Observations

Last week was the 65th anniversary of D-day, which for obvious reasons got some attention in this country. Of course, in Sweden, we have nothing like that to remember. I guess the closest thing we get is celebrating the death of Charles XII, who died fighting the Norwegians in 1718 (which happens to be pretty much the only year in Scandinavian history that I for some reason can remember). I am, however, using 'we' here in a very loose sense, since it has mostly been various 'nationalists' who have claimed the day as their own. Enough about that! But it is also interesting to follow the debates that have been in this country, whether the British should remember and commemorate the wars and their heroes more than they do. Personally, I'm not taking a stand in the debate, but I watched the memorial day service on TV last November, and was very moved. War is, luckily, for me such a foreign thing. (And I thought to myself that I can't even imagine living in a country which is in war - and then I suddenly realize that I do!) But I actually do appreciate all the memorial monuments that can be found across town. Take my bus trips into town, for example: If I take the no. 2 bus towards Marylebone I pass the Australian and the New Zealand War Memorials (for soldiers in the two world wars), the Royal Artillery Memorial, the Machine Gun Corps Memorial, the Animals in War Memorial, as well as the Wellington Arch and Marble Arch (for the Napoleonic wars). And if I'm on the no. 88 bus towards Camden I pass the Cenotaph, the Crimean War Memorial, and (my favourite) the Monument to the Women of World War II. It's quite a number, in other words. But I like them - they are part of the city's character and its history, but hopefully no new ones shall be needed.

Weekend report

So, my parents have now gone back to Sweden. It has been very nice to have them here, but my poor, poor mum has been really ill! She was diagnosed with shingles ('the adult version of chickenpox') in her right eye (!) the day they left the country, but looked quite alright when they turned up late Thursday night. The morning after, however, was a completely different story. The eye had swollen up, and was all of a sudden fighting with her nose for being the center of attention. She could not open the eye at all! Tim was at work (which was probably good, because I would have freaked him out completely!), and there was just no way mum could leave the house. So dad and I had to be touristy on our own, which was fine but unexpected - and of course we also felt incredibly bad for mum, who hardly could get out of bed. Well, dad and I went to the London Movieum by the Royal Festival Hall (which was really, really poor. Don't ever go there!), then lunch at Wagamama (dad and I normally take the opportunity to eat pasta or noodles when mum's not around, since she doesn't eat it) and a walk up the Thames. Tube back from Borough. Dad and I cooked dinner, and forced mum to eat a little.

Saturday morning, and mum was just as bad. Today also with a small swelling under the other eye, as well as lovely red scabs and rashes all over her forehead. She could open her right eye with some serious force, but that was about it. So Tim, dad and I had to go out on our own again. This time the Museum of London in Barbican (very good! Highly recommended!). It was the ideal museum since we are all interested in history. Walked around the exhibitions for a few hours, and then strolled down to St Paul's where we had a very late lunch in a pub, before going back home to entertain mum. I was supposed to have been singing with the choir in its annual spring concert, but decided I rather stayed with mum. Didn't want her to be alone all day. Ordered in food from our local Indians, the wonderful HotStuff.

Sunday and dad's birthday. Tim and I had bought loads of party accessories (see previous post) and an enormous Belgian chocolate cake, and did a Swedish birthday with singing and all. Mum could now open her right eye a bit - and as she didn't want to ruin dad's day/felt slightly stronger/was incredibly bored of our flat, she decided to come with us. We went for the easy option - a cruise on the Thames, from Westminster to Greenwich. It was an amazing trip. I had never done any of the tours before, but thoroughly enjoyed it! The old commentator was also very entertaining (very British humor). Strolled around in Greenwich for a bit (not too easy, since mum had to be supported by one of us at all times - but she had at least brought an enormous pair of sun glasses from the 70's, which covered most of her face) and had a bite to eat. Tim cooked the most amazing birthday dinner: roast pork, English roast potatoes and parsnip, and Yorkshire puddings, asparagus and all the good stuff. I think dad was happy with his birthday, after all.

Today mum had absolutely no energy left, poor thing. Tim, dad and I opted for going to St James's park to feed the squirrels. Ended up in a huge traffic jam - Tamil protesters had occupied Westminster bridge, and no traffic was allowed to pass. So our quick little bus ride turned in to quite an adventure, but was still nice enough since we got to walk along the river from Lambeth bridge up to Westminster. (Still not convinced this will give the Tamils any support though! Most people were very annoyed, and if I had been driving I would have too!) Walked through the park for an hour, and then decided it was wise to take the tube back home.

