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"England" - Google News

Fertility rate hits record low in England, Scotland and Wales | Population - The Guardian
Birth rate falls to record low in England and Wales - Financial Times
Fertility rate in England and Wales plummets to record low – this is how we compare with the rest of the world - The Independent
England flags spark pride and concern amid anti-immigration protests - Reuters
Half of children in England live in homes at risk of overheating - BBC
The prevalence of England’s flag is a ghastly reminder of the National Front - The Independent
Josh Hazlewood - England will bring an 'unbelievable' batting line-up for the Ashes - ESPNcricinfo
R Ashwin to script history for India, set for ground-breaking England move after IPL retirement: Report | Cricket - Hindustan Times
Skeletons Reveal an Unexpected Lineage Buried in Medieval England - ScienceAlert

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United Kingdom

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<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/people/blaark/">xblaarkcorex</a> posted a photo:</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/blaark/54749746034/" title="St. Alban"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54749746034_84d81f012b_m.jpg" width="180" height="240" alt="St. Alban" /></a></p>

<p>Are we desperately tired and delirious with hunger? No. No, that’s a church tower sitting in the middle of a street, traffic flowing on either side. Guess that’s better than tearing it down just so cars can go faster.<br />
<br />
Turns out that this is what’s left of St. Alban, which was maybe the chapel of an Anglo-Saxon palace. It was definitely a church that was torn down and rebuilt during first third of the 17th century, and then burned down in The Great Fire in the second third of the 17th century. Christopher Wren designed its replacement, which was badly damaged during The Blitz. All that remains is the tower, and now the tower is someone’s home? I guess? I mean, okay, why not?</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/people/blaark/">xblaarkcorex</a> posted a photo:</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/blaark/54749527086/" title="On the Thames"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54749527086_f61fbeaf0e_m.jpg" width="240" height="180" alt="On the Thames" /></a></p>

<p>One evening we walked past people waiting on buses outside St. Bartholomew’s Hospital. My parents thought taking one of them as an unofficial tour would be a good way to see London. Fun even.<br />
<br />
I don’t think they’re wrong. But… It also seemed like a great way for us to get very lost somewhere and what if someone needs to use the bathroom and is it one of those get on the back door and off the front situations and how do you even pay to ride these things and is it zone pricing or a flat fee and how the hell do we get back? So I didn’t really give their suggestion much endorsement.</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/people/blaark/">xblaarkcorex</a> posted a photo:</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/blaark/54749745744/" title="From the Thames to Eternity"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54749745744_7b2147807f_m.jpg" width="180" height="240" alt="From the Thames to Eternity" /></a></p>

<p>Got off at Blackfriars and soon came across what looked like seating but were actually a couple large stones they yanked out of the riverbank for the, ah, “Thames Tideway Super Sewer”, which is, ahem, super exciting for me since <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/blaark/6963510853/">I once toured a pump station</a> while writing an article about a similar CSO reduction project in Portland.<br />
<br />
The accompanying informational placard did kind of make it sound like the responsible parties were a little uncertain as to what to do with these massive stones. They “could contribute to many projects” but at the time they were “used to provoke discussion about reuse” across from St. Paul’s.</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/people/blaark/">xblaarkcorex</a> posted a photo:</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/blaark/54748661302/" title="Tate Britain"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54748661302_4d6fa47404_m.jpg" width="180" height="240" alt="Tate Britain" /></a></p>

<p>Crossed Lambeth Bridge and walked down to Tate Britain so my mom could see the JMW Turner collection. I was not familiar with him or his legacy. I am still not really. But I did go look at some of the paintings before drifting off.<br />
<br />
The museum was built on former prison grounds, but I don’t think any of the original prison was incorporated into the new building.</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/people/blaark/">xblaarkcorex</a> posted a photo:</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/blaark/54749845015/" title="Apsley House"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54749845015_64e62188aa_m.jpg" width="180" height="240" alt="Apsley House" /></a></p>

