Author: Fred Hoyt

Some of us took advantage of this cool rainy afternoon to view the battlefield that marked the end of an effort to create a “European union”—the battlefield where Napoleon (if you remember the 50s song) met his Waterloo.  I did not realize it was close to Brussels, but it’s less than 10 miles outside the city; being a fan of short megalomaniacs, I had to go see it.  When Napoleon escaped from Elba, and rallied his soldiers, he thought he might have a chance at splitting the coalition reunited against him if he struck a quick blow.  At Waterloo, he tried to keep the Prussian and Anglo-Dutch armies from uniting against him.  Slowed by rain (imagine that!), in June 1815, his armies struck too late to prevent the Prussians from joining with Wellington, and, according to the movie, allowed Wellington’s armies to gather where they could not be destroyed by French artillery.  In a 10 hour battle, around 170,000 troops decided the fate of Napoleonic France.

In a sense, the battle underscores what we’ve been learning in Brussels—the difficulty of unifying Europe short of war.  That’s the message we’re taking from our visits to members of the European Union civil service staff—the people most committed to making “Europe” work.  For example, yesterday’s speaker raised a point I had not considered—a simple but complex one involving the basis of legal codes.  While the British have evolved common law (it’s common to us, too), much of Europe uses the Code Napoleon.  As I noted to the speaker, Louisiana uses the Code Napoleon in the US, which should give Europeans hope that the legal systems can actually mesh. His comment: “the EU is ahead of its time.”

Today’s speaker gave a slightly different view of the origins of the European Union that helped me understand some of its functioning.  I think he described the evolution in terms of “shared sovereignty”—in which the members have given up authority over certain areas, and created an organizational structure to oversee laws in those areas.  In other words, if the treaties have conceded pollution controls to a “High Authority” (as the European Commission was once known), the legislation Parliament passes on that topic is enforceable in all countries—whether they voted for it or not. His comment was that it is an unprecedented “experiment.”  When he noted it has been going on for 60 years, my response was that after 60 years, the United States had not yet sorted out many of the issues that “We the People” wrote a constitution to settle; I hoped it doesn’t take a civil war to resolve Europe’s issues.

One other thing we’re taking from our EU visits is the focus of the European Union on social issues—and more general r&d support.  I remember from my last trip in Eastern Europe that much of the infrastructure support for roads, for example, in the Baltic countries, came from EU support. In addition, one of our speakers in Paris was a  Ph.D. (from Illinois) working on a project involving DNA, that was based on a 7 billion Euro grant. Think about an American working on pure research in Europe….

If you want a business epigram on why the EU needs to continue to exist—when I left London, I had not spent or exchanged all my British pounds.  I took a 20 pound note to the exchange, worth about 31$ and got back (after fees and commission) about 15 Euro, or about 21$. Imagine doing that every time you crossed a border!

As for Brussels itself, home to NATO as well as the EU, cold wet days are not uncommon—and they are ideal for spending time in museums, which we’ve also done.  My three favorites included two as impressive for the buildings as for the contents—the buildings were art nouveau, and the museums helped spare the wrecking ball.  One was a  comic strip museum—after all the adventurous Tintin came from the brush of a Belgian artist—who has been translated in dozens of languages around the world. The second museum of note was the Musical Instruments Museum, housed in a former Art Nouveau department store.  When I entered, I was given an audio guide; as I passed the exhibits, the instrument featured played.  If you’ve never heard a cabinet organ, you’ve missed a real treat, as I would have had I not gone to the museum. The third museum is on the grand place, a medieval square I mentioned yesterday, with Gothic and Baroque homes.  Professor Pana and I went to the “House of the King,” which was a wonderful Gothic building with period pieces, art, sculpture, and pictures of the city, some of them following Louis XIV bombardment that leveled 4000 houses.

Well, we leave Brussels for Berlin via Cologne with good memories of Brussels—the Manneken-Pis (look that one up; it’s the symbol of the city); the chocolate (world famous!), and lapin (rabbit) and moule (mussels) meals. That moule meal was facilitated by an IWU alum, George Kambouroglou, who works as a software supervisor at the EU.  We’ve been in touch with George as soon as we learned he was in Brussels, and the 93 graduate of IWU bent over backward to make sure we had as much information as he could find, and, even though he left with his family for the US this morning, joined us for dinner last night at Café Leon to reminisce about his days as an Acacia/physics major at IWU.

