Day 9: The Incredible Hampton Court Palace

Hey, friends!

So, I had my gallbladder removed yesterday and then spent most of today dozing off and taking painkillers, but I'm feeling pretty lucid right now so I wanted to try and write the blog for Day 9.  Day 9 was our last whole day in the U.K., and it was also the day we visited Hampton Court Palace which was universally acclaimed by the whole group as one of the best, if not the best places we visited.  It was, without a doubt, one of the coolest places I've ever been, mostly because of my fascination with the Tudor dynasty.  I'll definitely be visiting it again next time I go to England.

So, for those of you who don't know, Hampton Court Palace is a rather ostentatious estate that Cardinal Wolsey (a favorite of Henry VIII) built with all the money and influence that came along with being BFFs with the king.  When Wolsey eventually fell out of favor and was charged with treason, Henry VIII took over the palace and became the first of many British monarchs to hold court there.  Supposedly it's where he first met Anne Boleyn, but more about the history later.

Hampton Court Palace is about a 30 minute train ride from central London, and super accessible because you don't have to change trains or anything.  That morning we walked to the Temple Tube station and took it to Waterloo, one of the busiest Tube and rail stations in London.  The thing about London stations is that they're always pretty busy but they're terribly efficient.  Or at least they seem that way because absolutely everyone walks like they know exactly where they're going.  Everyone seems to be in a bigger hurry than everyone else, but I guess that's a big city atmosphere for you.

When we got to Waterloo Station, I saw that they had a Lush store which I wanted to visit when we got back, but I ended up forgetting.  You know how much I love Lush.  Trains from Waterloo to Hampton Court Palace run every 30 minutes, so we just waited for the next departing train to show up on the departure board, after which we could immediately proceed to the platform and head out.

After a brief debacle about whether we could use our Oyster cards or whether we actually had to purchase train tickets (Oyster card = yes) we found our train platform and hopped on.  The train was nearly empty.  If we'd gone to Hampton Court Palace during the evening rush hour, I'm sure it would have been the exact opposite.  Every other train I saw coming into Waterloo Station was packed with office workers and commuters.

There were at least half a dozen stops between Waterloo and Hampton Court Palace, but hardly anyone got off or on, and the journey didn't seem to take too long.  Compared to Waterloo, the Hampton Court Palace station is hilariously tiny.  Just two platforms.  It's in the perfect location, though, because the actual palace is just a five minute walk over the bridge that crosses the River Thames.

None of the pictures I took of Hampton Court Palace -- especially inside -- can do it justice.  It's more grand and more exquisite than anything I'd ever seen in my life.  It's enormous, its famous gardens are like something out of Alice in Wonderland, and the interiors are vastly more incredible than anyone, even someone who's much better with words than I am, can describe.  Just walking up the lawn to the front of the palace, you can't quite get a sense for how big and opulent it is.  It's sumptuous and undeniably royal.  Almost every new room you walk into takes your breath away, starting with the Base Court.

So, after they check your tickets, you walk right into the main courtyard, called Base Court, where you can head off towards any number of exhibitions about Henry VIII, his court, and the other monarchs who lived in Hampton Court Palace.  We got there just before 10:00 am, so the place was one of the least crowded sites we visited while abroad.  Also, the fact that it's a 30 minute train ride out of London also seems to discourage a lot of potential visitors who would probably go to Windsor Castle or somewhere better known instead.  It was kind of awesome.  We got to walk through mostly empty hallways and experience the grand rooms without being surrounded by other people.

The first exhibit we saw were the kitchens of Henry VIII's court.  He was a king who liked to live large and entertain a lot of people, so the kitchens were understandably huge.  The audio guides provided at Hampton Court Palace weren't quite as interesting or easy-to-follow as the ones at Westminster Abbey, so after we left the kitchens, I don't think I really used mine very much.  Sarah and I ditched Dad because he was dawdling.  We saw Henry VIII's wine cellar before making it back to Base Court and heading to our next exhibit.

There was a section of the palace dedicated to "the young Henry VIII" where they try to alter the common perception of him as a fat drunkard with a chicken leg hanging out of his mouth who brutalized all his wives for no reason.  Anyone who knows anything about the Henry VIII's life knows that he was more than that, but for those who don't know much about his first marriage or his relationship with Cardinal Wolsey, it's a fascinating mini-tour.  Each room has three chairs: one symbolizing Henry, one for Katherine of Aragon, and one for Cardinal Wolsey, and each room progresses further into Henry's reign with inscriptions on the chairs describing Katherine's many miscarriages, what was happening in the kingdom, and the pressures Henry faced.

After that, we went to perhaps my favorite exhibit of Hampton Court Palace and my favorite of pretty much everything I've ever seen in my life: the apartments of William and Mary.

I started writing this blog several days ago and kept putting it off because I knew I wouldn't be able to describe how amazing the interiors at Hampton Court Palace were, especially this portion of the palace.  I don't know how else to describe it, except as every amazing castle set you've ever seen a movie or TV show about royalty.  It's everything that comes to mind when you think about a place where kings and queens live.  It's bigger, grander, more beautiful, and more breathtaking than anything else I've ever seen.  In fact, nothing else I've ever seen even comes close to it.

You enter the apartments of William and Mary by walking up an incredible stone staircase in a high-ceilinged room where the walls and the ceiling are painted with men and gods and little cherubs floating around.  It's amazing.  Walking into that room almost knocked me on my ass -- as did all the subsequent rooms.  None of the pictures I took can do it justice, nor can anything I say about it.