<p>Of all the places where I really could have used a better grasp of English history, this was probably the place where I needed it most. The free audio guide was nice, but for the most part I really didn’t understand what they were talking about. Wellington. They were talking about Wellington, that much I knew.<br />
<br />
The collection was… there were a lot of paintings. Waterloo. I think there was an entire room dedicated to paintings of Wellington. There was an awful lot of decorative china, presented to Wellington. Some commemorative swords. A huge statue next to the stairs. Things related to military victories. Things related to political victories. All nice stuff to look at, but I just didn’t have the context enough to really appreciate what it all meant.<br />
<br />
The weird thing is that Wellingtons continue to live in part of the house, at least on occasion. They did not appear to be home while we were there.</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/people/blaark/">xblaarkcorex</a> posted a photo:</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/blaark/54749850450/" title="Tourist Trap"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54749850450_e9948d3b2d_m.jpg" width="180" height="240" alt="Tourist Trap" /></a></p>

<p>My parents had expressed absolutely no interest in seeing Parliament. When asked if they wanted to see Parliament they said no. I did not believe them. So I maybe intentionally oriented our departure from the parks so that we would just so happen to pass Parliament, and they could look if they wanted to. Unfortunately, even being across the street did not spare us the crush of tourists.<br />
<br />
Even so, they did stop. They looked. They took a couple pictures. My mom gave a begrudging ‘huh’. Then we carried on.</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/people/blaark/">xblaarkcorex</a> posted a photo:</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/blaark/54749844360/" title="Grosvenor Place"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54749844360_24c82fb256_m.jpg" width="180" height="240" alt="Grosvenor Place" /></a></p>

<p>It was the last day, a day for picking up loose ends and seeing the last must-see’s on anyone’s list. This first required a meandering walk through the streets of Knightsbridge and Belgravia.</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/people/blaark/">xblaarkcorex</a> posted a photo:</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/blaark/54749728629/" title="Buckingham Palace"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54749728629_ac44eacce5_m.jpg" width="240" height="180" alt="Buckingham Palace" /></a></p>

<p>My parents had expressed absolutely no interest in seeing Buckingham Palace. When asked if they wanted to see Buckingham Palace they said no. I did not believe them. So I maybe intentionally oriented our walk through parks so that we would just so happen to pass Buckingham Palace, and they could look if they wanted to, without being smashed up against the gates in a crush of tourists.<br />
<br />
And they did stop. They looked. They took a couple pictures. My mom gave a begrudging ‘huh’. Then we carried on.</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/people/blaark/">xblaarkcorex</a> posted a photo:</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/blaark/54749832485/" title="Sir Walter Raleigh"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54749832485_937b639f3b_m.jpg" width="240" height="180" alt="Sir Walter Raleigh" /></a></p>

<p>Somewhere some way somehow my mom got to talking with some employee or civilian tour guide who said that the line to see the crown jewels was shortest late in the day. So now we had the clock and the skies to watch. We risked the Bloody Tower.<br />
<br />
Another thing I remember from reading about castles is that high-class prisoners were always entitled to comfort if not liberty. Many a placard is paid to the years that poet-adventurer Walter Raleigh spent in the Tower of London over three imprisonments. His chambers were expanded and they built him a study. He kept a garden just outside his accommodations and walked freely along the battlements. His wife and son came to live with him for a time, and a second son was sired during incarceration.<br />
<br />
Okay, yes, things ended bloodily for him, but if you’re going too spend half your life locked up, this was kind of a best case scenario.</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/people/blaark/">xblaarkcorex</a> posted a photo:</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/blaark/54749702074/" title="Tower Green"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54749702074_c610658a3f_m.jpg" width="240" height="180" alt="Tower Green" /></a></p>

<p>The living quarters flank the Tower Green, which is the only real estate in the complex that looks remotely pleasant. Maybe not so much to the few people privileged enough to have been executed here, for being treasonous but also too popular to behead in public. Or for having married Henry VIII.<br />
<br />
Our Yeoman got a little choked up talking about Lady Jane Grey, a teen bride thrown on the throne and then dragged from it days later, a victim of other people’s ambitions.<br />
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Victoria herself had the former location of the butcher’s block turned into a patio. I’m not sure if that was because she felt remorse over the killings, or if she was just historically-minded. She sure as shit did not commission the memorial that stands today.</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/people/blaark/">xblaarkcorex</a> posted a photo:</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/blaark/54748607072/" title="The George"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54748607072_5a14112b65_m.jpg" width="240" height="180" alt="The George" /></a></p>

