London: Oct 29: Wellcome Collection

On Friday, October 29, 2010, I disappeared from work to visit the Wellcome Collection. I'd never heard of this museum before: it's not mentioned in any of my guide books, and I wouldn't have known about it without Di Yin mentioning it. (Perhaps I hadn't heard of it because it's new--it was established in 2007.) Its web page intrigued me so I decided to go.

The Wellcome Collection turns out to be a museum that looks at medicine, science, and health, their history, and art inspired by those things. Knowing this connection to medicine and health, I chuckle as the museum's motto: "a free destination for the incurably curious."

I first explored the exhibit Medicine Now. As you can guess from my description of the museum, the displays cover a rather eclectic range, including:

• an interactive exhibit that takes a picture of one's face and compares the features to that of an average face. It was interesting to see the ways in which I differ from most.
• a model of the body and a set of buttons for each organ. When you press a button, that organ lights up. I and another museum visitor thought the pancreas light was broken at first because we couldn't see it. It wasn't broken--it turns out the pancreas is only visible from the back.
• an interactive exhibit showing videos of fourteen-year-olds side-by-side with videos of the same people ten years later. It was interesting to see how the people changed both physically and personality-wise. (Their personalities came through in these videos despite them not saying anything, just sitting there in the video box doing whatever they wanted.)
• (art) a print combining echocardiogram measurements and topographic maps of mountains.
• (art) pills cut into the shapes of organs they're supposed to heal.
• (art) fMRI patterns put into three-dimensional crystal form.

The feature of this exhibit that I enjoyed the most was the audio recordings. I particularly remember a comedian talking about the changes his body underwent as a result of multiple sclerosis, a humanities professor watching medical students dissect a heart for their first time, and a journalist who got malaria. As you've no doubt guessed, these recordings, which are scattered around the exhibit, range as widely as the displays they accompany.

The exhibit also has sections on obesity, malaria, and genomes.

The other exhibit, Medicine Man, is more historic in focus. It has many objects and curios used historically in the practice of healing (effective or not). These objects range from masks (medical and shaman), glassware, chairs (birthing, etc.), artificial limbs, and old instruments (useful and not) to amulets, figurines, chastity belts, anti-masturbation devices, glass eyes, and memento moris. The curios (as if some of those objects aren't curios...) include a naturally preserved mummy (disturbing) and Darwin's walking stick. There's also an intriguing collection of 18th century (and earlier) medical prints (from around the world) that doctors used for reference. Some have astrological charts (e.g., showing good days for bloodletting).

In contrast to the modern art about medicine in the Medicine Now exhibit, this exhibit has a series of medicine-related paintings (most from the 18th and 19th centuries): physicians and surgeons at work, people giving birth, people being injured, bodies being dissected, etc.

One section of the exhibit presents the history of Henry Wellcome. He built a pharmaceutical empire and started the charitable trust that's responsible for the museum (and also responsible for ongoing grants for medicine). During his lifetime, he collected most of the objects shown in the Medicine Man exhibit.

It took me about an hour and a half to thoroughly explore the regular part of the collection. No special exhibit was open at the time.

On the way back to work, I almost hurt myself multiple times. The down escalator in the Warren Street tube station wasn't working so everyone had to walk down a long series of steps. Along the wall, London Transit had put up an interesting series of signs discussing escalators in the tube system: when the first one was installed, how many there are now, what and where the longest one is, etc. These signs attracted my attention so I didn't look where I was walking; this would've been fine if the steps were regularly spaced all the way down, but they weren't. Every dozen or two steps there was a landing, and when I stepped onto one unexpectedly (because I wasn't looking) I always stumbled.

Incidentally, I took a few photos during the excursion.

London: Oct 27: Sir John Soane's Museum, plus Marylebone

On Wednesday, October 27, 2010, I left work in mid-afternoon to explore Sir John Soane's Museum. Upon arrival, I was surprised to see there was a queue to enter. The curators control the number of people in the museum/house. I waited twenty minutes. The curators said the delay was due to an event earlier in the day and that there usually is no queue.

I feel weird calling this a museum. Rather, it's a collection. First, there are effectively no plaques/explanations. Second, it reflects one man's idiosyncratic tastes; it's not trying to convey a broad educational or cultural message. Third, it's in his (overfilled) house. Indeed, the whole idea reminds me of the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum (which I previously visited), where one person leaves his/her collection with the instructions to leave it in the condition it was in at the time of his/her death. Unlike the Gardner Museum, the curators here didn't quite obey. For instance, Soane's private rooms on the second floor were converted into museum offices. The curators obeyed in some parts of the house but not others. Now the museum/collection is trying to raise money to restore the rest of the house to its original state.

