@juliamc and @profgrumpy go to church -- a London trip report

[profgrumpy]

@JuliaMc has finally worked out that visiting Europe in actual Europe is better than going to Epcot, so now I can’t keep her away. I thought I was safe here.

Last weekend, she stopped off in London on her way to Italy and we spent a couple of days together cramming in some of the sights.

We started with the Victoria & Albert Museum, which had a special Cartier exhibit. While much of it was undeniably beautiful, the socialist in me felt uncomfortable with the enormous collections of almost priceless jewels held by royal families around the world.

These were my highlights:

I can only imagine the value of the entire exhibition.

We started early the following day at Westminster Abbey. You may be surprised to hear that, in Disney parlance, this was a one-and-done for me. It’s like a junkyard of memorials. It’s so crammed you have to shuffle by them all with all the other tourists, occasionally seeing a name your recognise or which excites you. In my case:

And, of course, Isaac Newton’s ridiculously overblown memorial:

The Abbey itself is surprisingly small. Which is not to say that it’s small, but it’s like the anti-Tardis: a lot smaller on the inside than on the outside.

We then climbed the many steps to the Queen’s Gallery, where photography is not allowed. But I was wearing my stalker Ray-Bans and discretely whispered “Hey, Meta. Take a photo.” There were some fun items up here:

A Magna Carta

The marriage licence of William and Kate. For some reason, it was important the Archbishop of Canterbury’s name was written in enormous letters, but those of the bride and groom were hidden in the text.

This is a lovely portrait and shows the burden of the crown.

I don’t remember who this is, but next to her is her parrot, who was her companion for 40 years. It died shortly after she did, presumably of grief.

Another feature of the Gallery is the view. No photos.

The cloisters were lovely:

We then walked to the National Portrait Gallery. Which is not the same thing as the National Gallery. I wanted to take @JuliaMc there because she’s a history buff. (Well, she says she is. I think she saw an PBS documentary about the Tudors once.)

Everyone’s favourite wife of Henry VIII, Anne Boleyn

And everyone’s favourite queen, her daughter, Elizabeth I.

Napoleon and the Duke of Wellington taking in very different views (Napoleon from St Helena, where he was exiled and died, Wellington surveying the field of the Battle of Waterloo).

And a personal highlight:

This is a self-portrait by Maggi Hambling. She has three arms because she says you need to hold only three things in life: a cigarette, a drink and a paintbrush.

Finally, a portrait of my own, titled Unknown tired American woman

By this point, @JuliaMc’s jetlag had really kicked in, so she headed back to the hotel, while I marched on to St Paul’s Cathedral.

I climbed to the Whispering Gallery (just below the windows at the bottom of the dome). Sadly, photographs are not allowed up there.

And from there I ascended further to an outdoor gallery:

The Central Criminal Court, known as the Old Bailey, featuring a blindfolded Justice, holding scales and sword.

Sadly the Crypt was partly closed. Some selfish bride was getting married down there. I expressed my displeasure to one of the guides, who agreed with me: “Someone’s being selfish, that much is true.”

This meant I missed seeing Sir Christopher Wren’s memorial, which I adore because the inscription is so snarky. Here’s a photo I stole from the internet:

So humble a memorial for so great a man? Perhaps. The key passage is at the end: “Reader, if you seek a monument, look around you.” Love that for him.

I then virtuously walked the two miles back to the hotel, which was an almost perfect straight line. @JuliaMc had awoken and was preparing for the next item on our agenda: afternoon tea.

We couldn’t go to the Ritz because I refuse to abide by dress codes, which I regard as ridiculously pompous. If you don’t like what I’m wearing, don’t look. So we went to the less well-known Dorchester Hotel. And I did the best I could to look nice for you all.

(You know I only post this stuff to troll you, right?)

The hotel is stunning and was clearly much nicer than the rundown motel @juliamc had booked for us.

