Today started off with the most amazing breakfast I have possibly ever had. Of note were the mushrooms, which were simply fantastic and attained an effect I have never been able to achieve in my many months(i would not be so bold to say years) of culinary inquisary. The Orange Juice was a little odd, but it is what it is. When then hurried off to Embankment to catch a boat. After taking a few pictures of Big Ben when got on the boat where we were bombarded with 80’s pop music and our own personal singer to boot, which was also amazing. When we got off the boat we wound through a few streets, being mocked by a grandmother at one point, until we came to a park. The park, although hilly, seemed to be populated by several dog owners and surprisingly little else. When we finally arrived at the top of this ginormous hill we had arrived at the meridian line and a few museums.
I had read the time article on the plane, and thus retension was not at the highest it has been. Nevertheless, it was neat to apply some of the ideas I did remember. I’m sure this line will get old very quickly but as a cultural anthropologist in the making( in itself a paradoxical statement of anthropological perportions) I am always intreged to look into another cultures life– see how they view the world. There is no better way to do that than through the value people put on time and the control people try have over it. The british are quite obessive when it comes to keeping time, and it has a lot to do culturally with what they consider as proper behavior. As a whole they consider utility of human existance, I believe. A person who isn’t working with the machine is working against it. Londoners walk briskly whereever they go, and scaff at those people who prefer the more leisurely stride. Of course this is a hastey observation and one that needs more field research to verify. But it should also be noted that the pace at which people speak is also indicative of how they consider time and the importants they weigh on it. One example that comes to mind is that of the southern drawl: a slow methodic pace which is found in the agrarian areas of the South, a place(at least at one point) where time was based around harvesting.
But i digress. The planet show was amazing, much better than Dickinson’s and the guy was a lot funnier than my astronomy professor. We went to a pub for lunch to get finger food, which i seem to be eating a lot of lately, and I had the Scrumpy Jack. On the whole I think I prefer the Scrumpy Jack to the Strongbow, but again further research is required. I think a lot can be said about a cultures food and alcohol. If anything you can learn more sitting in a pub than sitting in a museum. In a museum everything is there for a reason, there are no blemishes unless they are put there on purpose. But in a pub or market, you get everything: you get the bad, the beautiful, the bacalonious. And I think that is more important than any historical thing, but then again I’m not a historian.
We traveled through the tunnel under water which uneventful for the most part.
Going along with two statements ago, we decided to venture into Camden Town to search out a proper english pub. We ventured off the main road and into the Good Mixer, where we found much hussle and bussle. We also found Captain Jack Sparrow. I tried yet another hard cider although i did not know the name of this one from all the noise– sadly it is my favorite thus far. We chatted a bit on the different perceptions tied behind alcohol, comparing good old D’son to that of London. No Natty light, to my grave disappointment (I guess Guiness will just have to do). I also realized why there were less drunk people around in London than I was used to seeing in Philly was because alcohol was so damn expensive you couldn’t afford to get pissed.
Anyway, cheers
