London Calling: Part 257 Steps? Okay, Just Kill Me Now.

Because of the non-stop snoring from the night before I was operating on maybe 2 hours of sleep and zero patience. I’m surprised I was able to keep my mouth shut. The five of us had breakfast at the hotel. Matt and I were excited that they had cooked to order omelets. Then we went to the National Gallery. I spent a good amount of time looking at their collection of impressionists, but I really couldn’t enjoy much else. I’m not a fan of realist paintings, or the extremely religious ones which make up the majority of the collection held there. I tried to keep my distance from our group. I was quite sure that most of the art was entirely wasted on them and I wasn’t going to be able to tolerate their comments. It was almost too much when Grandmother started commenting on the medieval clothing depicted in a painting of the birth of Jesus. “I just don’t understand why they can’t get the period right. They should be wearing Middle Eastern clothing, not English garb.” I can’t believe how literal she has to take everything. She even had to continue arguing the point even after I told her that the painting was commissioned by a church who probably specified what was in it. Let’s all just pretend to be open-minded right?

Matt was able to find the self portrait of Rosa Salvator with the quote he fell in love with the last time we were there. AVT TACE/AVT LOQVERE MELIORA/SILENTIO “Be silent, unless your speech is better than silence.” Just another twist on the familiar saying of “If you don’t have anything nice to say….” Funny how long people have been dolling out that advice…and ignoring it.

Ron made a huge deal about going to St. Paul’s cathedral. Matt and I are so uninterested in churches. I enjoy the architecture, but we both found out quickly that they are all pretty much the same inside; dead people, creepy paintings on the ceiling, blatant hypocrisy. None of that is anything to waste our time on. Ron had to tell us all on random useless things about the place. Some of it may have been interesting if he could have told us in a way that didn’t make us feel like we flunked out of school. My feet hurt so bad that I thought about just cutting them off and just when I thought that I would get a break from the agony I was forced up 257 steps to the whispering gallery. I wanted to die. When we finally reached to the top I got the spins, not something you want to have when your inches from falling to your death. Matt, Cait, and Ron quickly continued up another 127 steps that led them outside the cathedral’s dome where they took photos of the city. When they rejoined myself and Grandmother (who had barely said three words to me while we were alone), Cait and Matt decided to try out the famous tale about the gallery. It’s said that the acoustics are so good that a person can stand on one side of the gallery and their whispers can be heard by someone standing on the opposite side. This is true, but today one has to cup their hand and aim their whispers directly into the wall in order for it to reach across the dome. It instantly cheered me up when a whispered ‘I love you’ reached my ears from Matt.

When we were all finally outside again Grandmother and Ron wanted to visit the gift shop, which happened to be at the bottom of yet another set of stairs. I stopped at the top of them, threw my hands up and declared “I’m out.” Matt took the opportunity to grab a Starbucks and Cait came with me to get some British soft serve from an ice cream truck that was parked nearby. I couldn’t believe how creamy the ice cream was. I could hardly eat it all. It was fun sharing the experience with Caitlyn. It’s not every day that you get to have ice cream in London with your sister-in-law.

Matt and I were hoping to be heading north to our house in the early afternoon, which would have worked out if Grandmother hadn’t insisted on finding a pub or café to have drinks at near the cathedral, and if she and Ron hadn’t insisted on taking the city bus back to the hotel. Instead of it taking 5 minutes on the tube and a short walk to the hotel, we were on the bus for a good half hour (if not more) in rush hour traffic. When the bus finally stopped in the vicinity of their Hilton Matt, Cait, and I all sprinted to get to a bathroom. Once we had collected all our bags from the luggage counter it was still another 2 hours before we reached the bases. Because it was rush hour the tube was crowded and we all stood for most of the 40 minute ride to Epping. I could tell that Grandmother and Ron weren’t pleased, but it was totally their fault. It took a lot for me to not tell them to stop complaining. This whole visit has pushed me to the brink of insanity through self inforced silence.  They joys of family.