Tea is served at the far end

[Continued in a later post]

[ryan1]

@profgrumpy

the enormous collections of almost priceless jewels held by royal families around the world

Something to consider…such items are only priceless because someone has placed arbitrary value on them. And how much they are worth is determined only based on how much anyone is willing to pay for them. So “priceless” COULD, in theory, amount to “worthless” if no one would actually pay for them. Regardless, their value is only because there are wealthy people to begin with who would be willing to buy them.

So, I guess just admire them for the beautiful treasures they are…but in terms of “value”, I wouldn’t put too much stock in that, personally!!!

[gingerSnaps543222]

I mean…ummmmm…yes but we live in society so we can therefore exchange these things if we have them for security and large comfortable living spaces and healthcare so sure they are only priceless because people have deemed them so but we are people living with other people who have decided this is currency.

[profgrumpy]

My building has just had its electricity supply cut off, so I had to cut the report short. Here’s where we got to:

The card was a note from the hotel to me. Technically this was a birthday visit and the card was wishing me a day “filled with love”.

The sandwiches

A ridiculously delicious brioche bun stuffed with yumminess

A mini ice cream sandwich

The scones and cakes

And a special birthday treat for me

After tea, we headed to the theatre to see Richard II. This was because we love Shakespeare and are fascinated by English history. The fact it stars Jonathan Bailey from Bridgerton couldn’t have been further from our minds.

(Stolen from the theatre’s website)

As you can see it was one of those modern reinterpretations of Shakespeare. There was snorting of cocaine, which I’m not sure added anything to the plot. I’ve actually only ever seen one Shakespeare play, The Merchant of Venice, which I studied at school and have seen half a dozen times in theatres and on the screen. I felt a little bit like I do when I follow an orchestral score (which I cannot read) while listening to a symphony: I get the gist of it.

And then, wearily, we went to bed. Separate beds. Eww.

We had all manner of plans for Sunday, but we – well, I – had walked enormous numbers of steps and climbed enormous numbers of stairs, so we decided to just have a chilled out last day. Which primarily involved shopping at Louis Vuitton. Although she hides it well, @juliamc is a colossal snob and her malign influence has recruited me to her cause.

There’s the face of a man who knows he’s been a naughty boy and hopes he doesn’t get found out and told off.

Regular readers will know I’m obsessed with bags and things to carry around theme parks. Well, I bought a really beautiful long, zippy wallet that fits perfectly in my park bag and which I will definitely use a lot. And I also bought a ring. I’ve wanted one for ages but never quite found the right one. (For my fiftieth I bought – and sent back and rebought and sent back again – a gold ring but, well, it just wasn’t right for me.)

We also popped briefly into Selfridge’s and Liberty. (Oh, and one Day 1 we visited Harrod’s.) And – of course – the Disney store.

Finally, it was time to bid a sad farewell to @juliamc. Let’s hope this is the last time our paths cross.

I shall be adding Final Thoughts in my next post.

[profgrumpy]

Final thoughts

1. London is ghastly. Loud and crowded and awful. Well, OK, it was a bank holiday (i.e. public holiday) weekend and the weather was glorious, so this may not be wholly typical. But I was very glad to return to the tranquility of home. Also, London has some of the most vicious pollen I have ever encountered.
2. If you have to choose, I would pick St Paul’s Cathedral over Westminster Abbey. I’m not religious, but I did ask @juliamc at one point in the Abbey, “Where is God in here?” As I said, it’s like a junk yard of monuments to dead men. (And why do we store dead bodies? Isn’t that weird?) Also, it’s one of those awful churches where the good bits are hidden from the regular congregation by an elaborate screen. Don’t want poor people seeing the altar. St Paul’s has the wow factor that you’re looking for in a cathedral. It’s huge. And has a dome. And panoramic views. Both visits were interrupted by a cleric inviting us to be all quiet and prayerful for a moment, which was simultaneously entirely appropriate, but also really annoying. Both churches charge for entry, which is fair enough, but it’s quite expensive: about £26 (about $35) each. That being said, merch is considerably cheaper than at Disney – I got two lovely large medallion / coin things for £5 each and two lovely pins for about £8 each. St Paul’s is marginally further away from a lot of the tourist sites.
3. The London Underground (“the tube”) is safe, efficient and easy to use. You can just tap your credit card to pay for rides. London taxis are easy to get, too, but the traffic can make them expensive. A lot of the main stuff is very walkable.
4. There are lots of places for afternoon tea. We chose the Dorchester because @JuliaMc had already been to the Ritz and I wanted her to try somewhere new. It is at the top end of the price range for tea. Around Cake Bake pricing. But vastly better. The service was impeccable. You can have as much of everything as you want. The whole thing took nearly two hours and was very calming and lovely.
5. Harrods is hideous. It’s a massive warren of expensive concessions with snooty staff. There are no windows and it’s very claustrophobic. And it was rammed with people. Not recommended.

