The Tower of London

As I start to think more seriously about a career in museums, I find myself actively evaluating the way that the museums I visit are set up. There are so many different things you can do to attract and engage visitors, and to teach the history of the site.

I went to the Tower of London on Wednesday. It’s one of the places I didn’t get to see the first time I was in London, two years ago.

I was a bit hesitant at first, because it costs quite a bit of money to get in. Especially when a lot of great things in London are free. Nevertheless, I decided it would be worth the gamble.

I didn’t know how much was in the Tower of London. There are three distinct sections (I lost my map halfway through so I’m hoping I didn’t miss any). There’s the Medieval Palace, the Jewel House and the White Tower.

I started in the Medieval Palace (Inner and Outer Wards on a map), and to me this was the most interesting part. It was built by Henry III and is still set up in medieval fashion. The most interesting part, for me, was that they had a display that outlined the different layers of the King’s bedding in the Royal Chamber. Underneath they had samples you could touch of what silk filled with feathers feels like, or linen filled with horsehair. There was a chapel set up as well.

It was here, too, that you could see the place where they later kept the prisoners and the really interesting carvings done on the walls by the prisoners. They had all of these covered by glass panes and then beside that they had the stories of the prisoners who carved them.

I thought both techniques were really good ways to give visitors the feeling of what it was actually like, back then. I loved touching the different fabrics. They also had sample tiles and other things you could touch. This is really important, I think, because I know that I always stand behind the barriers just itching to reach out and touch a wall or a rug or whatever. It makes it seem more real.

The carvings were great, it went along well with what people normally think of when they think of the Tower - imprisonment and torture. And to be able to read the stories right at the relevant carvings, it was like you could picture them sitting in the tower, making their mark on the walls.

There were also several videos throughout this section that told the general story of the royalty at the time it was built and stories surrounding the Tower. They were good movies because they were concise - they told the stories in an engaging way, but you didn’t feel like you were standing and watching a whole film in the middle of a historic building, like those videos often tend to do.

The next part I visited was the Jewel House and the enormous collection of the Crown Jewels. To be honest, I had no idea that these were here. It was a complete surprise to me (though I would’ve found out in about .3 seconds had I read the travel guide.) It was quite stunning, though. I liked the way they had this set up as well. There were cases with jewels and such, and beside was a text panel. The text was concise and interesting, focusing on the stories behind each crown or other jewel.

When you enter the bottom half, the very secure area which I believe is underground, you filter through a set of queues to go through the collection. While you stand in these queues you watch different movies on a screen in front of you. One shows the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II. The next show close ups of various pieces in the collection. They’re very interesting, but this is mostly designed to prevent a bottleneck effect and direct you through the building properly. I definitely found that about the Tower of London - they always know exactly where they want you to go next and you’re always being led up one way and down another, so that not only do you see everything without having to think too hard, but you also don’t run into people coming the other way. I’ve heard the Tower is extremely busy in the summer, so that’s probably why they have it so strategically planned. It’s interesting and something I’m not used to in museums - I’m used to people sort of wandering every which way.

Now you can’t take pictures in the Jewel House. I’m sure this is for security purposes. But I was a bit disappointed because I would’ve liked to have a few pictures of the collection, it was so stunning. At the same time, I also appreciate that if you were allowed to take photos than the very important line would be endlessly held up by people trying to take a decent picture of something behind glass and inevitably failing quite miserably.

The next part of my visit was to the White Tower. The White Tower is apparently the oldest part of the Tower of London. I say ‘apparently’ because I just learned that from Wikipedia, and didn’t know that when I was looking around it. This their temporary exhibit space, and it’s unfurnished save whatever exhibit they have at the time. The exhibit this time was called “Henry VIII: Dressed to Kill.” It shows the evolution of King Henry VIII’s armour. They have little diagrams showing him getting fatter through the years, it’s quite entertaining. On the glass cases they have quotes from primary sources, first painting him as a glorious, brave and handsome soldier, and then in the later years talking a bit about his obesity and disease.

It was a very interesting exhibit. They had computers set up where you could see close ups of the detailing on his armour, which was really the most interesting part.