This is me.  Dumbstruck.

From there, we proceeded into the first in a long series of audience chambers that seemed to go down the length of one whole side of the palace, judging by how all the rooms were connected by one long, long corridor.  There were two or three audience chambers, each designated by who the king would generally receive in there.  The ones closest to the entrance were for a wider variety of supplicants, but the rooms further in, back towards the king's private chambers and his bedrooms were reserved for members of the privy council and I think friends.  So, you could tell how withdrawn the king was just by which chamber he was sitting in.  The rooms were massive, each with a huge, draped chair at the front, obviously for the king.

After the audience chambers, there were a number of royal bedrooms.  There's the official bedroom, the queen's bedroom, the king's private bedroom, the state bedroom, and so on and so forth.  I can't remember which one was the one William and Mary actually slept in, but they all had gorgeous beds with dramatic drapery, and all kinds of finery.  Further back, there was the king's closet (which is basically like his office/man cave,) where his writing desk sits and a collection of his wife's rare china which William took to displaying after Mary died.

Finally, the king's privy.  I think the picture speaks for itself.

There's so much more I could say about how amazing William and Mary's apartments were.  It's so cool to get a glimpse of life at court, where everything was so official and royal and perfectly appointed.  One of my favorite parts of this section was (I think) the queen's gallery, which was just an enormous hall with checkered floors and wood paneling on the wall where a few white Greek statues are displayed.  Sarah and I were the only people in that part of the castle when we looked around, so it was quiet and empty and so beautiful.

So after that, we went to look at Henry VIII's apartments, which is where we caught up with Ann, Teresa, Nancy and -- surprise! -- Dad.  Our travel companions had taken a later train, so they had just arrived, but we were able to go through Henry VIII's section of the castle together which was awesome because Teresa and I are huge Tudor nerds.  We saw this room, which is rumored to be the room where Henry VIII first laid eyes on Anne Boleyn.

We continued through the Tudor portion of the castle and eventually wound up in this awesome, green hallway that was home to most of the alleged hauntings of Henry VIII's fifth wife, Katherine Howard.  He married her when she was like 14 and beheaded her not too long after that because she was having an affair.  Teresa and Ann asked one of the guards about her ghost, and they confirmed that people hear her footsteps in that area all the time.  All you have to do is Google "Katherine Howard ghost" and I'm sure you'll find all sorts of stories about her as well.  I'm such a Tudor geek, and so is Teresa, so this was one of the coolest places we visited in London.

We spent hours at Hampton Court Palace, and that included a very short visit to their extensive gardens.  The gardens are amazing.  They look like something out of Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland.  And there really weren't very many other tourists around, so the views weren't spoiled by annoying other people.  Ugh.  I hate other people.

Because I'm pathetic, I insisted that we wait until the ice cream kiosk opened before we could leave, because I was dying for ice cream with a flake.  I ate it, and it was delicious.

On our way out, we stopped at the main gift shops.  (There were many.)  After that, we decided to find someplace to have lunch before catching the next train back to London.  There was a place right across the street from the palace, but I can't remember what it was called.  It's located right next to the river, and it was nice enough to sit outdoors.  Our table was right at the edge, and so there were all these adorable swans and ducks that kept swimming up to us because we're naughty and were tossing them food.  I had some freaking delicious ribs and a Fuller's London Pride.  It was amazing.

After lunch, we walked back across the bridge to the train station and caught the next train back to London.  I fell asleep on the way home.  Too bad I couldn't have slept at all on the five hour train ride to and from Scotland.  But I guess the week was starting to catch up with us.  Even though Hampton Court Palace was the only planned stop for the day, we were pretty exhausted when we got back to London around three.

Dad and I went back to the flat to rest for a little bit and start packing, since we were going to have to leave at the butt crack of dawn for the airport.  (Come to think of it, it was still dark when we left, so not even the butt crack of dawn.)  Sarah went to meet up with Teresa, Ann, and Nancy to walk to St. James's Park, and when it was time for dinner, Dad and I went back down to the Temple Brew House for food and beer.  We were pretty much obsessed with Temple Brew House.  I met a really cute Irish guy while ordering drinks at the bar, and he was pretty much the first outwardly friendly, chat-with-a-stranger person I met during my entire time in London.  His name was Jamie.  Jamie wins at life.

After dinner and beers, Teresa headed back to her flat and we headed back to ours.  It was our last night in London, and even though I was looking forward to being home again, I knew I was going to want to come back....like immediately.

Day 8: A Scottish Day Trip

Hola, blogoritos!

I've been meaning to get to the next London blog, but I've been a little busy.  What with work and job interviewing and trying to schedule surgery before my 26th birthday when I get ousted from my parents' health insurance and essentially become a charming street urchin from Oliver Twist.  Yeah, it's been a little cray cray.

But anyway, back to day 8 of our British adventure!

Day 8 was going to be a pretty long day, due to the fact that we were going to Edinburgh, Scotland and back (a five hour train ride each way.)  We booked our tour through Golden Tours, which I now realize was pretty pointless.  You pay a buttload of money so they can book your train tickets for you, meet you at Kings Cross in the morning and then send you on your merry way, never to be seen again.  The price of the day tour did include entrance to Edinburgh castle and a bus tour that we never used, but still.  Next time I go, I'll def just book a train ticket on my own like Ann, Teresa, and Nancy did.

