Middle Temple (Open House London)

Barrister Elf.

That has quite a nice ring to it, doesn't it?

I'm also really good at arguing in defence (of myself), especially against the charming Elfina, my wife.

Surely I'm qualified.

Anyway, if you're wondering why I'm talking about law, when I wander the streets like an outlaw (ha ha! geddit? no? fine), it's because I've gone to look round Middle Temple, one of four Inns of Court which have the exclusive right to call people to the English bar as barristers.

That's barristers.

Not baristas.

So once again, like Temple Church, Middle Temple has a good series of informative displays. There were also lots of shiny leaflets too, which is what Elf likes, so you can read at your own pace and not have to keep up with a tall human guides on your 2-inch long knitted legs.

Here's Charles I on a horse. This painting takes pride of place in the hall, and I have heard that this Charles I was quite short. Just like Elf. Okay, maybe not that short, but he's got my vote anyway.

Now, if you go there yourself, which I highly recommend, make sure to check out the ceilings. This one reminds you of what country you're in, which is highly useful.

This one is patterned like that luxury toilet paper you can get for about £3 a roll.

Oh no.

Now these lawyers are going to sue Elf for defamation.

But Elf has practised his powers of oratory against the lovely Elfina.

BRING IT ON.

And here's Elf hiding. From a wig. And a human hand. Going for the wig. This is all becoming a bit strange.

What this actually is is a chance to try on robes and wigs, but I quite like my woolly cloak. It looks a lot warmer than those robes, don't you think?

Whist Elf was there, the fire alarm went off. In an attempt to get the very best photos for this blog, I kept snapping as we (very, very) slowly evacuated. Hence the camera shake.

I risk my life for this blog.

Anyways - if there really were a fire, we'd all be dead. No arguing about that. Actually, as the staff were telling people 'We're evacuating', visitors were walking, straight past the staff, in an attempt to see more of the architecture, completely ignorant of the potential mortal peril.

And it was a wooden building too.

A wooden building.

*shakes head*

Elf Dryadalis

Royal Courts of Justice (Open House London)

So - I've been accepted at Hogwarts.

Just joking (sadly).

I'm actually standing outside the Royal Courts of Justice, open this weekend as part of Open House London. I was here a while back, actually, trying to get justice for the last time uncle Elfard farted right outside my home, and I couldn't leave the house for weeks until I'd ordered in air freshener.

Anyway.

Because the Royal Courts of Justice are, to say the least, rather high-profile, they take their security seriously.

In my guidebook, it says that 'any knives brought in will be confiscated'.

I mean, I wasn't planning to bring in a knife, but hey, thanks for the idea.

When you enter, you're met by airport-style bag and body scans. You have to put your bag through an x-ray machine (so now everyone knows that I have lembas for lunch, and a comb for my beautiful hair in my bag), and also walk through an x-ray machine yourself, to check for knives or Bad Things.

They only found wool inside me, so I was fine.

There's a 'no photography' rule inside, which is a kind of pity, because the architecture is stunning. If you want to have a look around, you need to get there by 3:30pm today (19/09/15, in case anyone reads this in a year's time, turns up and then tries to kick me for providing false information).

Of course, everyone promptly ignored the 'no photography' rule, but I didn't, because what would I do if I were caught?

Go on the run.................into the nearest courtroom?

Oh, no siree.

Anyway - I did have a look around the courtrooms, ignoring the provided map and thus getting rather quite lost. I almost wet myself, then realised that there were conveniently provided and signed toilets nearby so I was okay.

There were lots of guides around as well, and an exhibit of court robes to look round. Get there if you can!

See you soon,

Elf Dryadalis

Roman Baths (Open House London)

I have something to confess.

I haven't taken a bath.

Ever.

Right. Now, if you're okay with my lack of elfish hygiene (in my defence, I take ages to dry), please join me in my tour of The 'Roman' Bath along Strand Lane.

It's open as part of the Open House event which takes place this very weekend, when loads of buildings in London let you look around them for free. I decide to take this opportunity to learn about Romans, and possibly take a bath too.

Now this looks promising. Having descended a treacherously steep flight of stairs down Surrey Street, I enter a very damp, small building (even the leaflets were damp - no bath sponges though) with the plaque reading 'Frigidarium' and 'Roman Bath'.

However, I have been deceived.

Firstly, there is absolutely no way I am bathing in this. I want a jacuzzi, with softly glowing candles and gentle music playing. Probably some bubbles too.

And instead, I find out that this is actually a feeder cistern for a grotto-fountain at the old Somerset House.

People did bathe in this though - it's mentioned in David Copperfield. 

Yuk!

Again, yuk.

I am never going to take a bath. Ever.

Anyway, another thing I found out was that this isn't actually a Roman relic at all. From the helpful guides pinned up along the wall, I find out that Stuarts and Georgians used to bathe in this (yes, the water was cold - hence 'frigidarium' or 'cold room' or 'yuk, I'm never going to bathe, ever' - I may have made the last translation up), and it allowed people to let their imaginations of the Roman past run riot.