My only criticism of the White Tower is that because of this exhibit, you didn’t get to learn much about the history of that building or the architecture. Which was surely interesting.The other side, opposite the exhibit, had some information, but mostly it was just games and simulations aimed mostly at children. The games, though, were quite cool. You could try to shoot an arrow, see what it’s like to look through a metal helmet, sword fight, etc. This room was crowded and the lines for such activities were huge. It’s a great way to appeal to all ages though, to keep the kids from being bored at walking around all day looking at jewels and armour.

Obviously, the Tower of London has a fair bit of money to do what it wants as a museum. This definitely shows. Museums are evolving, incorporating new technologies and tactics to make history interesting. Museums are no longer drab places solely for history buffs. They’re for everyone, now. They’re completely approachable. And if they do it right, like the Tower of London, they’re still interesting to history buffs too. It’s interesting to look at the top museums and attractions in the world and see what they can do, to think about what I’d want to do with a museum that I (hopefully) someday work at. And to think how I would incorporate these ideas (even just a little bit) in the museums I’ve worked at in the past.

S as in… snail?

I like to pretend I’ve got it all together. New country? Sure! I’m a pro! England can’t be that different, can it? Because after all, it’s our Motherland and we both spell the right way (colour, cheque). Easy.

Not so much.

The following is a list of the things in the last few days that have had people glaring at me and thinking “Ugh. American.” (I don’t expect many people to realize that I am, in fact, Canadian.)

1. Dollars?

Sunday I went on one of those hop-on-hop-off city tours of Newcastle. In typical fashion, I arrived at the bus stop just as the bus was pulling away and had to wait the full 30 minutes for the next one. Sigh.

When the bus finally arrived, I hopped on and smiled at the bus driver. There was a silence.

“Uh, so it’s what, 8 dollars?” I say, finally. He laughs. I try to correct myself as quickly as possible. “I mean.. pounds.. not dollars…”

“8 dollars wouldn’t get you very far, love.” You’re telling me.

2. Can you repeat that please?

I hadn’t eaten anything all day Sunday. My stomach is not happy, so I didn’t push it. After thoroughly exploring the city, I came home briefly to put away my camera and pick a place to eat from the city guide I had. I finally chose one and headed off in that direction.

I walked nearly across the city, only to discover that this place was not open on Sundays. I then proceeded to walk the streets and realize that most places weren’t open on Sundays. I wanted a real meal, something that someone brought out to me. But the only places I could find that were open were McDonald’s and Subway. A lot of the places I passed had been serving food until 5pm, but were now only serving drinks.

I finally found a place to eat. Apparently a vodka bar? But it had food. I went in and sat down. The waitress finally came to ask what I wanted to order. I ordered the veggie burger and then asked her what was on tap. Do people not ask that in England? Is there a different saying for it?

“Like, lagers?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah.” I’m so articulate. Keep in mind that this was only the second conversation I’d had outside of my head all day. She listed them all really fast. I blinked.

“Um… can you repeat that please?” I asked, timidly. I was really hoping that one of the beers she listed was Newcastle Brown, because, well, I’m in Newcastle and it’s a great beer.

“Something, something, Carlsberg, something else,” she said.

“Um, I’ll have a pint of Carlsberg…”

3. Um, which one again?

This happened to me twice. I’m okay with bills (do they call them notes here?) but as soon as I get to the change part, I can’t tell a penny from a… 20p?

When I went to pay admission for Castle Keep, it took me a good two minutes of riffling through my wallet. I knew they had a 50 cent (p?) piece. But I could not remember what it looked like.

Then I paid for my dinner. The waitress who already didn’t like me much.

“That’ll be 10 pounds and 5 p,” she said. I handed her a 20 pound note.

“Uh, I have… 5 cents.” Cursing myself in my head, I know it’s not cents. She waited. I riffled through my wallet. Finally, I gave up and pulled out a 10p and handed it to her. She gave me a look.

“It’s 5p.”

“Um, yeah, which one is that again?” I asked.

“The small silver one.”

“Oh.” I handed her the 5p.

