Every weekend in London has been a new adventure, and with my friend Charlotte coming down from Manchester the inner-tourist tendencies within me came out. It was a blast showing her around, because I got to do all the tourist things again. Every time I go back to places like Buckingham Palace, St. James’ Park, Green Park, Trafalgar Square, and Westminster, I see something new every time. A new day, a new discovery.
This time around in Trafalgar Square I discovered the National Portrait Gallery, which is a sector of the National Gallery. As you would suspect, all of the paintings are portraits of peop
le. The most appalling portrait was an artist who extracted 8 pints of his own blood and then casted a sculpture of his face. Let that sink in a moment. A man used his own blood to make a replica of his own head. Wait for the real kicker: he does this every five years to really reflect the changes in his face and aging. Since this sculpture is made from blood it is in a sealed air conditioning unit. Apparently, this is some artistic statement about how fragile life is. As, I’ve said before I don’t have a strong understanding or appreciation for modern art like this. In my opinion, this is simply twisted and disgusting.
As we explored throughout the weekend, I realized how long it has been taking my mind to really map out London. When I go underground in the tube, I simply pop out at my location with no geographical sense of where I am. This time: we walked. My hands, my feet, and my nose were numb. My body was warm with its layers, but my legs felt the biting wind.
We eventually made it to St. Paul’s Cathedral. Ironically, I had always seen this beautiful building across the river and always wondered what it was. Turns out it was St. Paul’s Cathedral. I couldn’t even get great pictures of it because it was so massive. Outside, the architecture is jaw dropping 
. The amount of detail put into a building is astounding. The history of the cathedral goes all the way back to 604 A.D., when the first St. Paul’s was built. Due to various fires, the cathedral actually has been rebuilt several times. We knew that seeing the inside would probably cost an excessive amount and we were right: about 17 pounds. BUT, we stroke some luck when we realized it was 12:30 pm and Holy Communion started at that time. In other words, it is always FREE to attend service. So we hurried in and sat for the service. Personally, I liked the service at Westminster Abbey much better with its choir and everything. However, this was a simple, short, Saturday afternoon service at St. Paul’s.
The signs said to not take pictures inside the cathedral, but now I wished I did. The amount of ornate gold detailing under the dome and under the ceiling was breathtaking. Murals filled the ceilings and stained glass windows lined the walls. There were marble statues of different figures from the past that lined the walls and two ginormous organs that filled the center of the cathedral. Beautiful is a huge understatement.
After the service, Charlotte and I decided to see if we could sneak a peak at the rest of the cathedral. We ended up going downstairs to the tombs. Thinking about this miniature cemetery at night sounds frightening. It was dark, but again full of beautiful statues commemorating different figures from the past. There was this huge tomb for Arthur, the Duke of Wellington, encased in this dark black stone.
Overall, St. Paul’s has by far been my favorite historic site.
Adventure Awaits 