London Pocket Museum

Whenever I am travelling, I find my pockets slowly filling up with things; memories from places I've visited, directions, notes, essentials, misc...

I have just returned again from a short stay in London, and Reading before then, where I visited Henley, Oxford, Windsor, and as many London museums and galleries as I could find time for. I finally returned to Leamington Spa late on Wednesday night, and this is what I found collected in my pockets.

I think this idea came from seeing so many curated collections of fascinating objects, making me feel like creating a little museum of my own in my pockets. (Even though this is from 7 pockets (jeans, jacket, coat, secret inside), it still seemed like a lot!)

Architecture

Hooray I just received my offer of study for architecture in second year (and beyond!). I will join 80 other students in our quest to dream up better places to live in, in all senses. Architecture has been on my mind especially after the most amazing tour through an incredibly reconstructed and preserved 'back to back' housing block in Birmingham. A 'back to back' I learned is what 75% of the population of Birmingham lived in in the late 1800's during the industrial revolution. They're basically terraced houses that have been cut in half so that one household is a single room deep, either facing the street or the shared inner courtyard. Each house was about three stories, with a tiny spiral staircase crammed in the corner of each.

Built one brick thick, nothing was very private. In fact none of the homes had a bathroom or laundry of their own, instead the whole 'court,' being the households surrounding the internal courtyard, would share a lavatory and wash house. The one I visited, Court 15, contained 11 households with a total of about 60 residents at any one time, maybe 500 in its lifetime, sharing three outdoor loo sheds and one wash house. Built early in the 19th century, back to backs were banned from further construction in the 1870's, due to health and moral concerns. However, because there was nowhere else to live for a long time after, the homes of Court 15 were occupied right up until the 1970's, when they were finally condemned as unfit for human occupation. Through some stroke of luck, Court 15 was forgotten by the demolition crews, and has become the sole surviving example of a back to back court in Birmingham.

A block of back to backs. Court 15 highlighted in red

Court 15. Each coloured square represented one household

The exhibition of them was so interesting. They had set up four houses exquisitely refurbished in the period decor of four unique families who had lived there, from the 1830's, 1870's, 1930's, and 1970's. Fires had been lit in the ranges, paraffin candles spluttered weakly, gas lamps hissed, old radios hummed, bloomers dried; it felt like each family had only just stepped outside a moment ago.

Loo's of 1830 and 1930

It was also very interesting to think about these small communities of cheap housing, and compare them to the social housing projects of today. Instead of living together socially, I feel like the visions of huge tower blocks promote a life alone. But maybe that is also partly a personal choice. It has also been interesting to compare Court 15 with "Kevin's Grand Design" in Britain here, an experiment in better community housing, where the idea of a shared internal space is returned.

Thinking about my own work, I've made a little film including examples of most of my first year projects in architecture school, because I'm not sure even my family really knew what I was working on at my desk in the night...

Sometimes it was tidier than this

Looking in such intimate detail through the reconstructed lives of four families living in each of these tiny back to back houses showed me that the places we live in are profoundly affecting.

Lucerne

We're up at 6:30am and onto the bus. The fog from the Netherlands had caught up with us again, and it rendered the German forests like a scene from a World War Two film, as they drifted past our windows.

The guys on the bus get excited whenever a flash car busts down the autobahn, overtaking us at 200km/h. Then we reach Switzerland! We head straight to the base of Mt Pilatus, where we jump on a gondola and then cable car as we ascend above the fog.

The gondola was very quiet, and we heard light sounds of bells jingling on the hills, as we floated overhead of swiss cows, producing swiss milk for swiss cheese. The cable car took us just short of the summit, from where we ascend the last few meters up a thin mountain path to the very top. It's a small distance in comparison to our mechanical journey up, but the thin air makes even the fittest of our group puff the 10 minute trail.