[profgrumpy]

I lied about my thoughts being final.

Let’s talk about toilets. I sense you want to.

Britain gets one thing wrong and one thing right when it comes to public toilets.

The stalls generally have fully sealed doors. No weird American-style gaps and doors that are two feet above the floor. (The one good thing about Club 33 is that the toilets in the lounges in the parks are British style. And clean, too.)

But the urinals often look like this:

Photo blurred to save the blushes of the ladies

This is wildly unacceptable. This one, the US does get right. (There are even worse versions which are – quite literally – one long trough. Ugh.)

Also, the toilet situation at the theatre was odd. Women were using the mens room stalls, despite having to wait in line for them only a few feet away from men using the urinals. I have never seen this before. There was a ladies room, too, and I’m sure there was an enormous line outside it during the interval. But, you know. Isn’t this why we all elected Trump?

[profgrumpy]

Finally (yes, finally this time), I forgot to mention what I bought at the Disney store.

Now I have six Plutos of varying sizes. This one is to take to bed with me when Calvin is no longer using his spot. There’ll be an update on that situation in a few weeks time.

[SJCricket]

It sounds like you should start saving for the next time you and Julia travel together. While I find the Meta Ray-Bans a bit creepy, I appreciate all the photos you took because I never made it to the Queen’s Gallery. I’m now going to look for the story about the parrot because I suspect that poor bird did not die of grief.

[melcort10]

@profgrumpy

Harrods is hideous.

But the food halls

And it can’t have been that bad because I spy a Harrods bag!

[Nicky_S]

Fortnum and Mason food halls are waaaaay better. And they do afternoon tea too.

[melcort10]

Now I am trying to remember if I made it to Fortnum and Mason. We had tea at the Dilly which was great.

[JuliaMc]

Why do you post ghastly jetlagged photos of me reading my book on my phone?

I’m sending you a Venmo request for the weekends exploits.

. (That’s an inside joke yall)

[JuliaMc]

My take on London with the professor (that’s what I call him as I have too many other Matthews in the vortex so we had to come up with a name to identify him easier)

London is a dirty Manhattan and I will DIE on that hill.

That said, I do love England and Europe and it was a perfect weekend in London on my way to Italy and Paris.

Some photos, which are presented without comments….

Yes, that’s a little dragon from Cake Bake Shop, his name is Winston and he’s on adventure with me.

We had fun, and sadly for @profgrumpy he’s stuck seeing me in Europe unless he just doesn’t show up when I fly over.

[JenniferB1975]

@profgrumpy

The fact it stars Jonathan Bailey from Bridgerton couldn’t have been further from our minds.

Me, jumping from the couch in excitement. NO FREAKING WAY!!!

[Julianne_fki]

@profgrumpy

There’ll be an update on that situation in a few weeks time.

Oh no! I’m not sure I can take any bad news about Calvin right now! The world is an awful place as it is. Hoping I just read that wrong, but sending hugs regardless. For Calvin, but also for you.

[drvillarejos]

@Julianne_fki

For Calvin, but also for you.

Yes. My heart breaks for the news that doesn’t sound good at all.

[ryan1]

It looks like you both had a fun time together. It is so cool to see these kind of friendships come out of these forums.

Thanks for sharing!

[Flavita]

@profgrumpy

Let’s talk about toilets. I sense you want to.

I’m dead.