The museum has some remarkable sights, its architecture for one. Soane was an architect and designed the house himself, and he apparently really likes his skylights. They're everywhere--a greater abundance than I've seen in any other building. Some use colored glass.

Marble decorations (busts, reliefs) and casts, all Roman, comprise the majority of objects in his house. In some areas, so many are mounted to the walls and piled into overflowing alcoves that it's clear Soane wanted people feel like they were in Rome everywhere they looked. In fact, the wooden columns in the display hall seem flimsy in contrast to the marble.

The picture room is filled almost entirely with William Hogarth's series The Rake's Progress. It also has some hidden doors.

The basement has an eerie Gothic room that, with its mocking carvings, satirizes the style.

I got a taste of Canaletto -- there were two Canaletto paintings not on loan to the National Gallery, which was having a special exhibit on him. (I'd visit the special exhibit later during my stay in London.) The most famous Canaletto was loaned out.

By far the most amazing sight in the museum was from the basement near the Egyptian sarcophagus, looking past the literally countless busts up into the atrium above. This vista alone made the museum worthwhile. I'm sad I couldn't take a picture. This sketch is the best representation of the sight I could find on the web; this picture also kind of captures the effect, though from a different angle. Frankly, I'm shocked and disappointed that these are the best images I could find.

It took me a bit under an hour to go through the museum at a very languid pace. Because the museum was fast, and because the weather was great--I couldn't imagine a better temperature--, I fancied a stroll outside. I walked through Lincoln's Inn Fields and Lincoln's Inn before returning to work. I've previously visited them.

By the way, I took three pictures this day.

In the evening, I met Di Yin and a friend to go to The Golden Hind, a fish and chips shop we've visited before. On the way there (we didn't meet at the nearest station to it), we walked down Marylebone High Street, passing some attractive apartment buildings and doing some window shopping. I've previously walked through this area.

My reaction to dinner was exactly the same as before.

After dinner, we continued strolling down Marylebone High Street. It got nicer, turned into Thayer Street and James Street and got nicer still. Some buildings have such attractive facades, especially on the topmost level, that we stopped to talk about them. At the same time as we talked, I was thinking, "this building is nice, but it's not distinctive for London. London has many buildings equally nice; that's part of the appeal of the city."

Di Yin remarked that James Street was one of her favorite streets in London. I can see why: not only is it cute; it also has many restaurants with al fresco dining on the sidewalk. We passed some that provided good eye-candy: one with large, thin, rectangular pizzas; another with large paella dishes; another with hookahs. The square, St Christopher's Place, off James Street has more cute restaurants and pubs.

Di Yin, I, and her friend split up at Oxford Street, with Di Yin and me heading to the tube to head home, concluding our nice walk on a nice, comfortable evening.

By the way, Di Yin took pictures at dinner. The link goes to her first picture from this day (picture #77) in her London album. When you see a picture captioned "the pickles were very good" (picture #82), you're done with the day's pictures. I'll link to her other pictures at appropriate times.

London: Oct 24: Little Venice

On Sunday, October 24, 2010, my first full day in London, Di Yin and I decided to explore the neighborhood referred to as Little Venice. I'd previously read online about Little Venice and seen a handful of pictures and, as a result, had low expectations. Nevertheless, we went. It was a nice day, and the canals we walked along (Grand Union Canal: Paddington Branch; Regent's Canal) turned out to be very pretty, definitely exceeding my expectations.

I took pictures on the way. Also, here's the route we walked. (To explain the upward loop: I took a wrong turn so we ended up seeing more of the neighborhood than I'd intended.)

Di Yin took even more pictures than I. The link goes to the first picture she took this day (picture #23) in her London album. When you see a picture of me in a subway (picture #76), you're done with her pictures for the day. I'll link to her other pictures in a later post.

In addition to the canals, we enjoyed browsing the local high streets: Clifton Gardens and (the smaller) Formosa Street. As you can see from the pictures, this is a relatively high-end area with many upscale cafes (no Starbucks) and organic food shops.