We got to Kings Cross at the butt crack of dawn.  The Tube doesn't even run that early, so we booked an Addison Lee to get us to the station.  Addison Lee is a cab company that's only a little more convenient than black cabs because you can book them for a specific time and place, whereas with a black cab, you just have to stand on the curb and hope one comes by.  Oh, and Addison Lee has your credit card information in the phone app, so, like Uber, your fare is automatically paid.  Yay!

At Kings Cross, Sarah and I took advantage of the fact that there was no line at Platform 9 and 3/4s.  When we were at Kings Cross the first day we got to London, they had velvet ropes to organize the line of people waiting to take their picture there, as well as a peppy Asian photographer and a guy that would put a Gryffindor scarf on you and then toss the scarf when they took the picture so it looked like you were running through the wall.  Lame.  At 6:00 in the morning, however, no line, no Asian photographer, and no scarves, so Sarah and I took pictures for each other.  I think they came out just fine.

By the time Teresa, Ann, and Nancy got there, we were meeting with the Golden Tours rando who gave us our packet with the train tickets and strict instructions to make sure we were in time to board our train home that afternoon.  After that, we were on our own.  Like I said, not sure why we paid so much money for that.

Though they booked their own tickets, Teresa and Ann were on the same train.  We all boarded and were leaving the station I think before seven in the morning.  It was a long, long train ride, but there was a little bit of novelty (at least on the way up) so I kind of enjoyed it.  Of course, I didn't sleep though, because I'm Becky and I never nap when it's convenient to nap, like when I'm on a train for five hours.

The closer we got to Scotland, the prettier the scenery got.  I'll admit, a fair bit of the English countryside just looks like farmland that I can see if I drive 20 minutes out of Kansas City in any direction.  But towards the end of the journey, the railway passes right along the eastern coast, and it looks like something straight out of a Brontë novel.  I took a few pictures of the coast, because it was so cloudy and misty out.

And I also took this picture of myself on the train, which I like because you can see my "M" necklace, which makes me feel like Mike was there in spirit.

When we got to Waverley Station in Edinburgh, it took me a few minutes to get my bearings.  Granted, I know where the Royal Mile is in relation to the station, but when you pop out of the station and you're not sure which way is which, it can be a little disorienting at first.

So, we started the climb up from the station to High Street, which involves a lot of stair-climbing.  And after that, a lot of hill-climbing to get to the castle.  No one told me how hilly Edinburgh is.  We didn't stop climbing the whole day, until we walked back to the train station.

We hiked up a narrow alley with a few pubs built into them, and then climbed a little bit more until we reached High Street.  Dad, Sarah, and I stopped for lunch at The Filling Station, which is essentially TGI Friday's, but we were hungry and had just gotten off a train, so we didn't care.  They had fish and chips, which was good enough for Sarah and Dad.

After lunch, we continued up the Royal Mile towards Edinburgh Castle, but our favorite destination of the day (and one of my favorites of the whole entire trip) was first.

Located on the Royal Mile, pretty much right before you get to Edinburgh Castle is The Scotch Whisky Experience, which I'd read about and then researched on Trip Advisor.  If you don't have enough time in Scotland to go to an actual distillery, this is the next best thing.  All the reviews said it was really fun and informative, but most of the people on the street barely seemed to notice it because when we went inside and bought our tickets, the tour group was tiny.  Just us, one other dude, and one other family of three.

So, the first thing you should know about the Scotch Whisky Experience is that all the people who work there are so nice.  They wear these little gold waistcoats and they all seem to know a ton about scotch, but they're not snooty or standoffish like just about everyone in London is.  Our tour guide, Martin, had kind of an Irish accent, which is too bad because the Scottish accent is my absolute favorite, but he was super nice and knowledgeable, so I liked him.

When you start the tour, the first thing they do is load you into a giant rollercoaster cart that's shaped like a whisky barrel.  The cart then starts rumbling down a track like a theme park ride, and you proceed through a number of darkened rooms where a crazy, ghost hologram tells you all about how scotch whisky is made.  I have to say, I was so tickled by the whole thing, and I was laughing so hard, I can't remember a darn thing the hologram said.  I only remember that as we rode from room to room, Sarah and I would look for him, and when he popped up to continue his lesson, we'd laugh like, "Oh, there he is!"

I think the hologram was supposed to be the ghost of...the guy who invented scotch?  I honestly don't remember, but he was kooky and he made the whole ride totally hilarious.  At the end, he mentioned something about the angels' share (the whisky in the barrel that evaporates) and then he goes, "I'm off to join the angels myself!"  And by that time, I was dying of laughter, like, "Wait a second, does he die at the end?"  And the employee who helped us out of the barrel was like, "I think he's supposed to be dead the whole time."  It was so funny.  I couldn't stop laughing.

We were then shown into the tasting room, where we waited for the other members of the tour to complete the barrel ride.  There are several long tables in the tasting room, with color coordinated circles in front of each seat, and an empty Glencairn glass.  While we waited for everyone else to arrive, the ghost hologram from the ride kept appearing on the screen at the front of the room, which only made me start laughing again.  Then, when everyone had taken their seats in the tasting room, Martin came in and started a little video presentation where he told us about the four main kinds of scotch single malt whisky: Highlands, Lowlands, Speyside, and Islay.  At each tasting station, we had a scratch and sniff card with the four colors for the four types of whisky, and we learned about what smells and tastes each different type tends to have.  I thought I kept the scratch and sniff card, but I couldn't find it just now.  Bummer.