On to Berlin.

From what’s been called Europe’s last “artificial” country—Brussels

I don’t know why I’d not considered going to Brussels before this trip; it’s only an hour and twenty minutes by train from Paris.  It’s also considered the “center of Europe” (so the guide told us) because it’s close to the Netherlands, Berlin, etc.  That’s of course been one of its hazards historically, having been on the invasion route between France (which pummeled the city under Louis XIV) and Germany, which came through Belgium in 1914 and 1939.

Studying the European Union as we were, we had to come here, and in the next two days we will be visiting with officials of the EU.  Today, when we got here from Paris, we got an introduction to the rather lengthy history of the area, which has been “Belgium” since 1830. It’s a kingdom of 10 million people, 20% of whom work for one government or another.  There are three federations within Belgium—the French speakers in the south, the Dutch speakers in the north, and the city of Brussels, where signs are in both French and Dutch. In medieval times, the city was the center of trade—there were over 30 guilds, and for a time, the Low Countries were battled over by Spain and France especially. Charles V (king of Spain, the Holy Roman Empire, etc.) was born here, and Charles Quinz is the name of one of the 1000 beers that are locally brewed, many of ancient duration, and many in monasteries.  The most famous come from the Trappists.

Skipping ahead to the Napoleonic wars, Brussels was awarded at the Congress of Vienna to the Dutch, but in 1830, rebelled successfully, became “Belgium”, and “hired” King Leopold, whose family still rules as King of the Belgians.  The royal family’s palace is enormous, but not really visible from the road; it was the wealth of Leopold II, gained from his personal possession of the Congo, which he ruled personally and ruthlessly, bringing much of the wealth to beautify the city.  He was so ruthless that the Parliament took the colony away from him, though the Belgian Congo continued to exist until 1960 I believe.

The guilds give the city its outstanding central area, a town square with two of my favorite architectural styles: a palace and a town hall that are Gothic (the town hall has a steeple that could be mistaken for a church) and the other buildings, mostly built to house the guilds (the baker, the brewer, etc.), are from the baroque period, stylishly including the gold trimming characteristic of baroque, and resplendent tonight in the setting sun.

Until the 1960s, Belgium was one of the more industrial countries in Europe, possessed as it is of coal.  As such, it was part of the initial organizations—the Coal and Steel Community—that presaged the European Union. Ironically, one of the directives of that community was to phase out the coal industry in Belgium, forcing the country to diversify.

The result has been a country that has turned to government (as I mentioned above, 20% or so of its citizens will be working for one of the government offices here), and to some specialty products like chocolate (for a chocoholic, this place could be deadly), and at least here, tourism.

I think you can see why I wanted to start with being here, because yesterday I was happy as could be in Paris.  That was a million years ago—or at least yesterday.

The day started badly for me because I was convinced I wanted to participate in the bicycle tour de France, or at least as much as I could get early in the morning. There was a bike stand nearby, but for some reason, it would not take the credit cards I had as down payment—the rentals were cheap (about 2$ a day, plus time), but required a $ 150 bike deposit against a credit card.  Annoyed, I went for a walk that resulted in the discovery of a restaurant (more later about that).

Most of the day we spent with an alum, Miranda Crispin, who graduated IWU in 2000 with a degree in musical theater, and for several years afterwards she taught musical theater at colleges in Michigan, Indiana, and Wisconsin.  She realized that what she needed if she wanted to continue her career in teaching was more experience in theater, which led her back to Paris.  I say back here because she came to IWU because she wanted to study abroad, and our university was one of the few which allowed her to travel to France and still graduate on time.

