Even though our feet were still aching after the trip to Greenwich, I had read about the Lord Mayor's annual Thames River Festival to be held 12-13 September. Because I can't resist street fairs and because I read about it in the silly airline newsletter on the flight over, it was worth
taking a look. When we got to the festival, it was buzzing with energy and filled with Londoners and tourists, all eating and drinking and partaking in general merriment.
The theme of the festival was for the entire city to gather around the long communal tables (pictured) in a celebration of the city's relationship with the river and (more importantly) in my opinion, to sample all sorts of food. From Southwark bridge, we walked our way down past the food stalls, stopping to buy things to eat and to marvel at the wine making station, where it really was just children
and adults
making
mashed grape cocktail. One thing that I noticed was that while street fairs are undoubtedly not foreign to the U.S., and especially New York, the Thames Festival was so unique from all the other ones I've been to.
In NY, good weather and slow traffic are the only two criteria for a street fair to pop up, and
then you can buy all the bad art and cinged kebabs you want. However, all the food at the Thames festival was prepared on site, using organic ingredients, and all incredibly unique. We saw Moroccan chicken dishes, curries, falafel, traditional British pies, whole Portuguese roast pig. And I am not kidding when I say that even the ice cream here is better. Happy cows are because of socialism. Kidding.
We walked along the river, stopping to take photos or to watch street performers. Eventually walking about 3 miles from our original spot on London Bridge to Waterloo, where we decided to head over to Oxford St. to do some shopping since we were in the area. Well, another thing I've noticed about this city - the maps are NOT to scale. In Manhattan, even if things look far away, because the city is so dense and small, you're much closer than you think. However, if something looks close on a map in London, you can bet 20 quid that it is 5 times further away than you're willing to walk.
At the end of the day, we Google mapped the route we had taken over the day and it came out to be 5+ miles we had walked across Central London. My feet were unbelievably sore. As we left the festival, I started thinking about plausible something like this would be in the city. Pretty damn near impossible, since closing down FDR would cause traffic issues of enormous proportions. Yet, New York and London are both booming metropolises, with heavily congested transport systems and many people to move around. Perhaps with the new High Line something like the Thames festival would be more possible, especially since it always seems like New Yorkers need the day off.
One of my most intense fascinations with the city of London is the vast amount of history that is contained within the city walls. It is as if the new and the old co-exist in some strange kind of medieval-post modern harmony, lending contrast and depth to such a varied and unique city. I've always been obsessed with knowing the history of where I visit, and there is so much significance to everything I see and visit that I realise how small any person is in comparison to the ground we stand on. While it is overwhelming, I can safely say that London is one of these best cities I have ever been to, so much so that I've given some thought to moving here in the future. But more on that later.
On our way to Oxford St., we got quite lost in Spitalfields, and specifically, on Aldwich St. I mention this because the next Monday in class, my history teacher pointed out ancient roads that have survived since the days of Roman London, Aldwich St. being one of them.
After browsing the racks at River Island, Primark, and others, we headed over the Selfridges' food hall for coffee and to rest our feet. Selfridges is remarkably similar to
Nordstrom, and it was actually founded by an America, Harry Gordon Selfridge, who coined the motto, "the customer is always right." It was in the food halls that we saw something that made us stop in our tracks and fall to our knees.
A whole wall dedicated to American staples - namely, Oreos, Skippy peanut butter, Aunt Jemima, Smuckers jelly, disgusting Kraft boxed mac n' cheese, and other Yankee classics. I think I speak for all of us when I say that we were overcome with emotion just looking at this wall - for it hadn't really sunk in that the cultural differences between home and here we all that real, until we realised that neither one of us had eaten any of these things in weeks. I'll write more on this later, but a couple days ago I was taking a shower and it really hit me: I am in another freaking country. To be honest, I've hardly considered myself to be an American, although I hold an American passport and attend a U.S. university and live in the United States. I've mentioned it before, but I've always associated being American with being patriotic, or with having a relative who was part of the revolution, or some other silly idea like that. However, it is the first identity I've reached for since being here, and suddenly all these questions about nationality, citizenship, and race came flooding back to me.
Katie bought a jar of marshmallow fluff just to commemorate the occasion. On the jar is says, "The delicious American marshmallow spread." Quite hilarious how the foods we regard as everyday are put in the "specialty items" section of a British market. At the food hall I also spotted the one thing I had been waiting to try since I arrived: PIE. And since my blog is aptly titled Grey Skies & Pork Pies, I had to take a bunch of pictures before digging in. Now having tried it, I can understand why it is one of the hallmarks of British cuisine - as fundamental as a good pint and as ubiquitous as Amy Winehouse.
More photos here.
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