London November 5-11 2007
Monday, November 5 2007
For a little background, UBS is a giant global bank, one of the largest in the world. They hired Monitor Group which specializes in custom designing training programs for young but promising bank executives. UBS handpicks several hundred new-comers to take their ASCENT program to breed them as the next generation of bank owners. Monitor Group hired Peter Bubriski who specializes in theater-based presentation and management skills training. Peter hired me because I have done similar things through the Association of Children’s Museums and the Boston Children’s Museums.
That’s why I was going to London, and that’s why I was rehearsing my lines when Peter met me at Logan Airport for a 7:45pm flight. We said our hellos and agreed to chat a little on the flight over. Unfortunately, it was a very full flight and I was in the middle seat in the very last row. Having flown a few times in recent years I was no longer claustrophobic, but it was definitely cramped and not at all comfortable. Luckily, Virgin Atlantic has movies and TV shows on demand with a little video screen in the back of every seat.
Tuesday, November 6
We arrived at Heathrow on time with no troubles; local time 7:15am. A quick ride on the Heathrow Express brought us to the enormous and Victorian style Paddington Station inside London proper. Expecting our room at the hotel would not be ready for several hours we were in no particular hurry, so we stopped for a light breakfast at a café inside the station. Soon, we were ready to move on again. The very long line to get a cab moved quickly due to a new regulation in which all cab fares leaving from Paddington were the same as long as they were within a certain zone. That means everyone got a cab quickly, each cab was full, and everyone paid the same amount.
The Intercontinental Park Lane is a ultra modern 4-star hotel. It had little of the classic antique charm that one normally thinks of with London hotels. Rather, it was stark and angular. The lobby was decorated with square, brightly lit vases in which sat thick sticks and long-stemmed flowers at odd angles. Very modern and cosmopolitan. The service was exemplary nonetheless. I do not mind luxury, but I still feel uncomfortable when the staff try to do things for me that I can do myself. When they said, “Let me take your bags to your room for you, sir.” The first thing I thought of was, well, I’m going there anyway…why would you come, too?
All of the staff were definitely on the ball. Once, I asked the concierge for ice in one of the conference rooms. She beamed and moved for the phone and said, “I’d be happy to take care of that right away for you sir,” making me feel like it would give her the greatest pleasure to accommodate me. One day in the elevator the gentlemen who checked me in a day ago, said, “How are you today Mr. Marino? Are you enjoying your stay?” He remembered my name. I told him yes, absolutely. He said, “Is there anything at else I can do? Is your room alright?” If I did not put the “do not disturb sign” out during the day they would fold all my clothes, clean or dirty, and straighten everything left out! I didn’t know where anything was when I got back! In another time and place think I would be one of those rich eccentrics who climbs his own ladders and makes his own tea. And my heavens…the bed was enormous. Once I climbed in at night I didn’t see the edge until the next morning. Each of the four pillows was as large as a pony!
Anyway, we had some time to kill before our rooms were ready so we dropped off our luggage and went for a stroll through Hyde Park. Just as we entered the south east corner, adjacent to the hotel, we saw a formation of black horses being ridden by men in black, red, and gold uniforms, with their gold armored breast plates smartly reflecting the bright sun. A little woman came out from the information shack and told us if we wanted to see the Queen we should follow the escort and go to Buckingham Palace! Apparently, we had arrived at the day and time the Queen was going to address Parliament as part of the ceremony welcoming in the new Prime Minister. Good timing!
So, we did just that, following the procession through Green Park. Strange thing about the British and their ceremonies; they don’t need anyone watching at all to derive meaning. At the palace when we were waiting for something to happen a man and woman marched, very formally, right up to crowd next to us. Everyone, including the cop next to the crowd barrier looked at them expectantly. The man in uniform said, “Can you open the gate, mate?” The cop opened the gate and they marched through it, turned left, and marched down the lane away from everything, until they were out of site. People they passed paid no attention to them at all. The band started playing and three royal carriages came out from behind the palace. They were all different, and they all had people in them so we had no idea which one was the queen. I waved equally as enthusiastically to all of them. Then a different band marched up from behind us to a cordoned off area in the park, where no one else was, and began to play. Hardly anyone turned to look, but they played with gusto just the same.