She came back and started a travel company that has been successful, but

she has also started a musical theater group to bring off Broadway plays to the City of Lights.  She gave us an unusual look at the life of an expatriate in France, and a different view of the EU (the International Herald Tribune yesterday noted that  French opinion had swung from 60% in favor of the EU a year ago to 40% this year, partly because of the 11% unemployment in France). She also introduced us to a friend of hers, a young woman from Sydney, Australia, who is working for Radio France doing their English language broadcasts.  She regaled us with stories on how journalism is more opinionated in France than in the English-speaking countries.  One example was of the flight of millionaires from France because of a recently enacted tax increase.  I remember reading about a film actor who renounced his French citizenship in favor of Russian.  She said the headline in the news was roughly, “Good riddance.”  As I said, it was a very different view of life in the European Union!

Professor Pana and I went out to the restaurant I had discovered on my morning walk–in the Place de Vosges, a square that dates to the 1620s, with a covered arcade around it, and a statue of Louis XIII within it.  We went to the Palais Royal restaurant, which was next to the house of Victor Hugo (when he wasn’t living in Brussels), where we had a quintessentially French meal—coq au vin and leg of lamb.

We met the students later for the evening tour of the Seine, and then celebrated a birthday on the trip in French style.  I got to see “Midnight in Paris” and it wasn’t produced by Woody Allen.

One of the culinary treats in Brussels is moule (mussels), and as I told one of our students before we went out for dinner, “You can really get muscles here.”

There were a lot of tips today that we were in a world-class museum.  Here are some that spring to mind:

–          The line for admission goes half way around the block.  That’s for those who were smart enough to reserve via the internet.  The other line goes around the block and then some.  Fortunately, our guide gave us a few tips; get there early and go to the nearby tobacco store that sells tickets. That was almost an oops, too.  Ella and I got to the tobacco store in the Louvre Mall (you read that right) just as the mall opened (8:30) only to discover that we needed cash, and of course the first ATM machine was down.  Happily, there were several others nearby, and so we were able to get the tickets, so that when students joined us at 9:45 we were able to go right in.

–          On your way to the 24 pictures/sculptures on the list you compiled of “must sees,” you spot one or two that are not on the list and a light bulb goes off, “Oh, THIS is where THAT is.”

–          You are in to finding number 12 and three hours have already passed.  Part of it is that the map is largely useless because some corridor is closed for renovation, and like most maps, it’s most useful for people who don’t need a map.

–          You can tell where most of those 24 pictures are because the 8 million people visiting the Louvre today have chosen that time to get in front of you and dawdle while you’re trying to take the picture to prove that, yes, you did see the Mona Lisa (and realize it’s smaller than you thought, and not just because there are a hundred people between you and it)

–          One of the twenty four pictures you had to see is on loan.  If you want to see Delacroix’s Liberty, you’ll have to come back—or go the museum which currently houses it.

–          Your feet start hurting and you realize it’s only four hours, and there are still ten pictures and sculptures left.

–          In the case of the Louvre, you’re so dazzled by the art that you fail to realize that you’re in one of the largest palaces in Europe, one that might have shamed even Versailles had it not been pillaged during the Revolution.  As you sit down and pray for strength, you look up, and, by golly, there’s an enormous ceiling painting that some famous artist had painted just for the Bourbon family to see.

–          You can spend as much time as you want in the bookstore, but no book will capture what you saw; most will be expensive, and all will weigh too much to take home with you.

–          You are inevitably sidetracked by something you didn’t come to see—such as the wonderful  Greek and Egyptian exhibits you did not know the Louvre had—that all of a sudden you realize time is fleeting and you have 8 other museums, possibly today, or else you’ll have to come back to Paris (not all bad!).

I think you get the picture, which is what you should do at an art museum. The building is a treat, having been the home of one of the richest kings in Europe at a time when monarchs could spend the country’s wealth on themselves (wasn’t it Louis XIV who declared, “I am the state?” ) and like the Bourbons, whose former palace became an art museum, the Romanovs in St. Petersburg saw (those who survived that revolution) their Winter Palace turned into an art museum—the Hermitage.

Most of the traffic in the Louvre, not surprisingly, was in the European section, where it has a strong holding in pictures of and about the French Revolution (not the collection of the Bourbons!)—Ingres and David and Delacroix, for example, with the famous painting of Napoleon’s coronation ala Charlamagne, where I think he took the crown from the Pope and put it on his own head.

