Dean’s Yard where the Abbey administrative offices are…
When we first arrived at Westminster, the sky was a white spread and we were worried about rain. But, we expected that our London Pass would help us get in front of the lines. This silly expectation was based on what the woman at the London Pass desk at the airport had said. She was wrong and so we waited at the end of a queue half a mile long.
Behind us stood a small village of Italian people. Several grey-haired grandparents, many ladies with eye-catching glasses and a few children, one them a baby in a stroller.
The men stood by, stodgy with their wine-greased bellies ripping through their skirts, silent as bricks. The women did all the talking and they did talk all at once because what is the need of taking turns? My family talks like that but it’s funnier to hear it done in a foreign tongue.
Sometimes they would break into ripping laughter and then their clattering voices would fall one on top of the other until it was no longer clear who was leading the conversation and who was answering. They seemed oblivious to the other people – many of them nice demure Brits who had come to the capital for a quick holiday (I guess) and other even more discreet Asians staring up at the Westminster bricks. Should he take one more picture?
The Italians moved as if one body and they only stopped moving when they ran into another body.
We kept inching forward to make space between us and them but they moved tighter so that I always had someone’s elbow in my back. Had I lifted my arm the little grandmother would have moved into my arm pit? No personal space issues whatsoever.
We were laughing about this and they noticed us but they did not have enough sense of self-reproach to think it had something to do with them. They looked at us, as steady streams of speech continued to flow from their lips, and smiled as if to congratulate us. They seemed genuinely happy to see other people just as merry as they.
How can you be mad at that?
When we finally entered the Abbey, we were immediately stopped for a prayer. It must have been around 1 pm but for whatever reason that was prayer time and so everyone more or less stood still and listened to the Holy brother chant his prayer. Some people looked confused, as we were, for this was an unannounced affair. He just stood in a corner by the entrance and suddenly began to invoke his Holiness. Once that was over people shuffled off and circulated.
Because there are a lot of columns and halls the Abbey feels clunky and slightly oppressive. That is why you must visit the courtyard.
Alleys along the main halls lead to outdoor corridors where you can sit and take a break. The ironwork on the windows here is exquisite and together with the courtyard make for the most beautiful part of the Abbey in my opinion.
Onewayoranother wowed by the Abbey!
By the time we left we had some kind of sunlight action going on…so we had our first London meal…
…what else but Fish and Chips!
