27/07/07: Spamalot

It was a Friday night, and I didn’t have anything planned. Every day for the last six weeks, I walked to and from the Notre Dame London Law Centre by going down Tottenham Court Road and Charing Cross Road; and every day I walked past The Palace, where Spamalot was playing. I’d hoped to take Chris there when he arrived, but since those plans were now ditched, I thought to myself, why not? Why not go by myself? So I did that spur-of-the-moment thing and walked into the box office and bought myself a ticket for that night’s performance.

And boy was I glad I did. It was thoroughly enjoyable. The only thing that got to me a little was how much I was enjoying these musicals, and how much I didn’t enjoy enjoying them by myself. Nothing reminds you of how alone you are like having a good time on your own. It’s just not the same. The play was great. The view was great. My seat was great. The songs were great. The actors were great. It was all wonderful. Except that there was not one there but a room full of strangers to share it with. What a shame.

Spamalot was essentially a musical version of Monty Pyton’s Search for the Holy Grail. No photos from this post unfortunately, but I did manage to find the official web site, but there is the official games site where you can catapult cows at the French knights (or at the English knights if you’re French).

Much fun was had.

23/07/07: Wicked

Tonight was one of those nights that I’d put up high on my list of favourite things. Maybe even next to ice cream and chocolate. And that’s pretty high up. Wicked is a stage musical that has to be seen. I’d describe it but it was quite indescribable. I’d write about it but it left me lost for words. I’d tell you to ‘picture this’ but it’s beyond imagination. I loved it okay? It was amazing, brilliant, smart, touching, everything you’d want in a stage musical and then some. I think what I really enjoyed about it was it’s originality. Although Mary Poppins was great, and it was great because you could sing along with those old songs from when you were a kid, Wicked had in it the element of surprise. Having not read the book, I was seeing the story for the very first time. And what a great way to remember your first time. Highly recommended. If it ever comes to Australia, I’d go see it.

23/07/07: British Museum III

Manish and Asma had arranged to visit the museum some time ago but one thing or another kept getting in the way. They invited me along tonight, so after uni I went back to my dorm room, had my lunch and did my stuff before meeting them there when they finished their classes.

Asma had wanted to see the Egyptian mummies and Manish wanted to see the ancient Greek and Roman exhibits. Having not seen those two rooms yet, I was pretty keen to tag along.

I think the thing that amazed me most about the old stuff from the middle east and stuff was how well preserved they were. Granted, they were mainly all pots and figurines, and to be honest, the dates and times and details were actually going in one eye and out the other; but if you just check out the photos, they’re incredibly fresh-looking.

Asma seemed quite taken in by all the little perfume bottles; and was amused that some of the pots and stuff can still be found in her grandparents’ place in Yemen. Not quite as old as we thought.

When we got to the mummies, we were surprised to see Manish sitting on a chair outside the room, very reluctant to come in. I asked if it was a cultural or religious thing, but eventually he came in. I think he was just put out by it all. Pretty amazing how much stuff the British Museum went and pillaged from other countries.

This was so much more astounding when we went and saw all the parts of the ancient ruins like the Parthenon that were pieced together in the museum. I mean, imagine a building so big that it can house another big building within it. Then imagine that at some point that latter big building was disassembled (well, ruined), and shipped hundreds of miles across land and sea and put back to pieces again.

Either way, I was too excited about going out to see Wicked tonight to pay any real attention to anything in the museum. So it was a lovely time spent with lovely people, but my mind was all on Wicked.

20/07/07: British Museum II

Not too much excitement here. Ash picked me up from school and, since he had not visited the museum on this trip, we decided to make a quick visit. Ash has a keen interest in Asian culture, religions and belief systems, so that was the area we visited. There weren’t that many photos taken. Both of us were tired, weary, and feeling somewhat melancholic what with it being Ash’s last day here tomorrow. We walked around the Asian exhibit – there didn’t seem to be much history behind a lot of the south-east Asian nations compared to the Chinese sections.

18/07/07: Wine and Cheese Night

The Notre Dame London Law Centre, as it is known, put on a wine and cheese night for its students tonight. It was organised by Professor Moens, who had espoused the meritorious benefits of said wine and cheese to every student’s body in the student body at every lecture leading up to this invaluable event. The wine, he detailed on several occasions, would be a fine example of Italian viti- and viniculture; the cheese – which will consist of four different varieties selected by himself, must be tasted to be believed.

It was quite amusing to see that on the day of the night, many people actually made the effort to dress up a bit. Several of the boys wore shirts and ties, and a couple of people volunteered to play on the grand piano to add to the feel of a wine and cheese night.