People scattered in the afternoon, but there was at least one more museum I had to see, and while it doesn’t qualify as a “world-class” museum using the criteria I ascribed above, and I’m glad it didn’t have the tour buses in front, the Guimet museum should be on the list of every Asianist who comes to Paris. The chief attraction for me is the “largest Cambodian art display outside of Cambodia.”  Since Cambodia was part of French Indochina, and the French were into archaeology, some of the artifacts “came from Cambodia” (imagine the passive voice—came on their own?) to this wonderful museum.  A naga (snake, the protector of the Buddha) with a giant churning the sea of milk greets you; it used to be in Angkor Wat.  The museum has an outstanding collection of other Southeast Asian countries’ artifacts, including India, Indonesia, the former French Indochina, Burma, Japan, and China.  Having been to many of the places from which the art came to the Guimet, I could picture the statues in Pribanam or Borobudur in Indonesia, the Yungang caves in China (I was there last year), and so forth.  The temporary exhibit was an outstanding collection of Bronze Age Chinese treasures—all the collection of one man.  It was really worth my time.

I have to confess this is also an exciting city for foodies and for culture, and Professor Pana and I have been doing our best to savor both.  Last night we wandered into a delightful arrondissement next to ours, Marais, with narrow streets, local cafes, and nary a tourist/tour bus.  We went to a concert in an Armenian Catholic church (Armenia was the first country to embrace Christianity) that seemed in need of the increased revenue brought in by a soprano and a pianist performing before a crowd equally divided between people who saw the concert was on a donation basis, and the duo’s friends from the conservatory.  We stopped in a local bistro for dinner.  Tonight we went with a few students to St. Chappelle, another Gothic Church near Notre Dame for another concert, one that is probably replicated in most European cities—with Pachelbel’s canon and Vivaldi’s Four Seasons.  It was set in a church that might have had more stained glass (1113) than any church I have ever seen.  Dinner was at a café—with Margret du Canard (look that up) as the main entrée.

There is only one Paris, and tomorrow has our business visits—and our last full day, unfortunately.

I am writing after a long and satisfying day in Paris, exploring and above all experiencing.  In the morning, we went to Notre Dame to visit one of the most magnificent Gothic churches in the world.  Constructed (literally) from the 12^th through the 19^th centuries, its flying buttresses and facades are so central to Gothic—and France—that distances in the country are literally measured from a spot in front of the Cathedral.  We were there for the 10 am mass, which was performed with a Gregorian choir.  The interior is relatively spare, but the stained glass windows and the height make it a picture story—say about the Hunchback of Notre Dame!

Professor Pana and I used the time between the mass and our next departure, for Versailles, to spend a little over an hour (about two hours too few) at the nearby Museum of the Middle Ages, better known perhaps by its former location as the home of the Abbots of Cluny. The most famous possessions of the Cluny—alas—the Lady and the Unicorn tapestries—were on loan to a museum in Tokyo, but the other relics, including some from Byzantium (the 4^th crusade detoured from the Holy Land to Byzantium and ransacked the city, stripped the empire of a number of possessions –and goodies, such as the horses of St Mark, now in Venice after having been “borrowed” by Napoleon for the Arc de Triomphe) that really are works of art.  In addition, the Cluny sits on what was a Roman bath in the first century BC, a testimony to the lengthy history of settlement on the banks of the Seine.

We spent the afternoon at the Chateau of Versailles, begun as a modest hunting lodge for Louis XIII, but expanded by his son, the Sun King Louis XIV, to become the premier castle, and I believe the largest, certainly in Europe, and one that puts Windsor Castle into the minor leagues. The world class attraction seemed to have attracted the world this Sunday, as the rooms were as crowded as could be.  46,000 workers labored to bring the finest the French monarchy could obtain to the Chateau.  It came close to bankrupting France, a process that culminated, when the spending to fight Britain and incidentally help the US gain independence, precipitated the French Revolution.  In the meantime, the Bourbon kings (XIV, XV, XVI—sounds like super bowls, don’t they) enjoyed the facilities.  They say Louis XIV built it, XV enjoyed it, and XVI paid for it. We had a lively discussion involving those who have traveled elsewhere in Europe, and the closest rivals we could come up with were St. Petersburg—and the Vatican St. Peters.