After that, you're supposed to push your glass onto the colored circle that matches the scotch you want to try: Highlands, Lowlands, Speyside, or Islay.  You can pay for more expensive tour tickets if you want more tastes of scotch, but we each got one (and I'm glad I did because I was pretty tingly by the time we left the tour.)

I chose Highlands, Sarah chose Lowlands, Dad chose Speyside, and none of us chose Islay because that one smells the strongest and smokiest.  And I can barely handle scotch as it is.  Martin poured everyone's scotch of choice and then he led us into the next room, where they house the largest scotch whisky collection in the world.

Guys, I wish I could adequately describe how cool the scotch room is.  Even the pictures I took don't do it justice.  I guess if you remember the hall of prophecies scene from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, where there's all those thousands of glowing glass globes -- do you remember what I'm talking about?  It's essentially that but with glowing bottles of scotch.  Rows and rows, shelves and shelves, so much scotch.  Old bottles, new bottles, rare bottles, limited editions, special releases, bottles in every shape, size, and color.  The room is so dimly lit, and it makes the shelves of scotch glow.  It's really really cool.  None of the bottles in the collection have ever been opened, and they won't even tell you how much the collection is worth.

We all gathered around a table in the scotch room and Martin told us how to taste our scotch.  You swirl it around the glass to look for the legs, you stick your nose inside the glass and smell (with your mouth open) and then finally you taste.

I'm not the biggest scotch fan.  I mean, I enjoy it every once in a while, in small doses.  But I know enough about my own scotch preferences to know that the Highlands scotch I tried (I'm an idiot.  I don't remember who made it) was really good.  Dad and Sarah and I exchanged tastes of one another's scotches and meandered around the scotch room, drinking at our leisure and listening to Martin answer more questions about scotch.  It was so much fun.

At the end of the tour, we all got to keep our Glencairn glasses, and then we were shown into the bar where we could order more scotches to taste if we wanted to.  We passed through the gift shop on our way out where they have a ton of expensive scotch to buy.  Sarah got us each matching keychains that have little scotch bottle charms and Glencairn glasses on them.  And thus ended the Scotch Whisky Experience.  If you're ever in Edinburgh, make sure you go.  I'm absolutely going again next time I'm there.

We headed up to Edinburgh Castle after that, but I was kind of tired (and kind of buzzed) so I really just went inside to peek at the views before heading out and hitting the gift shop again.  I bought an awesome Celtic ring, but of course I lost it before we even boarded the train back to London.  Boo.  But on the way out of the castle, I did get an ice cream cone with a flake.

Sarah headed down to the bottom of the Royal Mile to meet up with Teresa and Ann who were at the Holyrood Palace.  Dad and I elected for a leisurely stroll back down High Street, where we saw all kinds of crowds, a guy dressed up like Braveheart, and a bagpiper in a kilt.  We stopped at a few souvenir shops where I got a tartan collar for Ace, a lambswool scarf for Mom, and Dad got a Harris Tweed hat that he's always wanted.  We took in some more of High Street and looked at the buskers and the crowds, and St. Gile's Cathedral...  It really is a cool place.

When it was time, we walked back down the super steep street to Waverly Station and got some food to eat before we boarded our train.  It was a long ride back to London and it was pretty darn late when we got back.  Outside Kings Cross, we hailed a black cab and rode back to the flat.

Thanks for reading, everyone.  I'll see you back here for day 9 of our London Trip, which includes perhaps the coolest place I've ever been.

Day 7: History Is Weird

Hey, guys! Ready to hear about day seven in London? Well, here we go.

We started off day seven by paying a visit to one of the most famous historical locations in the world: the Tower of London. It's home to so many stories, and so much history, (mostly the gory stuff) and it's actually amazing to me that the palace is still standing, given that it was built before the year 1100, if I remember correctly.

I've said it before and I'll say it again. Our apartment was in such an amazing location. A quick walk to the Temple Tube station and like two stops later, we were there. I am definitely staying at that same flat next time, if possible. (It'll be a little difficult to afford if I don't have one or two travel companions.)

We got to the Tower or London like 15 minutes before it opened, which was my plan, since I know it's a very busy attraction. There was already a line at the gates, but the line to purchase tickets was even longer. I'm so glad I took care of all the ticket-buying ahead of time.

Since we got inside as soon as they opened, we headed straight to see the Crown Jewels, as was recommended by the people checking tickets. I'm sure it's the most popular part of the whole site, so it surely has the longest lines. Of course, since we went there immediately, there was barely any line to speak of. And the jewels were amazing. You're not allowed to take pictures in there, and there are moving walkways that take you past the jewels, I guess because people stopping to gawk would really hold up the line. I wish I could tell you in detail about everything we saw, but there was an awful lot of it and I didn't read too many of the plaques as I was being whisked by. We saw all sorts of priceless crowns and coronation regalia. There were golden plates and scepters, diamonds as big as my eyeball (and bigger) and all kinds of jeweled swords and whatnot. 

Once outside the jewel house, I had my first taste of what would immediately become my favorite UK delicacy: ice cream with a flake. 