But the view was worth it

The air was so clear

As the sun set, we descend back into the fog, and to our hotel in Lucerne. It's a pretty town with a medieval heart, featuring a fantastic wooden bridge that stretched across the river that ran through the town.

I was also lucky to be in town during the week long piano festival, where I came across an exhibition of very lovely pianos that the local residents were playing (very well!)



As well as formal performances, the visiting artists also played informal (free) gigs at the local bars. I went along to one in a very polished establishment, where Chris Hopkins played improvised jazz.

That night I also came across a giant advent calendar!

After two nights in Lucerne, we were set to journey through the alps to Austria.

Rhine Valley (and Cologne)

We passed from the Netherlands and into Germany at about 10am, flying with the mist that felt like it might extend right across northern Europe, until we saw sunshine break through just in time for lunch in Cologne! The main feature of Cologne (for us) was the enormous gothic church, that at one point in history was the tallest structure in the world, from 1880 till 1884.

Being gothic, it was covered in incredible detail, that continued to grow as you moved closer and closer

Inside was a beautiful rainbow light cast from a modern stained glass window, composed of thousands of coloured square pixels

Excitingly, the christmas markets nearby had just opened that day! But by the time I saw them I was rushing to get back to the bus to continue our journey to St. Goar, our home for the night. Driving through the Rhine Valley during the late afternoon was very beautiful. The light atmosphere gave the landscape a great sense of depth

In the sleepy town of St. Goar, it reminded me of Marahau in Able Tasman, New Zealand. A tiny picturesque town on the gateway to magnificent natural beauty, and also to a highway of comercial and tourist traffic, flowing down the river, and in the air. The river was often thick with large barges of freight, and every time I looked up I was able to see at least 3 different jet planes arching overhead, painting the air with long strokes of contrails.

The main event of the evening was an atmospheric tasting of the local wine in an ancient cellar. The wine was white and dry to start with, becoming sweeter and sweeter until we sipped 'ice-wine,' produced from grapes that must remain frozen on the vine for a specific number of days before being picked. It was so sweet it was like apple juice. Finally we tasted the local mulled wine, warm and red and tasting just like christmas pudding. We meandered the short walk home and spent the rest of the evening in the hotel bar, mild with cigarette smoke (yet to be banned here), where I received an in-depth review of the law, constitution, and history of South Africa, from a practicing Durban lawyer on the tour.

Tomorrow, Switzerland!

Amsterdam

Travel Day. I wake up with a start at 5:09am with a txt from my sister that beeps under my pillow filling my head with beep. Bleary eyed (the guy in the bunk above me had plumbed timbres of snoring last night I hadn't even thought possible), but excited, I trundle into the dark and still morning, down the road to the Royal National Hotel, where our Grand Tour departs. I meet my fellow travelers for the first time, as we que to get our bags weighed, and then onto the bus and we're off! We were missing two South Africans, who it turned out were weather bound in an Airport and would have to meet us on the way. We thus learned a valuable lesson - the bus will not wait for you!

Driving out of London, we were introduced to our tour manager Ryan and our driver Pedro, with whom in time, all the women on the bus would fall in love with (and the guys too). A brief two hours later, we were at Dover!

The weather for the crossing was beautiful, with the sun rising over the distant coast of France, bathing the white cliffs in warm light.

We drive quickly through France and then Belgium, only stopping for a rest in a truck stop on the boarder.

Finally we arrived in Amsterdam, with our introduction to the local culture as "Ding Ding! Hallo!"

Amsterdam is an incredible biking culture, with bicycles pretty much having right of way to everything except trams. It was incredible walking down a street that had four clearly distinguished and signaled modes of transport; trams in the middle, then either side cars, bikes, and finally footpaths. Although most of the time, walking through the narrow lanes around the canals, the only thing you had to watch out for were bikes.

The buildings in Amsterdam were beautifully narrow and thin, like rows of bean-sprouts.

And of course we tried on the famous clog, at a place called "Cheese and Clogs."

