Monuments

One of the neat things about going to London is that there is always something happening. I suppose that it's easier to notice things when you are a tourist on the lookout for something to do, but nevertheless, here it was our last day and stuff was happening all over the place. Today it would be centered around Trafalgar Square.

As part of the commemoration of the bicentennial of the Battle of Trafalgar, there was a re-enactment of Admiral Lord Nelson's funeral procession. Mindful of the time our flight was to leave, we set up camp in front of the Tower of London and hung around until the procession showed up.

I had misread the paper. The time I was expecting it to go by was, in fact, the time that it was preparing to leave Greenwich. On the bright side, it was a lovely day, and we had a decent head start in getting a good place to watch along the riverbank.

The procession itself was a bit odd. I understand that when the real one happened, the official procession was joined by just about every other vessel on the river, making for what must have been an overwhelming sight. The problem is that when the folks in their pontoon boats came along, their demeanor seemed to be more of a happy cocktail parade then a somber moment of remembrance, provoking the office workers who stepped out on their lunch break to watch the event to engage in the following banter (more or less):

Person A: "Just what is it that causes people to want to wave at a stranger just because they are on a boat?"

Person B: "I think it's because they want a ride and are hoping that the boat will come by and pick them up."

P A: "So why do people on boats wave at people on other boats?"

P B: "Because they have a special bond in that they know how happy they are to be on a boat and not being forced to pick up some useless stranger from the shore just because they're being waved at."

An attempt to return some amount of anachronistic dignity to the proceedings occurred when the HMS Belfast gave a fifteen gun salute. The jolly cocktail parade was at once transformed into a thrilling cocktail parade with noise and smoke. Everyone went "Hurrah" and then loped back to their respective offices and tourist trails. The lack of a sense of mourning was understandable when commemorating someone who has been in the ground for two centuries, but in retrospect I wanted one. This was the end of a fine trip, and I was a little sad about that.

The procession continued past us towards some ceremonies at Trafalgar Square, where a different event had occurred earlier in the day. The Square contains four statue plinths, one of which is used as a rotating venue for contemporary statuary, the most recent of which was to be unveiled that same morning. I am not sure if it was just coincidence that Alison Lapper Pregnant was chosen to coincide with the Nelson remembrance, but I'd like to presume that it was. Statues of war heroes are rarely put up until after the fighting has long ceased. It says something about the world that we live in now that the place of a hero can be taken by someone who is battling a few odds and giving life.

Trafalgar Square had also just days before been host to the culmination of celebrations for the English Ashes victory. At this event one of the cricketers, a gentleman named Freddie Flintoff, seemed to be rather amazingly disconnected. The British press, jumping at the opportunity to roll up their wonk sleeves and crunch hard data, reviewed all of his public appearances during the eighteen or so hours between the end of the victory match and his arrival at the feet of the Nelson Column and calculated that in the interim he had consumed his weight in champagne.

I believe the proper term from a more heroic age would be "tapping the Admiral."