Hyde Park, Victoria & Albert, Mine Housing, Thrift Stores, Fabric Stores, Antique Stores, and Varied Other Business

Get ready kids. This will be a long one. Here is a short list of what went down, and then we will go into detail. I went to Hyde Park, to the Serpentine Gallery in said park, wandered around by the Royal College of Music, tried to find where I will be living, got sort of lost in Kensington/Chelsea,(delightful, try it sometime) finally found the address, went to a thrift store, went to a fabric store, found an adorable little antique store that was closed, and bought Jelly Babies. I am now at my leisure eating said babies. They are deeeelishus. Here. Here are some pictures.

This was last night: I was just amused by the difference in the view from me window at night vs. morning.

Here's where I am currently staying, thanks to an awesome uncle. :)

Now we come to Hyde Park. This is not a little playground park we are talking about here. This is a PARK. A park where you could disappear. A green, luscious thing in the middle of stone and steel and concrete.

Allow me to remind you we are in the middle of a city of about 8 million people.

PIDGIN. being a pigeon. Like a boss.

There are enormous amounts of birdies. They get ridiculously close to you, make lots of noise, and are generally companionable and delightful. Later I will upload some little scribblings of them, after I color them, and you should all help me figure out what kind they are. I have guesses, but am not a birdwatcher.

This is not the greatest picture, but it immediately made me think of that bit in the Aristocats "Amelia! BOTTOMS UP!!!" ah. ha.

Not only do they have a neato park, they let you let your Irish Wolfhound run around without a leash. I now want a dog. There seems to be an unreasonable amount of beautiful dogs in this joint.

This was a little place in the park called the Serpentine Gallery. As you can see, it has a lovely enclosed garden, with a general air of peace and welcoming. The park made me think again about why design is delightful and powerful.It affects how people interact. The whole of the park seems to beg you to either sit/walk and enjoy the world around you, or bring someone else to enjoy it with you, and commune with them. It's lovely.

See?

Here is a memorial to Queen Victoria and Prince Albert. I'm not sure what the official name is, but it's imposingly beautiful.

In case you cannot see, the inscription reads so: "In memory of Albert, Prince Consort."

The gate/fence merited a picture all to itself.

Guess what? elephant butt. In all seriousness, can you sculpt an elephant? I carn't.

Great socks, sir. I have noticed this great thing here. Unless there is a sign prohibiting what you're doing, you can do what you please where you please. I'd want to take off my shoes after a day in a suit....

Royal Albert Hall.

I would like one of these on my doorstep please.

Dear chimneys, you are so cool. I can't get over you.

More Albert, and the Royal College of Music.

This I have noticed: They are picky about where you park your bike. Understandably. Also, I want to be called Head Porter. How enjoyable would that be.

No detours here. No. They are DIVERSIONS. That reminds me, there must be another post too, LE LIST DU DIFFERENCE. a list of words. That are different. I want to see how many I can get.

They do not, however, mince words. Do we have these in the U.S.? I've never looked.

And just GUESS what this is. This is my future neighborhood. It is absolutely charming. There are posh little shops and hordes of chic people with dogs and clean snazzy sneakers. The Londoners, they have very nice sneakers. Sometime I will sit around and take pictures of unaware people's shoes, and make a post out of it.

If they were not police, I would steal their hats.

Here we are. Home sweet home. This is where I will live. I'm still pinching myself.

One walks down the street and sees gardens like this, with perfectly manicured paths and kids on tricycles behind the wrought iron and the hedge. I refrained from photographing said children. Duh.

May I have your dog. Thank you.

So I had to further pinch myself, because walking distance from my house is a FABRIC STORE. forget all this trucking-myself-to-Roseville-for-three-hours business. I looked at it, thinking oh, cute little place, prolly not a huge selection. HA. Here is what the basement/hidden next door room look like.

I pretty much wiggled with delight. The prices aren't awful either. And they have Liberty remnants. YES.

And this is a stroll down the block. I shall perhaps go in sometime.

