"Vienna" is spelled E-X-P-E-N-S-I-V-E

I'm catching up on posts, finally. Rather than writing this from Paris, I'm tucked away in a quiet (ish) corner of the Frankfurt train station, waiting for the next train to arrive. Thanks to the fact that the first train got in an hour early, and that I wasn't feeling wealthy enough to pay for a couchette, I'm quite short on sleep...but since I have to change trains twice and won't arrive in Paris until nearly noon, hopefully I'll be able to nap some more on the way. We'll see.

Vienna was really neat, although I could do without the 9 euro entrance fees for every single museum. And that's with the student discount! The regular entrance fee is actually higher. Being a bit of a museum person (I know, you probably hadn't noticed), I found that those ticket prices started to add up pretty quickly...and maybe I was just in the overpriced tourist section of the city, but it was nearly impossible to find anywhere to get food for less than 6 or 7 euros. A lot of places started closer to 9 or 10 euros.

On Wednesday, I set out intending to find the Spanish Riding School. I may have sort of gotten distracted by an interesting-looking museum instead. And yes, museums still look interesting after spending the better part of Tuesday inside them. I think that the title of the museum translates as something like "fine arts museum," but that's more of a guess than anything else. All I know is that they had a nice section of Greek and Roman antiquities...so I don't care that much what it was actually called. :)

After that, I actually did tear myself away and go find the Spanish Riding School. Also the palace where the Kaiser used to live. I got a ticket for the Morning Exercise with Music and a guided tour for Thursday - without a ticket basically all you can see is the gift shop. You can sort of crane your neck to see into the stables, because some of the stalls are built facing the central courtyard, but horses in stalls spend about 80% of their time with their butts to the door.

Since there wasn't much to see at the Riding School, I went and toured the Hofburg instead. At least, I think it's called the Hofburg - it seems to be called about six different things as well. But if I remember correctly, Hofburg was one of them. Anyway, they have what has to be one of the world's biggest collections of plates there, all set out on display. As part of that, they have one of the world's largest silver-gilt services - 4500 pieces. And despite it being so massive, it sometimes wasn't big enough, so apparently they would use saffron  to color dishes from their silver service to match when they needed more settings.

There were two other exhibits there. One was the Imperial Apartments - the Emperor's and Empress's rooms - and the other was an occasionally rather cheesy and over-dramatized exhibit on the Empress Elizabeth. The rooms themselves were very impressive, though, and very sumptuous.

After that, I walked around looking for someplace to get cheap food. It's harder than I would have thought - most of the places near the tourist attractions are sit-down restaurants. Still, I eventually found a little bakery and got some kind of sandwich. I don't remember what it was called in German, and the lady behind the counter didn't speak enough English to describe it to me...it definitely had a pickle in it, and some kind of meat which might have been ham, and what looked like egg salad. It was a bit odd, but not all that bad.

On Thursday, I saw the Morning Exercise, then went over to the Neue Burg for a while because I had a couple of hours to kill before the tour of the stables. Yes, the Neue Burg is another museum. Part of it is called the Ephesus Museum, and holds artifacts that were excavated from Ephesus. Apparently Austrian archaeologists have been at work in Ephesus for several decades.

There was also a massive exhibit on antique instruments, although I found myself a bit hampered by my lack of understanding of German. It's frustrating sometimes to be looking at something and see "Ludwig van Beethoven" on the card, but not be able to figure out any of the other words...but I took some pictures of some of the ones that looked like they might be interesting, and I'll see what Google Translate can do for me later. I also wandered through part of the exhibit on arms and armor, which was also fairly interesting.

After that I went back to the Riding School for the guided tour. We weren't allowed to take any photos in the stables, which was frustrating. I can understand the restrictions during the performances, but I'm not sure why they need to be so restrictive in the stables. At one point, while the guide was talking, I "met" one of the stallions, who sort of introduced himself. There was no touching allowed, and the bars were too close-set for him to put his nose through anyway, but he hovered on the other side and watched me quite intently and listened when I talked to him. His name was Pluto Briosa II, and he was four years old and a beautiful dark rose gray...

That's about all there is to tell, really. It's a good thing I haven't had my fill of museums yet, since there's still the Louvre...