London: Commute

Sometime I got to work by double-decker bus. (Though slower than the tube, it was more direct.) The route passes through areas I've visited during past excursions. From Kilburn High Road (my apartment area), it passes through Maida Vale, by Little Venice, Edgeware Road, Marble Arch, Hyde Park Corner (with Wellington Arch), and into Belgravia to Victoria.

On various days, I took pictures from the upper floor of the double-decker bus. I collected the photographs on one page.

Along the journey I see adventurous bikers. They're allowed to use the bus lanes and play (in effect) a relay race with the buses.

London: Commercial Areas Near My Apartment

There are two high streets (main streets) near my apartment: Kilburn High Street (near Kilburn High Street rail station) and Salusbury Road (near the Queen's Park rail and tube station). Kilburn High Street is the closest one to our apartment, and the one where I caught the bus to work.

At separate times, I explored these areas with my camera. Here are the photos.

Kilburn High Street is a long, everyday shopping street. I imagine that anything you need to live, you can find on this street. It has grocery stores, mid-range department stores, shoe stores, furniture stores, cell phone stores, banks, restaurants (mostly quick, convenient ones such as fast food joints and cafes with pre-made sandwiches), pubs, and even a dollar store (oops, I mean a pound store). There are also a variety of service shops, including a locksmith, a tailor, a dentist, a dry-cleaner, and a funeral home.

This is my impression from walking two-thirds of a mile from Kilburn High rail station to the next rail station north, Brondesbury rail station. Along the way, I passed a segment with a high density of Middle Eastern shops and restaurants.

Near Queen's Park, our other high street, Salusbury Road, is a bit higher class than Kilburn. I wouldn't call Kilburn low-class, or Queen's Park upscale by any means; it just feels a bit more well-to-do. There are certainly nicer restaurants there.

Salusbury Road is much, much shorter than Kilburn High Street--the commercial section lasts perhaps four blocks.

These descriptions are brief; refer to the pictures for more detail and concrete imagery.

London: Apartment and Vicinity

During this trip to London, we stayed a bit north of London (in zone 2), in the vicinity of neighborhoods known as Kilburn and Queen's Park. Our flat was in a townhouse that'd been converted into apartments. Our flat was nice and spacious and a very comfortable place to live. Wooden floors throughout. It was basically furnished (not sparsely furnished, but furnished more in the simple way someone our age tends to furnish places). The mattress was on a simple frame on the floor, and the living room had a circular plastic Ikea table for eating. The living room also had a large and comfortable L-shaped sofa, soft enough that one can easily sleep on it (as houseguests sometimes did).

The living room and bedroom were very large (perhaps 400-500 square feet each) and both had lofted ceilings (12+ feet tall) with floor-to-ceiling windows. The living room even had ceiling flourishes near the sides. It also had a gas fireplace, though we didn't touch it.

There was also a TV (which I never figured out how to turn on, though Di Yin could do it without trouble!) and a set of easy-to-move iPod speakers (which came in handy to listen to things at various places throughout the apartment).

The kitchen was long and narrow and more functional than it looked. There was a camouflaged dishwasher; it looked like a regular cabinet. The camouflaged refrigerator--a tall cabinet--had a tiny freezer but otherwise was large enough to serve our needs. There was also a small washing machine hidden in this hall of a kitchen.

The bathroom had its own style, with waist-high tiles on walls, some of which had emblems vaguely reminiscent of coats of arms.

Both the kitchen and the bedroom overlooked a backyard. Though we weren't allowed to go into it--it was property of the tenants below us--we enjoyed the view and also enjoyed watching the antics of the various neighborhood cats that came there to play.

As for the residential area around our apartment, I took a variety of photographs over several days documenting the area. Sorry I didn't take pictures inside the apartment itself.

Di Yin took some pictures in and near our apartment: 1, 2, 3, 4. Those pictures come from her London album. I'll link to the other pictures in the album when appropriate.

London Overview

I lived in London for about two months in late 2010, from Saturday, October 23, 2010, through Wednesday, December 15, 2010. I wrote about my impressions of London after I lived there the previous summer. This post adds to/updates that entry.

I still have the feeling that London is inexhaustible. Although I left work for a couple of hours most days to go exploring and see something new, my list of things to see in London feels longer than it was when I started. I discover new places to see at least as quickly as I manage to see them.

Also, I again want to emphasize that London has many attractive buildings. I like just walking around this city and looking. Incidentally, local area maps posted throughout the city have a circle labeled "5 minutes walking" -- very handy.

