Monday, 23rd May

To say that I was excited about our plans for the day would be an understatement. It was going to be a day filled with famous landmarks, looted treasures, priceless manuscripts and new experiences.

Day four in England, and I was finally going to ride a train. This may not sound like a big deal to most of you, but it was a big deal to me. I had never ridden a train before. Not a proper train. Sure, there were those little tourist trains that run through theme parks and the old streetcar at King Jack Park, but they don't count. I wanted to ride a real train that was actually going someplace.

In anticipation of this very moment, I had purchased a BritRail Pass before I left home. This turned out to be an excellent investment. I encourage visitors to the UK who plan on travelling around by rail to consider it. My pass was good for unlimited travel within England on all trains (except for the special excursion trains) for a designated period of time. You can also get ones that include Wales and Scotland. There are several different packages available, so it is easy to find one that fits in with your plans. But, you have to purchase them before you get to the UK because they are not available inside the country.

According to my travel guide, BritRail passes are available in the US. But when I called the number listed on the British Rail website, I found myself talking to a travel agent in Montreal. With shipping and handling costs, my pass cost $386. If I had purchased individual tickets for each train ride, I estimate the cost would have been at least double that amount.

After breakfast Teuchter packed us a lunch and the rest of Mrs Dreadful's delicious rock cakes then drove Z and me to Fleet to catch the train to London. Luggage was a problem. I packed a suitcase and my tote and left the rest of it at Teuchter Towers. I seriously took too much luggage. Next time I will definitely do better. Besides the nuisance of lugging it about, it is expensive to take extra bags.

Z is an old hand at riding trains, as I'm sure everyone in Britain is. I've heard loads of complaints about the public transport system, but to someone who lives where there isn't any at all, it was a fun experience. The big surprise of the morning was that the ticket seller at Fleet didn't seem to know what my rail pass was. And the porters on the trains looked at it in puzzlement most of the time I was there. No one questioned it's validity, but it was Day 10 and Oxford before I ran into someone who actually knew what to do with it and wrote a date on it.

We travelled from Fleet to Waterloo Station, one of the busiest and most famous train stations in the world. If Z hadn't been with me I would have been totally flummoxed as to what to do next. However, by the time I flew back home I had gained enough confidence with the system that I'm sure I could now make my way about London and the country by myself if necessary.

We met Agapanthus, who lives in London and is a fabulous tour guide, stowed my bags in Left Luggage, and set off on foot. We walked past the Royal Festival Hall and across the Hungerford Bridge. We had a relaxing picnic near the river before setting off for Trafalgar Square, taking a rambling route via the Houses of Parliament and Westminster Abbey. We had intended to go inside the Abbey, but the queue was so horrific we decided to skip it. Tourists! Sheesh. I wish I could say I remember the exact route we took and the names of all the buildings Agapanthus pointed out, but alas I can't. I started to overload on place names in a hurry. Victoria Embankment, Bridge Street, Charing Cross, Whitehall, Downing Street – too many familiar names.

Seeing so many famous landmarks was a real kick. And yes, we were close by when Big Ben chimed. I'm glad we did a walking tour rather than a bus tour. It let me stop and gawk to my heart's content. I was a bit disappointed that we couldn't walk down Downing Street to Number 10, but I understand the need for security and was okay with it. It was also the wrong time to see inside the Houses of Parliament. That would have been a treat. And I was surprised that people can't feed the pigeons in Trafalgar Square anymore. My information was behind the times in that regard.

I think you would have to live in London or nearby to actually experience everything the metropolitan area has to offer. I knew before I arrived that I would have to make choices and eliminate some of the places I wanted to visit. In an area with so much available to see and do it is necessary to have priorities. Agapanthus and Z knew which two places in London were at the top of my list and made sure I didn't miss them.

I was beginning to wear out, so we took a bus to a spot close to the British Museum. I wasn't the only one who had never been there. It was Z's first visit as well. Which brings up an interesting point. During the planning phase of my trip, Ben remarked that when I went home I would have seen more of England than many of the natives. If this travelogue does nothing else, I hope it encourages my British readers to appreciate what your country has to offer. I know how easy it is to say you'll go another time. I mean you can go any time, right? So you put it off and never get around to it. We all take for granted the things in our own back yards.

Agapanthus is a frequent visitor to the British Museum and was delighted to show us around. Having someone with us who was so familiar with the collection was a genuine pleasure. Even though I work as a public library director, my degree is in history. To be in the British Museum with all of that loot was quite a heady experience for me.

I suppose this is as good a time as any to say that I really don't give a rip whether the major exhibits are stolen or not. I know it is politically correct to say what a shame it is and that certain things, like the Elgin Marbles, should be returned to their countries of origin. To be totally honest I'm not bothered a bit. I am actually grateful to be able to find so much in a central location. I could never afford to travel all around the world to see these exhibits in their original settings. Thanks to some overzealous collectors, I don't have to. And if they hadn't been taken to England and preserved, many of the artifacts might not be available for public viewing at all – or even still exist, for that matter.