Peter and I went to the Leicester Square TKTS to get some half-price tickets. As it was still relatively early in the day we scored some 10th row seats to “Avenue Q” which I had heard was excellent, and Peter, who had seen it before, attested to. We roamed around the area for a bit, through Trafalgar Square, past the Portrait Gallery, St. James Castle, and around little shops Peter remembered from the time he spent there during his college days. Walking back through Green Park we split up deciding to meet later at the theater. I don’t know what Peter did, but it was a gorgeous, sunny, crisp, fall day, much like the weather we left in Boston. Much of Green Park is furnished with Plane Trees that have a distinctive scaly bark that drops off in fist size sheets. Apparently, they are a good sink for CO2, which is why they are a popular choice for urban parks. I laid down in a warm pile of their broad leaves and took a nap in the sunshine.
After about an hour I went back to the hotel to get into my room, showered, and then went out again to get some dinner before the show. There was a small dumpy looking place near the theater called the Canteen. I only went in because the prices were cheap, but I was not disappointed. I had a deliciously hot cream of mushroom soup with leeks and spinach, and sausage roll. I ate at a little table outside, watching the other theater-goers wander by.
The show was excellent and funny and everything I had heard about it. It’s kind of a cross between Sesame Street and The Simpson’s, or The Family Guy. There is a combination of puppets and live actors. It so good, it’s not for children.
Wednesday, November 7
Since Peter was the only person in London who knew it was my birthday, I wasn’t planning on doing anything “special,” so to speak. Being in London was quite good enough. I did go out for brunch with some friends in Boston the weekend before, in addition to the family celebration, so I did not feel the least bit slighted.
Breakfast was all laid out for the training participants when I arrived in the serving room at 8am. There were platters of food piled high with thick sausages, back bacon, cheesy scrambled eggs, fried eggs, vine tomatoes poached in olive oil, sautéed mushrooms, cups of fresh fruit with clotted cream, toast, little pasties with butter, tea, coffee, milk, and several kinds of juices. Everything was delicious.
Peter and I rehearsed from 9-12 and then broke for a lunch of salad, lamb chops, and breaded prawn. I was still full from breakfast but had no problem finishing everything on my plate. Liz, the local contractor who would complete our trio, arrived around 1:00pm. We all caught up, then rehearsed until 5pm. What I like about the way the three of us work together is when two of us are in a scene, the third will take an informal directors role and tell us what works and what doesn’t. Sometimes that situation can be frustrating if one of the three doesn’t agree with the others assessment. In our case, however, it seemed everyone was spot on. We all agreed and made the appropriate changes.
When we were done for the day I was not in the least bit hungry, but I was restless from so much sitting. So, I said good night to Peter and went for a walk along the Serpentine through Hyde Park and then down to Albert Hall. Nothing much was going on down that way so I wandered around some side streets. I was tempted to stop and see a lecture on the “Environment in Tibet” at The Royal Geographical Society, but still felt like I needed to keep moving. I found myself west of the hotel in front of Herrods. I ate at a fancy, though very reasonably priced sandwich shop across the street and had what they called “The Classic Club,” which was different than “The Classic Club” I had had the day before. This consisted of bacon, lettuce, tomato, ham, grilled chicken, avocado, egg, and a spicy mayonnaise…in a double decker sandwich. It was so full I needed to keep two toothpicks stuck in it to keep it from falling out.
By this time it was 8pm and I was very tired from staying awake for 24 hours. I was a long day of work and plenty of rich food. I headed back to Park Lane and bed.
Thursday, November 8th
Training day. Our part went as practiced, we set our cues, hit our marks, and facilitated good, thoughtful conversation. As we stepped off the stage the director of the program came up and whispered to me, “I couldn’t imagine it being better than last year, but it was.” So, good praise. All three of us were very pleased.
After a quick formal debrief, we had a quick lunch and said our goodbyes. Liz needed to head back to her family, Peter was getting picked up by friends and was off to spend the rest of the week in the countryside, and I was meeting my friend Mat and his wife Christina at 6pm at their home at Belsize Cresent in Hampstead, off of the Swiss Cottage stop on the Jubilee Line.
As I had a few hours to kill before then, I headed to the London Aquarium, which is supposed to be one of the best aquariums in Europe. On my way I spotted a tour outside Parliament. I decided to join that instead as the weather was still quite seasonable and I had been inside all morning. It was a very informative tour, about two hours long, around the Parliament building, Big Ben, Westminster Abby right next door, a collage grounds, and an adjacent park.
Afterwards, just as the guide sent us on our way a huge wind blew up from nowhere. In the center of a traffic circle was an old oak. All of the autumn leaves shot up into the air into an immense tall swirling column, as if they were caught in a tornado! The oohs and aahs turned into uh-oh! as it started pouring cold rain. Everyone scattered, me into a public toilet, to wait it out.