Climate & Weather
London is very far north. During most of my visit, I'd wake up before dawn and the sun would set between 4:00pm and 4:30pm. By the time I left in mid-December, it was almost dark at 4:00pm.

As I've said before, the weather in London is unpredictable, making weather prediction unreliable. It says heavy rain the next day but it barely mists for an hour or two. Again, I learned that regardless of the prediction, I should carry my umbrella. Nevertheless, I found I actually enjoyed London's intermittent rain. It was usually light, and walking around during a shower while being perfectly comfortable under an umbrella made me proud that I was braving the elements. Sometimes the rain was even refreshing.

Britishisms
I think I may choose to keep some of the Britishisms that I've picked up. I like saying "have a think", "on holiday", bill (for check), note (for paper money/bills), and mobile (for a cellular phone). I'm indifferent about saying cheers (for thank you and goodbye), take-away (for carry-out / to-go), lift (for elevator), aubergene (for eggplant), banger (for sausage), jacket potato (for baked potato), biscuit (for crackers or cookies), and crisps (for potato chips). There are some terms I don't think I'll ever get used to: on-lead (for a pet that's leashed), pudding (for dessert), chips (for french fries), chestnut mushrooms (for brown mushrooms / baby portobello), courgettes (for zucchini), and swede (for rutabaga).

Food
I'm left with a better impression of food in London than on my earlier visit. I think I simply had better luck with restaurants. I also have a good impression of prepared foods sold in grocery stores. Grocery stores in London have many refrigerated dishes that you microwave or bake at home, kind of like frozen dinners in the U.S. except these are fresher and go bad in a couple of days if you don't cook them. Marks and Spencer has the best ones, and the best selection. There are also desserts in the same vein; my favorite is banoffee pie, but in general we never went wrong with any of the desserts we picked up. Judging by the fat content, Londoners each have a quarter of their calories in the form of desserts, but these desserts are so tasty that they're calories well spent. Incidentally, as for freshly cooked desserts, I don't think I'll ever understand the appeal of warm custard, which the Brits put on all sorts of bread puddings and cakes.

By the way, I'm amazed how much the Brits mix meats in their meat pies (turkey and pork, game and poultry, etc.).

Misc
I learned it wasn't just Christopher Wren who designed a ton of London. John Nash designed/built a lot as well. (See the pictures, then the long list below.)

Maine Oct 2010

I was to spend two months of the fall in London. On the way there, I stopped in Maine to visit my parents from Tuesday, October 19, 2010, through Friday, October 22.

Sorry, I didn't take any pictures during this visit.

Tuesday
I flew into Boston on Tuesday. On the way, I grabbed a turkey and avocado sandwich to eat on the plane from Boudin Sourdough Bakery's SFO location. While buying this sandwich, I noticed a woman who wanted rye bread and made a big fuss: "What kind of bakery doesn't have rye bread?" I wanted to shout at her and shake her. The employees, however, were too nice to point out this is a sourdough bakery. It's in the name. That's why they don't have other types of bread.

Wednesday
On Wednesday, my parents proudly took me to Hebert Brothers Seafood, the local fishmonger, where we ate good lobster rolls while sitting on a picnic bench in front of the shop overlooking the water.

In the afternoon, we went to the Wentworth Hotel to stroll through its gardens and along its marina. It's a pretty area.

After that, we headed to Fort Stark, which overlooks the Atlantic Ocean and the Piscataqua River. I guess it's easy to find places that have views of water in this part of New Hampshire and Maine. Incidentally, walking around this derelict fort (much of it was fenced off), we saw places where branches struck out like artillery turrets through the fence around one building. Also, there were some rooms/buildings that I couldn't decide if they were meant to be prisons or barracks.

Later, we drove by more sights, including one place with a metal sculpture of a picture frame (on an easel, with a metal sculpture of a painter nearby) framing a water view. Finally, before returning home, we passed some nice houses in Newcastle, which I'm told is an expensive town.

For dinner, we headed to the York Harbor Inn, which has a prime rib special on Wednesday nights. We ate downstairs, the interior of which was designed to look like a ship and built from nicely glowing red wood. We ate watching the sun disappear through the hatch. We had pretty standard prime rib, not as good as what we've become accustomed to but acceptable nonetheless. The sides were good: mashed potatoes, battered french fries, grilled asparagus, and sauteed brussels sprouts in brown butter. (Yes, I liked the brussels sprouts, a pleasing surprise to me.)

