(1-30)– So, now that the weekend is coming to a close, I finally have a chance to write about our first– of hopefully, many– wild weekends. It started on Thursday, after our last class of the semester, London Journal. Basically a journalism and nonfiction writing class, it made me feel a little bit more comfortable in our classroom, and I hope that I will get some good material to write with, both here and long after I’ve left.
Then, after a short café-and-homework grind, most of the flat decided that they would go out to the bars for the first “weekend” night we’ve been here (Drinking age in England is 18, of course!). Half decided to go to O’Neill’s, an Irish-themed chain bar which they’d heard through the grapevine caters to Americans. The other half decided to go The Roxy, a more local, neon dance bar.
Unfortunately for me, neither bar was in my cards. After Rebekah realized her ID was still at home and we started to walk back, I realized that my pocket was empty– and within two minutes of dropping it, realizing it was gone, and going back and trying to find my 5 pounds and my enhanced New York State license (the one that was eaten by a dog, for those of you that have seen it recently), I found the container on the ground empty. Although not a “big deal”– I could have lost all my cards, or more money, and my ID was a spare anyway– I decided to head home and take it easy for the rest of the night. Instead, I was regaled with tales of the live band at O’Neill’s and a dance battle at The Roxy, which I’d say was just as entertaining.
(1-31)– After my harrowing adventure the night before, I decided that I would try to clear the air with a longer run. I was the first or second in the flat to wake up and chose, on a whim, to head over to Regent’s Park, the next on my list. The preferred park for several pop culture creations– including some Agatha Christie murder mysteries, The One Hundred and One Dalmatians favorite park to walk in, several scenes in Mrs. Dalloway, and even, if you count London Zoo, Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, I started with high expectations.
Although the walk was slightly more winding then my walk to Hyde a few days before, it was all worth it in the end; when I arrived, this large, royal park drew me in, with its abundant green space, wide pedestrian paths, and seemingly younger clientele.
Now, the park is one of the four Royal Parks of London. Built by John Nash and Decimus Burton under the patronage of James Burton (a famous London property director) in 1823-24, the park was opened to the public (originally for only two days a week!) in 1835. The idea, though, came from Prince Regent George IV, who himself has an interesting story: reigning in place of his mentally ill father, King George III, he commissioned Nash to create The Royal Pavilion at Brighton and had Windsor Palace and Buckingham Palace remodeled. Originally seen as “the first gentleman of England,” his treatment of others and his spending habits led to a dislike among his constituency, although his legacy lives on.
I started my run by moving through a smaller section called the Park Square Gardens. One of many that I passed, these gardens were well-developed but currently under construction. Full of fountains and flowers even this close to the end of winter, it seemed like a beautiful and quiet place to come for a date or to read a book. It is surrounded by ornate and extravagant terraced buildings, also built by the architectural team of Nash and Burton.
As I ran a little further into the park, I reached the Broadwalk, the only section of the park which is not solely reserved for pedestrians. On one side are wide open fields and in the middle of the day, most English dogs I saw were off-leash and chasing pigeons in pure delight. From greyhounds to mud-covered labs, every single one brought a smile to my face.
About three-quarters of the way down the long path, I found a beautiful fountain known as The Ready Money Drinking Fountain, a 10-tonne granite/marble sculpture named after Sir Cowasjee Jehangir. Jehangir and his eponymous nickname was a wealthy industrialist from Bombay; he reportedly donated the statue in 1869 as a thank you to the British Empire for Parsees protection in India.
Even further into the park lays a four feet deep lake, which much like Hyde holds a number of waterfowl. I snapped this cool panoramic before moving on: even on an overcast day with the colours doubly muted by the winter, I felt somewhat entranced. I can see why so many people can be inspired by places like these.
Finally reaching the northern end of the park, I found The Regents Canal, a street art-filled path leading one way past London Zoo and the Jubilee Greenway and the other towards Camden Town. Almost without even realizing, I passed a group of African hunting dogs, rows upon rows of upscale housing, and a street market in Camden Lock (which seemed so interesting that I ended up going back the next day!).
I eventually headed home after such extensive sightseeing; The Regent’s Park, though, stayed in my head– for me, it definitely beats out Hyde Park in terms of interesting sights, and I’ll definitely be coming back. By the time I finally got back, everyone was awake and moving. We did some more schoolwork and I reread The Taming of The Shrew (which I am moderately excited to discuss) before we realized that it was the last Friday of the month. This meant that one of the Tate Modern’s monthly “Tate Lates” was happening around 6:30pm, so we rallied the troops (and my tired legs) to take another walk.
Already a little past dusk, we walked through busy Chinatown down to the Thames, where a nice Riverwalk led us straight to the museum. Like many of the cultural sites here in London, the museums are funded by the government and mostly free to the public! Crowds akin to the West End streets before a show (Tate was said to draw in 5.8 million in 2018) filled the giant warehouse-style building of Tate Modern. Formerly the Bankside Power Station, the museum was converted to hold art in 2000, and still retains several aspects of its former use, including the cavernous main Turbine Hall, where the commissioned works of Kara Walker– the small fountain known as Shell Grotto and the hulking behemoth Fons Americanus— reside.
It’s many floors, extensions, and galleries hold other iconic pieces, such as a version of Monet’s Water Lilies (fig.), Salvadore Dali’s Lobster Telephone, Picasso’s Head of a Woman (Fernande), and other, slightly more obscure yet intriguing creations such as British Library (fig.), Azzawi’s Sabra and Shatila Massacre, and Colin Self’s Hot Dog Sculpture.
On each floor, I felt myself falling into the art. Even tired and sore, I could feel each piece and it’s energy. This mood was equally helped along by the many other patrons quietly roaming the halls with dreamy, absorbed looks on their faces and the live music drifting up from the center hall; even the talks hosted by staff or the interactive events (check out my collage, or the artists racing to complete a sketch of Fons Americanus) felt electric and special in this place. Although it was perhaps a little too much for such a busy day, I could still see the appeal of the event and would love to visit the museum again– on a day when a little less is going on, hopefully.
On the way home, in aid to our tired bodies, we also got a special treat– for many of us, our first trips on the London Underground! The Underground, their subway– or “tube”– system, is one of several public transportations available to those with an Oyster card, London’s version of the MetroCard.
On average smaller cars, I was surprised at their speed; the cars were also not segmented like New York City, but one long thread, like Californian buses. Although I loved the ride and marveled at their cleanliness, my love of public transportation is always joined by the wish that Alex, my best friend at home, could come and see this wonderful and affordable way of getting around the city. Maybe one day!
A part two to this wild weekend will be out soon! Cheers!
Ethan Knox 
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