Florence (AKA "Cari is too tired to come up with a clever title")

I can't quite seem to catch up on posts - I wrote about Geneva from Florence, and now I'm writing about Florence from Vienna. Part of the problem is the lack of accessible internet - I was under the impression that I would be able to connect to the free wifi at McDonald's, but it turns out that McDonald's in Italy requires you to sign up for an account, and the sign-up process requires you to have an Italian cell phone number so that they can send you a text message with your password. 

Of course, having to buy a SIM card to get access to a hotspot kind of defeats the purpose of "free" internet. Why couldn't they let you choose a password, or show it on the webpage? Or, for that matter, why not simply make you agree to terms and conditions, the way McDonald's does in America? Some things in Europe are much more sensible than they are in America, but others...

Enough about internet, though. Florence itself was very enjoyable. The historical area of the city is a bit of a tourist trap, so it's probably not the most authentic Italian experience. On the other hand, there's a very good reason why Florence draws tourists like a magnet - it has one of the greatest collections of Renaissance art anywhere in the world, and it just happens to also be one of the great cities where the Renaissance took place. There are museums and sculptures and churches at every turn, it seems like.

Unfortunately, pretty much every museum in Florence is closed on Monday, so I wasn't able to see the inside of anything much on the first day. Instead, I took the opportunity to walk around and see more of the city from the outside. I walked from the hostel to the Duomo, which is a massive Renaissance church-and-baptistery-and-belltower complex. All of the buildings have exteriors done in colored marble - the baptistery is green and white, while the cathedral and the belltower are green, white and pink. The church actually was open, but there was such a massive line to go in that I decided to wait and see if I could find a time when there were fewer people around.

From there, I walked to the Palazzo Vecchio, in the Piazza della Signoria. This was the historical center of government in Florence, and the spot where Michelangelo's David used to stand (before it got moved to a museum). There's a replica of the David there now, but it can't even begin to compare to the detail and beauty of the original. More on that later.

The Uffizi Gallery is literally right next to the Palazzo Vecchio, and is the most visited museum in all of Italy. (The second most visited, the Galleria dell'Accademia, is also in Florence, but in the other direction from the Duomo.) It was closed, like all the other museums, but I wandered through the courtyard and admired some of the statues of famous Italians - Machiavelli, several Medicis, Vespucci, and any number of names that I didn't recognize.

The Uffizi, in turn, is next to the Arno River, which flows through Florence. I walked across the Ponte Vecchio, which really ought to be renamed Jewelry Bridge...seriously, both sides of the bridge have shops built on them, and every single shop sells jewelry. The windows upon windows of gold and gems look almost as if they belonged to a single massive store, but they don't. Apparently the story behind that is that one of the Medicis got tired of having to smell the tanneries and other nasty industries that were on the bridge, and ordered them relocated and the goldsmiths put in their place. In his defense, he did live on one side of the bridge and work on the other, so I can see how the smell would have gotten tiresome. 

I walked past the Pitti Palace on the other side of the Arno, which was the Medici private residence. (If you're thinking the Medicis show up a lot, you're right. As far as Renaissance history and art are concerned, the Medici family kind of is Florence.) From there, I walked to San Spirito, which is another church. The piazza by San Spirito is a lot less touristy than some of the more central areas of Florence, so it was a nice break. There's a little outdoor market there, and some shops around the piazza that sell food. I got ciabatta with mozzarella, tomatoes and pesto. In Italian it would be mozzarella, pomodoro e pesto; I'm about 90% certain that pomodoro is a contraction of pomo d'oro, which would mean "golden apple."

After that, I bought my train ticket to Vienna, which in turn raised some issues with my debit card. Since it was terribly hot anyway, I went back to my room to get that straightened out and rest for a while. (Siestas make much more sense now...) I got the debit card issue taken care of, thanks to some tag-team on Skype and the least possible amount of international calling.

Tuesday was the Epic Museum Day. Rather than skip museums or cut back on how much time I spent in them, I decided to go ahead with everything I particularly wanted to see and just cram it all into one day. This is what makes me a nerd instead of a normal person. And for the record, it was most definitely worth it.

