Started off with a tasteful cancer advertisement hoarding about a bump growing in the road, having previously seen a moving version on television. For some reason, I thought it quietly effective, all the better for managing without finding it necessary to show us gory body parts, after the manner of some anti-smoking advertisements. But maybe it worked for me, as a veteran. Maybe others will just pass it by.
Followed up by a young man sitting next to us on the train eating his breakfast, a breakfast which consisted of a large paper cup full of coffee and a middle sized paper bag full of pastry, from which last he was taking large bites from time to time, mastications in between. This I found all rather off-putting, perhaps because of the childhood prohibition about eating in public. From where I associate to a Japanese observation that they find the western aversion to eating noises rather odd. They slurp and slop in their restaurants as much as they want and none of their own are bothered by it at all.
And so on to the Tower where we took coffee in a café done up in what I took to be shuttered concrete. A bit of heritage concrete from the sixties to show respect to the World Heritage Site adjacent. I was a bit taken aback to find that it was actually wood, dressed up to look like shuttered concrete. See snap above.
Outside a police patrol of six, two armed with machine guns, plus two dogs. But a fairly cursory inspection at entry got us into the precincts. Inside there were a few ceremonial soldiers of the Buckingham Palace variety, but I did spot a few regulars in desert colours round the back. Which reminded me of the days when Osbert Sitwell, then a household cavalryman (or perhaps a foot guard), was stationed there. See reference 1.
One singular turret, which I did not remember at all, contained elaborate graffiti carved in the stone by the various illustrious - or at least armigerous - persons who had been kept there over the years.
The Tower is now part of the same operation as Hampton Court (which made buying annual senior membership well worth while), and had the educational displays to show for it, In the summer I think they do replicas of catapults and luvvies dressed up as knights in armour. Perhaps they do the Tower and the Court, turn and turn about.
One big attraction was the refurbished display of jewels, with the jewels themselves being behind two very serious steel doors, about a foot thick and including some huge bolts. Presumably complemented by unseen concrete all around. There were also some rather bossy guards, mostly smaller ladies from parts overseas and one of whom was very officious about telling me to put my telephone away, my not using it at the time either for taking pictures or as a telephone notwithstanding. I suppose it was all in keeping with our long tradition of mercenaries - from Germany, Nepal and Ireland to name just three countries of origin - in our armies.
Quite taken with the short moving walkway to keep the punters moving past the crowns. A simple but effective way of dealing with the crowds of the summer.
Quite put off by the large amount of show off gold, a lot of it dating from the restoration. Not at all sure that this reminder of the wealth and ostentation of the ruling classes was a good thing. But then again, perhaps it is good to be reminded of what they are like. For gold pot read monster basement. With the love of underground living of the very rich continuing to puzzle me: are they scratching some rare gene lifted from the mole or the earthworm?
Lunch in a canteen not unlike that at Hampton Court, although I did not see an attendant who looked on the ball enough to know whether it was actually the same contractor. Inter alia, I took some baked root vegetables, with the amount of oil on them compensating handsomely for the lack of sugar and saturated fat.
Closed the visit with a quick visit to the White Tower itself, the home of a great deal of armour, some of it collected from the battlefield of Waterloo, and a very handsome chapel, reminding me of both Rochester Castle and St Bartholomew the Great. See reference 2 for the former, reference 3 for the latter. It was, I suppose, of very roughly the same date. I wondered about the date of all the windows punched through the outside walls of the tower, presumably some time after the original construction. The entry stairs were new construction, but all oak and dowels, very retro. There were a few British trusties in this part of the operation, all smiles and welcome. Well informed too.
Out to get a glimpse of some ravens in a cage and to cross Tower Bridge. To find that the trains from London Bridge to Waterloo East have not been running and will not run for some time, this from a chap who sounded as if his parents might have been real Cockneys. Reduced to using the swish but rather more laborious Jubilee Line.
We also came across a stand up wheel chair on the riverside walk between Tower Bridge and London Bridge, something I have never seen before. With the standing up resulting in the occupant being rather higher than the rest of us, rather than the usual rather lower. It all looked a bit unstable to me, but presumably the occupant thought it a good plan. If you ask google about 'stand up wheel chair', you turn up the very thing, a snip at just under £15,000. Only the posh disabled need apply.
Reference 1: http://psmv2.blogspot.co.uk/2014/05/osbert.html.
Reference 2: http://psmv2.blogspot.co.uk/2013/04/the-rocks-of-rochester.html.
Reference 3: http://pumpkinstrokemarrow.blogspot.co.uk/search?q=Bartholomew.
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