The Year of the Snake, and Christie's too!

So I earlier said that I didn't want this to become just another tourist blog, that I wanted this little blip on the internet's multitudinous tubes to be something slightly more. However, sometimes, opportunities present themselves within that context, and grow beyond that original encounter such that they become truly memorable. So, with that slight caveat aside, let's about talk about new year celebrations. More specifically, let's talk about London's Chinese New Year, billed as the largest outside of Asia.

One thing that struck me was the Englishness of the event. First of all, it was a grey, drizzly day, so check. Secondly, the locus of the celebration was a stage in Trafalgar Square, though of course Lord Nelson couldn't be bothered to turn around (probably because the event wasn't for him).

Unfortunately, because I generally value keeping my internal body temperature above what medical professionals call "bone-chilling freezing", I did not arrive early enough to make my stage to the beginning of the stage performances. Further, that somewhat self-serving tardiness also meant that a sea of umbrellas prevented me even seeing the on-stage presenters. As such, the main draw failed to really attract my attention, despite the more adorable umbrellas that I stumbled across.

However, fortune was on my side: I spied a friend of mine from an alumni event just the week before. He and his housemate were likewise getting tired of watching umbrellas get rained upon while the sounds of unseen skits bounced around the square, so we decided to head into Chinatown proper for both food and shelter.

Even with the crowd, we were able to snag a window table on the second floor of a fairly nondescript restaurant. Over hot tea and soup, we were able to get to know each other and dry up, bonding over tales of storied academia and the experience of being abroad. From our vantage point, we were able to look with pity upon those souls still out in the rain, and even caught a few envious glances in our direction. The animosity likely intensified as a dragon dance procession came right below our window and the crowd squeezed together as everyone attempted to snap a cell-phone picture over everyone else attempting to do the same. Meanwhile, we just took advantage of our height:

Afterward, my fellow alum's housemate received a call from his mother, who invited us to join her at work, which happened to be Christie's. So, we headed on over, and I was able to receive a tour of some of the art that was up for auction. At this point, I ought to point out that I am quite possibly the worst art critic of all time. To be fair, I feel I can appreciate the intentionality of a piece, as well as the amount of time and thought that went into its production, but I am utterly lost at recognizing the relationship between a particular piece and the art world as a whole, both in the historical and contemporary sense -- you know, the critical aspect of art criticism. So, while I honestly felt that most of it was quite good, some pieces -- like the formaldehyde-preserved sheep that had been cut laterally, such that you could walk between the halves and observe its innards -- left me like this:

After Christie's, we all went our separate ways: the boys went back home, but I decided to swing back to Trafalgar to see the fireworks display. Unfortunately, the weather situation had not improved all that much, and given the lighting contrasts, my iPhone-camera just could not stand up to the situation. However, I was able to snap these few pictures beforehand, so that you, my loyal readers, could get a sense of the spectacle:

Once again, Admiral Nelson could not be bothered to turn around (egotistical putz). Still, given the weather and the onset of the evening chill, I couldn't really blame him.

All in all, though, despite the weather, my Chinese New Year in London was a great experience. Here's to next year: Gong Hei Fat Choy!

Oxford Reloaded

My program took a trip to Oxford this past weekend, so I decided to upgrade my previous entry with some new pictures for your visualization pleasure.

The first part of our tour was in the the all-research All Souls College, the only one of Oxford's 38 (!) constituent colleges that does not house undergraduates. Instead, researchers are invited to apply to spend time there either as teaching or non-teaching fellows. A member of the University of Iowa College of Law was one of the latter scholars currently in-residence, so he gave us a tour of the college and gave us a lecture on English legal history. Given the familiarity of the architecture, I took the opportunity to be nostalgic about my undergraduate days.