The two museums I wanted to do were the Uffizi and the Accademia. These museums are so busy that pretty much every website recommends making reservations two weeks in advance during peak tourist season, and one week in advance at any other time. The end of September is sort of borderline between peak season and the so-called "shoulder" season, or in other words, still very busy. Tuesday is also the busiest weekday - only weekends are worse. People without reservations sometimes stand in line for four or five hours to get inside.

Now, after about an hour online, I couldn't quite understand why anyone was standing in line for any amount of time. The wonders of Google revealed an awful lot of online reviews on tourist sites, and while I wouldn't necessarily trust a single review, when multiple reviews offer the same insight, I think it's a good idea to pay attention. And the one thing that reviewers kept saying was that you could usually make same-day reservations for both museums in person, without standing in line, and go straight inside at a specified time.

It's true, by the way. The Uffizi opens at 8:15. I was there at 8:30. I walked into the reservations office, and there were about five people ahead of me in line. (This despite the fact that the line outside the non-reservation entrance probably already had 150 people in it, and that the sign by the entrance said in English that you could make reservations at door #2, and the next available reservations were that day. You would think the sort of people who visit art museums would be able to read.) I paid extra for a reserved ticket, but I'd rather lay out an extra 4 euros than spend 4 hours in line. And what's more, I got a reservation for just 45 minutes later. As far as I'm concerned, that's a good deal any way you look at it.

I walked up to the Accademia to see if I could do the same thing, but I didn't have the time to make a reservation right then. The tourists there were a bit savvier and there was already a substantial line outside the reservations door - but they appeared to have completely ignored the part of the sign where it said that you could make reservations for the Accademia at three other nearby museums. I tried the closest, but their computer system was down, so I put it off until later.

Back at the Uffizi, there was practically no line in front of the reservation door. Even though my ticket was for 9:15, I actually got in at 9. I then proceeded to spend three and a half very enjoyable hours going through the Uffizi at a nerd's pace. Think "snail's pace," but slower... :) I spent a long time just in the one room with Botticelli's artwork. I suspect the Louvre will compare favorably, but most other art museums will probably seem like a letdown after this. Not many places have the equivalent of the Primavera and the Venus in the same room.

Then, of course, there were paintings by Raphael. Michelangelo. Leonardo da Vinci. Andrea del Sarto. Pick a Renaissance painter of your choice - they quite probably have something by him. One thing the Uffizi does not have is a lot of Renaissance sculpture - it used to house a number of important sculptures, but they have since been moved to other places which I ran out of time to visit.

After leaving the Uffizi, I got lunch. After lunch, I got gelato. Hazelnut gelato, which is the best kind. Then I walked towards the Accademia. The non-reservation line was even longer than it had been in the morning. I don't understand what kind of crazy person stands in line for four hours in the hottest part of a Mediterranean day, even if it is to see the David. I'm not that dedicated, and that's really saying something.

Since I'd already ruled out one of the three other museums, I decided to try the next closest one, which was the Archaeological Museum in Piazza Santissima Annunziata. On the way, I sort of got distracted and went into a convent. I wasn't quite sure what it was, but it looked a lot cooler than the piazza - and it turns out it was also a lot quieter than the piazza. I don't know if it's just because the walls were thick, or what, but it was a nice relief. 

After that, I did find the Archaeological Museum and made a reservation for the Accademia. Unlike at the Uffizi, there was absolutely no line here. I walked up, paid for the ticket, and walked away with a reservation for 45 minutes later. I hung out on the shady side of the piazza for a while, then walked back over to the Accademia and got in the (very short) line for the reservation entrance. Just like at the Uffizi, I actually got in before my reserved time. 

The Accademia is a lot smaller than the Uffizi, but I still spent about an hour and a half there. Probably a good half hour of that was just looking at the David. Even though everyone says that it's bigger in person than they expected it to be - even though I'd already seen a full-scale replica - even though I knew how tall it was - it was STILL bigger than I expected. The workmanship on it is absolutely marvelous, and the detail is stunning. There really isn't much else to say, except...it's the David. And it was worth the 15 euro ticket all by itself.

The Accademia also houses a number of Michelangelo's unfinished statues. One of them is a statue of St. Matthew, four are from a group called "Prigioni" or Prisoners, and the last is a Pieta which may have actually been done by someone else. The Prisoners are especially interesting, and have been the subject of endless academic debate as to why exactly they are unfinished. They were commissioned by the Pope as part of the decorations for his tomb, and were intended to symbolize the struggle of the soul imprisoned in the flesh.

