Chapter Five: In Which We Accept Cheeses Into Our Lives.

The day began with ... English breakfast.

Then we walked towards Parliament and Westminster Abbey, via Trafalgar Square. On the way we stopped and went into another public library (Charing Cross) -- Kelly was saddened to hear that the City of Westminster is using the same pathetic computer system as Toronto. Globalization again.

We also visited Saint-Martin-in-the-Fields. What a beautiful, simple church. With the exception of the ornate chandaliers, the sanctuary is much like the simple Congregationalist churches we've seen in New England.


This is the organ, which backs up all those spectacular choral concerts you hear from St. Marty's.


This clearly is a church dedicated to the arts, and one that likes to do things well. This year, it finally got around to permanently replacing the eastern stained glass window that was destroyed in World War Two.


Not only are the iron work and the glass that form the central part of the cross warped, but the individual panes of glass all appear to be shattered, yet whole. The Iranian-born artist, Shirazeh Houshiary, said she was influenced by the imagery of a veil. Feminist critics think it is gynecological. Archbishop Rowan Williams called it "a very peaceful and yet very challenging symbol all at once." Sara wondered if it was a comment on the state of the Anglican Communion.

Whatever it is, it takes your breath away when you walk into the church. (Or it makes you want to clean your glasses.)


On the steps outside there is what appears to be a slab of concrete but which is instead a surprisingly moving visual retelling of the text from John: "In the beginning was the word, and the word became flesh, and lived among us."



After St. Martin's, we walked up Whitehall, which unfortunately was under construction so we could not see its many monuments, one of the most moving of which is the monument to the women of World War Two. There are some pictures here from Sara's visit in 2007. We did get to see some action at the Horse Guards, where the Guard was changing.


The Horse Guards building on Whitehall is actually the site of Henry VIII's tournament grounds and tennis courts. It was absolutely packed with tourists --a rather unpleasant experience-- and Sara got a little taste of the action when she tried to exit the yard but instead ended up following a horse and its guardsman into their little guardhouse. "Oi! Oi! Oi! You wanna get kicked in the 'ead by an 'orse? Oi!"


There was no getting near Westminster Abbey; we will try that next week. But we did visit the Cabinet War Rooms, a series of fortified rooms under a government building from which the Second World War was directed. These rooms were prepared in advance of the war -- the preparation including running secure telephone lines, pouring six feet of concrete and laying steel slab in existing buildings without the public realizing anything was going on. It was its own world, and you could see who had status, from Churchill to senior cabinet members and military personnel, to lesser personnel, and least of all to secretaries who slept in the cellar.

Also in the War Rooms complex is a new museum dedicated to Sir Winston Churchill. Despite its confusing layout, it is full of excellent interpretation. Letters between Churchill and his wife Clementine show their devotion to each other. We had a good laugh when we saw that their nickname for their eldest daughter was "Puppy Kitten" -- one of the many nicknames of H. Kitten. Extracts from Churchill's writing and speeches show his wicked wit; he once called Clement Attlee "a sheep in sheep’s clothing." And the video presentation of his funeral in 1965 showed just how grateful Britain was to him. It was the first time a monarch attended the funeral of a commoner.

After visiting the Cabinet War Rooms and Churchill Museum, we went for a pint, where we were more than happy to raise a pint to Chet Baker, the only dog we know of who can chomp a cigar like Winston Churchill. Lunch was chicken, ham, and leek pie and toad-in-the-hole.

Continuing with the war theme, and trying to avoid the torrential rain that had soaked us, we went to the Imperial War Museum, which has a graphic recreation of World War I trenches, an effective Blitz "experience" and an extremely moving interpretation of the transportation of children during World War Two. It was the second time Sara had seen it, and the second time she lost it. Kelly got shaky too, especially when she read the letter sent ahead to Canada by a child's parents; it included a pawprint from the little girl's dog. She never received the letter, as her boat was torpedoed. We also saw grandparents who had lived through the war as children showing their grandchildren around. On a lighter note, the display included some personal effects of the designer Terence Conran, who was transported to the countryside: his Windsor chair, cuddly toy, and book of pressed flowers. He had class, even as a wee bairn.

Food fans are waiting for the supper update. We've just finished it -- a selection of cheeses from Neal's Yard Dairy near Covent Garden. This is a terrific shop, which loves to give out samples.
We had St. Tola, an Irish goat cheese that's described as having a lactic-sour but herbaceous flavour and moistly crumbly texture with a silky breakdown beneath its nutty wrinkled cream-white rind; Ogleshield, a Jersey milk cheese whose flavours are fruity, almost winey with salty, savoury undertones, and Lincolnshire Poacher, a kind of Cheddar-Gruyere hybrid which has big, bold, tangy flavours. You may be reminded of onion, pineapple, hazelnuts, toast or caramel. Any combination of these flavours is held together with a meaty savouriness.

All we know is that it was delicious!