But the most incredible place we visited in Amsterdam was Anne Frank's house, where she and her family hid in the attic for over two years.

This was her front door.

This is the attic window she would gaze out of. It was so still. It was also the only window that wasn't covered in thick blackout cloth, cloaking the rest of their house in permanent darkness.

The window into Peter Van Pels room (black). She would have been able to look out at this church clock tower from the attic above. One of the saddest things was she had started re-writing her diary, as a novel called "Secret Annex." In her diary she wrote "In my head it is as good as finished." I just wish I knew how she would have ended it.

Amsterdam also turned out to be a pretty funky place! As I was walking I passed this strange structure in the middle of the road.

That turned out to be a subterranean exhibition celebrating Super Mario, using space created by the continued drilling of the Amsterdam metro system (over budget, behind schedule, and still incomplete a taxi driver told me later).

Cruising down the canal, Amsterdam was very cold and misty, and very beautiful.

Next: Germany!

London

My Grand Tour left London early on sunday morning (I had to be there at 5:45am!) which meant I had to stay at least one night in London, so I decided to make it two and have a day in the city before I left. 

This was my first time to travel to the city by myself, and it was a little intimidating, though it helped having been there just a week earlier with Jeremy and Ed. I caught the train down in the morning after a nervous start (do I take the sleeping bag? do I not? does it weigh too much? am I taking too much?) I finally said goodbye to Fran in her little shop, gave her the keys to the flat and trundled to the train station. While my suitcase had wheels, it looked fit to bursting, and by the end of my 10min walk I was dearly hoping the Contiki Bus would drop us at the door of our hotels.

(On reflection I think my journey was a little Harry Potterish?, setting off unsure on an adventure to new and exciting places) Once I arrived and had dropped my stuff at the hostel I was staying at, I decided to visit Kings Cross, to see if I could see the famous platform 9 and 3/4. But... like most things in Europe, it was covered in scaffolding. Still, you could catch a glimpse of where it might be...

It was a fabulous day in London and I mostly hung out around Trafalgar Square until it was dark, visiting the National Gallery and National Portrait Gallery nearby.

I found dinner in a nice Italian place, where I had possibly the best hot chocolate ever (ironic now I think about, after the actual Italian hot chocolate I had in Rome was thick and syrupy and strange), and then went to a west-end show, the satire 'Yes Prime Minister.'

It was very dry and I'm not sure I got all the British political jokes but it was enjoyable. I was able to get half-price seats because I booked it the same day.

Squeezed onto the tube home, I realised that even though London is huge, once it is broken down in the people next to you, it becomes human sized. The girl changing music on her iPod, the man sharing a cryptic crossword clue with a friend, the gentleman who "didn't miss the tube at all."

The next day I got up early (thanks to the man in the bunk above me playing a fuge on his nose through the night. Such tallent...) and visited New Zealand House to vote before I left for the continent. Afterwards I had the bewildering choice of what to see first! I ended up at St. Pauls and walked through the tent city that formed part of the Occupy movement. There were lots of media there too, giving their sage commentary on the matter.

I then made my way over the Thames on the Millenium Bridge towards the Tate Modern, wondering at London's past, buried in the murky water below.

The Tate was spectacular, with a current exhibition featuring a huge projection of film negatives, that had been treated in a very colourful way. Inside the cavernous Turbine Hall, the images drew your attention like the monolith in 2001: A Space Odyssey.

My sister came down at about lunch time and we walked through the christmas markets on the South Bank, until we caught a tube to the Victoria and Albert Museum where we met Ed! There was an exhibition on China, which contained the coolest looking tea pots. They looked like something out of Studio Ghibli, where they might start to slither and walk at any moment.

This one with three legs was actually super old too! over 1500 years!

After dinner in Soho, where we had yum Hipster Vegan Vegetables, Fran caught the train home and Ed and I walked around in a vague sightseeing search for a Pub, and then I went to bed, ready for my big adventure the following morning...