Finally, kiddies, I went to the wonderful, enormous, free Victoria & Albert Museum. It is but a step from my current lodgings. I have made a pact with myself, that before I leave London, I will see everything in it. It will have to happen in installments: I only got through most of the first floor today. As you will see, they allow photography. This place gives me the same vibe as Hyde Park, richness of beauty for everyone, as long as you are courteous. All this incredible art (or nature, in the park's case) is waiting for you to enjoy it, there for the asking. All you have to do is walk in. Enjoying it so much made it really painful to walk past the donation box without putting something in, but all I had was a 20 pound note. Anywhoo. picshures.

I will do my best to recall what sections this stuff was in.

Southern Asia, I believe.

People, this is a hat. A turban rather. Nice, no?

This is the courtyard in the middle of the museum. Kids play in the fountain, though not today: was too cold.

He looks like he wants you to join him. No thanks, sir, never been too much of a necrophiliac.

And here's some stuff from the Medieval/Renaissance bit.

Need I even say who did that magnificent last one. The inimitable Dale Chihuly, derr.

I was just about to take a picture of the carpet on the half-hour, when it's lit for a few minutes, when the guard informed us that it was closing time. oh well next time.

All that was from the Islamic Middle East section. As you probably already know, they were not supposed to represent people, hence the ridiculously gorgeous abstract/geometric patterns.

And here is my favorite. It made me realize that I need to be paying attention to the history of this city, not just my first impressions.

That's what flawed perfection is, right there. On that note, goodnight.

-Lu

I feel like a little time-traveler, and this template is urrrgly.

I shan't lie, waking up to dawn over Iceland is fairly cool. (yes, I listened to Sigur Ros. What else. I was listening to Takk, and just as the song picked up the clouds parted over the coast. YEAH window seats.) Icelandair is my new favorite airline, except for the fact that they give you a menu of beautiful food that is expensive. Otherwise, they have the cuddliest blankets, and little lullabies on the pillows, and wish you a pleasant day after every announcement practically. Basically they're so Icelandically nice it hurts. If you got on here to read about London, be patient. I'm getting there. All the flight attendants speak Icelandic, and wear these awesome little hats.

Here are your facts about Iceland in a nutshell.
-They have the oddest sayings posted in their beautiful, quiet, entirely Scandinavian-looking airport.

For instance: "A single wave is seldom alone"
"He who has no brother is naked on the back" these interesting tidbits were in the security area, so for obvious reasons I took no photos.
-They apparently have this nice tradition called house reading, where one person will read aloud to the rest of the household in the evening. Don't know how much that still happens.
-Their prime minister is listed in the phonebook
-The national dish is cured shark
-The population is 300,000. That's less than MPLS. 60% of them in the capital.
-They have a children's book called Helgi Explores the World. They give the illustrations on postcards as coloring pages. I totally nabbed the one from the cute little Icelandic kid sitting next to me, as he left it behind, and was too busy watching the Simpsons to color it in.
-This is what it looks like from a plane. EVERYBODY LOVES PICTURES WITH THE WINGS OF PLANES/REFLECTIONS IN THEM.

-They produce awesome music. For instance, if you like lovely quiet music that's kind of angsty in the best way, I raise you Olafur Arnalds. And if you like the absolute opposite, that is, hardcore-ish music that's half instrumental, I recommend Swords Of Chaos. And Jonsi. He be the bomb. And, though I mentioned it already, if you do not listen to Sigur Ros, STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING AND GO. go listen.
-I also used the silly little in-flight store to find some of their fashion brands: Farmer's Market, 66 north, and KRONKRON.

that's enough of Iceland. Not bad for only spending two hours there. Don't judge, I was so excited to have a stop in that place.