Thursday
After I ran in the morning, we went to Shio in Portsmouth for lunch. It's a perfectly respectable Japanese restaurant; we had sushi (my last chance given London effectively has none) and teriyaki and tempura. I liked the restaurant's varied design, with regular tables, regular booths, and sunken floor Japanese-style booths.

We ate a Thanksgiving-inspired dinner at home: rotisserie chicken from Market Basket, baked sweet potatoes, roasted potatoes, peas, and cranberry sauce.

By the way, for some breakfasts in Maine I ate my mom's banana bread muffins. Good stuff.

Friday
My flight from Boston to London left Friday evening. My parents planned to drop me off at the airport and then eat dinner in Boston so as to wait out the rush hour traffic. Happily, it turned out my plane was delayed--a fact we only discovered once we were already in Boston--and thus I got to eat dinner with my parents.

Dinner was an adventure, and we got to exploit all the restaurant research my dad had done. My dad had a number of suggestions for dining options; he was excited when he saw how many good restaurants there were near the airport.

On the quest for food, we spent some time confusedly driving through the mess that is East Boston near the airport (lots of blocked roads and that kind of thing). The first place we stopped at was a pupusaria. From the outside it looked more like a small, corner Mexican market than a restaurant. There were no customers inside, and the neighborhood was scarily empty. We decided to pass.

Our second choice was a cafe in a shipyard. We thought we were in the same situation again when we found the entrance to the shipyard dark (no street-lights) and guarded by a family of skunks. Slightly perturbed, we detoured and drove to the other entrance, which was marginally more welcoming--there was a guardhouse but still no people.

Once in the shipyard, we found the small restaurant we were seeking: Scup's in the Harbour. It's a cozy space with a couple of bench tables inside, that's all. One orders food from the door to the kitchen. It's funky, given character by exposed pipes in the ceiling, by Christmas balls hanging from the ceiling, by the large, fake spider attached to one wall, and by the paintings.

Soon after being seated, we were greeted by and chatted with the owner for quite a while. She and her husband previously ran Emma's Pizza in Cambridge (a shop I've been to before (though after they sold it) and enjoyed). By the way, it turns out they weren't the original owners--they took over from Emma the pizza Nazi. (Yes, she sounded like the pizza equivalent of the soup nazi.) After they ran and sold Emma's Pizza, they lived on a tugboat in the shipyard for a while, then were offered this place in the shipyard to run. (The previous occupants left.) Anyway, we talked about a lot more than her biography, but those are the highlights.

My parents and I split three dishes:

• Crab cakes. Decent. The crab was the texture of moist bread crumbs in a white cream sauce. I thought they were decent and relatively unusual; my mom thought they were the best crab cakes she's ever had.
• "Ultimate" BLT: house-marinated bacon, cherry tomatoes (sliced in half, which makes them really want to escape the sandwich), greens, cheese, and pesto. (Yes, it's those unusual ingredients that make the chef call it "ultimate.") I thought this was very good, especially when hot, with the bacon being better than most I've had. My mom disagreed, saying the bacon was average. Regardless, I thought the cheese and pesto added a lot, and I think this sandwich will get me to consider ordering BLTs again. (Normally in a sandwich shop my eyes skip over them on the menu because I didn't believe they were something I usually like.)
• Chicken rice bowl with grilled chicken, rice, peanuts, shredded carrots, and green onions, all in a funky Asian sauce (sesame mixed with something sweet?). There were also notes of lemon, chili powder, and ginger. Fine. Nice grill-marks on the chicken. Though I usually like dishes with green onions and/or peanuts, I felt there was too much going on in this dish and it didn't manage to come together harmoniously. My mom hated it, but dad convinced her to take the leftovers home. They said the leftovers were much better. Mom "loved" them. I guess I didn't mix the dish enough the first night, or perhaps the flavors blended better overnight.

After dinner, my parents dropped me off at the airport.

As for the flight itself, because it was an overnight flight, I worked hard to get comfortable and sleep the entire way. The Virgin Atlantic economy seat had too much space (!) between my seat and the window -- I couldn't easily jam a pillow in there to lean on, and if my head let the pillow slip, it would fall between the plane's shell and my seat.

It's interesting that this flight was shorter than the flight from San Francisco to Boston, but this flight crosses five time zones, not three. Can you figure out why this is? (I can.)