Monday, 20 July 2009

London pt.7 - Rain, Death & Potter pain

The day's been a steady 15C, windy, drizzly. The kind of rain that makes you self-conscious holding an umbrella. Heavy enough to ruin your makeup, light enough to make you feel you're not aussie enough to brave the elements.
Read on some pamphlet the guy who invented the lightbulb also came up with the concrete piano. Felt better about my off days.
Evaluated my life over cornflakes this morning. From what I worked out I think I should be scared. Terrified in fact. Instead I'm feeling terribly content.
Heard the weirdest name on the BBC today: Agewen. Some girl in Wales was demonstrating a sport popular in the country which I couldn't quite understand. Trotting is where a jockey sits in a carriage thing being pulled by a horse. Thought while watching it'd be easier to just sit on it.
Mrs Slocum died. Thought it was hilarious when the newsreader said she was most famous for her jokes about her cat. Such a pussy.
Whenever someone dies it makes me wonder how many people will notice when I do. And what page of the newspaper or rather by that time, tweets it will get. I'd be satisfied with one person caring. I think anyone would. Anymore than that is just a lovely bonus.
Must be fate me turning up in England on the 500th anniversary of Henry VIII's succession. There's so many festivities around London celebrating his life. Behind Elizabeth I and Anne Boleyn, he's my favourite monarch to know too much about.
I went to visit Hampton Court, Henry's main residency, with Amanda on the train. It was the first time I've travelled out of central London so I was able to spot my first house since being in the country.
Amanda has a habit of having long and loud philosophical one-way conversations with herself, about me, on public transport. I sit and listen and nod as she chatters away about what I should be thinking and doing with my life. I don't know why public transport is the catalyst to such rants but it has become strangely so that way.
The buses in London are slow to get anywhere in. But at least you get a good view of the city, unlike the tube. I always head straight for the top seats in the front of the bus like any good tourist does.
Out at Hampton Court we got handed an invitation to Henry VIII's wedding to Cathryn Parr along with our tickets into the palace. Didn't bother going as I'm not really interested in any of the wives beyond the first 3. The palace is beautiful. The gardens are stunning. There were about 10 school groups walking around in period robes you could borrow to wear around the place. Felt like I was on the set of Harry Potter. Wondered if the casting directors of that movie were regretting casting Daniel Radcliffe now knowing he'd grow up to look like he does.

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