The best features inside might well have been the Hall of Mirrors, where in 1919, the Allies imposed the Treaty of Versailles on the Germans. Other treaties ending the war against other central powers also occurred on the property—Hungary was divided (“The Worst Treaty in History,” intoned our guide in Budapest three years ago!) at Trianon, for example.  The lavish decorations at similar palaces always make me wonder why it took over 3 centuries for the Revolutions to occur!

The best features, however, might well have been the outside gardens, which did not have the crowds, but did have landscape and solitude. The outside has been restored since I was last here, and one of the features, the Bath of Apollo, looked for all the world like something on the Canadian shield I had portaged until I saw the statuary; that wasn’t me schlepping a canoe, though come to think of it…..

I was thinking, “I’ve seen it all” when a newly-resurrected waterfall appeared as we turned a corner.  We were lucky because for two and a half hours a day, water flows and falls in the gardens and period classical music gets piped over the loudspeaker.

While Peter the Great would love to have duplicated Versailles at the Peterhof, and the Hungarians, Indochinese, and French in China would love to have been the Paris of the East, or a second Paris, when you come here, you’ll understand why I think there’s only ONE Paris!

Everyone wanted to be the Paris of the….

Many of the cities I’ve visited have sought to be compared to Paris—Saigon was thought to be the Paris of the East by many (and it still has the greatest baguettes East of Suez); and Shanghai, particularly the French Concession, had similar marketing claims.  In Europe, several Eastern European cities—Budapest and Lvov come to mind–sought to mimic the leafy boulevards, the wide streets, the victory monuments, and the 6 story buildings with the mansard roofs (go to the Art Institute and see the Impressionist section and you’ll see why Paris caught the fancy of urban planners and urbanites in the 19^th century).

Being back for the first time in over a decade reminded me of the envy Paris elicited, and being here, I can understand why.  We came from London on the Eurostar, the fast track (literally) train that averages over 120 miles an hour and, we were told, hits up to 180.  We came from Saint Pancras station, whose exterior you might recognize from Harry Potter, to Gare du Nord, the train station that is the exit/entrance of railroads from the north, including the one we will be taking to Brussels later in the week.

We spent around 4 hours driving around the city rebuilt in the aftermath of the bitter Commune struggle (1871) by Baron Haussmann to surround the foundation laid especially by the great warrior King, Louis XIV,  the Sun King, whose 60 years or so marked in many ways the zenith of French power in and over Europe, and his martial successor a century later, Napoleon, whose Arc de Triomphe revealed his respect for ancient Rome and an enormous ego.  I hadn’t made the connection, but the city along the Seine, and especially the palaces, the Louvre, and the Luxembourg etc., strongly resemble the palaces Peter the Great constructed along the Neva River in St. Petersburg. Peter in fact visited France in 1717, and the efforts to duplicate Versailles (especially in  the Peterhof palace) are much greater than I remembered.  (see later)

Greece lost its marbles—and we found them (read further to find the explanation of this mystery)

London, May 10, 2013

Day 3 in London was a nice mix of activities, with the extra of having most of the afternoon and evening free to explore.  What I’m going to share was my day, part of which involved our students.

In the morning we took the underground (the subway is an underpass here) to visit Citi’s operations in London, a visit facilitated by former student (and veteran May term tripper—he went to Asia with me a few years ago) Chris Wheatley, who is completing an internship in “private banking.”  Chris invited two of his coworkers (boss?), who described the nature of private banking to us.  As they explained, they provide customer services to a limited clientele—the really wealthy in Europe, the Middle East, and Africa (from this area), with a heavy emphasis on benefitting “cash rich” customers.

The bank has 25 bankers who handle about 15 or so clients, providing advice and management services such as through a jet aircraft division (so the owner doesn’t have to worry about what to buy, how to maintain, etc.), or brokering deals such as the purchase of a sports team and the building of a stadium (the 30 something banker told us he doesn’t know why, but  when you get a certain level of financial security, you want to buy a team–witness the Russian owner of the Nets).  The key is not only to provide a portfolio of services, but to build a personal relationship (he hosted a $1 million golf tournament), taking what is in many ways a commodity business and moving farther downstream into customer service. They pointed out that England is an important base because of the stability of the country, economically and politically, as well as the desirability of the wealthy to have a home in London.