I know what you're thinking to yourself. "What the hell is a flake?"  Well, it's a fairly common ice cream topping over there, but you can't find it here in the States, unless you order it online -- which I am planning to do once the weather cools down and I don't have to worry about it melting. Flake is a candy bar by Cadbury which is made from all the run-off chocolate that drips off their machines. It collects and folds in on itself and then hardens into a log of flakey, crumbly chocolate that they stick into your ice cream cone and let you devour. It's absolutely amazing. And for some reason, I was always craving ice cream when we were in London. (Real talk, I don't even like ice cream that much, but if you put a flake in it, I'm obsessed.)

As I ate my ice cream, we explored some of the other amazing historical sites, like the Traitors Gate, where people who were under arrest (like Anne Boleyn) would be rowed through when they first arrived at the Tower. Most people who entered through the Traitors Gate never got out of the Tower again. We also saw the eponymous tower where the princes in the tower were held in captivity (and probably killed) to keep them from laying claim to the throne. 

After visiting the gift shop (duh) we left the Tower in plenty of time to get to our next destination: the Golden Tours visitor center at Victoria Station. This time we knew how to get there. Hop on the Tube, no line changes, and we were there. We grabbed some sandwiches from my one true love, Pret a Manger and then ate before lining up for our trip: an afternoon excursion to Stonehenge. 

I would be doing you a disservice if I didn't tell you about our driver/tour guide for the afternoon, Benson. On the day trip to Warwick Castle and Stratford, we had a tour guide AND a driver, but on this tour, it was just Benson. He was a native of Ghana, with a very thick, sometimes hard-to-understand accent, but he was also part comedian, because he was silly and cracking jokes practically the whole time. Sarah hated him because I guess she found him rather over-the-top and grating, but I thought he was the best. He told us interesting little tidbits and quizzed us on our way out of London. En route to Stonehenge, he also drove us by a gorgeous view of Windsor Castle, which I definitely want to visit next time I'm in the UK. 

Stonehenge is weird. I know you've probably seen pictures of it, but nothing compares to how bizarre it is when you're riding through the fairly mundane British countryside and then all of a sudden it's there, looming on the hilltop like a weird, unexplained...oddity.

Of course,we were not the only tour group arriving at Stonehenge in the late afternoon. As luck would have it, we got there at the same time as Ann and Teresa, who had been on an all day trip to Bath, Windsor Castle and Stonehenge. We linked up with them as soon as possible, after taking the shuttle bus from the visitors center to the stones, themselves. 

I can't even tell you how eerie it is, walking up to those stones, sitting there in the middle of nowhere, bold as brass. It's just....weird. Who put them there? What do they mean? Nobody fucking knows. How strange is that? They're really astonishing to see, even though they don't let you get very close to them.  They're just huge and imposing, somehow. It's like you can feel their significance from the moment you lay eyes on them. I don't know how else to explain it. It's just...it's really something to be there in person. 

After we walked around the stones and a nice stranger took our picture for us, we rode the shuttle back to the visitors center and looked at the gift shop. For once in my life, I didn't buy anything, except some wine and snacks at the little food area. We drank and nibbled but then Ann and Teresa's tour group was leaving. Shortly after that, our group left too. 

I don't know if this was in line with Golden Tour's policies, but Benson went around the bus and asked where everyone would like to be dropped off back in London. We chose the official stop at Gloucester Road, because I don't think we could have handled an extra hour of Benson navigating the narrow streets of London and slowly dropping off everyone at their hotels. We got off at Gloucester Road and hailed a black cab back to our place. It was probably the longest cab ride we took during our trip, but how can you get tired of sitting in the back seat and watching London go by?  (Answer: you can't.)

After a nice drive home, we hiked up the three flights of stairs to our flat and promptly went to bed, exhausted, as always.

thanks for reading, guys. I'll see you for Day 8, the penultimate day of our trip. Stay tuned until the last day to hear my awards for the bests and worsts!

How to mark your deceased brother's birthday.

On this day, 27 years ago, my mother gave birth to her first and only son.

I don't know what to say about that except that my parents are really good people.  They pay their taxes, they work hard, do the right thing, and they love their family and friends...  They didn't deserve to have to bury their only son.  Ever.  Much less before his 30th birthday.  Before he had the chance to get married, have kids, buy a house, or really live life and be happy.

Maybe this is a selfish thing to say, but I'm going to say it anyway.  I know depression isn't the kind of thing that can be understood unless you've experienced it yourself, but still, don't ever do this to your family, no matter how down you are.  Suicide leaves so many unanswered questions and bridges that can never be mended.  And the people who love you are never able to "move on."  They can move forward, but you're always going to be in this little compartment in their heart that weighs them down, no matter where they go.

So, anyway, keep me and my family in your thoughts today.  Mike should be turning 27 right now.  And I can barely organize any sort of coherent thought on the matter, which is why I'm not quite as verbose as I usually am.

Talk to you guys soon.  I'll be back shortly with the next installment of my London recap blogs.

Day 6: Sunday In London

Day 6:

Since I'd never been to London before this trip, I had no idea that spending Sunday in London would prove to be such a pain in the ass.  You see, there's something fundamentally wrong with London Sundays and that is: everything is closed....except the few things that are open, which are crammed to bursting with more people than you've ever seen in your life.

And for that reason, I'm glad we only spent one Sunday in London.  I don't think I could have handled another, since I hate crowds and I hate being inconvenienced.  Yuck.

