“London, New York, Hong Kong, Moscow, Paris, Dubai, Singapore, Istanbul, Shanghai, Tokyo, Beijing. A short list of the most influential and wildly world-altering cities in the world.” – Old Sean
Supercity
There are some places in the world that are unique for their longevity and vitality. They have a certain gravity to them, especially for people locked in a transient lifestyle. These are places in the modern era which people visit again and again, forever seeing old places in new lights with recently uncovered facets. They cannot be avoided, not really. Fate (and airlines) demand passing them at one point or another.
Hong Kong, Singapore, Paris, New York, Istanbul and London. There are others which qualify as well, but if I had to choose the cities I’m most frequently funneled through, these are the most common. And this week, that nexus is London.
After leaving Scotland, my brother, sister and I took a long bus to London, with many stops on the way. The most memorable of these stops was the extremely brief visit to the city Leeds, where we visited a couple of glass-roof market arcades.
London Arrival
Upon finally arriving in London, our remaining time together was brief. My sister flew home by herself, returning to the United States East Coast while my brother and I would gradually move towards mainland Europe.
My brother and I made it to our AirBnb rather early that night and began powering through the following day.
London is stupidly old, huge, twisty, entertaining and expensive. There are an astounding number of things to do for a visiting guest. I didn’t allocate much time visiting London (because the expenses are always concerning) so I knew we were going to be rushing somewhat. Luckily for me, that means an enormous amount of walking.
My sister, prior to her flight home, was cursed with terribly inept footwear. It limited our walkability substantially. When I travel, I think nothing of walking upwards of six hours a day. That wasn’t a prime option just a day earlier.
But my brother is clad in decent footwear and I was finally able to partake in my favorite pastime. Aside from a morning bus into the city center, our time would be spent on foot. A lot of time.
On Foot Start
We started our groggy day at Leadenhall Market, a unique and rather pretty shopping arcade with numerous restaurants and painted dragons in the rafters. I was hoping to glance the neon-light-junkyard “God’s Own Junkyard” but apparently they’ve either been shut down or changed location.
Such is London.
Next, we walked further West, passing by London Wall for a brief glance. We also stopped at a strange place called Novelty Automation. Advertised as a shop filled with whacky mechanical inventions, this was a bit of a letdown. The shop is a veritable ghost town with clunky, paint-faded scam machines straight out of an eighties con-artist magazine. Instant eclipse rooms (a sealed box), coin jackpots (a wineglass which filled with small change meant to be shattered to release the money), radiation blockers (fabric mats) and other oddities were scattered about. It’s not that the place wasn’t interesting; it certainly was.
But it was also tacky, rundown and everything costed several coins to function. I ended up doing a swift lap of the building, avoiding eye-contact with the man at the front desk before leaving.
Egyptology Abroad
Our next stop proved to be far more interesting. The Petrie Museum of Egyptian Artifacts was crammed full of Egyptian ruins, artifacts, jewlery, discoveries and sarcophaguses. The museum, located near a university campus, is a rather small space, but absolutely packed with preserved artifacts.
The descriptions on Egyptian culture, the age of the pyramids, the structure of the Nile and the traditions found in the Book of the Dead are all explained in great detail. Most interesting for me were the miniture Shabtis. These tiny figures were placed in tombs to magically perform tasks and services for the deceased. It is thought that their name translates to “Answerer” as the figures were answer calls to service in the master’s afterlife. The various figures have inscriptions which activate them, stating phrases in Ancient Egyptian.
Naturally, as an Egyptian museum in London, the Petrie has a bit of a historical contention. During the “Egyptology Craze” of archeology, Egypt was ruthlessly plundered for artifacts, robbing Egyptians of many cultural heritage artifacts. There’s a rather dark joke referring to the events.
“Why are the Pyramids in Egypt?”
“Because the British couldn’t find a boat big enough to bring them to London.”
Procuring Egyptian artifacts in the modern era is far more challenging. Egypt has extremely strict laws against the export of artifacts in the hopes of retaining their heritage. They also are in somewhat infamous negotiations with Western nations currently housing Egyptian artifacts. The results are mixed, but modern museum ethics generally prohibits the purchase of new or undocumented and verified artifacts, since counterfeits have begun to circulate in recent decades.
Toy Shops
Once my brother and I left the museum, we drank a concerning amount of fortifying coffee and rallied to visit Hamelys Toy Shop. Located on Beak Street, the toy shop is more like an amusement park. There are six floors with a huge slew of entertainment goods practically ricocheting off the ceiling. And ricochet isn’t an exaggeration, since Hamleys employees are required to play with toys to draw in crowds. RC cars race underfoot, miniture light drones zoom past Optimus Prime Statues, light up Harry Potter Wands flicker in hands, fake snow is tossed in the air near Elsa and video games are fully showcased. The visits to Hamelys are always a bit unreal and overwhelming.
After our spotty eyes left Hamleys, my brother and I visited a quieter entertainment shop, the House of MinaLima. The two story Harry Potter homage is a special place. There are various copies of the Harry Potter series with original artwork sketched inside. Even better, there are various prop replications from the movies scattered throughout the building. House banners, a fireplace spewing letter, a series of Ministry of Magic Wanted Posters and golden snitches are just a few.
