London

London. Fast paced and expensive. Like full-on sprint. We had running shoes on and had to keep to the geriatric lane. Construction of competitively modern architecture has nearly washed away the rich history and feel of the city. This city makes you hemorrhage money (thanks for the warning Forrest). Tube tickets, entrance fees and eating out were ridiculously priced and with the pound at $1.44 it was excruciatingly painful. For example, one ticket to the following: Westminster Abbey, $29 , The Eye of London $31or St Paul's Cathedral, $26. Arriving a day late, after a 27 hour delay in Oakland due to plane malfunctions, we were grateful for the money this late arrival saved us.

The first time I was at The Tower, it was actually a large, grey cement building with stairwells stained with the stench of urine. I was quickly befriended by one of the male staff, and because I was a trusted lesbian patron (refer to blog post, A Thought), he confided that the male staff (not so much he, in his stoutness...see Guiness) compete for notches on the bedpost. One staffer in particular was far ahead of the rest, of course he was the one I had my eye on, that is if I were into men. We were strictly NOT to use the Tube after dark to get to the hostel. We could call for a staff escort. My ass, "escort", I took my chances with the murderers and other such Underground riffraff. Okay, not really, I was in my room by 6pm, eating a chocolate bar (see stoutness).

In 1997 I do not recall paying an entrance fee to Westminster Abbey or St. Paul's Cathedral. I didn't even pay for the candle I lit for myself, asking the dear lord to make me attractive to the opposite sex. It could have been my remnants of a catholic upbringing - similar to the force, I just walked up and the doors opened. Or maybe it was "12-year-old boys get in free day".

I have a fascination with beheadings. I am in awe that these were coveted public events. I sit in judgment of those who attended, but yet find myself drawn to stories of beheadings and hangings. Particularly Anne Boleyn. So instead of drinking the sponsorship monies (thank you Uncle Bob and Aunt Cleatus) we spent two hours at The Tower of London.

For me this was completely worth the $73 (this does not include a champagne brunch or a crown jewel parting gift) to walk the same grounds as queens, kings and "oops, maybe we shouldn't have killed that person" also know as Saints Thomas More and Henry Walpole. You can see beautiful drawings and writings preserved on the walls made by the prisoners. The site is steeped in history and lore, with a side of torture and sadness. It is not, however, still steeped in blood...I looked, it's been cleaned up nicely.