The Bloody Tower (Day 6)

Today, we visit the tower. The tower of horror and the tower of blood. Sounds ominous, doesn’t it? What it really means is that we are visiting the Tower of London with it’s extensive history and high profile former residents. I was most excited about the crown jewels of the English empire and today, they would be mine. Oh yes, they would be mine.

Since it was Saturday (the 23rd), I wasn’t excited about battling the crowds, but since we had no choice as time was limited, we put on our brave face and forged ahead.







Since there were large herds of people in the guided tours, I decided I was going to make a dash for the jewels. We headed to the Jewel Tower and I laid my eyes on the preciouses. (I did not take the jewel pictures – no pictures allowed. Boo!)






So gaudy. My favorite was, as I like to call it, the Vivienne Westwood orb:


Still, very gaudy and fake-looking. There were tons more things in the jewel rooms, like spoons, punch bowls, chairs, serving dishes, a whack-load more crowns, a cape, and lots of other gaudy-looking gold things.

We got to watch the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II on a large screen which made the experience interesting because we saw the (gaudy) items used in the video with our very eyes. Lots of it was extremely old.

After I had enough of the jewels and thoughts of stealing the scepter, we headed back outside to take a gander on our way to the White Tower in the center of the fortress.




A Roman wall, dated the 5th or 6th century.


Paupers

On the way into the White Tower we were shown a place in the wall where the bodies of two teenage boys were found (circa 1483)…creeeepy. The White Tower was mostsly a large arsenal.








Some creepy-looking horses.




The chopping block and axe that beheaded Mary, Queen of Scots.


Through the window in the White Tower. Where are the guys with the beaver hats?


Armour of (I believe) King Henry VIII and his noble steed.


Interesting crotch protection. Quite optimistic? Maybe not…


Does this count as armour?


King Charles I’s armour…looks like he was much smaller than Mr. Prince Charles.





After having enough of old armor, we headed back outside to the scene of death and despair where the proverbial bodies were executed.






A pillow to rest their head…made of glass. How rude.





We then visited the prime real estate that is the Bloody Tower. It wasn’t all that bloody, unfortunately.






They did a little marchy, changing of the guard thing.

We then visited the living quarters or whatever they were called and they were kind of shoddy. I guess luxury is defined differently now versus the 15th century.


”How come every time you come around my London, London Bridge wanna go down like, London London London…” (though that is NOT London Bridge, it is the one Fergie used in the video. Boo Fergie.)




A King died in that spot. Right there.



By the time we had hit the three and a half hour mark, I was itching to get out of there. I had enough of the cramped spaces and was mostly peopled-out. We walked along the river before deciding we were starving and headed to Wetherspoons.




More escapees




Despite it’s visual appeal, this meal was uber-gross. The fries were okay, but that pot pie thing tasted like an Russian man’s armpit. Skanky.

We decided to head across town to the Marble Arch and do a bit of exploring in the infamous Hyde Park, near Speakers Corner.







Hyde Park was massive, not unlike Stanley Park in Vancouver. As we entered the park, we noticed signs for the Princess Diana Memorial Fountain and decided that we would head in that direction.





After walking approximately 20 miles following the signs, there was still no fountain in sight, until there was. Surely we had found it as it was quite elaborate! Sadly, it was only the Italian Fountains, dating from 1861. Believing there would be a major find at the Diana Memorial Fountain, we kept walking, seeming to be heading in a complete circle. Along the way, we met up with Peter Pan on a stack of bronze.





More walking and walking and walking, and although it was almost a hour later and completely dark, I saw a sign that mentioned the fountain. Apparently, this is it:


What a load of crap. It was closed, no water, no fountain or anything at all! What a tribute. Apparently it sprung a leak and has been shut for a while. We were quite disappointed since we had walked for about 10 hours, but that was that.



Dropping on to a bench to relax our tired feet, we managed to reflect a little bit on the week and take a bit of breathing room. We then managed to drag ourselves up and off to the grocery store and subsequent train station for the journey back to Penge. This is not to say it was our last adventure of the day...

On our ride, our first stop is in Brixton, a rather grotty stop in south London. We managed to pick a ratty he/she in a baggy parka who did a beeline for the water closet (as they call a washroom here), which we were sitting beside. The person walked into the room and said, “Hello?” and then jerked back around and asked us, “Who said ‘Hello’?” Um…no one? Then they peeked at us from around the door for about 45 seconds, eyes darting about, before slamming the door. Before locking it, they proceed to begin chopping things up and snorting things, much to my disgust and discomfort! We managed to make it our stop before the door opened and the crackhead emerged. Hectic.

Tomorrow is some additional hectic things involving a shirt with dildos on it. Why am I not surprised? London is very…different than you and I.