I got back to the hotel at around 5pm wet and a little cold. I sat and read in the lobby to dry off for a bit. Then I grabbed my luggage (from the hands of the porters), hopped on the tube, and made my way to Mat and Christina’s. Mat is a friend of mine from ImprovBoston who moved from Boston for work about 6 months ago. When he heard I was going to be in London he offered to let me use his place as a base of operations.
They live in Hamstead, in what is called a mews. That is, a block of apartments that surround a common yard. Theirs was adorable. You entered through a tall white arch that connected the two nearest building and into a cobbled courtyard. When I arrived Christina had her hands full with both of their 6-month-old twin boys in her arms! While she and Mat put them to bed I chatted with Christina’s friend “D” who was visiting from Rhode Island. She stayed with them for a week or so to help out before they could hire a nanny. From what Mat says, having two babies is more than twice the work and a near impossible task for one person to handle. I believe him. I helped out every once and a while holding one, or cooing appropriately, while his brother was put in a swing, etc. That was enough baby for me.
After a long week of travel and performance I fell asleep utterly exhausted.
Friday, November 9
The night before, I had booked a trip on Evan Evan’s Bus Tours so I arrived at Victoria Coach Station for a 9am departure. A very knowledgeable and dry-witted guide led this tour, named Jason. As we drove out of the city he pointed out where the very wealthy lived, and how his house was just next door to theirs. He only gave tours, for fun, you see.
Our first stop was Windsor Castle. What a beautiful building and estate. When Jason described the history of the place, I was reminded again just how old England really is. This was the oldest continuously occupied castle in the world. Sovereigns of England have lived there for almost 900 years. Once we were inside Jason got us all the audio guides and we went through at our own pace. As interesting as it was, there was a sameness too it: this beautiful room is expensive; so-and-so stayed here; this was a gift from rich king to mean king, etc. I skipped the dollhouses entirely. Apparently, they were exquisite. I much preferred walking the grounds and looking at the buildings. There was a chapel adjacent to the castle that had the most intricate stone and wood carvings I have ever seen, and probably can imagine. Mammoth wood screens over the choir loft, but with tiny scenes running the entire length.
The nest stop was Stonehenge. I learned this site is much more intricate and meaningful than most people are lead to believe. The whole area, for dozens of miles around, is dotted with burial sites, mounds, which hold the bodies of Bronze Age peoples. Many have been farmed over through the years, but the remaining ones are now preserved. And leading up to the actual henge (a circular configuration of rocks or wooden pillars) was a road inlaid into the plains, so it was below grade about four feet, which wound through the hills and all the way to the sea! Most people think this was a processional road. Stonehenge was not simply a single location where rituals happened; the whole was religiously significant for hundreds, if not thousands of years. Not only did they drag 50 ton rocks over 100 miles to this site, they dedicated the whole landscape to use in their ceremonies. The audio guide only made me want to learn more so I got a nice hard cover book from the gift shop. It was a bonus to see that the copy I picked up happened to have been signed by the author!
Next stop: Bath. This was a beautiful ancient Roman town, and I could have easily stayed for an entire day. In fact, I was tempted for a few minutes to ditch the tour and take the train back. I visited the baths, used by the Romans, which were fed by natural hot springs, and the adjoining museum. I really zipped through the museum as I was tired of wandering pensively and attentively listening to disembodied narrations in my ear. So, I explored the town and it’s little shops and bridges, and did some Christmas shopping.
Friday, November 10
I had no specific plans today other than getting to Leicester Square in the morning to catch an evening show. Having had such a full day the day before I decided to catch a matinee and then see what the evening would bring. “Boeing, Boeing” was one I had read about before, billed as a remake of a 60’s French farce. As the show was not until 2pm I wandered through the Portrait Gallery for a little while. Then I ate lunch sitting n Trafalger Square, eating bread, cheese, and olives I had bought yesterday.
“Boeing, Boeing” was a little slow to get started. The set up was excellent and laid out exactly what to expect: a swinging bachelor was simultaneously engaged to three different stewardesses from three different airlines. They all arrive in Paris on different days, and he has all of their schedules worked out perfectly. Nothing could possible go wrong. The inevitable happens, of course. But, in the beginning the timing and momentum was so slow I wondered, and still do, whether there was a new cast member, or if it just hadn’t been running very long to get into the swing of things. (I looked it up when I got home and it looks like the opposite is true, that it’s been running so long a little of the spark has gone out.) But, once the fiancées started arriving, and the maid got in on the mayhem things picked up all the way through to the end, including a few plot twists to keep it interesting. In a drawing room comedy you need a certain number of doors by which to come and go and hide behind. This one had seven!