Our one Sunday in London started with a very optimistic Becky.  As we walked from our flat to the Temple Tube station, I was absolutely loving the empty sidewalks and the absence of massive hordes of people streaming out of the Tube station's only entrance.  At some point, I verbally wondered where the hell everybody was and then came to my senses and remembered that it was Sunday.  At first, I loved London on Sunday.  No teeming crowds of young professionals heading to work, no jam-packed sidewalks, nobody on the Underground platform, hardly anyone on the train.  It was nice.

I'd soon come to hate that.

One of the few things that's open on Sunday is Shakespeare's Globe Theater, so that was our first stop of the day.

I was really looking forward to seeing the Globe.  As a theater kid in high school and an English major in college, I'd seen countless Shakespearean productions, read more plays than I could count, and written several dozen research papers on various works of the bard.  So, yeah, you can say I'm a bit of a Shakespeare nerd, and after enjoying Stratford-upon-Avon, I was really looking forward to seeing the Globe.

We took the Tube to Blackfriars and then we were able to walk across Millennium Bridge to the Globe, which is right on the other side.  Of course, we stopped to take more pictures.  Since it was Sunday morning, Millennium Bridge was pretty deserted and we  had some very pretty, sparkly views of the Thames and the Shard and Tower Bridge.  I really enjoyed it.  I like London best when it's quiet, I discovered.  That's why I'm already planning my next trip to London for winter.  I want to see it during the low season.

Anyway, right at the end of Millennium Bridge was Shakespeare's Globe, a recreation of the famous theater which burned down some time ago.  We bought our tickets for the tour, which runs every half hour, and we were right in time to start the next one.  A small group of maybe 30 other Shakespeare nerds accompanied us and our guide, a young, black-haired woman named Fi, who was really enthusiastic and knowledgeable on every subject.  I just adored her.

The tour first went outside where we looked at the exterior of the Globe and learned about when it was built, how it burned down, how it was rebuilt, and all the interesting tidbits like how thatched roofing was banned after the fire in 1613, and so they had to get special government permission to rebuild the Globe exactly how it was before the fire.  Outside on the patio, all the paving stones had names engraved in them, referring to donors who contributed to the new Globe, since it does not receive any funding from the government.  Among the stones was one belonging to Alfred Hitchcock and his wife.  Pretty cool.

After that, we were led inside the Globe and up the stairs to the middle gallery: the second level and roughly in the center, looking directly at the stage.  It was pretty incredible.  There were crew members raising flats and working on the set because there was a scheduled performance for 1:00 that day (this was at 10:00am.)  So while they worked, Fi talked.  She told us about the special compartments and hidden trap doors on the stage, and how back in Shakespeare's day, they didn't have too many elaborate sets and thus the pillars and artwork on the stage would have to transform to suit the play via the audiences' and the actors' imaginations.  If the scene called for a tree, then pillar was a tree.  If a scene called for a ghostly apparition, then an actor up in the rafters would speak his lines from above.  And so on, and so forth.

And of course, the most important question.  Since the Globe is an open-air theater, what happened if it rained?

"You'd get wet," our tour guide promptly responded.

Plays are obviously held at the Globe all the time, and they still abide by the traditions of Shakespeare's day by selling dirt cheap tickets to the "groundlings," aka people who stand in front of the stage and watch the show from down there.  You can't beat the prices, apparently, as long as you don't mind standing.  Even the prime seats aren't that expensive, according to Fi.  I'd love to go see a show there next time I'm in town.

After the tour, we checked out the gift shop, of course, and then wandered through Southwark to a slightly busier street where we were able to hail a cab.  We asked the driver to take us to our next stop, the British Museum.

I was really excited for the British Museum, but I probably should have planned a little more carefully when we were going to see it.  It's free, which already makes it a huge draw for tourists as well as locals who don't have anything better to do with their kids on a Sunday.  And, of course, it was a Sunday, which meant that it was pretty goddamn packed.  You pretty much have to plan on dealing with hordes of people wherever you go, but the British Museum was on a whole different level.

Let me start by saying that it's a gorgeous building, inside and out.  From the dramatic, high-ceilinged stairwells to the blinding white Great Court at the center of it all, it's a breathtaking place.  And the items curated there are beyond counting, so it's simply enormous.  There are floors and floors of ancient artifacts, huge galleries with more priceless things than you could ever imagine.  One single section of the British Museum would probably make up the entirety of any other museum.  That's how much stuff there is.

Since this was a Sunday, there were thick crowds everywhere, almost as soon as you stepped in the door.  The crowds were the most dense at the most popular exhibits, of course, but even moving from room to room proved difficult because -- I'm honestly not exaggerating, here -- you couldn't move without encountering someone.  The crowds were ridiculous.  Absolutely ridiculous.  I barely got a glimpse of the Rosetta Stone over the shoulders of the 15 rows of people in front of me, taking pictures on their tablets.  And I can't even remember whether or not I saw any mummies because all you do when you step into the mummy room is get bumped and jostled and squeezed and breathed on.

Yeah, I hate crowds.  Hate them.

So, I didn't last very long in the British Museum.  Maybe next time I go to London, I'll go on a weekday, or in the evening or something.  The stuff we did see was extremely awesome.  Ancient Greek marbles from the Parthenon, 3,000 year old Egyptian busts.  It's kind of mind blowing to think about.  And, of course, I'm glad we went.