<p>There’s no other way we would have known to turn down that little side street and into the courtyard of <a href="https://www.greeneking.co.uk/pubs/greater-london/george-southwark" rel="noreferrer nofollow">The George</a>, the last so-called “galleried inn” from when stagecoaches took travelers from here to there and you had to do a lot of sitting and staring off into space in between. Built in 1676 to replace the ashes of a previous pub (a reputed haunt of Shakespeare’s), once a hangout of Dickens, now owned and preserved by the National Trust as a historical treasure.<br />
<br />
And what a treasure it is. Like many places we saw throughout London, the past is warmly received by the present. Yes, The George is an undeniable tourist destination. Yes, it’s hokey and rife with replica relics. But if you work down the street or round the corner, you’re just as likely to come in for a pint of lunch as us.</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/people/blaark/">xblaarkcorex</a> posted a photo:</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/blaark/54748605867/" title="Park Street"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54748605867_3903705ac6_m.jpg" width="240" height="180" alt="Park Street" /></a></p>

<p>The narrow streets surrounding Borough Market wind through layers of history all living on top of each other. In Victorian times poverty was viewed (mainly by those not living in poverty) as divine affliction for one’s weak moral fiber. Victorian workhouses were designed to basically beat moral fortitude into blighted souls through hard, unproductive, and ultimately pointless labor. Many blighted souls worked themselves to death without ever achieving a significantly moral character.<br />
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Not everyone agreed that killing the poor was the best way to save the poor. Local boy, St. Saviour parish warden, minister of parliament, and royal saddler Thomas Cure established almshouses along Park Street just outside the Borough Market in the 1580’s. The idea caught on, and a sort of almshouse village grew on parish lands, remaining for centuries until much of the original estate was moved elsewhere to accommodate a new railway line.<br />
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<a href="https://www.ustsc.org.uk/" rel="noreferrer nofollow">The charity</a> which evolved out of this continues today. The neighborhood around its foundations has certainly gone upmarket, but at least the commercial real estate they lease out pays for their ongoing social work.</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/people/blaark/">xblaarkcorex</a> posted a photo:</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/blaark/54749669763/" title="Marshalsea Prison"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54749669763_606fcc7705_m.jpg" width="240" height="180" alt="Marshalsea Prison" /></a></p>

<p>We had trudged through disease, deprivation, violence, and misery, and only kept from being pulled under by the buoyant spirits of your Thomas Cures and Olivia Hills, your Friends of Crossbones and Mint Street volunteers.<br />
<br />
All to end up here at the wall of Marshalsea Prison. Privately run and legally corrupt, filled with scoundrels to be sure, but more often than not debtors and their families. When his dad was incarcerated here him Charles Dickens was forced to leave school for the factory, which quite possibly set him on course to one day tell the stories of Southwark and London beyond.<br />
<br />
If you didn’t know you wouldn’t know, sitting in the grass on a summer’s day, shaded by towering old trees.</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/people/blaark/">xblaarkcorex</a> posted a photo:</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/blaark/54749460706/" title="Borough Market"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54749460706_9240126186_m.jpg" width="180" height="240" alt="Borough Market" /></a></p>

<p>After hundreds of years selling apples and rhubarb, having survived fire and infrastructure and inter-city politics, Borough Market was undone by the convenience of supermarkets and home delivery. Today it’s gourmet this and gourmand that and there’s probably a boogie-woogie blues band playing somewhere.<br />
<br />
Except on Mondays when it’s pretty much shut down.</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/people/blaark/">xblaarkcorex</a> posted a photo:</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/blaark/54749462236/" title="End of the Tour"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54749462236_15d0b2e3ac_m.jpg" width="180" height="240" alt="End of the Tour" /></a></p>

