls who had created a mini-stage inside a suitcase and opened it to perform a tiny marionette dance.  Not worth giving them any money, but at least it was more original than the young man down the street with a guitar playing Sufjan Stevens songs. 

 The dragon, shortly to be slain

After getting lost and "exploring" for an hour until I found my way back, I met up with my friends at Trafalgar Square for St. George's Day celebrations.  What is St. George's Day?  Upon first impression, it's an excuse for drinking in public and wearing strange costumes, but upon closer inspection, it's based on some centuries-old legend that this guy, George, slayed a dragon, and apparently England is still grateful.  We watched some performances and a busking competition on the temporary stage, and got our pictures with this guy before calling it an evening and heading to Maoz for a falafel dinner: