Waterloo Sunset

Some more recollections of what I did exactly one year ago, in 2008, in London.

April 24
If I had to pick the quintessential London song, I would have to say the Kinks’ “Waterloo Sunset.” It became kind of my anthem during my London trip. Part of the lyrics is a literal ode to London life—Terry and Julie meet every Friday in Waterloo Station (it’s both an Underground Station and a regular rail station. It’s incredibly busy). On a more general level, the lyrics tell of how one can be “alone” in the city but never feel alone or afraid: “But I don’t need no friends/ As long as I gaze on Waterloo sunset/ I am in paradise.” I felt exactly like that in London. I was in paradise and never felt alone. It is truly a wonderful song.
That day in London I took the opportunity to take a bus over Waterloo Bridge to Waterloo Station and listen to the song all the way. It was, for once in London, a cloudy day. I started off ready to explore a certain area around the river. I got off the Tube at Embankment station, when it began to rain. I ducked into a café for lunch (sausages and mash). It was still raining, so I found a bus to take me over the river to Waterloo Station.
The station was absolutely teeming with people going every which way, catching trains to other parts of London or other parts of England. Until a few years ago, they could also go to different parts of Europe—the Chunnel came and left from Waterloo, another example of the British sticking it to the French. It was truly incredibly busy, but it didn’t have the frantic feel that Penn Station does. And I just stood and people watched and listened to the song that should be London’s anthem. I watched people and wondered where they were going or coming from. You know those slow-motion circumference shots used a lot in music videos? (Like Madonna’s “Ray of Light.”) I felt a lot like that. I turned slowly around and felt that the rest of the world turned much, much faster. I had slowed down my own life and so I could better appreciate the speed of everyone else’s lives.
I then found my way to the Imperial War Museum and got to experience both a WWI trench and a WWII air raid. London provides many world-class museums completely free to the public, including the War Museum, the British Museum, and the Tate Museums. I then made my way to the National Theatre complex on the South Bank of the Thames, which looks like a monstrosity of concrete from the outside but houses an unparalleled series of theatrical venues.

April 25
Sometimes I actually had to do stuff for class in London. That day I had to go to the Victoria and Albert Museum to see an exhibit with the rest of the class. The V&A, as it is known ‘round London, is a great museum if you like furniture and wallpaper and drawer handles. I do not happen to like any of these things. London has a museum for whatever fits your fancy. However, they tend to be quite maze-like. You can get quite lost in these museums, although not in a good way. I had been going along extremely well for four whole days without getting frustrated or mad. At that point, four days without a trace of anxiety looked like a record for me (soon to be surpassed by my next idyllic week in London). I got lost in the museum and became frustrated. Eventually I escaped and made my way to the National Theater complex again. On the way, I passed by the Royal Festival Hall. I peeked in and found that the program for that night included the Elgar Cello Concerto. I happen to love, love, love the Elgar and I play it very well, if I do say so myself. Just another example of the flowers and fruits of English culture!

April 26
As it was Saturday, I had the entire day to myself, free from the constraints of class. I decided to go to one of my favorite places in the world: Westminster Abbey. On my first trip to London, Westminster Abbey had simply blown me away and bowled me over. I simply could not believe how much history and beauty existed packed into tiny corners in the Abbey. Every inch of stone and floor tells a story—some sad, some triumphant, some incredibly important to the world. Both Elizabeth I and Geoffrey Chaucer are entombed in the abbey.
I can hardly explain Westminster Abbey to someone who has never walked through it. The walls have inlays of carved monuments to people long dead, who may have had importance in some far-gone century. Antechambers extend off the main paths, holding relics, beautifully carved stone and gold statutes, and sarcophagi of kings and queens. Coats of arms emblazon the choir stalls. The Chair of Edward, the official throne of Britain, stands roped off, and the humble wooden chair stands in marked contrast to the explosion of ornamental excess around it. All British monarchs have their coronation in Westminster Abbey, and as I approached the chair, I tried to walk regally, my head held high, and imagining myself as a queen approaching her crowning.
You could spend days, literally days, in Westminster Abbey and not discover all its wonders. The Abbey produces in me a sense of awe at the weight of history. We often study history from a distance, but in the Abbey you can literally see history stretching out right before your eyes in stone, glass, and wood. The actual stone contributes to my feeling of awe. I rubbed my hands many times on the cold, hard stone. The flagstones on the floor actually have troughs worn into them, which makes one think about how many feet have trod them. Despite the incredible crowd of international visitors (I like to play guess-the-language at places like these), I tried to imagine myself in the 16th century walking the hard stones in service of god and country. I did this particularly well in the cloisters. I’ve never been a religious person, of course, but walking through those sunny cloisters made me feel that in such an awe-inspiring place drenched in significance, I would enjoy religion and faith.
I don’t know how else to describe what makes the place so awesome and awe-inspiring. Maybe it defies explanation—something within the high, vaulted ceilings seems to speak to the infinite. In these times of materialism and instant gratification, of television and the Internet, Westminster Abbey harkens back to a time of God and beauty and truth. Some of that presence still lingers. In a world of concrete and aluminum, seeing miles of marble makes me pause. You get the feeling that unlike so many things today, Westminster Abbey was built to last—to endure. The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier still has fresh flowers on it, a testament to a time in which wars actually meant something.
My absolute favorite place in Westminster Abbey is, of course, Poet’s Corner. Poets have stones in the floor or busts placed in alcoves. William Wordsworth looks at you from one ledge, while William Blake looks up at you from the floor. The presence of Poet’s Corner suggests that in England, poets stand right alongside kings—that words have the ultimate power and deserve a sacred space in our places of worship. I support that notion 100%. Where else in the world celebrates poets so visibly? Here I actually took off my shoes and stood barefoot on T.S. Eliot and Percy Shelley, trying to absorb some of their energy and talent. My favorite stone belongs to Dylan Thomas. Under my feet I could feel the etched lines of the two best lines of his poetry: “Time held me green and dying/ Though I sang in my chains like the sea.”
Westminster Abbey happens look just as beautiful on the outside as it does on the inside. I examined the beautiful stones and spires, took many pictures, and then walked past Parliament (the Abbey and Parliament are right across the street from one another). I then wandered over to Buckingham Palace, where I saw some more ridiculously beautiful tulips and the outrageously over-the-top monument to Queen Victoria, where I listened to the Kinks’ amazing song, “Victoria.” It really should be the national anthem, with its updated, pro-Empire happiness.
Not contented yet with images of the Empire, I made my way to Wellington Arch. An iron statue of Victory stands atop the Arch, a reminder of the glory of the Empire. Westminster Abbey, Parliament, Buckingham Palace, Victoria, and Wellington all made me feel extremely patriotic for Britain. I’ve always considered myself an honorary Brit, and I for one do not think that the British should have to constantly apologize for the fact that for a while there, they were simply better than every other country on the planet. Sure, Britain has given the world some very unfortunate things. But Britain has also given the world some very, very good things. They should not have to apologize for doing what every country wants to do: rule the world. So all in all, a very patriotic day that made me very aware of history.