<p>And then off we were sent, into the shadow of St. George the Martyr and the startling bustle of Borough High Street. Cars and buses and shops and noise everywhere. My parents cornered our guide, praised her, discretely tipped her, and came back with a recommendation.</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/people/blaark/">xblaarkcorex</a> posted a photo:</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/blaark/54749460981/" title="Maid(en) Lane"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54749460981_f10ecf954b_m.jpg" width="240" height="180" alt="Maid(en) Lane" /></a></p>

<p>A problem with walking tours is that everything is interesting. The stories, the current surroundings, the surroundings the way they might have looked at the time of the stories, the delivery truck that’s honking to get past a dozen people standing in the middle of a one lane street. It’s hard to keep everything straight in the moment, nevermind afterwards. Just imagine how many things I’ve gotten wrong so far!<br />
<br />
Some dim recollection suggests that we stopped here was to discuss the sexual mores of the Victorians, and to dispel any ideas one may have about what Maiden Lane meant as a street name. Except, I think it was still Maid Lane at the time. However, previous to the Victorian era Maid Lane was on the outskirts of a special district under supervision of the Bishop of Westminster called The Liberty of the Clink. It was in this district, exempt from London law, where upstanding and virtuous City types would come to engage in activities they could not get away with engaging in back across the Thames. Taverns? Yes. Bear baiting? Yes. Brothels. Yes. Plays? Yes. Shakespeare. That guy, that Globe, was here too.</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/people/blaark/">xblaarkcorex</a> posted a photo:</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/blaark/54749460381/" title="Borough Market"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54749460381_ac568665d3_m.jpg" width="240" height="180" alt="Borough Market" /></a></p>

<p>Down London Bridge into that pestilent pit of Victorian squalor, Southwark. The best Wark. Trains running overhead, brickwork encrusted with soot, here among farmer stalls the well-heeled and the shoeless rubbed shoulders and swapped lice. Industrial London was bursting with rural poor chasing their dreams of becoming, God-willing, urban poor.</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/people/blaark/">xblaarkcorex</a> posted a photo:</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/blaark/54748592862/" title="Camden High Street"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54748592862_564c69e9c4_m.jpg" width="180" height="240" alt="Camden High Street" /></a></p>

<p>After taking in some roses at Queen Mary’s Gardens we headed into Camden to find a bookstore for my mom, and hopefully The Who’s plaque on the Music Walk of Fame for my dad.<br />
<br />
Hope was lost as soon as we turned onto Camden High Street. It was so crowded and miserable with weekenders buying bondage pants and getting their eyeballs pierced. We formed a column and marched silently through gawkers and lollygaggers, past tattoo shops and bars. But not past any bookstores.</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/people/blaark/">xblaarkcorex</a> posted a photo:</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/blaark/54749448176/" title="Arsenal"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54749448176_f4a577a52b_m.jpg" width="180" height="240" alt="Arsenal" /></a></p>

<p>The shop was small and packed enough with books without all four of us being inside. I picked through boxes out front for a while. Checking in on the family, come to find the owner used to live in San Francisco and they are all just chit-chatting away.</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/people/blaark/">xblaarkcorex</a> posted a photo:</p>

<p><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/blaark/54749425206/" title="Westminster Abbey"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54749425206_8130d38d34_m.jpg" width="180" height="240" alt="Westminster Abbey" /></a></p>

<p>One thing that really stuck out to me was that it’s not just royals and prime ministers and Charles Dickens entombed at Westminster Abbey. Some people just seemed to have had the money and the connections to secure their spot. Then there are the memorials that look exactly like graves, but are really more sponsored dedications to dearly departed so-and-so’s.<br />
<br />
My parents’ take on this was that, given the importance of lineage to aristocrats, getting the family name up on a wall or on a paving stone here lends the impression of legacy, one that descendants could point to as proof positive that they come from good and noble stock.<br />
<br />
And, you know, maybe the Abbey needs a new stained-glass window.</p>

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