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britlit
This Friday I was supposed to meet a friend at the Tower of London around three. She lives in another dorm that is all the way across town, so our plan was to meet at the Tower Hill Tube stop and then walk around.

Rather than taking the tube, I decided to walk over. I consulted with my flatmates, and they said the easiest way to get there was just to walk along the south bank of the river until I got to Tower Bridge and then go across.  I left about an hour, although the trip was supposed to take about forty minutes. I’m a slow walker, however, and I kept stopping to take pictures of everything. There is a path that runs along the riverbank that I took to get to the Tate Modern, but now I would be following it further than I had yet walked.
    
As I was walking down the riverbank I ran into this girl who I had met my second night here. I was getting over jet lag, and got tickets at the National Theatre to see Once in a Lifetime. While I was there I ran into two other Americans abroad, one of whom worked in London. We sat together and had a nice chat, but didn’t exchange numbers or anything, so I was never expecting to see that person again. But then, as I was walking along the South Bank (at a brisk trot because I was sure to be late), I ran into her, and we exchanged awkward greetings and commented on the strangeness of our meeting and that was that.   
    
Other then running into old acquaintances the walk was interesting but cold. I’d forgotten my gloves, and was hoping just to keep my hands in my pockets, but I kept wanting to photograph the sites (mainly because I felt guilty about not getting snap shots from my more temperate walk to Brick Lane) so my hands were stiff and red by the time I finally made it to the Tower. I passed familiar sites like the Tate Modern and Millennium Bridge, but I also got amazing views of the re-constructed Globe theatre, the HMS Belfast, and London Bridge.

Interestingly the London Bridge that now spans the Thames is not the original London Bridge. The original London Bridge was sold to an American who put it up somewhere in the West (Arizona, I think). He was unhappy with the purchase, however, because he thought he would be purchasing Tower Bridge. I can see how London Bridge (which is really just a bridge like any other, not in the least likely to fall down) would be a disappointment compared to Tower Bridge. Tower Bridge is august and ornate; the bridge that makes it onto all the postcards.

One windy bridge crossing later I arrived at the Tower Hill Tube stop five minutes late, but received a text message from my friend saying that she would be ten minutes late. So it all worked out. I visited London when I was in fourth grade, and the only thing I remember about that visit was the Tower of London. I was fascinated by all of the stories about beheadings and deposed kings and queens. The Tower looked just as impressive to me now as it did then, but unfortunately now unlike then I’m responsible for paying my own admission fee. When my friend showed up (twenty very cold minutes late), we decided that as we had both seen the Tower at some point in our lives, and as it was about three thirty and the Tower closed at four, it would not be worth it to pay the 11 pound admission fee. Instead, we contented ourselves with visiting the gift shop (another location that sold things having to do not with the Tower, but with Britishness in general a la Westminster Abbey) and then walking around the exterior.

The Impenetrable Tower of London

I ran into a Roman statue, believed to be of the Emperor Trajan, and I made my friend take a picture of me standing next to it so that I could send it to my friend at home who has an unhealthy obsession with Rome. We also visited a church that was located near the Tower. It was a modest little building that dated from much earlier than anything America, but had been bombed out during WWII and reconstructed. John and Abigail Adams were married there, and it provided my British history fix for the day, since I wasn’t going to see the inside of the Tower.

Me and Trajan

After the church my friend wanted to walk back along Tower Bridge, despite the fact that it had started to hail. After crossing we were cold. And hungry. Whiney was probably not far behind, and my friend was a relatively new acquaintance I was determined not to show her my whiney/cold/hungry self just then, so I suggested we go some place for tea.

We ended up at the same Tea museum at which I had had high tea with my mom a couple weeks ago. We got a cream tea, which meant we each got a pot of tea, a scone a piece and our choice of cake. We split the cake and the scones (chocolate cake and sultana scones), but as I’m trying to practice restraint when it comes to baked goods and butter I decided to relinquish my half of the cake, and instead of a scone ordered a crumpet. I’m sure crumpets are just as caloric as scones, but I’d never had one before. When you think of things that are quintessentially British the phrase “tea and crumpets” comes to mind, thus I figured this would add another notch to my cultural exchange belt.

I had always assumed that a crumpet was a sort of tea cake; something sweet and frosted.   They are actually a bit like English muffins, but are made from a sweeter batter. It reminded me of an English muffin made out of pancake batter and served buttered. All in all, it was quite tasty and very filling. I went from being cold, hungry and cranky to warm, full and content; a pleasant progression. The content bit was helped a great deal by the conversation. My tea companion had been at Kings for the preceding semester and she was thus well established and could give me pointers about life at the University. Her tips were helpful, like make sure you wake up in time for the linen exchange, and don’t go into Harrods after playing Ultimate Frisbee in Hyde Park.

We said goodbye at around seven, and she walked back to her Tube stop. I walked to the Grocery store and stocked up on provisions for the week. Unfortunately, they were out of crumpets.   

 
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