When is a Tower not a Tower?

On Monday, Bob and I found our way to the train station near Chris and Roger's and started the requisite sight-seeing. We walked over the Tower Bridge and toured the Tower of London. Much to our surprise, it doesn't seem like our idea of a tower at all. Rather, it's like a small town. The Yeoman Warden who led our tour talked about the history of the tower, its reputation for executions, etc. (You would know him better as a Beefeater, their nickname). He did a good job of explaining the history and highlights and we were able to see where the higher-ranking prisoners stayed and where they got the privilege of being executed in private, rather than in public out of "respect" for their positions in society.

From there, we walked to St. Paul's Cathedral and looked in. We opted out of the full tour because of the price, but were able to see that it was a magnificent place. Eating lunch on the steps of such places seems to be a typical European custom, and the English certainly are undaunted by the weather which switched from raining to sunny about every 10 minutes or so all day.

Afterwards, we crossed a pedestrian bridge known locally as the "Wobbly Bridge" to the Tate Modern Gallery. We got pulled into an exhibit which focused on conditions in the major urban areas of the world and how they are changing. Since Bob has had to deal with some of these issues as part of the Trail Council, it was particularly interesting for us.

At about 4 p.m., or 16:00, we met Roger and toured his office. It is in a beautiful maze of alleys full of 400 year-old pubs and shops. He had taken our overnight bag into town for us and then he was kind enough to literally put us on the train to Stevenage where we were met by John.

John's wife Bev managed to get out of a meeting she was supposed to attend about the future closing of her school, so was able to join us for dinner. John made sausages, mash (mashed potatoes) and haggis. The latter item was surprisingly good! We all teased about our lack of enthusiasm when he told us it was on the menu, but had to admit that it was delicious. I must say that I've consumed more meat since landing in England than I normally do in a month.

Today we visited at the school where Bev is the Assistant Head Teacher (sort of like an assistant principal) and John works with a cadre of people similar to guidance counselors. I got to sit in a Spanish class with students about the same age as those I teach. I learned that language teachers are the same everywhere, regardless of their national origin and training. The lesson was on numbers 1-1,000. The teacher had a Smart Board and used interactive website games to reinforce the lesson. (Sound familiar, Shawna?) Afterwards, we used 10 minutes for her students to ask me questions about the U.S. and our schools. Sadly, they mostly wanted to know how many shootings and stabbings I had witnessed in the school hallways.

We also got to spend some time with older students, those preparing to take courses that will eventually lead to enrollment in the university. That was pleasant since both of us have become accustomed to working with much younger students. What we noticed about the experience as a whole is that there are more similarities than differences, but the differences are interesting. The most salient is that the school is not locked and we spotted probably more than 10 doors that lead directly outside. Students routinely go outside between buildings to change classes, have PE and eat their lunches. They also have a 15-minute break in the morning where they can do so. Since Columbine, that seems to be a thing of the past in the U.S.

We are back at Bev and John's now, preparing for a short walk to the High Street (business district) of old Stevenage, and tonight will head into London for the play.

Cheerio!