4. S or F?

People never think of their own accents as hard to understand. I certainly never thought anyone would have any trouble understanding me. I guess it’s one of those culture-centric things we do.

Yesterday morning I called the electricity, water and broadband companies to get my accounts set up. That required stating my address. Easy enough, right?

Wrong. My postcode ends in the letters S and G.

Everytime I gave my postcode, they thought I had said F rather than S. And then when they said it back to me, I thought they were saying S rather than F. This was worst with the lady at BT Broadband. She was desperately trying to find my address in the system.

“I think I must have your postcode wrong,” she said. She spelt it out. “…And F as in foxtrot, G as in golf?”

“Oh. No. It’s S.. as in snail.” I tried to think of a better s word. It failed me. S as in snail?! Sigh.

Far away

She’s packed up her bags, she’s heading out
She says, “I know that I’m ready,”
With such beautiful doubt.

Here’s where I wax poetic about distances and the spaces between. With a few steps, a car ride, a transatlantic flight, I leave behind the place I have lived for 22 years. I leave behind what I thought I knew for something I want to know. I exchange dollars for pounds, boxes for suitcases. I exchange endings for beginnings, the minute the plane leaves the ground.

My suitcases are too heavy to lift comfortably. No doubt I’ll struggle to pull them off the baggage claim, and someone will have to help me before I either fall over or knock someone out. My head is a storm of conflicting worry and excitement. No doubt I’ll hesitate at the gate, doubt myself and my plans.

The feeling of anticipation has been keeping me awake. I haven’t slept more than the bare minimum in two weeks. There’s too much to do, too much to think about.

And when I take my seat on the airplane, I’ll lean back and daydream as the plane lifts off. I’ll feel all of the doubt and worry fade away and leave behind only the excitement. With my headphones on, I’ll give my journey a soundtrack to be proud of. Leaving songs. Love songs. Life.

And by tomorrow I’ll be in England. And cold.

Far away far away, I want to go far away.
To a new life on a new shore line.
Where the water is blue and the people are new.
To another island, in another life.

Newcastle-upon-Tyne

The first tentative decision has been reached. I have decided (I think) to do my graduate degree at Newcastle University in Newcastle-upon-Tyne in England. I will be getting an MA in Greek and Roman Archaeology. The program lets me do Heritage/Collections Management along with more traditional archaeological methods courses. I’ll also be going to both Rome and Athens during the year. Newcastle-upon-Tyne (one of two English Newcastle’s, the other is Newcastle-under-Lyme) is pretty close to Hadrian’s Wall, so apparently we’ll be studying Roman archaeology there too.

Newcastle itself is a smaller city in the North East, about 2.5 hours from Edinburgh and 5 hours from London. It’s surrounded by beautiful English countryside, it’s said. It’s a shipping town, but because of the university has a student population too. Newcastle University is apparently a “Russell Group” school, which is England’s equivalent to Ivy League. Which sounds pretty awesome to me. I guess I always figured if I was doing a classic’s degree anywhere but Oxford or Cambridge I was a step down from the best anyway. Apparently not so!

I was conflicted, trying to decide between Newcastle, Edinburgh and Leicester. I wrote a pro/con list last night with the help of Kristen, Chris and Taylor. We decided the only real reason I wanted to go to the University of Edinburgh was because I loved the city, not the program. And I decided on my own that the only reason I wanted to go to Leicester was because it was so close to London. But, in the end, I think I’ll really like Newcastle. After all, I hated Dublin and adored Galway - so maybe I’m a small to medium sized town person.

But as Chris said last night- no matter where I end up it’s going to be amazing. I’m going to be in England, doing my master’s. Doing a respected master’s program in a field I actually love (as opposed to my Bachelor of Journalism which I’ve hated since day one).

This isn’t the final decision. I’m not ready to press any buttons or make it official. But I think this is it. And I’m really excited. I called Fae to tell her - she needed to be the first person I told, officially. England.. England is ours. It was our dream. And someday, maybe we’ll be there together. But this is just the beginning.

If I could wish for anything in my life I hope that it never stops being full of firsts.