Avenue Q hadn’t satiated my desire for a big musical, so I got some inexpensive tickets to Mary Poppins: The Musical, which I had not heard very much about at all. But, I like Mary Poppins the movie so I thought it would be just fine. In the few hours before the show I wandered down to the Thames and stopped by the Museum of Contemporary Art. I am not particularly a fan of contemporary art but thought it would be a good way to pass the time, and it was nearby. I wandered into a room with bizarre drawings on the wall and a boot with a light in it. That didn’t really do it for me so I followed the signs to the special gallery exhibition. In this room were some verbose essays scattered on a table. I suppose one could call it art because it has some meaning to someone…but not to me. Whatever the purpose, it was beyond my level of patience at the moment. So, I looked around for more galleries but found myself back at the main desk looking quizzically at my map. Surely that could not be the whole museum. I asked at the desk. Yes, those two rooms made up the entire Museum of Contemporary Art for London. I was back on the street 15 minutes after I entered.
So, I stopped at a little grocery store and purchased a cup of fruit and sat and ate on the north side of the Thames watching the Millennium Eye (a 443 foot high ferris wheel) slowly spin. Soon enough, I made my way back through Trafalgar to the Prince Edward Theater on Old Compton Street.
It seems to me that Marry Poppins: The Musical is a bit of a mess. Instead of simply a stage version of the movie, they attempted to take plots lines from other books in the Mary Poppins series of books. I can see why they wouldn’t just want to reproduce the movie onto the stage, but the result was a very disjointed storyline with ambiguous morale and unmemorable songs. Often they would play a melody from the movie but with different lyrics to it, so it was ultimately unsatisfying. Here are the three biggest offenders of convolution.
- When the kids are upset that Mary Poppins has a night off, she leaves with a veiled (ambiguous) threat of some punishment to come. When she closes the door behind her all of their stuffed animals come horrifyingly to life. Hugh, scary, bloody, and contorted, they capture the kids and make them stand trial where they are sentenced to the highest possible punishment for the inexcusable crime of “loosing their temper!” Then Mary comes in. We never learn what the punishment is, and the kids were just as bratty afterwards as they were before.
- Mary Poppins wanted to have a conversation. So, obviously, they magically transport themselves to the oldest person in the world. She is Jamaican woman who looks 35 year old. Unfortunately, she is out of conversation and only has letters left. So with the remaining letters they all sing a modified version of supercalifrag, etc, etc. Then we find out that the children’s father used to come all the time and buy letters, and always kept the gingerbread star that came with them. (What?) Later, the father finds some of the stars while getting down a vase in order to sell it. (By the way, the father was fired from the bank and suddenly has no money at all.) Bert comes in, sings a “don’t be down, chum” song, and steals one of the stars. (What? Yes.)
- An evil nanny was hired after Mary Poppins left when the wind changed. When she finds out, she comes back and gets into a wizard battle where, through telekinetics, Mary forces the evil nanny to drink her own evil medicine and locks her in a giant birdcage. Then the cage sinks down into the stage. (What?)
Dispite how little sense it made, the set, special effect, and group dance numbers were all spectacular. Very high production quality. At one point Bert actually walks up the stage left proscenium, across the top of it upside-down, and then down the other side. That was very cool. At the end, when Mary leaves, again, it is unclear why she likes her charges, or why she was there at all. The father’s ultimate reversal of fortune at the bank was entirely luck, and had nothing to do with Mary, or positive thinking. Nonetheless, when she lifted her umbrella and began floating out over the audience, it was very moving, and quite a special. The audience was on their feet cheering. I mostly had a confused look on my face. Someone suggested that perhaps people more familiar with the other stories in the Mary Poppins cannon might get more out of it. However, as a story, it really doesn’t make a lot of sense.
By this time my theater craving was satiated and it was time to head back to Belzie Crescent.
Saturday, November 11th
After a very full week and long days I decided to sleep in a little. After I packed, Matt, Christine, and the boys and I took a little walking tour around Hampstead Heath. It is the quintessential English town. Although it is considered urban, it definitely had a rural feel to it. There were tiny crumpled pubs, narrow walkways with milk bottles out waiting to be collected, cobbled streets and hidden yard alleys. From one vantage point we had a wonderful view of London off in the distance.
They dropped me off at the Belzie Park stop, we said out goodbyes, I and made my way to Paddington Station. From there I hopped the Heathrow Express and arrived back at the airport in good time. The flight home was just as crowded as the flight there, but was uneventful: I had arrived safely back in Boston.
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