One of the interesting challenges they described was the political vulnerability of (and the press attacks on) banks in Europe.  The Europeans have limited the size of bonuses that can be awarded to bankers, a policy that has been followed in the United States.  From what we saw, though, Citi is at least as much a local, global bank as the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank which has claimed that slogan as its own.

Similar to what we heard yesterday at Cisco, and in the evening from Professor Pana and my two students who are working in finance in London, banking is a  competitive business in England.  As a result of the financial crisis of the past few years, there are about 250,000 finance people in England, down from 350,000 at the onset of the crisis. In describing how to get through the barrier, they emphasized the study of foreign languages—everyone in Europe seems to know several, and some of the Universities in England pay for their students to study abroad for a year—and to “network like crazy; make every connection count.”

Now for the lost marbles.  After lunch, we went to the close by British Museum, and like many museums in England (but not much else), with free admission.  Westminster Abbey was about 18 L by contrast.  The reason was to make sure the students got to see the so-called “Elgin Marbles,” the friezes that Lord Elgin, as British ambassador to Turkey (another connection for the trip), brought back with the consent of the Turkish governor of Greece to England, and they eventually wound up in a room in the British Museum.  The storyline is roughly that the Ambassador’s actions saved the frieze from pollution and neglect, and possible destruction, which I’ll bet is not the same story we’ll get in Athens, which has requested the purloined pieces be sent back to Athens to be reunited in the Acropolis Museum.  We’ll get to see the remaining 30% that are in Athens later.

Students scattered after that, while Ella and I sampled some of the other areas of the museum.  There’s a fabulous Egyptian collection (remember Great Britain was the “protector” of Egypt as part of the digging of the Suez Canal; and the creator of the Cairo museum that has the King Tut relics), a substantial Greek collection (again, it was Hellenophiles such as Lord Byron, that helped in the war of independence that freed Greece from Turkey in the 1820s), with a selection from Cyprus that would have pleased Professor Pana’s Cypriot husband; a nice collection of Indian Buddhist/Jain artifacts, though smaller than I would have expected (and not much from the East India Company that triggered the British raj), and the usual assortment of Chinese and south east Asian materials, including items from many of the ruins I’ve seen—the Mogao caves, the Lungmen grottos, Borobudur and Prambanan in Indonesia, and some nice shamanist Buddhas from Tibet.

Professor Pana and I—and one of our students—did get that Indian meal, but our professorial goal afterwards was to sample one of the evening cultural activities in London.  The Royal Opera (Don Carlo by Verdi was sold out); I’ve seen the English National Opera production of La Boheme, and Helen Mirren’s The Audience has nary a seat left for the entire run.  Thinking what could be more British than the Beatles (and remember I love classical music—1690s or 1960s), we decided on “Let it Be,” a 2 hour look at the Red/Blue and #1 albums of the Beatles, interspersed with film clips and commercials from the six or seven years of Beatlemania.

Professor Pana’s observation was spot-on: “It was like a facelift.”  Those musical geniuses did have the audience rocking, from  “I want to hold your hand” to the later ones from Rubber Soul, moving even those in the audience too young to  KNOW to their feet.

I was thinking back to that day in the spring of 1964 when I was visiting my then fiancée at a fraternity party when one of my brothers said, “You’ve got to hear this group.”  The song was, “I want to hold your hand,” and fifty years later, Carolyn, I still want to hold your hand.  Happy Mum’s Day, Mrs. Hoyt.   And the other mums reading this blog.

Today was the kind of day—albeit cool and blustery—that makes leading a travel course a great learning and teaching opportunity.  We visited two global corporations, one business, one political.