The statue at the end of the hall is of William Blackstone, the 18th-century jurist who wrote the enormously celebrated "Commentaries on the Laws of England" that was highly influential in the young United States. Indeed, the Commentaries were the first methodological treatise on the common law since the Middle Ages, and in layman's terms, no less. Because of the novelty of the Commentaries, they were effectively the first law school supplements in the English-speaking world. (Unsurprisingly, contemporary traditionalists hated it and thought it inimical to proper learning of the common law. Shocking, I know.)

We next had a tour of New College, which is ironically one of the oldest constituent colleges of Oxford. Here you can see a portion of the old city wall of Oxford. Apparently, part of the original arrangement between the city and the university is that the mayor of Oxford must be allowed entry into the college every three years to inspect the wall. The most recent inspection was in 2011, a latest occurrence of a tradition that dates back to 1379. Unfortunately, we were not allowed to inspect it ourselves. Maybe next year.

As I made my way through the same grounds that once housed men like the eminent philosophers A.J. Ayer and H.L.A. Hart, and William Archibald Spooner, inventor of the spoonerism, I could not help but feel a twinge of sadness as well as a somber respect for their memories. Also, I bring up Ayer to mention that he once saved Naomi Campbell from Mike Tyson. At age 77. True story: the details are hilarious, look them up.

The capstone of our tour was a look at the Bodleian Library, the university's main research library, which holds more books that any other library (save the British Library) featured a very impressive courtyard...

... as well as the former entrance to my favorite school of learning.

Alas, so ended the official tour of the esteemed university. However, in a town as ancient as Oxford, there are always discoveries to be made. For example, did you know the oldest pub in Oxord, The Bear, was founded in 1242? In other words, the same location has been fueling camaraderie, debate, and intellectual engagement for nearly 800 years. Not to sound too Hegelian, but when the Weltgeist stares you in the face like that, it might be time to grab a mate, order a pint, and allow yourself to align with the zeitgeist. Which I did.

Cheers.

A Journey of Discovery

Sorry for the delay, I have gotten very busy over the last week ad a half. So, to make up for it, I will endeavor to write a few posts all at once and then begin posting on a more regular schedule in the days to to come. With that said, then, today's topic will be surprises.

A few weeks ago, I decided to take a trip down to the London Science Museum, because I am that special kind of inquisitive fool who thinks a museum would be a solid way to spend a Friday night. [Insert cutting sarcastic remark.] The trick was, however, that I would be getting there within an hour of the last entry time. Thanks to the glorious system that is the London Underground, I arrived a half hour beforehand, so the entire walk from the South Kensington Tube station I was feeling pretty pleased with myself. Unfortunately, at the time I arrived, the Museum was amidst some sort of emergency that required the attention of the fire department. Everyone had been ushered out and no one was being allowed back in until the authorities gave the say-so.

Needless to say, I was a little upset by this turn of events. However, I decided to make the best of it, and head toward a site that I had not, as of yet, seen: Trafalgar Square. So, using my handy-dandy Google Maps App, I decided to walk and take in a different part of Greater London. Now, as fair warning, I was still learning where things are in relation to each other, so the rest of this post will basically be the equivalent of "clueless foreigner stumbles upon obvious places," but in my defense, I am a clueless foreigner.

I began my sojourn as by heading north from the Museum on Exhibition Road, towards Hyde Park. Since London is so far north and the days are still short, I was unable to see much of the Park itself. And to be honest, I didn't actually spend very much time alongside it either, as I took Knightsbridge Road toward the west. Along the walk, I was able to witness a great variety of shops and luxurious hotels, including several embassies. This picture is fairly representative of the general architectural style of the area:

As I made my westward, I came to a turnabout that turned into a large park. So, after crossing the turnabout, I made my way through the park on its well-lit sidewalk, just kind of wondering what this would all lead up to. All of sudden, I looked to my right and saw... Buckingham Palace! Apparently the route I had chosen took me through Green Park, which people with more of a clue than me probably know surrounds the palace. As I made my way past the palace, I was able to see through the trees and see the glowing clock-face of Elizabeth Tower, which houses the famous bell Big Ben (though, of course, most apply that name to the entire structure, but the name really only refers to the bell.) Since I saved my trip to Westminster for another day, those pictures will be up in another post.