Things I do really like are the bathroom tiles. Isn't this cute?

Oh, and I don't have jaundice, by the way. It's just the lighting. Promise.

There's a light source here too, which is kinda roman. Kinda. As in, Romans used to make great use of lighting in their baths, letting shadows and light play off against each other whilst they soaked.

Then again, they also used to make lions and gladiators play off against each other too, so I'm not sure if any of their ideas are worth copying.

And certainly don't copy the unfortunate William Wendell, MP for Malton, who died in the bath in May 1792.

That really would ruin bathtime.

If you want to find out more, have a look at these websites:

http://www.kcl.ac.uk/cultural/culturalinstitute/showcase/current/kei/artsdigital/virtualbathing/index.aspx

https://kcl.academia.edu/MichaelTrapp (bottom of page) - Professor Trapp has obsessively researched the 'Roman Bath' and is also the guy who wrote the information signs pinned on the walls. He's also there this Saturday to answer your questions.

http://www.londonmylondon.co.uk/?p=2954

 I'm off next to the Royal Courts of Justice - see you soon!

Elf Dryadalis

Temple Church (Open House London)

'Temple Church?!', you cry in outrage, 'What religion is this? Is it a temple, or a church?'

Well, I shall enlighten you (no religious pun intended).

It's a Church, at Temple, built in the 12th century. Yup, that Temple Church, by the guys of the Knights Templar!

Now usually, Elf wouldn't go poking around these places (in actual fact, your faithful blogger didn't even realise the place was there). But Open House London lets you look around all these great examples of architecture, for free.

Now, a free day out in London? You'd be an orc to miss it.

So here I am inside, enjoying a talk about the history of Temple Church. The books behind me are Bibles (not Elf's autobiography - but one day, one day my people), and yes, for the doubters amongst you, the pews are real wood.

Open House London is actually over for this year, so don't hate on me if you turn up at these buildings and ask why you are being rebuffed at the entrances. Of course, this means that when the buildings are open, they are more or less packed. My advice? Go early, and prioritise the ones you really want to visit. Some are normally open to the public, so leave those till last.

Isn't this stunning? The church can be hired as a wedding venue, but only for members of the Inner and Middle Temples (so become a barrister, fast). There are also music events, and a helpful guy at the exit handed out flyers for this as we left.

The Open House weekend was well-organised, in that it allowed visitors to either wander around freely, taking photographs, or even go on a tour. Elf was looking for the event which taught people how to spell 'Triforium', but alas, it seemed this wasn't catered for.

The Ten Commandments are also on display. I would like to make a funny joke about how there's a cross right over them, but I won't.

There is also a good representation of my fellow magical creature, the Pegasus. Though I would like to add that Percy Pegasus doesn't usually look that good, especially not in the morning.

Finally, I leave you as I've got a lot of information posters to read through. I was hoping that this one on the 'Guardian of England' would be a sort of film noir version of 'Guardians of the Galaxy', but maybe not this time.

See you soon,

Elf Dryadalis

British Museum Part 1: Really Ancient Human Stuff

 If you were a dog, you'd be delighted.

'Why?' you ask, ears pricked up and tongue sticking out slightly.

Because, my four-legged friend, there are eight columns forming the main facade of the British Museum.

'So what does that mean?', you ask, tail now wagging in anticipation.

Well, you get so much choice as to which column to pee against!!!

Joy!!!

And with that, I welcome you to the British Museum.

PUT THAT DOWN. IT'S NOT A CHEW TOY.

These rather abstract, Henry Moore-esque figurines are not a new means to make playtimes more fun.

They're actually ancient - in fact, so ancient that the Powers That Be have seen fit to stick them behind a glass screen, just in case they see fit to walk out of the Museum, Freedom Passes in hand, and go on a 'Coffin Dodgers' Rampage'.

Talking of coffin dodgers, these figurines may well have lain in graves.

Or been decorations.

Or gifts.

Or offerings.

Or............well, the general explanation is that they are 'ritual objects', which is code for, 'I don't have a flaming clue'.

Elf's theory is that these are actually life-size models of elves, made when humans first discovered us.

Meanwhile, these rather imposing vases were made 3 million years ago, formed from star dust when the alien species Homo Sapiens crash-landed on the planet and took over.

Sort of.

Anyway, the point is, they're really old (this might be a theme in the British Museum..........) and have undergone restoration. You see the one to my left (your right, woof), which has an intricate pattern broken up by large plain areas?

The plain bits are because the original patterned sections have broken away and been lost. The excuse the restorers give is that a restorers shouldn't try to hide that an object has been restored, and besides, how the hell are they going to spend 13794 hours drawing in the patterns again?

Elf knows better. The plain areas actually had money-off coupons glued to them, which archaeologists cut out to save themselves money at the Cash 'n' C'Agora.

See what I did there? Don't all die of laughter at once, for my sake, please.

This dude has blatantly nicked my hairstyle.

I contacted lawyers, but they just laughed (and billed me for it).

So I took matters into my own hands.

Don't mess with Elf.

See you later,

Elf Dryadalis