I sort of eavesdropped on a tour guide, who said that there were a bunch of different theories as to why they were left unfinished. Michelangelo couldn't see how to finish them. He decided to leave them unfinished as a "statement." He was traveling so much during that part of his career that he simply didn't have the time...Oddly, the one theory that the guide didn't mention was that he stopped working on them because the commission got canceled (which, according to the placard, it did). It would be perfectly understandable, I think. But I suppose that theory is too boring and sensible...

Anyway, it is interesting to see some of his work unfinished. It calls to mind the saying attributed to him, that he could see the form in the marble and was working to free it. Considering that, the title of "The Prisoners" becomes all the more ironic. In their own way, the sculptures are as individual and personified as the David, even though they're far less detailed. Maybe it's because they're defined enough that even the ordinary eye can see the struggling form in the stone.

Oddly, it's all but impossible to imagine the David half-finished, still only roughly shaped out. I don't know why that should be. Yes, David is finished. But it seems like it shouldn't be quite so hard to picture the process.

Another highlight at the Accademia is their collection of musical instruments. They own a Stradivari cello, a Stradivari viola, and two Stradivari violins. The cello and viola were part of the "Medici Quintet." There were a number of more exotic instruments there, too, including one that I'd seen played at the Globe and hadn't recognized. It turns out it's called a serpentone - it's made out of one long, winding piece of black wood and gets progressively wider towards the end. They also had hurdy-gurdies and some rather exotic-looking wind instruments, and a zither made of marble - apparently it's actually playable, although it doesn't sound quite as good as the wooden kind.

In a separate room, they had an exhibit of several harpsichords made from various valuable woods and a very early pianoforte. One of the harpsichords is extremely rare because it survived to the present completely unaltered, unlike most of the harpsichords the maker built. It is the only one in the collection that hasn't been restored, because it's currently undergoing extensive research in the hopes of revealing more about its maker's techniques.

After I left the Accademia, I walked back towards the Duomo and got more food. The sandwich wasn't all that good, and it was overpriced, but I didn't feel like walking far enough to find someplace cheaper. I also had a little tart (tortine) with a rice custard filling, which was quite good. The cafe where I was eating looked straight out towards the line for the Duomo, and right as I was finishing up, I noticed that the line had practically evaporated. Turns out it was 15 minutes to closing time, and most of the people who had been waiting just gave up...

So, as it turned out, I got to go inside the Duomo after all. It's absolutely massive inside, and the dome that is the source of its nickname is covered with intricate frescoes. If you pay extra, you can climb the 400-odd steps to the top of the dome, but it was a bit late for that, and I was tired enough that I was pretty sure I wouldn't be up to the climb anyway. 

Basically, in the space of a single day, I managed to see three of Florence's biggest sights without standing in line for any of them and without any real advance planning. And all of them are notorious for their long lines, too. I guess the moral of the story is, research pays off...

The other St. Peter's - and Swiss chocolate

I'm posting this from Florence, even though it's about Geneva. The hotel where I stayed in Geneva was supposed to have free internet, but it wasn't working properly. Internet here is working, but it's too slow for me to upload photos just yet.

My flight landed in Geneva around 5pm. The Geneva airport has a very nice system where you can get a free voucher for public transportation that's valid for 80 minutes, so the train ride from the airport into the city didn't cost me anything. From the main train station, I walked to the hotel. I had reserved a room at a 1-star hotel (they actually have those in Europe), but when I got there, they told me there had been a problem with my room and they were sending me to their other hotel, which was a 3-star hotel, for the same price. Talk about a nice surprise.

Most things were closed that evening, but I did go out and walk down to the lake for a while after I'd gotten settled in. There's a massive fountain there called the Jet d'Eau which is one of the largest fountains in the world - Wikipedia says it's 229 feet high. I walked partway out onto the jetty where it's built, but the wind was blowing spray in that direction, and I decided that I would rather not get too wet. It was hard to get good photos because it was growing dark, but I did my best, and hopefully some of them will come out well.

