Let's hear it for National Rail Services!

We had a bit of merrie olde England visit us at home in Texas the other day.

When Henry visited Norwich on a family history quest in November, the train he took was delayed on the way there, and he was told to make a request at the station for a partial refund of his ticket. (His experience at the station actually led to more connections with his family history in Norwich, as you can see by reading the blog entry linked above.) And, good to their word, we got the pictured check for £12 in the mail, a few days after getting a very polite (of course!) letter telling us to expect the check and apologizing for the inconvenience of the delayed train.

I loved the trips I took on National Rail while I was in the UK (see the "trains" label at the right). My trains were all on time, it was easy to know when to get off (a major concern of Americans like me unused to public transport), staff was always helpful at the ticket windows and on the coaches, and the accommodations were comfortable and well-equipped—you can't get better than wifi on the train!

And it seems they aren't just nice when you're there in front of them, but even after you're all the way across the ocean. Now, we just have to figure out how to get a check made out in pounds into our bank account!

Favorite Fotos: London panoramas

This will be my last post on this blog, for a while at least. I feel like I need to let my London experience percolate a bit before I start on the big project I've always planned for these photos—an addition to my website similar to those I've constructed for some of our previous trips (although it will be much larger).

I've found, though, that I can't bear the thought of not blogging, and so I've started a new blog that I'll tell you more about at the end of this post.

But for now, I thought it would be a fitting finale to the Favorite Fotos (not to mention alliterative!) to display some of my favorite panoramic shots of London, starting with this one from the top (or as close as you can get) of St. Paul's:


You're looking back upstream from here, and can get a good idea of how twisty the Thames is, since you know that the London Eye and the Victoria Tower of the Houses of Parliament are on the bank, and yet don't look like it in this shot.

Looking another direction from the top of St. Paul's shows how very urban London is—buildings, buildings, buildings, as far as the eye can see, with the BT tower standing out as it often does.


Here's another church-top shot, this time from Westminster Cathedral. It's not as tall as St. Paul's, but certainly offers a good view (for a fraction of the price, by the way) of many London landmarks. How many of these can you spot? Victoria Tower, London Eye, St. Paul's, Westminster Abbey, Canary Wharf....


It's pretty amazing to realize that you can see the Eye from so many places around London. Here's a scene that's not too surprising, since you're just a ways upstream from Lambeth Bridge...


.... but here it is peeping over some government buildings visible at the other end of the lake in St. James' Park, which makes for something of an unexpected vista:


London being as flat as it is, you can't really get panoramic views without going up in buildings like St. Paul's and the Cathedral, the only exception I know of being the hilltop in Hampstead Heath Park. Which gives you a different angle altogether, as you can see here:


I decided not to venture further from London than this next photo, rather than include panoramas from my trips to Scotland, Wales, Italy and Germany. But Greenwich is really part of London, and the buildings on the other side of the river certainly are. The closer, older structures are part of the Naval College at Greenwich, and the snazzy new high-rises across the river are Canary Wharf, an obviously booming area (note the large number of construction cranes). The picture was taken from the top of the Naval Observatory hill, where Greenwich Mean Time is recorded—otherwise known as the center of the universe!


And here's a fitting final shot, sunset from the Millennium Footbridge that connects St. Paul's with the Tate Modern and points south. You see part of the Eye from here, too!


So I'm saying good-bye to London posts for a while, but do hope to get to work on my big web project before too much of 2009 is behind us. And I might, from time to time as something reminds me of my time in London and gives me an idea for a post, add to this blog.

In the meantime, though, take a look at my new blog, which I'm calling "Hometown Tourist." [Note that the url is kathyamen.blogspot.com, since hometowntourist was taken as a blogspot label; but I really like the title and didn't want to have to change it.] It will mostly feature scenes of South Texas, but I do have plans for trips to New York City, Tampa, Florida, and Colorado in the works for later in the year, so reflections and photos from other locales I happen to visit will spice things up a bit.

Cheerio! and thanks for reading!