The wine was good – even aldehyde dehydrogenase deficient ol’ me took in a glass. Sure, the histamine reaction was pretty bad, but hey – I wasn’t going to let Professor Moens down was I? And the four cheeses were more than adequately smelly, which means that it must have been expensive and select. There weren’t any crackers to go with the cheese, no doubt because it would detract from the flavours of the cheese (à la Vlado’s in Richmond – boy was that a night to remember – ask Ying about it sometime…); but there were some crusty bread rolls with curls of butter available. And funnily enough, it was actually the crusty bread rolls that everyone pigged out on first!

Uneventful, not many photos taken, but enjoyable nonetheless.

17/07/07: Mary Poppins

If there is one thing that London could definitely offer me that Perth and even Melbourne can’t, it’s the theatres. And, being located in Bloomsbury, so damn close to the West End, I could not possibly let the opportunity to see these shows go by. So a ticket was bought for Mary Poppins. And ooh it was good. Damn good. No photos allowed during the shows, so there aren’t any evidence of the amazing spectacle, but ah, it was brilliant. The sets were mind-blowing, the cast were incredible, the music was nostalgic, the whole atmosphere was unforgettable.

The production is based on the Disney film rather than the books themselves, but did include certain aspects from the books that weren’t shown in the film; such as Mrs Corry, the personalities of the characters (Poppins being arrogant and the children being spoilt), and Poppins leaving when things got too tough. Well worth watching if it ever comes to town. A quick did-you-know: did you know that P L Travers, who wrote the original Mary Poppins books, is a Strayan*? Cool huh?

* not all us Strayans speak like this by the way. Oii know oii doint.

13/15/07 – 15/07/07: The Lakes District

Better planning involved in this weekend’s than there was during last weekend’s. A car had been booked – over the phone this time; adequate time was allocated to allow for the indubitably lengthy procedure which we’d have to endure to complete the paperwork and so on; bags were packed, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Went to uni, then met up with Ash, walked to the car hire place, waited in line, and left with a car spot on 2pm. It took us about 4 to 5 hours to drive up to the Lakes District, and it was bucketing down with rain the entire way. But we made it there without any dramas, adventures or even anything remotely blog-worthy.

The Lakes District is quite a large area, and is popular for being the area where Beatrix Potter hung out and wrote her stories, and for being where Derwent pencils came from, even though lots of other famous writers got their inspiration from the area (like Wordsworth). You can read more about the Lakes District here.

The first thing that I noticed or realised was that we were actually on a mission to find what we’d left behind; something I always loathed tourists doing in my own home country down under. Why bother going all the way somewhere else if all you’re looking for is what you already had at home? Still, it was a strangely comforting sort of realisation, since it really compounded the fact that there are certain things that I like, and ‘getting away from it all’ was one of them. It helps to make one appreciate what we have at home anyway: the room to move, the fact that in WA, one could just drive out and camp out for the night without having to see another person for miles around. And the fact that it’s all natural.

Not so here. We drove and drove in search for somewhere to camp out for the night, but there was no such place. It was all very, very… well, done up. You know, specially made car parks, fenced-off walk ways, nice toilets and so on. In the end, we pulled over in a deserted car park and slept in the car for the night.

That was another thing we took for granted. There’s no room in the UK for sedans. Everyone drives itty bitty little cars. So there was much twisting and turning and maneuverings and even disassembling of the interior of the vehicle (no, I’m not kidding. Ash pulled out the back seat. Literally.) in order to find a comfortable sleeping position. It was not a comfortable night.

The next morning was just as rainy and cloudy. But we drove off again in search of a secluded camping spot, stopping by a town to buy some breakfast materials (eggs, bacon, tomtoes... saucepan).

And boy were we excited when we finally found a little turn off that led to a nice lake! Only to have our hopes brutally crushed when we saw, here, in the middle of nowhere, in a forest by a lake, where there was no one else around, no cars, not a sound of traffic, surrounded by nature and the sounds of birds chirping and rivers flowing and brooks-a-babbling, a ticket machine. Yes. A ticket machine. You had to pay to park. It was unbelievable.

Anyway. The rest of the day was very relaxing. We found a little nook along the lake, built a fire, enjoyed a nice bacon-n-eggs-n-tomatoes breakfast, drove around the towns of the lower lakes, tried to go sailing but the winds and rain blew that idea out of the water (ha ha); and would you believe it, actually found a camping spot somewhere off the road to Ickenthwaite. Wherever that may be. If it weren’t for the oak trees, you would think we were in Victoria or south western WA.

So we camped there that Saturday night, and went looking for another opportunity to sail on Sunday. But this time, there was no wind at all, so we couldn’t sail. So we headed for home. And as soon as we did, it started bucketing down again. It was strangely enjoyable driving through the pouring rain at 160kph. But the little Peugeot was doing about 4500 revs, and 5000 revs was in the red zone on the dial so I had to slow it. We made it back quite early actually, navigating through London traffic a lot easier having done it once before.

All in all, a fairly uneventful weekend in the Lakes District. Photos can be accessed here.