The next morning, I went to the Cathedral St. Pierre de Geneve, or the Cathedral of St. Peter in Geneva. I find it a bit ironic that the Vatican cathedral is also St. Peter's, especially considering that John Calvin dubbed Geneva the "Protestant Rome." (St. Pierre's is where Calvin preached his sermons.) The two cathedrals are very different. I visited the Vatican when I went to Rome back in January, and found it strangely oppressive, whereas St. Pierre is mostly just dignified. It's interesting to me how old buildings seem to have moods of a sort - I think the architecture contributes to it somewhat, and probably a lot of it is just my subjective impressions. Maybe I have an overdeveloped sense of history...

I spent most of the morning at St. Pierre's, because there's a lot to see nearby. The church itself wasn't open to visitors in the morning, so first I visited the excavations under the church. There has been some sort of Christian building on the site dating back to at least the year 350 AD, although that building was an oratory rather than a church. The first church was built in 380 AD. Since then, it has been a process of adding, demolishing, and rebuilding to reach the present church, which was built gradually between the 12th and 16th centuries. Many of the ruins under the present building have been carefully excavated, and the archaeological site has been turned into a museum open to the public. The excavations in some places have reached the first layer with indications of human habitation, several centuries before the birth of Christ. In one place, archaeologists found the grave of a Merovingian chieftain, and nearby the partial skeleton of an adult horse.

I spent just about an hour in there, which is not bad for me. That left me with about 45 minutes until the cathedral itself opened, though, so I spent some time in the International Museum of the Reformation, which is housed in a building next door to the church. Most of the exhibits were only in French, and the audio guide wasn't working very well, so I felt like I didn't get as much out of it as I could have. Still, it was very interesting. They had one room with replicas of early printing press equipment showing how the process would have worked, and a lot of old books. Most were (again) in French, but there was one that was a catechism printed in Greek and Latin, so I could actually understand that. Admittedly, all I could see was the title page.

There isn't a whole lot to see within the cathedral itself, although it was lovely. The style in the main cathedral is much simpler than a lot of the cathedrals I saw in Rome, but I prefer that to the heavily adorned churches, especially those done in the Baroque style. Interestingly, though, there was a small chapel on one side which was decorated much more ornately, in a Neo-Gothic style. It's called the Chapel of the Maccabees, and it was initially built as a crypt for a private family. It now has pews and a pulpit and its own organ, separate from the one in the main cathedral.

The last thing I did was to climb one of the two towers. The cathedral has a north tower, a south tower, and a steeple in between them which houses the bells. It's quite a climb up a very steep and narrow spiral staircase to reach the top of the north tower, which is the one I chose. That tower overlooks the lake and most of the city, although the south tower apparently gives you a good view of the cathedral bells. Before I started up that staircase, I thought I might climb both of them, but the climb up to the north tower changed my mind. The view was fantastic, though.

It's funny, but no one ever talks about it being difficult to climb down a spiral staircase. Going up is tiring, but going down is actually a lot more intimidating if it's steep enough. Add to that the need to carefully control each step, as well. It may not be as physically difficult as climbing up, but it's a lot more difficult psychologically. And the spiral staircase up to the north tower is so narrow that they've actually installed a red light/green light system to let people know whether or not they can start, because it's literally only wide enough for one person at a time. Each step was probably about 10" high, and not more than 10" deep at the very outer edge. In the center it narrowed to about 2" deep, and it narrowed so quickly that you basically had to put your feet as close to the outside of the staircase as possible, one in front of the other. It was enough to make me a little bit dizzy, and I'm not usually too bothered by things like that.

After that, I looked for someplace where I could buy Swiss chocolate. Unfortunately, it seems like all the stores in Geneva are ferme a dimanche - closed on Sunday. That's one French phrase that I think I'll be able to remember, after seeing it so many times... I finally found a little stand that was selling a lot of touristy junk and some Swiss chocolate. It was probably a ripoff, but the chocolate is excellent, so I don't really care. I got one bar that was milk chocolate and one that was milk chocolate with hazelnuts, and I'm eating it very slowly. Well, comparatively slowly. With luck, it'll last until I get back to Oxford... The hazelnut chocolate is probably the best chocolate I've ever tasted, so the fact that I've only eaten three of the ten little squares counts as positively miserly. Right?

