Greetings All:

"Pearl Harbor" opens here next week and the 2nd world War has been much on my mind. The problem is I've been thinking too much about the Pacific Theatre. It all started in Brighton when I picked up a copy of James Michener's "South Pacific" from a little used bookstore for beach reading. So now my dreams are full of Japanese Zeroes spitting machinegun fire, exotic islands hiding secret radio transmitters, and yes, Bloody Mary. Well, I'm in London and I should be focusing on the Normandy Landing and the Battle of Britian. So I decided to walk down to the Tower Bridge and check out the H.M.S. Belfast., the last remaining British Battle Cruiser from WWII. It was pretty cool climbing around the decks, and checking out the big guns and the steamy boiler rooms. I saw the typical seaman's bunks and unfortunately they didn't look much worse than some of the hostel beds I've seen in the last week.
The Belfast didn't really see much action besides supporting the D-Day landing (which probably explains why it's still around) but its current active duty is to stand in stunning contrast to the new life growing around it. As I left the Belfast (debarked?) I found myself right outside PriceWaterhouse Coopers, a steel tower sticking out of the river mud. Outside every consultant or auditor was relaxing at the waterfront pub, drinking a pint of bitter for happy hour. This was about 5:30 p.m.
I continued left along the riverbank, because I heard that a replica of the Golden Hinde was anchored somewhere along the river here . . . and I found it nestled between two tall multi-national corporate buildings. The ship was closed, but the old Thameside Inn was open and it was packed with bankers & consultants for happy hour. So i went in and drank a pint of bitter and snapped a few photos of Sir Francis Drake's ship wedged between two glass-and-steel buildings of our multinational future. I couldn't help but notice the similarities between the two structures, renaissance and modern, both built for plunder. The Golden Hind is very colorful, lots of red and yellow, but is very small and i couldn't imagine circumnavigating the globe in it without staging a mutiny and cutting downwind to Tahiti.
The corporate world of London seems very business formal, business suits for all, with nice leather briefcases and incredible riverside workplaces. I stood among them wearing my Oxford Backpackers T-shirt and my sunburned forehead and felt very very far away from Century City, Twin Towers and the world of Life Insurance.

So I spent last night in Oxford. I must say that Oxford was very beautiful and if any of you get the chance you should go. Most remarkable is the Thames rivermouch and the idyllic riverside meadows . . . grown especially for dreaming. There were plenty of students punting along the river . . and even younger tykes . . I snapped a photo of three cute little ones punting my way, but I was surprised to find them smoking cigarettes and drinking Smirnoff Ice-Coolers as they came closer into view. They must have been 10 or 12 years old. Again . . . England is a land of ancient history and hip club culture, sharing the same earth.

The college buildings are very old and look like they are ready to crumble. I felt like I was on the set of "shadowlands" and the presence of C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien seemed to haunt the old building and the surrounding foliage. I could imagine Jack imagining Narnia as he wandered along the footpaths . . . there are secret trails leading onwards into the woods and mists . . . and the thought of Turkish Delight drives you to explore a little further this away . . . just little farther now . . .
Oxford also summons the image of Hobbiton to me . . with it's quaint little streets and little homely hobbit holes. There are hobbits living in Oxford, I am sure of it. I just hope they are not all Sackville-Baggineses. Go watch "The Lord of the Rings" this christmas if you don't know what I'm talking about.
So I am back in London for a few more days, waiting for James to arrive, and then we are onto somewhere new. The Dawn Treader awaits. . .

Nick