The business visit was first, set up by one of our student’s mom, who worked for Cisco, at the Cisco office near Heathrow airport in London. Cisco does $2b worth of services in the UK, its second largest market after the United States.  Once known for its routers, Cisco has moved downstream,

and like other hardware companies, seeks to provide solutions through technology to companies and governments.  Some of its projects—many with other vendors—are truly astonishing.  One prototype they showed us was a virtual kiosk where you took a picture of yourself, picked out clothing of various colors, and tried it “on”.  The next step was to put in a size chart which would “fit” you.  When I mentioned I thought it would be helpful to see what a room looked like with the paint you chose before you painted it, they showed us a machine that could take a picture of your room, change the fixtures, the furniture, the flooring, color the walls, and have your parts list printed out and the parts available at whichever home improvement store wanted the system.  When I asked about academic applications, one of the technical salesmen showed us some global collaboration possibilities that could tap experts anywhere around the world.  The sales marketing executive who set up the program for us pointed out that he seldom works with his UK team, but meets virtually with his “global team” around the world. As if to prove it, we had an interactive lecture with the Director of Innovation and Strategy (nice title), who was in downtown London, who explained the differences between the EU and the US, and within the EU.  He told us that many of Cisco’s customers were governments, looking to become more efficient (i.e., saving money).  The final speaker was in Dubai, a “refugee” from the academy to Cisco, where he is the director of the Europe/Middle East/Russia region.  He spoke about being an expat—he said he left England after Oxford, and with few exceptions has spent most of his life in the Middle East.

We left Cisco impressed with the new toys/technology (at least I did, but I have the kind of cell phone parents give children as punishment for losing their Samsung or iPhones), and took the bus to the “political” headquarters of a global corporation—the British Empire—when we visited the castle at Windsor.  One of three royal estates, Windsor is the oldest, having been started by William the Conqueror after 1066.  Originally of wood, it was part of the system to control and defend the important city of London.  Queen Elizabeth also owns properties in London (Buckingham Palace) and an official castle in Glasgow, as well as lots of property elsewhere in the country.  Because it is still occupied by the Royal family, parts of it are off limits, but the State Apartments (used mostly to entertain state guests, as requested by the prime minister) were open, as was the Chapel of St. George, the Queen’s private chapel, and the resting place of recent monarchs (except for Victoria and Albert). The furnishings and paintings were appropriate for one of the world’s richest royals—lots of Rubens and van Dycks, for example, but my favorite room was the one that contained gifts.  Sitting there on a shelf were two items from Tipu Sultan, the Indian sultan whose war against the British I catalogued last year when we were in Mysore and Bangalore.  We saw in India the Indian side of the efforts Tipu made to oust the British, even using French troops (as part of the European Wars that allowed the US to also enlist French aid for our independence).  The story there was quite different, and I remember clearly a toy Tipu had made which had a tiger eating a British soldier.  When Tipu was betrayed and killed by one of his officials, the British sent his crown and the gold tiger head of his throne to King George, and it is now displayed in the collections at Windsor castle.  I doubt any of my students would have noticed, but for me, it sold part of a mystery I did not know was mysterious!  Well worth the visit, but I daresay that the visit to Versailles, the Gold Standard of European royalty, will put Windsor to shame.  Incidentally, Windsor is the last name of the current royal family—or has been since the German name given by Victoria in honor of the state Albert ruled in Germany gave way to the anti-German fervor in World War I.

We capped the evening with a visit to Porter’s English Restaurant, at the suggestion of two former students responding to my request for an “authentic” English meal.  They’re both International Business graduates of IWU who came on May Term classes with me, and also studied abroad.  They wanted to work overseas enough to take one year jobs or internships that got them back here, and shared some of their stories while we dined (probably not the word to use) on shepherd’s pie and variants thereof.  Tomorrow, I suggested to Professor Pana, we eat real British food—at an Indian Restaurant.

The saying is, “’we’re across the pond.”  Compared to the Pacific, the Atlantic is a “pond,” which means our trip of 4000 miles from Chicago to London is considerably shorter than any trip from Chicago to my  usual stomping grounds in the Far East.

Despite the 8 hour flight, rather than the 14-16 hour flight (thankfully, we flew direct), it still does wonders for your body clock, and can mean a long day.  It was for us.  We arrived in London at around 6 am.  Of course, that means you arrive and there’s no hotel rooms available at least until noon.  Great time to tour!

The challenge that faced us was that today is the opening of parliament in England.  That’s a big deal because the Queen opens Parliament with a speech written by the prime minister, but she travels from Buckingham Palace to Parliament by coach, with an entourage, which means that the city is under fairly tight security; and, since the route she took pretty much covered the central  London area which has most of the tourist places we were supposed to visit, we were lucky we had a creative bus driver who got us around the city.