After that, I picked up my backpack from the hotel and went to the train station. It's a good thing that I left extra time to pick up my ticket (I'd made a reservation online), because Cornavin Station is in the middle of extensive construction, and the regular ticketing office was all boarded up. I don't know why, but no one thought it worthwhile to put up any signs to point hapless tourists in the right direction...so I wandered around the station for almost 45 minutes, asking people if they knew where it was. Most of them didn't. One sent me back to the main area, saying that surely there would be signs there (there weren't - and I did check again). No one appeared to obviously be a railway employee, and the signs for police took me down a dead end. In the end, though, I got on the train with nearly 20 minutes to spare. At least the trains were easy to find.

In all that hurry, though, I forgot to get lunch. Once I was settled on the train, I didn't really want to go off and buy food, so I had two squares of chocolate and the water left in my water bottle for lunch. Chocolate may not be the healthiest meal, but this chocolate at least was comparatively filling. It held me over until I reached the station in Milan, where I had to change trains. I got...something...for dinner there. I sort of just pointed at a thing that looked good and paid for it. It had some sort of meat and cheese in it, I know that much. Whatever it was, it tasted good.

As one final and slightly random side note, whoever came up with the idea of charging for restrooms ought to be dumped in a strange country with no change after six hours on a train...a euro to use the restroom is outrageous. Or at least I think so. There was at least one Tube station in London where they charged for the restrooms, but it was more like 30 pence, which isn't quite as bad.

I got to Florence without further incident, and the hostel where I'm staying is just a few minutes' walk from the train station. It was dark by the time I got in, so I didn't see much of anything on the way and my sightseeing in Florence didn't really start until this morning. But that's a subject for another post.

The best-laid plans...

As luck (or Murphy's Law) would have it, Greece is in a bit of a turmoil again. Public transit workers have been striking over new austerity measures, which would make it exceedingly difficult for me to get around.

So instead, I'll be using the first half of my plane ticket but not making my connection, which will put me in Geneva. From there, I'll be taking trains to Florence, Vienna and Paris. It's not Greece, but still, it's not so bad. And this way I'll be able to get Swiss chocolate...
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Just a couple of random photos...

On New College Lane, looking towards...some building that is south-ish of New College. It might be the University Church of St. Mary...but I can't tell.

This is the one of the entrances to New College (the one on New College Lane). There is another entrance on Holywell (pronounced Holly-well) Street, which is much more imposing, but I happened to be close to this one. It's very quiet back here, to the extent that you can really almost forget you're in a city. The very occasional car does come down the lane, but it's quite rare - mostly just bikes and pedestrians. It's far enough from the main streets of the city center that the whir of bicycle wheels sounds almost noisy.

And this is just a fortuitous good shot of Christ Church College, or at least one of its buildings. I walk past Christ Church almost every day, and it's always pretty, but the light this evening was just spectacular.

London: Photos

The Tube.

The Imperial War Museum.

This bus was converted into a troop transport vehicle during World War I. Afterwards, it served as a bus for several more years before being retired.

The "Tamzine" was the smallest boat used in the evacuation from Dunkirk. It was used to ferry men from shallow water out to the larger boats.

This is a shell from the largest gun ever built.

A German V-2 rocket.

Speaking of Dunkirk, this accordion has a neat story with it. One of the soldiers, Alexander King, was offered a chance to evacuate in one of the earliest boats. He refused, and stayed on the beach playing his accordion to keep up the spirits of the other soldiers until everyone else was evacuated. His exploits earned him the nickname "The Mad Hatter."

There was a whole exhibit dedicated to the merchant navy, which suffered higher casualty rates than the actual navy during the two World Wars. This display was about one particular ship that was sunk by a U-boat during World War 2. Most of the crew drowned, but 14 men escaped on a raft. Unfortunately, they had no way to steer it, so they were left drifting in the Atlantic waiting for rescue. 12 of the 14 men died before they were found, and the two survivors had been adrift for 50 days by the time a rescue team reached them. The scraps in the display are pieces of sailcloth that they used to keep a log on the raft.

The British Museum.

The Rosetta Stone.

And of course, me with the Rosetta Stone.

This is either the Mausoleum of Halicarnassus or a different mausoleum that was also in the museum. I don't remember which. The Mausoleum of Halicarnassus was one of the seven wonders of the ancient world.

Speaking of ancient wonders, although it's not one of the seven...this is a section of the frieze from the south side of the Parthenon.