The collection is truly spectacular. The afore-mentioned Elgin Marbles and the Rosetta Stone are probably the most famous permanent exhibits. There is such a wealth of artifacts from all over the world that is hard to know where to begin. The Egyptian sculpture gallery; a colossal lion from the shrine of Ishtar Nimrod; the Lewis Chessmen; the Discus Thrower from Hadrian's villa at Tivoli; a second century statue of Buddha from northwest India; Greek amphora; 25th Dynasty amulets; the ring of Queen Ethelswith; a reliquary from Thessalonika; ivory panels from Constantinople; a Hopewell smoking pipe from Mound City, Ohio; an Olmec jade ax; a skull container from the Solomon Islands; one of the stone figures from Easter Island; a bodhisattva from Pakistan; 5500 year-old Neolithic jade carvings. It goes on and on.

I found a couple of interesting book on heraldry that I could use for my summer reading programme and bought myself a souvenir tee shirt with the famous Lewis Chessmen on the front. Also the obligatory souvenir guide and post cards.

One thing bothered me about the arrangement of exhibits. Those things that are actually from Britain, like the magnificent Sutton Hoo exhibit and many of the medieval artifacts, seem to be given less importance than the plundered loot. I think they should have it on the main floor rather than upstairs. There is so much to see that many people run out of time and never make it to the second floor. One of my guide books recommends allocating an hour to the Museum. An hour! How ridiculous. You could spend an hour just looking at the stones from the Parthenon. I understand that the items on the main floor are probably there because of the weight involved. Some of them are mammoth, like a set of Assyrian gates. But still, they could find room. They found room for gift shops, a book store and a food court. They could find a way to feature their own history on the main floor.

The old British Library is inside the British Museum. Agapanthus used to do research there. Apparently it is difficult to get permission. You have to have an actual reason to be there in order to gain access to the collection. She mentioned all of this in passing, without seeming the least bit smug about it. In her place I would have been downright cocky. Which brings up our second destination for the day – the British Library.

It was a fairly easy walk from the Museum to the Library. I remember going past buildings which clearly had residences on the upper floors and wondering what it must be like to live within walking distance of so many major sites. I asked Agapanthus if she knew how much it would cost to buy one of them, and she turned a bit pale. It looks like I'll be keeping my one story house in Webb City. She wasn't sure, but thought at least a million pounds. Woo! You can buy a lot of plane tickets for that kind of money.

The British Library. What can I say. OH MY GOD! I thought I had died and gone to heaven. This is without a doubt one of the coolest places I've ever seen. Can you imagine what it's like for a librarian from the middle of nowhere to be at the British Library with the Diamond Sutra and the Lindisfarne Gospels and the Magna Carta and the Kelmscott Chaucer and the Codex Sinaiticus and, and, and... there are so many absolutely priceless manuscripts there that you go numb. After an hour I was a bit dazed... Shakespeare first folio, you say... Perhaps if I have time. Right now I'm looking at Sultan Baybar's Qur'an... Good grief! Horatio, Vicount Nelson certainly had poor handwriting and the Jane Austen is nearly illegible. Look at that smudge. It looks like Mozart was eating bread and jam that morning... Oh, look here, a da Vinci notebook... Those stamps don't look particularly impressive, what are they? Caused the American Revolution? Here's Lady Jane Grey's prayer book. And over there is a Beowulf.

There is a permanent exhibit on papermaking and book binding, plus we saw a special exhibit on Hans Christian Andersen. Agapanthus bid us a fond farewell during the Andersen exhibit and rushed off to join her husband for a special evening out. It was also time for Z and I to head north and for yet another new experience – my first trip on the London Underground.

We took the Underground from nearby Euston Station to Waterloo, retrieved my luggage, then took the Underground to Marylebone Station where we caught a train for Birmingham. I had no idea the subway was so deep. We went down and down and down some more. Thank goodness there are escalators, especially for the coming back up part. I was somewhat uneasy about it, but found it cleaner than expected and non-threatening, although a bit confusing at first. It is clearly a quick, efficient way to get around the city. The London buses I rode during my stay seemed to take forever. I suspect it's often faster on foot.

While at Marylebone we had time for a bit of a rest before our train arrived. Z suggested we have a Chai Steamer from one of the small kiosks set up inside the station. It was wonderful – not quite worth a trip across the Atlantic to sample, but almost. It was by far the best hot drink I had in England.

Z and I talked nonstop from London to Birmingham. He is an extremely good travelling companion. I learned that Birmingham has two train stations. Fortunately they are only a few blocks apart. We arrived at Snow Hill station and had a short walk through the Bull Ring to New Street station where we caught a local train to Z's neighbourhood. Then it was about a 4 minute walk from the stop to Z's flat, which was above a corner shop in a lovely old Victorian building. He has since purchased a house just up the street. He fixed me a cup of tea and I settled into my room. I was looking forward to the following day and our visit to Warwick Castle.

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