I hatched a clever plan to fly into London first and see some sights there, then take a train out to Bristol and fly back from Bristol. I didn't think Bristol had much to offer tourists, but I was utterly wrong about that. It also turned out to be quite expensive and inconvenient to add the London leg, although I enjoyed myself immensely while I was there.
First stop after arriving in London Saturday morning: the Tate Modern.
Click on the photo for more
about Carsten Höller
The ultra-modern metal slides winding all over the atrium were designed by Carsten Höller, are made of plastic and aluminum, and reminded me of scenes from the movie Brazil. They are also possibly the reason there were busloads of children running and screaming all over the place. The place was a mob scene. I decided to skip waiting in line for tickets for the longest slide, but right before I had to catch my train to Bristol, I tried the 1st floor slide. Then I wished I HAD waited for the long slide! The other exhibit I went nuts over was a huge collection of work by Amrita Sher-Gil, an incredible female Indian artist who died at age 28 (click elephants for more about Sher-Gil).
Of course, the web doesn't do it justice. I was totally mesmerized by both her life and her art. She was beautiful, independent, and talented. I wish she had lived longer; she was already producing masterpieces at age 20. Who knows what she could have done with another 30 years!
I managed to secure a sunset ride on the London Eye (by reserving my spot a week in advance), though my camera battery died just before I stepped into the bubble car.
Then I hopped a bus to Bristol to see my friend Clare.
Clare and her family live in a lovely home with a nice view of Bristol, and I was lucky that it happened to be a gorgeous sunny weekend. So we spent most of it outside seeing the sights, which are best described as charming and quaint. And I mean that with no negative connotation at all!
We walked up the stairs of two different little stone towers on tops of hills, one of which had a camera obscura and the other of which had a stone balcony and looked just like the tower where Rapunzel let down her golden hair. We had drinks on more than one outdoor terrace, rode an old choo-choo a few blocks along the river for 50 pence, wandered around a gallery with really disturbing art, admired a Banksy (click here for more about Banksy), and bought some books (English-language books are at least double the price in Amsterdam). Then we went back to Clare's for a home-cooked meal. At some point during the day, perhaps after I sampled some rhubarb and custard ice cream and pronounced it delicious, it came out that I wasn't quite sure what rhubarb was, even though I *think* I may have had rhubarb pie once or twice in my life. It turns out that Clare's dad grows bushels of rhubarb on his "allotment", which is kind of like a community garden in the States but with much stronger traditional associations. Anyway, Clare decided that I must have rhubarb crumble with clotted cream that very evening -- which I did and it was good.
Angels climbing Jacob's Ladder,
detail from main cathedral in Bath.
Check out that third angel!
The last day of my visit to the UK, we did a day trip to the Roman bath ruins in Bath, watched a puppet show, ate Sally Lunn buns, and sipped tea inside a fine establishment (white table cloths, string quartet) while just outside our window we could see 2 male street performers in nothing but tiger-striped thongs forming themselves into human sculptures. I wish I had had the presence of mind to snap a photo.
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