Advertisement
Published: June 24th 2005
Edit Blog Post
St. Bride's Church
Note the "wedding cake" structure. Dan here.
Friday was an eventful day for London and for us, bookended by events that together marked it as a day of transition: a set of major morning transport snarls both caused and exacerbated by the heat, and, as the sun retreated for the evening, a cool, thundery rainstorm.
Weather
I don't know if we've harped on this point much, but it has been HOT in London this past week. Highs have been in the low but humid 90's in a city not really equipped for it: air-conditioning is rare and the "cold" drinks are generally lukewarm from overworked refrigerators.
It has been a week of long, still sweats and small, fleeting pleasures. The pleasures have mostly involved the chance moments when the Tube conjures a strong wind: the push of an approaching train as you stand on the platform, the pull of a departing train as you head up the escalator, and the grimy but glorious blast you get if you are lucky enough to stand by the front window of a car at high speed.
When things stand still, however, the Tube is hell. And it was hell on Friday morning.
Pump Court
The passageway leading to Temple Church. Snarl
Heading to class Friday morning at 8:45, I found Lancaster Gate Tube stop in turmoil. All westbound Central Line train service was at a standstill, and the queue for complaints and advice led out the door and around the corner. Needing eastbound, I pushed Schadenfreude-ily through the crowds to my platform. It was packed. Enough commuters to fill a train stood with me on the platform. When one train approached, already full, about half of the crowd pushed aboard. With the next full train, the rest pushed aboard, except for me and maybe three others. (I was ahead of schedule.)
And this train, packed like a cup of worms, went nowhere. For five, ten, fifteen minutes. Finally a garbled announcement let us know that a train at Marble Arch had to go in reverse back to Lancaster Gate for some reason. Meaning this train had to get out of the way.
Screw that, said I, and I went in search of a bus. No deal. The stop was crammed with people, and every bus that went by was too full to even bother stopping. Finally, at 9:45, I gave up and went back to the
flat. Class was to be short, and by the time I got there it would be over.
We heard later on the news that 800 people had to be evacuated from a stopped Tube train westbound on the Central Line, after sweltering in the tunnel for 50 minutes. As for my eastbound line, it was stopped for two hours. Someplace north of London, a commuter train stalled and passengers baked in 120-degree heat before breaking windows to escape.
All of the snarls were blamed on heat. It was far too hot for London.
Sightseeing Anyway
After my failed attempt to get to class, Ashley and I decided to chance the Circle Line over to Blackfriars. The Circle Line is a shambling old sot on the best of days, but on a day like this it seemed almost reliable, if crowded and slow. Our goal was to seek out St. Brides and Temple Churches and then stroll down the Strand to the National Gallery at Trafalgar Square.
After a fantastic lunch at St. Brides' tavern, munching green curry (me) and scampi and chips (her) and listening to City professionals on lunch, St. Brides Church was
a nice digestif. The sanctuary itself was small but gorgeous, but the real treasure was the crypt exhibit, put together by the Museum of London and showing the foundationary remnants of a site that has hosted a church in various forms for 2000 years. The basement digs reach all the way to a Roman footpath and trace the history up from there like an archaeological layer cake.
And speaking of cake, St. Bride's church tower is allegedly the inspiration for every tiered wedding cake we never finish.
Lost in the Temple
After St. Bride's we went in search of the Temple Church, a spooky old Crusader's church with Knights Templar in effigy on the floor, site of much religious conspiracy hoohah in "The Da Vinci Code."
Temple Church is located in an area where maps fail. The London A to Z got us close, but from there it was a blind trek through passageways and courtyards. At one point we stumbled into the Temple itself: a cloister for English law students. Most of them were busy getting trollied at the "Witness Box" tavern, at noon on a Friday. The rest appeared to be lounging in
the Temple gardens.
Finally, by equal parts nosing and blind luck, a collonaded passageway led us to the Temple Church. It was every bit as spooky as Dan Brown makes it out to be, and the later rectangular addition to the original circle every bit as jarring.
Down the Strand to Trafalgar
From Temple Church it was a short stroll down the bustling Strand to the National Gallery, with a stop at the original Twinings Shop, where we picked up twelve exotic teas for 1.20 pounds.
The National Gallery was appropriately stunning. Took in a whole mess of Jesus in the 1400-1500 section -- lots of paintings there by the Ninja Turtles! -- before relaxing with Gauguin and Seurat, then a bit of insanity with Van Gogh. Pas mal, pas mal.
Finally, rain
After a couple hours at the Nat'l Gal, caught the old Circle Line back to Paddington. We emerged from Paddington just as it began to rain in earnest. Thunder, lightning, big fat drops. It felt great in the 80-degree heat, and finally London looked like it was supposed to. You come here, you expect everything to be a
shade of gray. Golden sun just doesn't suit it.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.301s; Tpl: 0.018s; cc: 6; qc: 44; dbt: 0.2482s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb