I have no choice but to start today saying how upset I am with the negative attitude of some of my readers. According to Beefeater is a brand of gin and not whiskey, but the first time I hear the word "teetotaler" used as an insult.
On the other hand, I have requested a proof of travel, ie
demonstrate that I am locked in my house writing this from my imagination and put pictures of cut and paste taken from the Internet. There he goes. I regret not having found a daily newspaper to hold it while I drew the picture. I hope that is sufficient and does not become to doubt the veracity of my stories.
Today I woke up at eight. I went down to breakfast once a quarter to ten and I set off to the British Museum, which opens at ten. I took the tube to Tottenham Court Road and had to walk about five minutes until the start of the museum. 20 years since my last visit. The content remains the same, but the continent has changed slightly. In 2000 opened the new main hall, a circular room brightly lit by a glass dome.
Almost all civilizations are represented in the British Museum sausages by the English explorers. They are there until one of the dolls of Easter Island.
The most flagrant case is that of Lord Elgin, who came from Greece Acropolis carrying half by the year 1800, when he was ambassador at Constantinople. Then Greece belonged to the Ottoman Empire.
Caryatid I \u200b\u200bwas looking for it, with his five sisters, she bore the weight of the Erechtheion. Five sisters who are in the New Acropolis Museum in Athens with a gap between them waiting around for it. Friezes, metopes, sculptures, architectural pieces and objects form the Greek collection. There is even a whole memorial, big as a house. In a room
dedicated to Asia, a Burmese man with mad face looked closely at the statue of a seated Buddha brought from Burma. It is assumed that these gadgets are sacred. The statue was great to move into a truck. How do you do to get an artifact of the size of a country without provoking a popular uprising? It is as if we invade and try to get the Christ of the Great Power or the Macarena from Seville to a museum abroad. It is God's.
The area of \u200b\u200bthe museum that I like is that of Egyptian mummies. I am not alone. That was the most crowded room full of school, Japanese and other tourists. What are morbid! My
favorite mummy is a pharaoh or a member of the nobility. It's a dead man who got into a hole in the desert, no box or anything. The guy is crouched face down, which seems to be sleeping so happy in his glass case. Is well preserved because the sand absorbing moisture from the body. So it is not eaten by bugs.
After visiting the museum drum step, I took the subway bound for St. Paul. Carefully to see the museum may take two or three years, I reckon. No wonder I stopped along the way what the hell was laughing skeleton
photo.
In St. Paul began to put the time ugly, very ugly. Would not visit the cathedral, but crossing Millennium Bridge to the Tate Modern. I told this already last year but I will repeat again that you are fit. The pedestrian bridge is designed as Norman Foster. Shortly after inauguration had to be closed to the public because it was moving a lot. And keep moving, I certify. When you reach the other side of the river between the Tate Modern, a former power station converted into a museum of modern art. I got the snot falling from the cold I went across the river. "
In the turbine hall half the space was dedicated to not know what to call it, whose creator is a very ugly Chinese with little embarrassed to be called Ai Weiwei. In an area of \u200b\u200b1000 m2 is run by the soil hundred million sunflower made porcelain, painted
one by one hand for a few Chinese. And they call it art.
On the upper floors of the museum there are things I'm going to refrain from counting and did not want to shoot out of modesty. One room is called "Surrealism and Beyond." The title is well chosen. A filthy blanket roll on the ground, two dead gray pigeons with respective arrows nailed to the wall, I'm afraid some objects represented droppings and a nondescript iron structure were what caught my attention. I left there
satiated so much art, ready to boldly cross the bridge, despite the light rain, wind and cold. And my umbrella in the hotel.
I arrived safely to the subway station and went to Westminster, to monitor the development of preparations for the wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton at the Abbey. Upon reaching the door I found with surprise that now charge 16 pounds for the input. Either my memory fails or the other two times I visited was free. As I was not going to pay 16 pounds to see the same movie a third time, I turned around and looked for a place to eat. I will see the Abbey on the inside when you put the wedding on TV and the pictures of Hello. Again
subway towards Leicester Square to go to the bookshop Foyles in Charing Cross Road. Besides the books, the charm of this library is in its cafeteria. It has a tiny stage for live performances. The staff sits on a thick dark wood tables are shared, but not to know who sit by your side. They have free wifi, so it's full of people with their laptops. I had to share a table with a figure of about 30 years, blond, with hair slicked back and Bigotina 20's who kept typing on his MacBook. Like something out of a novel by EM Forster.
After resting there for a while and it was dark legs, I went for a last tour of Harrods and then to Marble Arch a few days I've been watching people get on the subway at the stop in Marble Arch bags with a store called Primark. The bags are paper and people will take to fill up the stands. Deduction: near Marble Arch is a clothing store cheap, very cheap. The name sounded familiar, but could not remember what. Nothing more to the surface I found myself confronted by the store. It is the latter that there is in Oxford Street and yesterday I had to see because it is right after a field where two huge buildings are built. Viewed from the other side, it seems that there is nothing of interest after the work. Why not continue until the end of the street.
I went and found the paradise of the working classes. 2 pounds shirts, socks to 1 pound t to 3 pounds to 8 pounds jerseys. The quality, of course, leaves much to be desired, but the designs are not all bad. It's a relief to see that these people do not have to go naked. No, I did not buy anything.
I have witnessed in recent days the British have greatly improved the way they dress. Years ago had a depraved taste for clothes. Now wear much better. What I do not quite like are the shoes of the man who put the costumes for young workers. Son of shoelaces, classic but with the toe pointed. Today I saw someone who was like a Japanese woman with bound feet because the toe was so sharp that he could not flex the foot while walking.
bought dinner at Mark & Spencer and returned to the hotel. Today I have beaten to death.
I had a moment of panic at not working internet connection. I went down to reception to talk with Candela, which for the name and you can imagine where it is. Reset the modem and everything returned to normal.
In short I'm going to bed.
Goodnight.
On the other hand, I have requested a proof of travel, ie
demonstrate that I am locked in my house writing this from my imagination and put pictures of cut and paste taken from the Internet. There he goes. I regret not having found a daily newspaper to hold it while I drew the picture. I hope that is sufficient and does not become to doubt the veracity of my stories. Today I woke up at eight. I went down to breakfast once a quarter to ten and I set off to the British Museum, which opens at ten. I took the tube to Tottenham Court Road and had to walk about five minutes until the start of the museum. 20 years since my last visit. The content remains the same, but the continent has changed slightly. In 2000 opened the new main hall, a circular room brightly lit by a glass dome.
Almost all civilizations are represented in the British Museum sausages by the English explorers. They are there until one of the dolls of Easter Island.
The most flagrant case is that of Lord Elgin, who came from Greece Acropolis carrying half by the year 1800, when he was ambassador at Constantinople. Then Greece belonged to the Ottoman Empire.
Caryatid I \u200b\u200bwas looking for it, with his five sisters, she bore the weight of the Erechtheion. Five sisters who are in the New Acropolis Museum in Athens with a gap between them waiting around for it. Friezes, metopes, sculptures, architectural pieces and objects form the Greek collection. There is even a whole memorial, big as a house. In a room
dedicated to Asia, a Burmese man with mad face looked closely at the statue of a seated Buddha brought from Burma. It is assumed that these gadgets are sacred. The statue was great to move into a truck. How do you do to get an artifact of the size of a country without provoking a popular uprising? It is as if we invade and try to get the Christ of the Great Power or the Macarena from Seville to a museum abroad. It is God's.
The area of \u200b\u200bthe museum that I like is that of Egyptian mummies. I am not alone. That was the most crowded room full of school, Japanese and other tourists. What are morbid! My
favorite mummy is a pharaoh or a member of the nobility. It's a dead man who got into a hole in the desert, no box or anything. The guy is crouched face down, which seems to be sleeping so happy in his glass case. Is well preserved because the sand absorbing moisture from the body. So it is not eaten by bugs. After visiting the museum drum step, I took the subway bound for St. Paul. Carefully to see the museum may take two or three years, I reckon. No wonder I stopped along the way what the hell was laughing skeleton
photo. In St. Paul began to put the time ugly, very ugly. Would not visit the cathedral, but crossing Millennium Bridge to the Tate Modern. I told this already last year but I will repeat again that you are fit. The pedestrian bridge is designed as Norman Foster. Shortly after inauguration had to be closed to the public because it was moving a lot. And keep moving, I certify. When you reach the other side of the river between the Tate Modern, a former power station converted into a museum of modern art. I got the snot falling from the cold I went across the river. "
In the turbine hall half the space was dedicated to not know what to call it, whose creator is a very ugly Chinese with little embarrassed to be called Ai Weiwei. In an area of \u200b\u200b1000 m2 is run by the soil hundred million sunflower made porcelain, painted
one by one hand for a few Chinese. And they call it art. On the upper floors of the museum there are things I'm going to refrain from counting and did not want to shoot out of modesty. One room is called "Surrealism and Beyond." The title is well chosen. A filthy blanket roll on the ground, two dead gray pigeons with respective arrows nailed to the wall, I'm afraid some objects represented droppings and a nondescript iron structure were what caught my attention. I left there
satiated so much art, ready to boldly cross the bridge, despite the light rain, wind and cold. And my umbrella in the hotel.
I arrived safely to the subway station and went to Westminster, to monitor the development of preparations for the wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton at the Abbey. Upon reaching the door I found with surprise that now charge 16 pounds for the input. Either my memory fails or the other two times I visited was free. As I was not going to pay 16 pounds to see the same movie a third time, I turned around and looked for a place to eat. I will see the Abbey on the inside when you put the wedding on TV and the pictures of Hello. Again
subway towards Leicester Square to go to the bookshop Foyles in Charing Cross Road. Besides the books, the charm of this library is in its cafeteria. It has a tiny stage for live performances. The staff sits on a thick dark wood tables are shared, but not to know who sit by your side. They have free wifi, so it's full of people with their laptops. I had to share a table with a figure of about 30 years, blond, with hair slicked back and Bigotina 20's who kept typing on his MacBook. Like something out of a novel by EM Forster.
After resting there for a while and it was dark legs, I went for a last tour of Harrods and then to Marble Arch a few days I've been watching people get on the subway at the stop in Marble Arch bags with a store called Primark. The bags are paper and people will take to fill up the stands. Deduction: near Marble Arch is a clothing store cheap, very cheap. The name sounded familiar, but could not remember what. Nothing more to the surface I found myself confronted by the store. It is the latter that there is in Oxford Street and yesterday I had to see because it is right after a field where two huge buildings are built. Viewed from the other side, it seems that there is nothing of interest after the work. Why not continue until the end of the street.
I went and found the paradise of the working classes. 2 pounds shirts, socks to 1 pound t to 3 pounds to 8 pounds jerseys. The quality, of course, leaves much to be desired, but the designs are not all bad. It's a relief to see that these people do not have to go naked. No, I did not buy anything.
I have witnessed in recent days the British have greatly improved the way they dress. Years ago had a depraved taste for clothes. Now wear much better. What I do not quite like are the shoes of the man who put the costumes for young workers. Son of shoelaces, classic but with the toe pointed. Today I saw someone who was like a Japanese woman with bound feet because the toe was so sharp that he could not flex the foot while walking.
bought dinner at Mark & Spencer and returned to the hotel. Today I have beaten to death.
I had a moment of panic at not working internet connection. I went down to reception to talk with Candela, which for the name and you can imagine where it is. Reset the modem and everything returned to normal.
In short I'm going to bed.
Goodnight.
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