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Recent News... Just for Pope Gregory... |
2001-11-26 - 11:34 a.m. U.K. Day 8: Caution! Cows when flashing. We sleep blissfully late in the lake of a king bed with a really snuggly duvet. After checkout, we head for our pilgrimage stop - the Royal Armoury at Leeds. Again, maps do us no good, but there's a really ugly helmet they use as their symbol (The Maximillian I gift to Henry VIII - black mask looking thing, with teeth, including horns and spectacles done in brass). We follow the horned helmet signs and easily find the Armoury. Tip one when visiting an armory - try not to go on Saturdays. Weekends bring troops of small children who become bloodthirsty and boisterous at the site of armor and weaponry. Tip two - don't go the same day they're having a Veterans rememberance parade. Leeds Armory is five floors, I mean six floors. (They often number Zero/Ground, Floor One, Floor Two, ... in Europe, so I keep forgetting to round up.) With the parade trying to get organized, we decide to start on the top floors and work downward. Disaster one - the camera battery dies. Rob has a lovely digital camera that's great for museum pictures. It zooms well, takes high resolution pictures, and will take amazing shots without the forbidden flash. But, it requires lots of power to operate so it burns through the battery charge fairly fast. Rob switches to the second battery, but there's no way that'll last through the day. So I nip downstairs and ask if we can plug a battery charger anywhere in the museum. Sorry, no - our electrician must inspect every piece of electrical equipment before we plug it in. With the frantic rigging of the podium mike for the Rememberance festivities, I find this unlikely. Seems the sort of answer you get when they want to say no but don't want an argument. But I am evil. The fourth floor includes a quite corner bench near the lift (elevator), next to the display of the 1357 hunting manual with a power outlet just next to the window overlooking the river. I get my backpack out of the car, stuff it with a nice book and the charger. Backpack casually tossed in the corner, my jumper (sweater) over the lot, and I am the picture of a poor weary wife waiting on her armor mad husband. Hey, I can play this role. An hour into the adventures of Bishop Blackie in Andrew Greely's White Smoke and Roland comes back to a rested helpmate and a fully charged battery. Have I won back the brownie points for being lost in the V&A? Rob beams happily and nips out to the car. He filled two memory cards on the first battery and needs to download them to the laptop before taking the newly charged second battery out for a whirl. We explore the second and third floors together. The second floor has an indoor combat ring, shades of Rene d'Anjou or Maximillian woodcarvings. The third floor forms a gallery around the tiltyard display below, featuring wonderful illumination displays. Not the originals, mind, but who can complain when you get the plans for the 1520 Field of Cloth of Gold royal pavilions? And the scorecards from those jousts? (Oh my happy little list officer heart - the scores of Henry VIII and Francois I, who were fighting on the same tournament team.) We move from the third floor gallery and are admiring the armor displays around the second floor combat ring when two gentleman carrying 15th century, two-handed German swords wander by. Hey, Rob I pull him from the armor displays Those guys just went by with swords and a copy of Talhoffer (15th century German fencing manual - cause you know that duel scene in Princess Bride when they are discussing fencing techniques? They're quoting period fencing manuals.) Andrew and Dean give a lovely demo of 15th century fencing using two-handed swords- Stykar would've been thrilled. But it's time for lunch, not that I can persuade Rob to stop staring at armor long enough to eat, so I take the sandwich snack and the charger back to my corner. Sorry, miss, you can't eat in the gallery. I jump guiltily, but realize the guard's only objecting to my crisps (potato chips), so I put them away. Rob comes back from filling the memory cards again to a mostly charged battery, and we head for the outdoor tiltyard for the 2 pm calvary demo. They have a nice tiltyard, sand packed as most were to cushion falls. They do a twenty minute equitation games demo with a English Civil War lancer, an American Civil War soldier (strange to see American uniforms in a British museum), a British Dragoon, and a WWI British calvary officer. Stop at the car to download the pictures again (The day's tally was a total of 380 MB/500+ pictures in case you're curious. Hey, it's his obsession and he's an amazing tooluser.) I wind through the shop while Rob takes more pictures, and round out my lunch with a snack of Twix and Smirnoff Ice. The bookstore proves fatally dangerous and we leave with two sacks of thick armor books. The Craft yard features demos of people doing period leather work, gunsmithing and reproduction armoring. The armor shop is deserted, but Rob peers enviously at the racks of stakes, hammers and tools - they even have some original armoring tools. Ah, well - they'd be way too heavy to carry home on the plane. Getting out of Leeds is another horrible Zen driving adventure. As has been my theme, I'll repeat maps don't help unless someone tells you what road you are *on*. We eventually (big sigh of relief) find the A road to the motorway and head for Scotland. It would've been a gorgeous drive through the lake country - in daylight. But at this time of year, it's dark by 4 pm, so it's slaloming down dark country roads. I'm still figuring out British road signs. Our new one for the day was a wide variety of yield sign with different symbols in center. Rob's favorite was the yield/caution signs along the A road stating 'Cows 150 yards ahead when flashing.' 150 yard later, you see dormant pedestrian (?) crosswalks in front of cattle grates. I wonder what they use to match the 'Caution, Elderly crossing' sign we spotted on the side road? We pass signs for the village of Giggleswick which makes Rob, well, giggle. They must hate that name. Can you imagine what they put on their high school team jerseys? I say. Yeah, a laughing candle. The main drag to Edinburgh is another A road. Splits from the M road into Glasgow and takes you northeast. It's like driving the holler roads in my mother's Appalachian town - I can't believe anything this small is the main drag. For once, finding the Sheraton is easy and (can you believe it?) we've been randomly upgraded again. I should always let Rob do the booking. Still no jacuzzi, but a huge King bed covered with wonderful feather duvets and a sitting area with a very worthy couch and squishy chair next to a great view of Edinburgh castle. � � � 
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