[profgrumpy]

So Calvin is 14 years and 9 months old. He and I have been together for 14 years and 7 months. Over a quarter of my life.

He’s very tired. He’s very reluctant to go for walks. When we do go out, it can often just be across the road to a small park and back: five minutes at most. Except if both Paul and I take him, in which case he’s usually quite excited and more enthusiastic.

I took him for a “senior wellness check” a few months ago. His hearing and eyesight are diminished, he has a heart murmur, and he has dementia. His house-training is not great. I have to carry him up and down the stairs in my building (I live on the top floor). (I actually quite like doing that. It’s like a cuddle.) And he continues to have chronic, intermittent, rhinitis (he goes through phases of coughing a lot, and he overproduces snot). The vet actually identified two distinct coughs, the second caused by the heart murmur. He’s increasingly unsteady on his feet and he has fallen out of bed a couple of times, which has never happened before. (He also can no longer jump onto the bed. Occasionally when he jumps onto the sofa, he doesn’t quite make it and falls back.)

The difficult question is: when do I make The Decision. Do I wait until he gets cancer, for example?

I have always taken the view that I would personally like the option of peacefully ending my own life at a time of my own choosing when I’m ready to go. I don’t believe in the arbitrary prolongation of life. I’ve always taken this view, but I am also haunted by the 17 years of widowhood my mother miserably endured with ever-declining health.

My vet said to me that she is saddened when people shy away from euthanasia “because he’s still eating”. Well, of course he is.

Paul and I have discussed a possible date — in early July — which was chosen in part for our own convenience. Sometimes I look at Calvin and think he’ll live for many more months. Other times I wonder if he’ll make it to the end of the current month. Increasingly I worry that I’m scheming to kill my own dog.

He cannot live forever and is clearly declining. Nature can be cruel when allowed to take its own course.

For years I’ve worried about how I’ll react to his passing. I used to “joke” I’d throw myself on his funeral pyre. And a plan I was attracted to was to run away to Orlando as soon as it happened, as I did when my mother died.

But circumstances have changed. Paul and I are back living together — which is working out really well — and I know I won’t be alone. That being said, I think my grief will be similar to how I (unexpectedly) felt when my mother died: the fact that I became an orphan hit me really hard. I had no-one left who “had” to love me. The thing about a dog is that you know you have guaranteed unconditional love. Nothing can replace that. I think I will feel quite exposed and alone.

At the same time, a big part of me feels ready for change. Having a dog is a blessing, but it’s also an anchor around your neck. At least the way I do it. I have always had a policy that I will not leave him on his own, except when it is absolutely necessary. So I never go to restaurants unless they’re dog-friendly. I never go out shopping or to the cinema. I’m “looking forward” to being free to go wherever I want, whenever I want.

I was lucky to have Sarah to look after Calvin when I made my many trips to Orlando but a turning point came the last time, in December. He came back to me in a very bad state. Not through any neglect on Sarah’s part. I think he used to enjoy his little holidays with her. But now I think he finds them stressful. He wants to be at home, with me. And, mostly, he wants to sleep.

There is a complication. Paul has a cat. But he’s not comfortable with her living with us and Calvin. So she is staying with his mother. He’s very bonded to his cat and the expectation when we agreed to live together again was that this arrangement would be temporary. He wants his cat to live here, with us.

Paul’s not a monster. He’s not pressuring me in any way. But I am aware.

The vet said I’ll know when the time is right. Calvin will let me know. He’ll have more bad days than good days.

Meanwhile I’m torn. It’s selfish to try to make him live forever, especially when I don’t want that for myself. And it’s selfish to kill my own dog because it’s convenient timing for me.

Two photos. First, one Paul took while he was looking after Calvin when I was away in London:

Second, the tattoo I am planning on having:

[missoverexcited]

I have never had a pet, so I haven’t been through this. But it strikes me that what you would like to consider for yourself is your quality of life, and when that’s no longer sufficient you’d like it to end. And it’s no different for Calvin. Is he still enjoying life or not? It’s not selfish to let him be at peace. Even if the timing is convenient for you.

I’m sorry you’ve reached this stage.