What I’ve known to always be true about London, since I first set foot in it, is that it doesn’t try to impress. It doesn’t need to–it holds your attention by merely existing. Time does not wither its beauty but indeed enriches it, and I found that firsthand in the Tower of London this time around!
After a hop, skip, and 24 hours of traveling in a metal box, we hit the ground running, well–dragging at first if I’m honest. It is hard to sit still in a city that has been bustling for thousands of years. What I always notice first upon landing in London is the balance between the past and the present, often shoulder to shoulder like friends, in the form of buildings. Glass skyscrapers that mirror the sun and rotted brick right beside each other–it creates a juxtaposition that proves how much these streets have seen. And now, they bear witness to you.
There is old history in the air here, and something that stirs up all that you have been and all that you want to be, mixing them together and offering it to you to chew and relish. The Tower of London has always left a bittersweet taste in my mouth, but I’d take it again and again. When I went there for the first time two years ago with my family, we had the pleasure of a tour guide (known as the Yeoman Warders, I’m told). Walking through the tower felt almost like a treasure hunt, as we’d stop and unpack a profound new piece of backstory about every fifteen steps! Mainly, how a place could hold so many identities at once: a royal palace, a fortress, a prison, an execution site, an armory, a treasury, and now one of London’s most famous landmarks. And it’s interesting how most of that information had been buried in my brain, until I stepped foot inside the grounds again and found it at the forefront! I assumed a position as a sort of mediocre guide to my friends here (definitely needed some fact checks! lol), but being able to share the history that once stirred my heart was a pleasure and a prize. As well as recognizing how much my love for history, specifically British history, has only grown since my last time here.
I found myself enthralled by the onlookers of the setting, the opulence of the jewels, and the weight of the amount of last days lived out here, especially with such pillars of history. What I love about the Tower of London is how it brings history out of pages and sets it right in front of you, to walk through, to interact with, to see–in a sense, through the eyes of some of the most influential people in history. Anne Boleyn is the story I continue coming back to (my version of a “Roman Empire”). To think that she entered this place as a queen and then returned as a prisoner is harrowing and a daunting reminder of the cracks in London’s previous monarchy. She arrived there in 1533 to stay overnight and prepare for her coronation. I imagine her anticipating this new era in her life, not a clue it would be her last. Only three years later, in 1536, she was brought back, where she stayed for seventeen days before being executed on presumably false and forged convictions. I stood there, right behind that glass sculpture where it happened, and looked onto the green grass and the houses in the back, taking in this sight that was Anne’s very last. History has a way of humbling you, and I felt quite small standing there, in comparison to her circumstances. But it is a feeling that should be carried all throughout any traveling excursion, to remind oneself that the roads you trot have been carved by many feet and different paths, all intersecting here. It makes one feel quite connected to humanity indeed!
Excited for what more is to come, and thankful my path led me here!
Theatre in London U of A 