We sat outside British Museum in the equally busy courtyard and ate some ice cream while deciding what our next move would be.  The itinerary said quite clearly that we were to go to Piccadilly Circus, but we were also running several hours ahead of schedule due to the fact that we hadn't stayed more than an hour at the museum and we hadn't had a long, sit-down lunch like I'd planned on.  (Ann and Teresa were still inside, exploring the museum, so obviously not ready to come out and have lunch.)

After consulting with them, the three of us decided to continue on to Piccadilly Circus.  (Also a place I probably shouldn't have gone on a Sunday!)  We walked to the Holborn Tube station and got the Tube to Piccadilly Circus.  When we arrived, it was actually pretty cool.  As soon as you come up the steps from the station, you see the big, screens on the buildings across the street.  It's like you just entered the British version of Times Square.  The crowds are all bustling, the shops are open, there's cars and noise everywhere...  It's totally not my scene, but I couldn't go to London and not go.

I'm not one for shopping, but we had experience Piccadilly Circus by doing a little bit of it.  Not far from the station, we saw a store called Cool Britannia, which I could have spent hours inside, just poking around at all the cheesy souvenirs and sweatshirts that say London and marijuana pipes with the Union Jack on them and picture frames and commemorative packages of tea and masks of the Prince Charles and teddy bears dressed up like palace guards.  I was in heaven.  I bought two picture frames, a Princess Charlotte mug for a friend, and a few more things I can't remember.  No matter how much I bought, you can believe that I was exercising at least some restraint.

After that, we wandered down Regent Street, trying to find somewhere for lunch.  We turned down a much quieter street and found a pub with a name I can't remember.  It was a pub with a comedy club in the basement.  That's all I can remember.  We ate lunch and drank beer while watching a U.S. Open match on TV.  After that, I was kind of tired but Sarah wanted to do some more shopping.  So, I took the keys to the flat to head back on my own and take a little nap while Sarah and Dad hung out a little while longer.

I actually kind of enjoyed taking the Tube back to the flat by myself.  Up until then, I hadn't actually gone anywhere by myself in London (except for walking to the restaurant the night before) and I had to do it at least one.  I'm a "broody" person, and broody people like to do things alone once in a while, so they can just bask in their aloneness and just be.  I liked that.  At least for a little while.  I am definitely glad my family came with me to London, let's be clear.

Back at the flat, I showered and probably fell asleep until Dad and Sarah came home.  Then, we started tossing around ideas for dinner.

Here's the part where I remind you that pretty much everything is closed on Sundays.  I was completely unfamiliar with this concept.  Yeah, around here, places open an hour or two late on Sunday, but at least they still open.  In London, finding a place that was open for dinner on a Sunday night was pretty much the most frustrating thing we'd ever done.  There was a Thai place a few doors down that we wanted to try, but guess what, they're closed on Sundays.  The wine bar and restaurant around the corner?  Closed.  How about Temple Brew House, the neat little brewery/pub/restaurant like fifteen steps from our front door?  I thought they were closed too, but Sarah looked it up and saw that they were open.

Teresa came over to meet us for dinner.  Ann and Nancy must have been tired, or something.  I can't remember.  We went down to Temple Brew House.  I say "down" because you enter the place at street level and then go down a set of wooden steps to the pub area, which actually looks more like a barn than a pub.  I'm not saying it's dirty or smelly, but it's got a very rustic appearance, that I think is kind of awesome.  Exposed concrete beams, unfinished wood floor, mismatched furniture, sort of dingy lighting.  It's very cool.  I wouldn't call it a dive, but it kind of seems like a place that wants to look like a dive.

(I didn't take this picture, but this is Temple Brew House.)

Since it was Sunday night, it wasn't very busy at all, so the bartender (a cute guy with a Cockney accent) talked to us about the beers they brewed themselves and let us try samples when we told him about our preferences.  He was cool.  After we settled on some beers, we sat down and ate.  It was good bar food and good beer, but I really really liked Temple Brew House for the atmosphere and the people.  We ended up going there one more time before the end of our trip and I had a similarly great experience.  I'll definitely be back next time I go to London.

And that's the end of Day 6!  Thanks for reading, guys.  I'll see you soon for Day 7.  Can't believe we're already getting to the end of the trip!

Day 5: Long Walks and Photo Opps

Day 5:

So, for Saturday in London, I had planned to take care of a couple of photo opps that we'd wanted to do whilst in town, and also a trip to a destination that might seem a little bit out of the ordinary, but that I was dying to see.

When we got up in the morning, we walked down to the Temple Tube station and took the train up to Camden, a trendy area in north London.  One of my favorite shows, Spaced, with Simon Pegg, takes place in Camden.  Now that I think about it, I really should have visited the Spaced house while we were there.  I'll definitely have to do it next time.

We went to north London to visit Highgate Cemetery, which I had been dying to see because I'm a writer who loves gloomy, morbid things.  But first, we wandered from the Tube station until we found a place for breakfast.  It was a cheap little dump that probably isn't used to seeing any tourists, but we had a yummy breakfast there, and some amazing coffee.  Seriously.  The coffee I had there was my favorite coffee I had the entire trip, and that's saying something because all the coffee was good.

Even the closest Tube station is a bit of a hike to Highgate Cemetery, and uphill too.  So, we hailed a black cab and asked the driver to take us there.