Favorite Fotos: finishing up the signs

Just a few more miscellaneous interesting sign photos in the folder, including the one at the right, taken, I believe, near the Tower. I did see a few similar receptacles in other locales, but not as many as I'd put up if I were in charge of city streets. One of my biggest pet peeves is discarded gum on the sidewalk. Tossed-away butts are bad, too, but at least they don't stick to your shoes.

Moving on to another, unrelated (I said this collection was miscellaneous) sign seen near a pond at Hampstead Heath. There are so many interesting things about this notice—men only? why? are they the only people crazy enough to go swimming (in the winter) in water that's untreated, opaque and cold? (characteristics which apparently have their own graphic symbol) how, exactly does one properly go about summoning a lifeguard in case of an emergency?


The sign on the left was posted inside the ladies' loo at Westminster Cathedral. The toilets are located in the Cathedral Kitchen, which is a cafe, not an actual kitchen.

It expresses the fervent hopes of users of public toilets everywhere, doesn't it? And, for the most part, the public loos in the UK, whose praises I'm sure I've sung on earlier occasions in the blog, were left in a very fit state. Hardly, hardly ever out of paper, and usually with both warm water and soap in abundance. What a wonderful civilization, that can provide such facilities!

I have nothing but compliments for Londoners and British people in general, based on my encounters. And though, because of the spelling, I feel this isn't exactly what's meant by the sign below (from what I could gather on the internet, I think it has something to do with alternative medicine), I still thought the wording was very apt:


The sign below I had to snap, given the large numbers of engineers I have as friends and relatives. And I know how easily distractable they are! The door leads to one of the restoration hangars at the Imperial War Museum in Duxford.


Now, it seems that the logic of this post, not much to start with, is really falling apart, so I'll close with this sign from a street in Oxford.

It happens that I am finding less logic for this entire blog, as well. I plan to post a finale collection of views of London sometime this week, then at least temporarily sign off Bridges to London. I've definitely gotten the blogging bug, though, and will let my countless (?!) loyal readers know when my new blog is ready for prime time, hopefully also later this week.

Favorite Fotos: Getting around

More photos from my signs collection, plus a few more, to showcase different ways of getting around (or not) in the UK. There are many reasons I would never want to drive a car in London (crazy drivers, crazy bikers, crazy pedestrians, etc.) but the forest of signs on every corner would be a major one. On the right is a corner near the classroom building, where there's a major concentration of foreign embassies—hence the reference to diplomatic parking.

Parking in general is a major headache, I'm sure, for anyone in London with a vehicle. If you live in Kensington, you might be greeted with another diplomatic notice like the one on the left, and wonder, well, where am I supposed to park, then?! (Click on the graphic to see a larger version.)

Then there's the danger of "clamping," which I assume means that axle-locking hardware that catches some cars on our campus here occasionally....


At least most of the time in London the streets are wide enough for two cars (although a few little "closes" and "mews" and "walks" look pretty tight). In Scotland, when you get off the "A" road near Loch Ness, and you meet an oncoming car, you just have to hope that one of these signs isn't far away:



Fortunately, in London at least, you have other ways of getting around. Although I didn't sample the equestrian method, they do take that into account, at least at some intersections (the sign on the right is at the busy Wellington Arch roundabout). And there's always walking, and to help you with this at particularly busy intersections they have subways (not to be confused with the underground, which is called the subway in New York)—handy under-street walkways. Although, I might think twice about using the one referred to in the sign on the left....

And of course there's the tube and the wonderful bus system, the transportation methods of choice for almost all of my journeys. They can take you to amazing places, like Druid Street, near the Tower Bridge Road south of the Thames.

I can tell you quite a bit about London transport from this photo alone. It's a stop where you don't have to hail the bus (because of the white background behind the bus roundel; if the background is red the sign will also say "request stop" and you need to make eye contact with the approaching bus driver to let him/her know you want to get on). If it was 4 in the morning, you could still get a bus here (the number 188) and during the day you can also catch the 42 and the 78 (and I could consult my handy central London bus map and see exactly where these routes would take me, but even without that I'd know I could either head toward the Surrey Quays or Aldgate). Once you get the hang of it, it's an unparalleled transport system that saves you from having to drive in the crazy, crazy traffic. (Hal wrote this nice piece with more practical info on London buses.)