This is one of the metopes which was placed around the outside of the Parthenon. All of the metopes in the British museum are from the south side, and depict the mythical battle between the Lapiths and the centaurs. Most of the figures on the metopes are missing their heads - the heads that belong to these two are currently in Denmark, having been appropriated by a Danish naval officer for his own private collection several hundred years ago.

This is a computer-generated reconstruction of the same metope, based on laser scans of the heads and the metope and a couple of artistic sketches made when the metope was in better condition. There are indications that all of the metopes were painted, especially because they were high on the building and the additional contrast would have helped the viewer see more detail. However, the color scheme here is just a guess - we don't know what the actual colors were because the chemical traces aren't strong enough.

Another metope. This one used to have two figures on it, but the Lapith was carved in such high relief that it was broken off at some point. We do have an older sketch showing the Lapith still in place.

These fragments of statues used to stand on one of the two pediments - the triangular sections on the short ends of the Parthenon. This pediment showed the contest for Athens between Athena and Poseidon. Poseidon is second from the right, and Athena is third from the right. The figures on either side of them are probably Poseidon's wife Amphitrite (on the right) and Hermes (on the left).

Finally, a metope that still has the heads attached. Actually, this metope is astonishingly well-preserved, and the display didn't say why.

These are the statues from the other pediment, which showed the birth of Athena. Legend had it that she sprang fully clothed and armored from Zeus' head. Even though most of the statues are relatively complete, the two central figures of Zeus and Athena are missing.

Lord Elgin didn't take all of the Parthenon's carvings, but he made plaster casts of the ones he left behind. As it happens, this is fortunate for researchers today - these casts show the friezes in a much better condition than they are today.

It's strange, but I didn't enjoy seeing the Elgin Marbles as much as I thought I would. Maybe it has something to do with them being at eye level, or being so removed from their original surroundings - I don't know. I can't help but appreciate how much better-preserved they are than they would have been otherwise, but at the same time, they seem completely out of their element.

This is a vase in the Geometric style, which was characterized by highly intricate (you guessed it) geometric patterns. The picture doesn't capture a lot of the tiny, precise details which are visible in person.

These are Cycladic figurines. Most of them were found in graves, but because the civilizations of the Cycladic islands left no written records, we don't actually know very much about them. However, the style influenced later artists such as Picasso.

From the Assyrian section: a replica of a wood and bronze gate built by one of the Assyrian kings. The doors are made of wood and fastened together by intricately detailed strips of bronze. The original bronze pieces are displayed on either side of the gate.

This is London Bridge. It was pretty boring, really.

The Globe!

A view of the stage from where I was standing. The girl in the front of the picture is actually leaning on the edge of the stage, which gives you an idea of how close I was.

The seating around the edge of the theater. When it started raining, I couldn't help but think how nice it must be to not have to stand in the rain...but then again, the stage isn't completely covered either, so the actors got wet as well.

The Tower of London, from the outside. It's actually a lot of towers. The tall part that you can see towards the right side of the photo is the White Tower, I think.

The White Tower as seen from inside the walls. Oh, and me.

There were Yeoman Warders all over the place. The front of their uniforms says E II R, which I assume means Elizabeth II Regina (Latin for Queen).

This monument stands near the original scaffold site, where a variety of interesting historical characters were executed. The top layer has some of their names, including Anne Boleyn and Lady Jane Gray; the lower layer has a poem inscribed on it.

This is Traitors Gate, the water entrance to the Tower.

I didn't stay for the whole "raree show," but I did take a couple of pictures. This was before the guy started extolling the benefits of warm crocodile dung as an anti-aging cream...

"You're MAD!" (Actually, I kind of agree with her.)

I don't think I would have even noticed this monument if it hadn't been for the exhibit at the Imperial War Museum...I saw it as I was leaving the Tower to find lunch.

St. Paul's Cathedral. No photos from inside, unfortunately, because photography is prohibited.

"Feed the birds, tuppence a bag..."

I took this photo from inside the churchyard, which was lovely but rather crowded.

And this is a view from the street as I was leaving. It almost looks surreal in the photo...

The London Eye.

Westminster Abbey.

More Westminster Abbey.

Some other building.

Big Ben.

The end!