May 21
I put on my Shakespeare tie, a Christmas present from Tenebrous Kate, and headed south today.
I spent about an hour and a half in the British Museum this morning, making up for not visiting yesterday. Saw Prehistoric, Bronze Age, and Iron Age Brit stuff, all of which interests me but will bore the hell out of reasonable people, so steel yourselves the next time you see me coming.
The mask from the Sutton Hoo burial.
The Lewis Chess Men.
I got to the Horse Guards just in time to see the end of the changing of the guard. Then passed the Houses of Parliament, which I believe are named for some kind of tangy sauce that's similar to Worcestershire. To show that I'm not making this up, here's a photo of me in front of Big Ben.
I couldn't believe Westminster Abbey. Last time I was there, you just walked in. Now it's 13 pounds (because I'm a senior citizen) just to get through the door. I understand they need money to operate, but charging an admittance fee for a church—and on the scale of Disney World besides—is nasty. If they let you walk in, the way they did years ago when I was here before, and then when you got inside they said, “Harry, this place costs a lot to run. Can you spare us twenty bucks?" Hell, I’d have kicked that in and been happy.”
What was worse is that the line was out the walk and down the block. The place is almost as popular as the Empire State Building. I’m guessing the royal wedding had something to do with the turnout.
I walked along the Thames on a road called Victoria Embankment for a while and then climbed the hill to Fleet Street. I had a cheese plate for lunch at a literary pub called the Cheshire Cheese, down in the cellar where I had to duck my head. Dr. Johnson and Boswell, and maybe William Butler Yeats used to hang out there.
Then I crossed a bridge to Southwark,which is Shakespeare country. Didn't have time for the Tate Modern, but headed for the Globe. The theater was closed for a dress rehearsal.
But wait, it gets better. Talk about weird luck: I got the last ticket for a seat to see my favorite play, "As You Like It," tomorrow at one in the New Globe Theater. There was a standing ticket, too, so I could have been one of the groundlings, but my feet are getting sore.
That's one. Number two is stumbling across something I never knew about. There was a sign on a lane called Bear Gardens (right next to the Globe) that directed me to the Rose Theater. (Anybody see "Shakespeare in Love"?) A block down and to the left, there's an archaeological site, now covered by a commercial building, where the original Rose was excavated and then covered up again to protect the remains.
The building was put up with a large interior space that leaves the Rose site accessible. Much of the space is a pond. The water preserves the remains in the ground.
I saw a film there about the site that included clips from "Shakespeare in Love" and was narrated by Ian MacKellan (spelling uncertain)—y'know, Gandalf the Grey. Then a lady came out and pointed out details of the excavation. The outline of the original playhouse is marked by strings of lights.
They do plays there, too, and I saw "Henry VI, Part 1" tonight, after I went to Eastcheap and Cannon Street and finally found the London Stone. In another of the Henry VI plays, there is a scene in which Jack Cade, the leader of a peasant’s rebellion, brings his followers into London and sits on London Stone.
The play space at the Rose site consists of a small stage with a dozen or so chairs for the audience. some of the action takes place around the pond, but most of it is on the little stage.
There is little distance between audience and actors. In one scene, a character is thrown to the ground. He landed on my shoe. I didn’t even break character. That was fun.
You don’t get to see the Henry VI plays often, especially not part 1. It’s a hard sell, seeing that Joan of Arc is the bad guy.
May 22
Taking a breather at the hotel where it's about 5:30 local time on Sunday afternoon.
The Globe was the highlight of the day--even better than the beer. You get to rent a seat cushion, just like in the old days. Is that cool or what?
"As You Like It" plays itself, so enjoying the show was a given. All the players have to do is say their lines and it works.
But this seems to be everybody's favorite play, including actors and directors, so this one—like so many other productions of it—was really clever. The musical numbers, Using things like a fiddle, ukulele, harmonium, and harmonica (Played by Duke Senior who did one scene with the instrument brace around his neck), were so funny they stopped the show each time.
Both dukes and Audrey, the one who marries the clown,were all played by the same guy, who had whiskers. During one scene change, the other players pulled his Audrey shift over his head and put him into his Duke Senior coat and hat all in one movement—another round of applause.
There was a staid-looking white-haired lady next to me who was ululating at the end of the show.
They asked us not to take photos of the play. But I took some shots of the interior of the theater when the actors were off, and nobody complained.
They had a musical routine at the start about turning cell phones off. During the first act a couple of people turned and glared at me. I was late to notice that my tape recorder had started to play back some of my trip commentary in my pocket.
Fuller's products—London Glory ale, London porter, golden ale—are very good on draft. So is Truman's, but I only saw that at the 10 Bells. Adnam's also satisfies. I've also had a couple of IPAs that I'd call thin.
Southwark is a great part of the metropolis. The cathedral is still free and open. The bells are amazing.
Shakespeare's brother is buried there, and so is John Gower, a poet contemporary with Chaucer, and Lancelot Andrewes, former rector of St. Giles Cripplegate, later a bishop, and most important, one of the editors of the second-greatest literary work in the English language, the King James version of the Bible.
Gower's tomb.
Lancelot Andrewes.
The Anchor Bankside is now a crowded pub with three bars and a large outdoor area for the spillover crowd. The first time I went there, in 1996, I was one of five guys at the bar, and that included the bartender. Clink Wharf, which is between the cathedral and the pub, near the site of the old Clink prison, back then was a desolate passage between two boarded-up ancient warehouses. It was so beautiful that it was used as a location for "Murder by Decree." Christopher Plummer and a witness he has tracked down are almost run over by a carriage there.
Now it is shamefully gentrified. There are upscale wine stores on the street, and I didn't recognize it. I know there is a crying need for wine everywhere, but some things should not be tampered with.
I'm headed for Piccadilly Circus and Soho in a little while and plan to sample more ale, maybe with bangers and mash, or another savory pie. Will spend tomorrow morning in the British Museum, and maybe stop at the Tate (which I still haven't managed) or another part of the National Gallery before I have to light out for Heathrow.
By the way, somehow this figure was placed in front of the National Gallery looking out over Trafalgar Square.
So this will be Harry, like Edward R. Murrow, signing off with the last report direct from London (unless I get arrested).
[Editor's note: Harry did not get arrested in SoHo. When the pimp asked him if he wanted a girl, he declined. A funny thing happened at the Duke of Wellington pub. Harry walked in and asked the lady behind the bar for a bitter. She did a sort of double take and drew the ale. Harry turned around, started to drink and realized that the lady behind the bar was the only woman in the place, which was full of couples. The funny thing was that double-take. Was it because Harry wasn't a regular? Or did her intuition tell her Harry was straight and what the hell was he doing there? Or what?]
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