It was a cloudy, chilly, quiet morning, and therefore the perfect time to visit any cemetery, let alone a cemetery like Highgate which looks like it came straight out of an Edgar Allan Poe poem.  It was -- pardon the expression -- silent as a tomb, up there, and absolutely beautiful.  As soon as we bought our four pound tickets to get into the cemetery, I knew I was going to love it.  It was dreary and old and macabre and perfect.

Apparently the west section of Highgate Cemetery is where all the extra spectacular architecture is, but it's only accessible by scheduled, guided tour.  The east side of the cemetery, where we went, is open for you to just walk around and explore.  And that's what we did.

It was so cool, way cooler than even I'd thought it would be, and I'm the one who likes cemeteries.  The trees are overgrown, the paths are crooked, there are old graves, new graves, famous graves, obscure graves, graves dating back hundreds of years, graves as recent as five years ago...  Statues of angels, abstract artwork, tombs upon tombs stacked closed together on muddy hills, wilting flowers, damp leaves, faded epitaphs, and forgotten memorials.  It was absolutely amazing.

So, we walked a circle around the cemetery while I got all my creepy enjoyment from looking around at the graves.  Afterwards, we got directions from the girl working the ticket booth who told us the way to get back to the Archway Tube station.  We took the Tube back into central London, Euston Square, to be exact.  The Tube station there is just like half a block away from 221B Baker Street, where they film the Sherlock with Benedict Cumberbatch.  One of our favorite shows.

Like I said, it was a really short walk from the Tube station to the address, which isn't the real 221B Baker Street.  It's on a street called Gower Street, but who cares?  The black door was there, and the Speedy's cafe right next door which anyone who's ever seen Sherlock is familiar with.  Dad and I were geeking out, of course.  It was just so cool.  There were a few other nerds hanging around taking pictures, but not anything like the hordes of nerds we'd soon see at Abbey Road.  We took our pictures and then moved away to let the other nerds do the same.  It was pretty freaking awesome.

Back on Euston Road, we hailed another black cab and asked the driver to take us to the Abbey Road crossing, our next stop.  According to my itinerary, we had planned on just taking the Tube there, but it involved like two line changes, which was more hassle than I wanted to deal with, so we just got a cab.

Our driver, like most of the black cab drivers we got in London, was super knowledgeable and had tons of information.  On the way, he took us by the London Zoo and Paul McCartney's house.  When we got to Abbey Road, we saw the famous crossing and the crowds of people lining up at the curb like lemmings to wait for a break in the traffic so they could take their wide strides across the street and stop, mid-step to pose for whichever friend was taking their picture, or for the Abbey Road webcam which is always recording.

I'm not a massive Beatles fan.  I mean, I like them as much as any other person, which is to say that I think they're awesome, but really I just thought it was kind of cool to see the Abbey Road.  Like I said, there were a few groups of other people there, lining up and waiting for their perfect shot.  The Abbey Road crosswalk is something called a zebra crossing which means that oncoming traffic must stop for pedestrians attempting to cross, but every driver on the road knows what's going on there, and so they're not always willing to stop for tourists who are going to take their sweet time posing in the middle of the street and waiting for their friend to fumble with the camera and take a dozen pictures.  They'll stop, but it's clear they don't like it, and they'll honk when they think you've had your turn.

Dad and Sarah lined up to take their Abbey Road shot, after informing our friends on Facebook that we were there and encouraging them to check out the Abbey Road live feed.  My cousin David ended up catching us and taking a few screenshots, which is totally cool.

I think Dad and Sarah crossed the road twice before they were satisfied that I'd gotten pictures from a variety of angles and distances.  Then we took a peek at the actual Abbey Road studios, which is hilariously ignored in place of the crosswalk.  They have a wall outside the studio where people graffiti and write their names and leave messages about how important the Beatles are to them.  I asked my sister for a pen so I could write Micah Rules, which won't make sense to you unless you went to high school with me  Just know that it's a very important, longstanding tradition.  I couldn't go to Abbey Road and not write it on the wall.

After that, we took a short walk to the St. John's Wood Tube station and got the Tube back to Temple.

I think the early mornings and lots of activities were kind of catching up to me, so I was pretty excited to head back to the flat and spend a few hours just relaxing.  I think we all napped for a little while, and then eventually we started texting with Teresa and Ann to figure out what we wanted to do for dinner and where we wanted to meet.  I had had some stomach issues the night before and was feeling a little under the weather, so when I was woken from my nap to discuss dinner plans, I didn't really care much.  Everyone arranged to meet at an Italian place that was less than a 10 minute walk from our flat, and I told them I'd need a few minutes to get my shit together and that I'd meet them there.

So, I freshened up and started the walk to Bella Italia.  I guess I hadn't realized how close our flat was to the West End theater district, but I quickly noticed.  It was Saturday night, so all the restaurants and bars were hopping with the pre-show rush.  Excited theater-goers were everywhere.  The whole area had a very "Broadway" feel.  It was very cool.  I passed the theater where The Lion King was playing, although I can't remember the name of the place.

I met my family and friends at Bella Italia where they had already been seated.  We ordered some wine and then ordered some food while we talked about the cool things we'd seen that day.  If I remember correctly, Ann and Teresa had taken a Golden Tour that day to Canterbury, Leeds Castle, and the cliffs of Dover, so we had to fill each other in.

After dinner, we walked back to the flat to turn in for the night, and that wraps up Day 5!

As always, thanks for reading, guys!  Stay tuned for the next update: Day 6 -- Sunday in London.