If you see a number 9 or number 15 (there might be a few other routes, too, but I remember these) on your bus stop, you might get to ride in one of the few remaining old style double deckers like this one:


But most of the buses you see are newer models, although most are still double-deckers, unlike this one, touting its new hybrid engine:

Favorite Fotos: Multiculturalism

I've got a lot on my long weekend to-do list (including starting to design a new blog), so I'm making today's post very brief—a short sample of multilingual signs.

In a gesture typical of the tolerant and courteous attitude I found everywhere in London, they bi-lingualize their street signs occasionally, depending on the ethnic makeup of a neighborhood. Hal and I noticed English-Chinese street signs in their tiny Chinatown, and on the right is another example. This time the second language is, I think, Bangla, in an east London neighborhood I toured with the students' British culture class. The prof giving us the tour noted that the same neighborhood has seen waves of different types of immigrants, with the Bangladeshi folks being the latest.

Lots of folks from eastern Europe have come to the UK seeking better jobs and living conditions, as we noticed in London when conversing with young ladies behind the counter in sandwich shops who seemed often to have heavy Slavic-related accents (in Henry's opinion, they were usually quite lovely, as well). On the left is a for rent sign, which I think was in Edinburgh, that shows there must a lot of Polish emigrés there. (For some reason, I assumed it was Polish—could be something else?)

Then there are the more home-grown varieties of different cultures that are expresed in bilingual highway and other official signs, similar to what you see in Canada. On the cluster of signs below, which were along the highway that runs next to Loch Ness, you see not only Scottish Gaelic, but other languages to help tourists from all over remember that crazy aspect of British driving....

And you can get a whiff of the very complicated-looking spelling of Welsh on these signs, which greeted us right after crossing the border from England, on the very congested westward lanes of the M4.

Favorite Fotos: London churches, etc.

Living in London will make a church-goer out of anyone—for one reason or another. I'm living proof. There are just so many beautiful, historical, fascinating and acoustically fine church buildings in London (and in all of the UK, for that matter) that you just can't help but get interested in them, no matter your normal religious persuasion, or absence thereof.

The imposing structure on the right is the grand-daddy of them all, Westminster Abbey, justifiably on everyone's London must-see list. But there are literally hundreds of other fine church buildings in the city, and you could do worse than start your tour of them with the cheerfully-colored Westminster Cathedral on the left. You can climb its tower and get great views for £3.

Here are some other beautiful churches I saw on my London rambles, starting with one in my backyard (practically), St. Luke's on Redcliffe Gardens, shown at the left and below. There's a school operated by the church, too, so I was often treated to the sight of cute English kids in the playground as I walked by. As you probably can tell from the photos, the church is right in the middle of a fairly quiet residential neighborhood, through which I walked almost daily to work. And I could have snapped shots of at least 3 or 4 other impressive churches had I varied my route minutely.

(As an extra treat in the photo below, be sure to note the wonderful plane trees—this shot was obviously taken late in my stay.)


Venturing further afield, to a section of London crammed full of many more tourist-worthy buildings than my little neighborhood, you'll find some more famous, and quite lovely, churches, like St. Mary-le-Bow on Cheapside at the right, and St. Martin in the Fields (no actual fields any longer in evidence, just Trafalgar Square) at the left.

Near the Inns of Court and the City, right on the busy Strand, you'll find the imposing structure, with the equally imposing name of St. Dunstan-in-the-West, shown below, in as good a panoramic shot as I could get, with the top half in bright sunlight and the bottom in the deep shade that envelopes most of London at street level, especially when the sun stays low on its winter course.


And, on the right, there's a close-up of the large clock which is one of St. Dunstan's claims to fame.

Most of the churches I've shown so far are still being used as churches (while many church buildings in the UK have been turned to other uses) and have been well-maintained, at least to the untrained tourist eye. An interesting contrast comes from Christchurch Greyfriars, which did not have its bomb damage repaired after World War II (on the left). Its tower (designed by the ubiquitous Christopher Wren, a name you must know if you do any church tourist-ing in London) is still quite lovely, but the rest of the church grounds have been made into a garden.

