Before I partook of the magic that is Shakespeare, I met up with my friends Temi and Adele to go shopping. Temi asked me to meet them at the Camden Town Station, but me being me, I confused it with Convent Garden Station. Still not quite sure how… Anyway, once the mixup was sorted out, I hopped the next train and met up with them. We began at Camden Markets just north of the city center, perusing the aisles of items that had “fallen off the back of a truck.” Reaching a mutual decision, we pressed on to the Westfield Shopping Centre a.k.a. the biggest mall I have ever been in.
I had been here during the week, sorely damaging my bank account in my fervor. I had bought so many clothes and new pairs of shoes that my arms ached the next day from carrying them all. So I trotted along behind Temi and Adele, content to be graced by their company. It being Saturday the mall was packed with people. Because of this, I only had enough time to purchase a couple pairs of chinos from UNI QLO before I had to leave in order to make the show in time. It was probably for the best… As previously posted, Much Ado About Nothing was fantastic. I went to bed a happy, if tired, camper.
I spent a lazy Sunday morning watching Harry Potter in preparation for the big day and doing the Latin homework that I had been neglecting for the past two days. However, I rewarded myself on Monday for being so studious by paying a visit to St. Paul’s Cathedral. I had been last year, but there always seems to be something you miss, particularly in such a big place. I climbed to the top of the dome and took some incredible photos of London and used an app on my iBrick to take a 360° panoramic photo. I was quite impressed with the quality of the photo.
After climbing down, I stopped in front of the memorial to John Donne, one of the greatest English poets of the Early Modern period. He was also Dean of St. Paul’s from 1621 until his death in 1631. While standing before the memorial, reverently paying my respects, a small group of people approached. They stopped to read the plaque above the statue and one of them proceeded to ask, “Who the hell is John Donne?” I was torn between being heartbroken and angry at the ignorance of such a fool. He could have easily listened to the free audio guide hanging about his neck, but no. He was content to walk through the cathedral oblivious of the wealth of history it contained. I very waspishly informed him of John Donne’s greatest deeds and a brief history of his life, probably answering his question with more detail than he desired. I then moved on.
After a short walk northward, during which I came upon the remains of the London Wall, I headed for Bunhill Fields, a cemetery for Nonconformists from the 17th to 19th century. Daniel Defoe, John Bunyan, and William Blake are buried here. It is a beautiful cemetery in which the noise of the surrounding area immediately seems dampened once you have passed the gates. I lingered here for a while, but the hours of the day were speeding quickly away.
I returned to the flat to cook dinner and do my homework. The next day, after cruising at light speed through even more Latin grammar, I spent the early afternoon working on my homework as I intended to see Les Misérables with Temi and Adele. Adele wanted to see a show in London and neither of them had seen Les Mis, so off we went. I met them in Leicester Square and we walked toward Chinatown. After checking the menu of several restaurants, concluding that they would generally all be equal, we walked into one and sat down. The food was alright but a bit overpriced. We chatted away during our dinner, waiting for the show to begin. We ambled off to the theatre just before seven and took our seats.
The show was quite good but not as excellent as that which I had seen but a year before. I explained the plot to Adele during intermission who was having a bit of trouble following the lyrics of the song laden performance. Following the standing ovation, we exited to find ourselves on a side street confronted with several large signs for a gay bar. Being that we were in Soho, this was not a surprising sight, but we pressed on as the oily men on the poster were distracting Adele. We parted ways at Leicester Square Station, I to walk back south across the bridge to Waterloo and they to catch a train north. Quite an entertaining evening.