London Calling

Today was our first full day to be let loose into the City of London. After seeing almost no human beings for over a week in the Highlands, I'm struggling with some sensory overload. Our dorm (which is dismal at best) is located near Tottenham Court Rd, a busy city thoroughfare. Good for convenient tube transport but bad for peace and silence. After beggining the morning with a truly fascinating breakfast, our group set off to visit the Royal Geological Society to see the first geological map ever written. Along the way though, we made a pit stop at Buckingham Palace. Be still my heart. I love the Royal Family and make no excuse for my admiration. While I don't think that I qualify as one of those oddballs who collects tea towels bedecked with pictures of Will and Kate, I couldn't contain my excitement at seeing the royal banner fluttering over the top of the palace, indicating Her Majesty's current location. Meep. Unfortunately and perhaps hypocritically, I must note how much I dislike the enormous swarms of tourists in London and in front of Buckingham Palace. There is no need to continually take picutures of yourself sassily posing with a royal guard or a statue of Queen Victoria. Your not really that interesting of a picture subject, and it also seems a bit rude especially with how (indulge me in a stereotype) Italian act like war memorials are monkey bars. Trafalger Square was not erected for your personal amusement, thank you very much. Okay. Sorry. Rant over.

Anyways, the geological maps from the early 1800's were extremely large on the scale of ten feet tall and are quite impressive since I can't even draw a regional geologic map that doesn't look like kindergarden scribble. Dr. Harris led us to some other small touristy things like Piccadilly Circus and the city's largest/tackiest gift shop. But my main highlight of the day arrived with our visit to Westminster Abbey. Another small tourist rant. Apparently most of the Abbey's visitors have no idea how to behave with some shred of diginity within a working church. Yes. There is zero need for you to try and snap pictures of a priest serving Eucharist. Also, take your hat off. Yeah. I'm talking to you, Yankees fan. Tacky. Ill mannered tourists aside, the Abbey remains my favorite thing about today. Walking on the stones that have supported the weight of over 700 years of monarchs, statesmen, poets, scientists, military heroes, and counless other people gave me a new appreciation for the real scope of that chruch's role within England. I once heard one of our priests from Canterbury Club describe the experience of visiting St. Peter's tomb under Vatican City and how amazing it is that however many years and lives have passed, someone always remembers the story. In that same way, the worn floors of Westminster reminded me that the world has changed countless times since the first church was erected in that spot. Yet through it all, there has always been someone to tend it so that the memories of the most famous of monarchs to the lowly, unnamed soldier buried beneath wreaths of poppies will endure beyond the fleeting span of a human life. And that's why you should take your hat off when you walk through those doors. It's a small gesture, but surely it's the least you can do.