LONDON is.........:). The tube is the greatest thing ever. And little kids with English accents are enough to leave you in a puddle of cuteness on the floor. They walk on the left. That took me a minute to get used to. Downside: hauling roughly 150 pounds of luggage through walkways and up stairs and through airports and over the inevitable, proverbial gaps between train and platform....is not fun. EVERYTHING ELSE IS AWESOME. everything, nearly, is old. All the little row houses have little back yards with walls and big old chimneys like in a Dickens novel. Also, I must note: People here have style. I can't walk three yards without wanting to compliment someone. I cannot tell a lie: the dudes in particular have a much higher percentage of stylishness than anywhere else I've ever been. Also, this is an enormous city. I know that's obvious, but when it takes you awhile to hurtle over it in a plane, you know it's big. Here. picture.

Honestly, there is so much going on here that pictures are the best way to give you the feel BUT i have no neck strap for my camera, so I'm going to go make one, and my adventures tomorrow will be more pictorially described.

Smooches,
-Gyp

A Watchin' of the People

I have been meaning to record this. One day, perhaps a month ago, I drove past the large bus stop in downtown St. Paul between the library and the Landmark Center. There was a woman standing there, rotund, obviously not completely with it, holding a can of Pringles. She appeared to be having a food fight with someone I could not see, behind the shelter. She would throw food, then skitter back, almost into the street, giggling. As I nearly have an accident trying to see what’s going on, she reaches the point of exasperation and chucks the whole can of Pringles at the offender. It is then that I realize she has been food-fighting with a flock of birds. She would jump back when they all jumped on the food, scattering it, which was why, from my viewpoint, it looked like a food fight.

(Another day)
Went to the Irish fair yesterday, oh my lordy. So many kilts. You ave your average pretty tartan kilt, your black heavy metal kilt with studs, pumpkin butt kilts, and last but not least. THE CAMO KILT. No one will ever notice you. Other observations: We saw our good friend shirtless-kilt,-and-lei man, eating fish and chips under a tree, muttering away and shaking his head. His kilt is green plaid, and we see him all over. He is present at Irish Fair, always, as well as the Harriet Island bandshell. If he weareth not the kilt, he weareth overalls with the straps undone, staying up most dubiously. There was also a pair of people in full Renaissance gear, King and Queen.

(YET ANOTHER DAY)
8/15/11 I had a good time on the bus today. There were these two silly women in the back. I may try to draw them later. There was no one else on the bus, and they kept pointing/staring. They were likely just talking with their hands, but it was funny because there was no one to point at besides me and the bus driver’s mirror. I will try to describe them before I forget. One was tall, everything about her was narrow, her skinny body, her hawk nose, her face. She had no glasses, but that kind of long, overbrushed, trying-to-be-curly hair that isn’t huge, but still makes you want to knit a sweater with it. Her khaki pants were a little bit above her natural waist, and her maroon Subway-style polo was tucked into it. It had some kind of work logo on it. She was wearing tennis shoes, and looked annoyed/nervous.
The other woman was the physical opposite, except for her hair, which was similar, pulled back in that half-medieval, unflattering way one associates with old-maids-to-be. She was round and staring. Her glasses were as round as her face, making her rather bulbous blue eyes look even bigger, and her mouth was disapproving and thin. She was wearing a blue t-shirt that fit her poorly, and I think jeans. She sat hunched into herself, always staring at something. They huddled together and talked in this funny, quiet, intent, almost angry way. For some reason it tickled me.

8/16/11
I just remembered a charming incident from way back when I worked at Perkins. One day, as I was waitressing, a man paid for an older woman’s meal. She did not look wealthy, though I don’t think she was poor. He told me not to tell her who did it, and then told me that he had traveled the world, and in every place he ate, he would anonymously pay for someone’s meal. He himself looked like your average blue-collar workman, not what you think of when you hear “travel the world.” Just goes to show, you never know till you’ve talked to someone. I wish it would rain: it looks like it, and nothing is as cozy or productive as rain. You feel like a bear all snug in your cave. P.S. It did rain: poured for an hour actually.

YESTERDAY
was sitting on the balcony, some dude walks by. Looks up, says hi. I say hi. He asks if I’ve ever heard of an eyeglass brand called Kate Spade. I have, so I say yes. He asks how much a pair of glasses would cost. I waffle. He says thanks and walks on.