The Pristine Collection
After this, we managed to visit my absolutely favorite stop of the day. We entered the Wallace Armor Collection.
If there is anything more impressive in London, I have yet to find it. The Wallace Collection is the unbridled passion project of two Victorian aristocrats, who traveled and horded wildly. The upstairs portion of the collection has some truly stunning paintings. There are also dozens of rooms, all in a unique color scheme with a ostentatious amount of expensive accents, such as crystal chandeliers, sculpted clocks, Greek bronze cast statues, artful furniture and regals busts. However, it was the downstairs section that my brother and I enjoyed.
Weapons. Armor. More weapons. More armor.
But these weren’t typical bits and pieces of armor. Instead, the Wallace Collection houses ornamental, extremely high-quality ceremonial masterworks. There are muskets with intricate interworking locks, the barrels etched with tiny ruins. Halberds with silk tassels and interlocking gear designs rest behind glass. Metal breastplates and helmets are decorated with unique, curving ridges and symbols. A cannon is carved with so many layers of waves and swirls, it appears to be form from an natural collaboration of metal and sea. The museum hosts artifacts from France, the UK, Germany, Russia, Saudi Arabia, Japan, India and a dozen other places.
Park and Peak Strolls
Following the Wallace Collection, my brother and I began looping towards some of the more traditional sights of London. We walked through the very edge of Hyde Park (though the majority was committed o hosting a supremely popular concert). We stopped to see the forever wrenching Animals in War Memorial, a sculpture paying respects to the untold millions of horses, mules, donkeys, dogs, cats, messenger birds, oxen and a singular famous bear who served the military in one capacity or another. They died in human conflicts that meant less than nothing to them, beyond whatever affection they felt towards mankind or individual people.
Further south, we passed the Wellington Arch, spending additional time in Green Park. We walked by Buckingham Palace to spot the famous guards before visiting St. James Park (to see ducklings) and eventually Westminster. We angled towards the river, passing the Palace of Westminster and Big Ben.
Feet smarting slightly by now, we next ducked into Leake Street to explore the vast and ever-changing Graffiti Tunnel. Then, our evening was spent visiting the London Eye, various tiny shops, a few bridges, the strange Café-in-the-Crypt at Saint Martin’s, Trafalgar Square and the Asian District. We settled in for dinner and called it a night.
Old Friends in Greenwich
The following day, I started wandering alone. My brother would attend his own adventure, while I would head to Greenwich Market to meet an old friend from China, a woman named Fay. She ran a bit late, so I had plenty of time to browse the National Maritime Museum, a few nice shops and the Old Royal Naval College.
Afterwards, when Fey arrived to find me reading in a bookshop, we took a meandering walk through Greenwich Park, swapping stories before getting fish and chips and settling in to watch the sunset near the River Thames. It was lovely seeing her, and I often forget how meeting old friends restores my soul so thoughouly.
I didn’t make it home until well after midnight, my brother staying awake to ensure he could unlock the door for me. The following morning, I again woke early, heading into town to meet another old friend named Sami. We too traded tales before he drove me in his Porcha to the Victoria Coach Station.
A Curse of Flixbus
At this point, this post should be over. My bus was to leave at 12:30 PM via the company Flixbus, heading to Paris for the next few days.
Except Flixbus is a tragedy of a company and they absolutely flailed, failed and hacked the entire time.
The 12:30 PM bus was canceled. The replacement bus was due at 5:30 PM, so my brother and I headed out to borrow some power outlets and eat pizza. When we returned to the station at 4:30, we were informed that the bus had already left… at 4 PM, the driver unwilling to wait. The next replacement bus was at 8:00 PM.
But somehow, Flixbus both canceled and rescheduled my bus tickets without my permission or knowledge to 10:00 PM. Customer service did nothing during three one-hour calls. Changing tickets costed over 180 Pounds. If I wanted to pay a driver on the 8:00 PM bus for an empty seat, we would be required to pay 300 euros for the two of us. I nearly slashed his tires. I was finally forced to wait for the 10 PM bus with my world-weary brother.
A bus which, in alignment with the profane will of bad luck, managed to be a full hour late. It wasn’t much of a bus to speak of either. The bathroom door was entirely broken, there were no curtains to block out light and the damn seat was broken, promptly dropping my head on the lap of the person behind me.
At least consistent, the bus driver failed to get us to the ferry checkpoint in time, and we were forced to wait for another 40 minutes to catch the next ferry to France. As a final insult, we managed to hit Paris morning rush hour, our hell-ride finally depositing us at Bercy Station a full 25 hours and 30 minutes after our initial start time.
Christ, Flixbus. Get your goddamn self together.
Welcome to Paris
But regardless, I’ve finally arrived in Paris. I’ll be here for the next few days with designs to head south to Bordeaux, where my brother will finally fly home to the States.
But for me, life sort of continues to wander. And Paris is going to be a big part of that wandering in the coming days.
So until then,
Best regards and Excellent Trails,
Old Sean
Written July 17th 2022
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