Leaving the palace grounds, I noticed that there was a glow emanating from beyond a flight of stairs to my left. Intrigued, I decided to make my way up the stairs and investigate. Perhaps an opening night for a new show? Or even a parade?, I thought to myself.

As I got closer, my curiosity grew and grew, because I saw none of the signs of either hypothesis that I had previously thought up.

By the time I got to the source of the light, it finally hit me where I was.

PICCADILLY CIRCUS! I was fairly entertained when I made my tremendous discovery of such a famous locale, especially since I had had no idea that I was anywhere close to it, let alone how close it was to Buckingham Palace. But, there it was, in all its quasi-Times-Square-like glory. Of course, I still hadn't made my to trafalgar Square, so I took a quick walk south of Piccadilly to the Square. I had been told it was one of the best views in London, so I decided to see for myself. Here's what I saw:

After all that, you might think that I was done for the night. Nope! In fact, I was trying to get back to Piccadilly for some more exploring, but I happened to see that the National Gallery surround the square, and unlike the Science Museum, it was open. So, I popped inside for a look. As it turned out, I had arrived in time for the final guided tour of the night, so I was able to appreciate some of the most famous pieces in the Gallery, including Hans Holbein the Younger's glorious double portrait "The Ambassadors" and George Stubbs' striking "Whistlejacket". Unfortunately, no photography was allowed, so I was unable to capture anything for you, dear readers. Fortunately, though, the Gallery was hosting a reception for its patrons that, so I was able to snap a picture of a different work of art -- a very refreshing Samuel Smith Organic Lager:

After the tour, I made my way back up to Piccadilly for one last look-around. I was able to take a brief glimpse at London's Chinatown before I decided it was time to head back to the flat. Although my night took an unexpected turn almost immediately, it turned into one of the best nights I've had here so far, as it illustrated the breadth and variety of possibilites one can have in this (sometimes maddening) city.

That's all for this post. Check back soon for more updates.

On to Oxon

This past Thursday, I decided the re-indulge in my favorite hobby (academic elitism) and decided to take a small trip to a very old school, namely, the University of Oxford. Recognized as one of (or perhaps just) the most prestigious universities in the English-speaking world, Oxford often needs no introduction. Indeed, one can hardly hardly even say the name without affecting a slight accent.

Because of the city of Oxford's close proximity to London and the commuting needs of local Britons, a double-decker bus service known as the Oxord Tube shuttles tourists, students, and the gainfully employed alike between the two cities. (As a slight aside, an intriguing difference I've noticed between US cities and London is that, whenever space is tight, there is a greater tendency in the latter to look vertically for spatial efficiency, rather than horizontally-- or, as the case seems to be in NYC, giving up.) While I mentioned previously in this blog that I would try to shy away from doing anything too touristy there are some things that transcend the mere touristy and go straight to the heart of sublime experience. Also, I wanted to sit up top. See:

After a very relaxed hour-and-a-half drive, I disembarked and found myself in a city that was fused together with pieces from different centuries, at once ancient and contemporary, ponderous and bustling.

Incidentally, I felt rather at home on campus, as the architecture very closely resembled my own alma mater's, albeit without using labor drastically cheapened by the ravages of the Great Depression. Being the old philosophy hand who has kept up his interest in the subject even through the past few years, I was also eager to vist the philosophy department, a venerable faculty consistently regarded as among the finest in the Anglophone world. Though no one was in since term had not yet begun, there was an air of quiet dignity that surrounded the building, possibly due to the subtle grandnesses of the faculty building itself, or possibly the fact that I desperately wanted to be professionally affiliated with that department. Or, you know, random fountain statue:

One thing that deserves mention is the Tesco I ran into for a quick bite. Tesco is the largest supermarket on the English food scene, functionally the British equivalent of Wal-Mart, in relative terms of both size and possible evil. There are also smaller, bodega-sized Tesco Expresses that dot cities, though Oxford had a full-sized one, that featured the huge variety of unique, pre-made, take-away sandwiches.

