LDN: Borough Market, Spamalot, Tate Modern

Taking advantage of M*'s classwork-free weekends now that he is just a working man—for the moment, I'm going to pretend that the final 12,000 word paper doesn't exist—we headed down for a full-day in London on Saturday. We considered splurging on a hotel (yeah! he's getting paid real money for his internship), but decided to spend the money on tickets to see Monty Python's "Spamalot." I'm not a fan of musicals, but M* is a serious fan of Monty Python. Luckily Francis, a classmate who shares M*'s encyclopedic knowledge of MP episodes, was able to meet up with us for the matinee. What did we think? Well, even though it was done in self-aware, mocking tones, the diva numbers were overkill and boring to both of us. Did I mention that I'm not a fan of musicals? We did enjoy the experience, and Act II was more of what we expected versus the first one.

M* humoring me with this shot
Bad shot of "Spamalot" audience members who arrived in costume

Before the matinee, we headed down to the Borough Market, which I've been wanting to visit since December. Fresh fish, a stall that only sells butter, multiple cheese, sausage, bakery and desert stalls, a plethora of freshly dried herbs, wines, coffee, and fresh parma ham and buffalo mozzarella from Italy—it was a feast for the eyes and appetite and wallet. Since we weren't heading back to Cambridge until late in the evening and, since we eschew the tube and walk whenever possible, we could only carry so much, we limited our purchases to a few, easily transportable items (sausage, salami, olive oil, and a brownie and gluten-free cookies for intermission). Luckily the rain didn't start until after we ate our lunch on the grounds of Southwark Cathedral, which adjoins the market and has housed a church on its grounds for over 1,000 years.

It pained me not to be able to bring home this delicate, melt-in-your-mouth mozzarella di bufalo.

The butter stall
M* eyeing-up the fish display
One of many sweets stalls
Sadly, none of these quiches were gluten-free, but ...
Notice the Wheat Free Option (hold the pita, serve with spork) from Damas Falafel, where we bought lunch
I was hoping this self-portrait would show the cathedral, but only a glimpse of the stone appears

After the matinee, we retraced our steps from the Palace Theatre in the West End back to the South Bank to visit the Tate Modern. M* had never been and I only had a vague memory from my first, illness-plagued trip to LDN. While we were interested in the ticketed Dali exhibit, we decided to do the museum on the cheap and stick to permanent collection. We weren't disappointed, and we would have been too tired to see all the exhibits in one day. We were both pleased with the Global Cities free exhibit, dealing with present and future issues in 10 urban centers, but there was quite a lot of text to contend with. We wouldn't mind getting back there for the Dali and the Hélio Oiticica exhibits. I had never heard of Hélio, a 20th century Brazilian artist, before, but I was captivated by the warm, rich colors showcased in the exhibition catalogue.