I have now put my parents on the tube. Mum, who has looked like an advertising board for an anti-violence campaign (we have made so many Mike Tyson jokes - and a few references to Quasimodo and Stevie Wonder as well this weekend), could open her right eye 2/3 now, but was probably pretty happy to get home. I don't blame her! But she has put up a good face all weekend, and I am really proud of her for that. I hope the can come back soon for a better experience...

Dirty

Apparently, London has been voted the dirtiest city in Europe (which nicely adds to it also being the most expensive city)! And partly, I agree. You only have to blow your nose and establish that your snot is black, to know that you are in fact in London. These news come at the same time as Tim's company is making cut backs, and we are seriously wondering whether moving here was a wise decision...

Super Saturday!

Oh, we've had such a nice and relaxing beginning to the weekend

Yesterday, we went out for a few drinks after work with a few of Tim's colleagues. M joined us a bit later, and we went to a Chinese place for some simple (and cheap) food. Went on to a pub, where Tim - who was very tired - left us to talk about flowers and pink things and butterflies and periods and make up and all those other things we girls normally talk about.

Slept in this morning, and then went to Clapham Common (pic from Wikipedia).

Clapham is one of my new discoveries, not far from here - a 20 min walk further south. The common is, well, green and nice. There are some really nice houses around, and loads of trendy restaurants and fancy stores* and (towards Stockwell) the normal chains. We bought ourselves some sweets and drinks, and placed on in the sun in the middle of the Common. Absolutely gorgeous day - 18 degrees and sunny. Tim fell asleep on the grass, and I sat and studied the people around us. Headed back home at around five, and went upstairs, as we had been invited to dinner by our landlords. She had made some really nice slow cooked belly pork with roasted potatoes. Yummy! And then some nice wine on top, and a apple cake to end the meal. Lovely! And now we're about to watch the extended version of Alien vs. Predator...



*Among them one of the best butchers in London. It is very inspirational to look around in the shop (they really have some nice looking meats), but it's not exactly our price class. £30 for a chicken is hardly what I'm willing to spend... And, yes, I'm sure it's all locally produced, and ecological, and the chickens were happy and sang Kumbaya with the farmer - I'm still not paying that for a chicken!

Crime on the tube

No, don't worry. Nothing bad has happened to me (yet). But a few months ago, they (i.e. Transport for London) started a campaign in order to fight knife crime on the tube, i.e. they randomly put up metal detectors on different tube stations. Today was the second time I've seen one in Stockwell. Apparently, the campaign has been successful, because crime related to knives has gone down (by as much as 30%, one of the papers states). But I'm still a bit doubtful about it all. It's absolutely fine that they just have a few metal detectors, and keep moving them around, but not everybody is searched, which is understandable, especially in rush hour traffic. However they target certain groups, which makes sense, but doesn't really improve relations with these groups of individuals. Also, every detector is watched/supervised by 14 coppers! Yes, fourteen! Ok, if they find something suspicious, it might be better to be more than one, or if a whole gang comes in, it's probably good to be a few people. But still!? Isn't 14 a bit of a waste of resources? Couldn't two of those policemen patrol the streets instead, or do something equally important?!

Strange choices

Of course, living in a big city, not everything is beautiful and pretty. But, as with most historic cities (and, I am sure, several modern ones as well), there are areas of the city that are post card pretty/monumental. London is, of course, heavily associated with Houses of Parliament/Big Ben - and rightly so.

And Parliament square is quite amazing to visit. A little further away from the river you find, on one corner, Westminster Abbey (well worth a visit, in my humble opinion):


Then, there's the Middlesex guildhall:

And the Methodist central hall:

All very grand and beautiful buildings. But then, all of a sudden, opposite the Abbey, you find the Queen Elizabeth II conference centre:

What??? Where did that come from??? Which architect thought it was a brilliant idea to put an alien spaceship among all the historical (more or less) buildings that surround it? I realize that mixing styles from different eras always is a tricky job, but come on?! It is one of the worst cases of architectural clashes I have ever seen - and I have to pass it every time I take the bus in to town...

(All photos from wonderful Wikipedia.)