All Saints, on Margaret Street, gives you a different look, with its interesting exterior patterns, particularly in the low light of a winter afternoon.


The fading light also made for easily dramatic photos of St. Pancras near the station of the same name and the British Library....


.... and St. Clement Danes, on the Strand.

Whereas most, if not all, of the churches in this post are Church of England, there are other denominations that worship in London, like the Methodists, whose Central Hall is a very handsome (and massive) building in Westminster:


Of course, given London's extreme multicultural makeup, there are other religions a lot further afield from C of E than the Methodists. Here is a glimpse of the tower of the London Central Mosque, near Regent's Park, peeking over the leafless trees of late autumn.


I'll close by returning to a very traditional London church landmark, Southwark Cathedral, which is a most impressive edifice, both architecturally and historically.

Favorite Fotos: Careful on those bikes!

I felt like posting something a bit more lighthearted after the two days of war memorials, and so I dipped back into my sign collection. Two of the small categories I've sorted the photos into rather go together—bicycles and general safety notices—so they provide the basis for today's entry.

The sign at the right, taken next to the Wellington Arch, in a very busy area for all kinds of transport (as you can see on the street-crossing lights at the left), displays a worthy message. The "be aware" sign isn't on the road, though, where you might think it's aimed at motorists, but on a pedestrian (and equine) walkway. In London, pedestrians do need to be aware of cyclists at all times, for their own benefit as well as the bike-riders. Unlike cars, bikes usually come upon you silently as you think it's finally safe to cross the street, and I had a couple of close calls with them myself.

Before getting to London, I thought taking a bike tour of part of the city sounded like fun. And there might be some areas where it would be. But after seeing the way they weave in and out of traffic, between lorries and buses, and speeding down bumpy streets—you'll never get me on a bike in London now. The rides we had in Potsdam with our German friends were hair-raising enough for me, and that's a pretty sleepy little village compared with London. So take the following, rather mysteriously-worded sign to heart....

Since I know this photo was taken in Bishop's Park, I'm fairly confident it does refer to bicycles, but taken out of context, couldn't it also be talking about economic cycles? climate cycles?

Cyclists are subject to all kinds of admonitions themselves, such as the "dismount" command on the sign shown on the left in a Kensington neighborhood. I was a bit lost when I took the photo, as I thought it would be easy to find a way from Hyde Park back to the classroom building on Cromwell Road without taking the major streets I was comfortable with. But when little streets do what this one does, unexpectedly....well, fortunately I found a helpful parking meter reader who told me how to exit the maze, and it did involve walking through this tiny gate, where I was glad any cyclists I might have encountered would have been dismounted.

Here's another sign aimed at cyclists. I believe this one was taken in either Cambridge or Oxford where, when classes are in session, you literally take your life in your hands crossing any street at any time due to the constant flow of bike-riders. But at least you'd be safe in this archway, at least theoretically.

On to more general safety notices, among which my favorite is this one on the left. I love the linguistic precision with which its warning is given: you're informed that there's not just a little danger involved, but danger of death. I don't remember where this photo was taken exactly, although I think it was just somewhere along a sidewalk, but you see similar signs not infrequently in London associated with gates, doors, and construction sites (which are quite plentiful).

The next two signs were taken at small train stations in East Anglia, either Whittlesford, which is the nearest station to the Imperial War Museum at Duxford, or Kelvedon, which is nearest Earls Colne. We didn't have trouble with slippery stairs leading over the tracks to the right platform at these stations, but I did experience the turbulence caused by a passing train (and it won't surprise you to learn that not all the trains stop at Whittlesford Parkway or Kelvedon). I had followed the sign's advice and wasn't standing near the edge, and I'm glad I wasn't. The force of the air displaced by the rushing train was quite astounding!














Finally, a sign from another form of mass transit, this time the tour bus we took to a rugby match in suburban London with my class. Something just struck me funny about the wording of what I assume are instructions for emergency escape from the top of the double-decker. What happens if you don't have a hammer on you? And mighn't those remnants be a bit sharp?