Ramsey Account Rolls Go Public
I waited yesterday until the worst of the rush hour was over -- this turned out to have been a very good thing to do -- and then took the train into London and a taxi across town to my current B&B. So, the strike cost me money, but things weren't that bad. No complaints here.
The B&B, however, is one of those spectacularly depressing ones you get to stay in if you're near a train station in London - there are blocks and blocks of them. My room is about 3 feet by 4, I think, There is a sink. There is a TV. Also, a light. Oh. And a bed. Ok, that's it. No, I forgot the ashtray, I could smoke, if I did, which I don't.
The shower, which is down the hall, is a room with a rubber mat. You think I'm exaggerating, but alas, no.
Breakfast is WAY down stairs, in the basement, in a very cheery room with lace curtains. The Breakfast room is the best part of the entire hotel. The breakfast, alas, is not.
I believe I'll have cornflakes tomorrow.
I'm only here for a few nights, however, and I'm amusing myself by pretending to be an artist in a garret in 1895, which is about when the hotel was built. This cheers me.
And since my daily work's at the British Library, I'm essentially very happy. I adore the British Library. From outside, I'm not impressed. But inside -- ah! all that light, and light marble, and brass, and the tower of the King's library rising up through the center, encased in glass.
Oh, what a place. And comfortable to work in. When the old Library shut down -- it was at the British Museum -- there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth. It was hallowed! It was sacred! Karl Marx worked there! And Virginia Woolf!
I was all upset too, but now I'm not. I don't know about Marx, but I'm very sure that Woolf would have liked this much better. The tea room is fantastic. Great salads.
My only beef about it is that I got there yesterday, ready to sit in line for hours in order to renew my Manuscript Room card -- the Reader's Ticket was still good; I just needed a renewal of my access to the Special Unreplaceable Things -- it turned out that I don't need it any more.
ANYBODY with a reader's ticket can just go in and sit for hours looking through the Ramsey Abbey account rolls of the 14th Century! WHAT are they thinking!
On the other hand, to get the reader's ticket in the first place, you have to convince them that you REALLY need this library, no kidding, and all the others in the country won't do.
Which I suppose is proof enough you should be allowed to read the Ramsey account rolls.
Next! Exciting news about Various Methods of Getting to Wisbech on Public Transportation and Why None of Them Will Work!
Stay tuned.
The B&B, however, is one of those spectacularly depressing ones you get to stay in if you're near a train station in London - there are blocks and blocks of them. My room is about 3 feet by 4, I think, There is a sink. There is a TV. Also, a light. Oh. And a bed. Ok, that's it. No, I forgot the ashtray, I could smoke, if I did, which I don't.
The shower, which is down the hall, is a room with a rubber mat. You think I'm exaggerating, but alas, no.
Breakfast is WAY down stairs, in the basement, in a very cheery room with lace curtains. The Breakfast room is the best part of the entire hotel. The breakfast, alas, is not.
I believe I'll have cornflakes tomorrow.
I'm only here for a few nights, however, and I'm amusing myself by pretending to be an artist in a garret in 1895, which is about when the hotel was built. This cheers me.
And since my daily work's at the British Library, I'm essentially very happy. I adore the British Library. From outside, I'm not impressed. But inside -- ah! all that light, and light marble, and brass, and the tower of the King's library rising up through the center, encased in glass.
Oh, what a place. And comfortable to work in. When the old Library shut down -- it was at the British Museum -- there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth. It was hallowed! It was sacred! Karl Marx worked there! And Virginia Woolf!
I was all upset too, but now I'm not. I don't know about Marx, but I'm very sure that Woolf would have liked this much better. The tea room is fantastic. Great salads.
My only beef about it is that I got there yesterday, ready to sit in line for hours in order to renew my Manuscript Room card -- the Reader's Ticket was still good; I just needed a renewal of my access to the Special Unreplaceable Things -- it turned out that I don't need it any more.
ANYBODY with a reader's ticket can just go in and sit for hours looking through the Ramsey Abbey account rolls of the 14th Century! WHAT are they thinking!
On the other hand, to get the reader's ticket in the first place, you have to convince them that you REALLY need this library, no kidding, and all the others in the country won't do.
Which I suppose is proof enough you should be allowed to read the Ramsey account rolls.
Next! Exciting news about Various Methods of Getting to Wisbech on Public Transportation and Why None of Them Will Work!
Stay tuned.
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