That was quite an accomplishment, because London is an enormous city, over 600 square miles, with a population over 20 million, most of whom were trying to get to work despite the potential distraction of seeing the queen in royal garb with the crown jewels (the only time each year the crown leaves the Tower of London).

London is an old city, dating at least back to Roman times, and if I were looking for unifiers for the six countries we are visiting, one might be the first “European Union,” the Roman Empire.  Turns out, Emperor Hadrian, who defined the northern limits of the Empire when he built a wall in northern England, had a fond spot in his heart for Athens, where he built or rebuilt a number of monuments we’ll see later.  Another Roman symbol for this trip (doesn’t work too well in Berlin, and I think Brussels, which were north of the Danube, another of the limnes–limits, as the Romans called it– that separated civilized and barbarian Europe –although, as professor Pana, my colleague, would surely remind me, Romania was the only province in the Roman empire that defied the Danube/Rhine boundaries) (sorry for the long tortured sentence; I plead having been up for almost 40 hours) would be Constantine the Great.  Constantine was commanding units in England and France when the emperor died and he made a bid to replace the Emperor and reunite what had been divided by Diocletian.  Constantine succeeded, partly in a victory he attributed to Christianity, which led to his conversion and the adoption of Christianity as the official religion of the Greco-Roman world, and in 324, I believe, he founded Constantinople, which is where we will end up in 3 weeks.

As for London, the Romans had a settlement here, called Londonium (which sounds to me like it belonged on the chart of the elements, rather than on a map), that soon became a big city. Today it has over 30 neighborhoods—e.g., Soho presided over by mayors, and two cities—London (the old city, which was the financial center of the British Empire and still is one of the top 3 banking centers, or should I say centres), as well as Westminster, who have Lord Mayors, and there is an overall Lord Mayor, too.  The current one has started a bicycle rental program that I hope to take advantage of before we leave.

28 of IWU’s finest are in the St. Giles Hotel, located well in the theater district of London, and within walking distance of most of the major sites. The rooms are tiny—or rather, European.  I was looking for the sink, for example, only to realize it is IN the shower.   Pretty efficient, cozy.

We drove around the city where we could, passing landmarks such as the London eye, world’s largest ferris wheel; various neighborhoods,monuments to the wars Britain has waged—most notably to Lord Nelson and the Duke of Wellington, victors over Napoleon, one to the grand old duke of York, who, to my dismay, our guide said was a total idiot, marching his 10000 men up and down the hill (and here I thought it was a cute scout song) and sumptuous former palaces (St. James) and parks that constitute some of my memories of London (I think I was last here around 5 years ago).  The city’s major features were defined in a devastating

fire in 1666 which led Christopher Wren to rebuild a number of churches (I think I heard over 60, including St. Paul’s, where he is buried), and in World War II, when Hitler’s rockets destroyed much of that financial district, including a half remaining Wren church that is a monument to the 30000 Londoners who died during the blitz.

Our guide, Peter, is the consummate Englishman, with a Harris Tweed jacket, a handlebar moustache, all the right words (“whilst” seems right on him), and a jolly good sense of Anglo-French rivalry.

We had hoped to get to the Mall in time to catch the Queen in coach procession, but got there in time to watch the street sweepers remove all trace of the horse brigades, alas.  We contented ourselves with a look at the government buildings from which men like Churchill and Disraeli presided over an empire on which the sun never set, including a look at 10 Downing street.

Our big treat was Westminster abbey, which has housed the coronation of every British king since about 1000 AD, the graves of most kings until today,  and either the graves or monuments to everybody in English history that you’ve ever heard of—musicians like Elgar, and militarists like James Wolfe, and scientists like Newton.

We did not have a formal evening meal, but I suspect most of the students sampled life in the pubs of London.  Professor Pana and I met two former students that she was close to who are working in banks in London. Good to see them, to reminisce, and  to realize what they are doing to build upon what they had learned at IWU.

In any case, I’m about 6 hours ahead of you, and ready to call it a long day.