Some of my favorite examples have been tikka masala; chicken and sweetcorn; houmous and carrot chutney; and my personal favorite: egg, bacon, and sausage with a ketchupy mayonnaise. I was able to snag one as well as a pain au chocolat, a chocolate-filled croissant that I fell in love with the first time I went to Europe way back in 2003. All in all, a solid, Britishy snack.

After touring around the city a little more -- including its very impressive, four -floor Waterstone's bookstore -- I decided that I had had enough of Oxford for a while. I found my way back to the Tube, and bade goodbye to Oxford. For now.

Bloomsbury, the Musuem, and PUDDING

Sorry for the delay since my last entry, but I had some very boring, non-tourist-related things to take care of over the last few days. Anyhow, to my next topic, which will be a sort of situation of where I am living for the next few months.

The area of London in which I reside is called Bloomsbury, part of the Borough of Camden, and is noted for its long association with the arts, literature, and especially education. The district lent its name to the Bloomsbury Group, which included authors Virginia Woolf and E.M. Forester and economist John Maynard Keynes, among others. Here is a glimpse of Bloomsbury Square Gardens:

My previous post was but two of the institutions of higher education within the district; others are the University of London, the Royal Veterinary College, the School of Oriental and African Studies, and the hilariously named London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine. No, really:

Additionally, the British Museum is located within the district, a short walk from my apartment. Being the sort of person who adores history, I decided to pay a visit to the venerable institution, which welcomed me full-on all its architectural grandeur:

Even inside, facing the central atrium, the effect diminished not one bit:

After quickly scanning the galleries, I made my way to the one that most piqued my interest. Now, some reading this blog might assume that I would have headed to the Greeks, which is reasonable given my fascination with philosophy and the examined life. However, my absolute, hands-down favorite historical period is...

THE ANCIENT NEAR EAST! How can you not love that era? Seriously - this was the period was right after the dawn of civilization, but just before the events in the Bible. Really, it's humanity just after history began, and it's right as History is beginning to take over in terms of the mythology that indigenous peoples are crafting for themselves. In other words, this was the time of Gilgamesh: as you can see in the above photo, cuneiform is up and rolling; literature is just beginning to develop; and the hero archetype is becoming ingrained in a political/dynastic sense. Simply put, it's just a really cool period in human history. Definitely deserves closer study, especially if you want to recontextualize your understanding of the Old Testament. Oh, and because people go nuts over the ancient Egyptians, here is a mummy, I guess:

As much as I do love the ancient Near East, I also had to make a stop to visit my friends the ancient Greeks, such as my good friend Bacchus, god of ecstasy (not the drug):

As well as my philoso-bros, Socrates, Antisthenes the Cynic, Chrysippos the Stoic, and Epicurus the... Epicurean:

All of the galleries were pretty magnificent to be honest. There was an especially nice exhibit on Native American culture and one on the emerging Islamic world, though for some reason I decided not to take any pictures, possibly because I am a horrible aesthetician. The other possiblity was that I was very hungry for delicious British cuisine. So, I made my way to a nearby pub, the Shakespeare's Head, to see what was cooking (and brewing). Once I arrived, one item immediately jumped out at me: the eternal bugaboo of British food: snake and pygmy pudding:

Okay, steak and kidney pudding, but come on, the local rhyming slang is priceless for this sort of thing. To be honest, I was a little unsure about this decision ,even as the plate was set down in front me. However, fortified by a pint of (passable) Abbot Ale, I decided to dig in, and the only word that can really describe it is: savory. Way, incredibly savory. The pudding itself was encased in suet, and was very hot. Not going to lie, I can totally see where people would not immediately reach for this dish, but I decided to go one through it. Overall, it wasn't terrible, but it is unlikely I'll order it again. Still, I did it, and for that, I am proud (I think).

That's all for this entry. Stay tuned for next time, when the elitism might rise again!