Day Two

London

The first thing we did on our first full day was go to Wesley's Chapel for our choir's concert. It was very nice, and I imagine to sing in the chapel of one of the premier British theologians, John Wesley, was quite an experience. It was nice listening to the choir, and it was the first time I heard one of my now-favorite songs, "How Can I Keep from Singing?" by Robert Lowry.

After the choir's concert, we had a tour with Clive, our tour guide. Clive was very British and really cool. Many tour guides carry umbrellas that they can hold up as a signal to their groups; Clive's was Burberry plaid. As we walked through a park, one of the girls was talking about theater, and Clive recited "Why Can't the English" from "My Fair Lady." It was really endearing. We saw St. James' Palace, Buckingham Palace, St. James' Park, and distant views of Big Ben, the London Eye, and Westminster Abbey. We also saw Charing Cross, and Clive told us the story of how it got its name. This is the story as I remember it:

During the 14th century Edward I was king of England. By all accounts he was a hard man, bordering on cruel, but his wife Eleanor was good, and her influence helped Edward be more humane. Because of that, people loved her. Eleanor died in Lincoln, and there was a procession with her body from Lincoln down to London. In every town the procession stopped Edward had a cross put up. There were originally twelve crosses for the twelve nights the journey took. The last cross is Charing. The story claims that Eleanor was so well-loved that the word "Charing" comes from the French chère reine, or dear queen.

Even if it's not true, it's as good an explanation as any, and it's a sweet story.

This was the day of our first concert, too. We played at Victoria Embankment Gardens, not far from the river. Once our concert was done and we'd packed up, we listened to another group perform while we ate our box lunches. And that was when I first had a real cheese sandwich. I tell you, this was truly a life-changing trip.

In the afternoon we went to Covent Garden. Of course we went in the Doc Martens store, which was part store and part shrine to famous people's shoes. I ought to have bought some shoes. Although there are modern stores there now, in some ways Covent Garden is just the same as it was circa "My Fair Lady." In fact, when we got home, I came across a picture of a drawing of the Garden from the 19th century, and it wasn't all that different from what I saw. But that paled in comparison to the Space Cowboy.

Imagine an Australian man in a coat and bowler hat on a unicycle. Imagine he takes off the coat and has huge wings tattooed on his back. Imagine he takes off his coat, puts a coathanger through a hole in his nose, and hangs the coat on it. Imagine he starts juggling knives while on the unicycle. Imagine he then puts on a blindfold and juggles knives on the unicycle. I was, as you might gather, amazed. Perhaps it doesn't sound as exciting as I found it, but he was funny and brave and possibly insane. A few weeks after we got home I saw him on TV.

That evening we went to the West End to see a show called "Buddy" about Buddy Holly. Our group loved it. It was full of music that I grew up listening to and the stories behind the songs and the bands; it was energetic and bright and vivacious. Although Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and the Big Bopper lost their lives on the Day the Music Died, the show managed to both pay tribute to that sad event and end happily. We left the theater singing "That'll Be the Day."

Tomorrow: Westminster Abbey, fuzzy hat guys, and cultural institutions.