Wow - it's hard to believe that I've written twenty-five installments! The travelogue is now thirty-seven pages, single-spaced. If only this would count as dissertation chapter;-) Anyhow, to continue with the story, Doris and I again split up in the morning and met again in the afternoon. However, this time, I was to meet her over at the University of London and go to her panel. It's always interesting go and hear a friends paper - even it's not your own area of interest. Although I could have gone to the library before I was to meet Doris, I decided to do something perhaps a bit more important - go grocery shopping (which I hadn't done since I returned to London). It's funny how refilling one's bare cabinets makes one feel as if something very important has been accomplished. Also, it was nice to be able to take my time about the whole thing and not be rushing off to the BL or back to the centre to quickly make dinner.

Doris and I met on the west side of Russell Square, and she guided us the building where the conference was being held. Doris had much to tell me about the panel she had attended this morning. This particular panel was the first part (with her own panel being the second) to focus on Ackroyd and Ian Sinclair. However, while her paper found Ackroyd doing interesting and useful things in his book, the first panel had pretty bashed him the whole time. One of the panelists had even made it sound like she was about to cry as she took Ackroyd to task for not offering solutions to London's poverty and homelessness problems. To make matters worse, one particularly annoying guy went so far to argue that the work of Julian Wolfreys (a UF professor and member of my dissertation committee) was politically unengaged and therefore really not very good. Needless to say, Doris was a little upset about the panel and not a little worried about her own paper was going to go since the people from the earlier panel were sure to be there. I did my best to be supportive, but couldn't help but admitting that the whole thing was unlikely to be a pleasant experience.

We walked into the room where Doris's panel was to be held, and she sat down at the table at the head of the room, while I took a seat in the audience. It was already quite warm outside and the room was already a bit stuffy. As I looked around at the other people in the room, I could easily pick out the rude-man and emotional-girl by their conversation and manner. The first paper was bit dull, at least to me, and that, combined with the room's warmness, made everyone in the room not a little bit sleepy. After the paper was done, I leaned over to the guy sitting next to me asked him to flick the switch to turn on the ceiling fan (I had thought about doing this as soon as I had sat down, but wasn't sure that I wanted to bother anyone). With the now moving air, everyone seemed to perk up a bit for Doris's paper and the last panelist's paper as well. Since I wasn't that interested in the subject at hand, I spent most of the time watching people in the audience and being quite shocked by the short dress of the moderator. It's not that I really care about short dresses; it's just that this woman kept giving everyone a great view of her undies every time she uncrossed and recrossed her legs. Let's just say it was more than I wanted to see.

The discussion after the papers was pretty much what I expected it to be. Several very pointed questions were leveled by rude-guy, who seemed to think that he was the smartest guy in the universe and the most politically engaged to boot. Emotional-girl got emotional and really did seem to almost start crying as she spoke. The whole thing was less about actual discussion and more about stating the questioners' opinions - the worst kind of conference discussion. I must admit, however, I have been largely spoiled in this area by attending a very welcoming and collegiate conference for several years. I think I know why I really like that conference and appreciate its overall atmosphere more than I did. I think that my dislike of this kind of questioning may be a cultural difference, as the Brits tend to be much more argumentative and such in academic settings. Still, I think it's a question of tact and the spirit of inquiry versus self-aggrandizement.

After the panel, Doris and I decided to forget about the whole thing a go off to the National Portrait Gallery for their special exhibition, "Off the Beaten Track: Women Travelers of Three Centuries." As it was the weekend, the exhibit was crowded, but still very enjoyable. The collection was small but fine, and included portraits of several nineteenth-century women travelers. The best part for me was seeing the portraits and photographs of and by the women that I had taught this past semester in my Victorian Lit class. It's funny how the actual appearance of someone is usually completely opposite what one imagines them to be. Doris really liked the photographs of the twentieth-century women travelers - so many of them looked very glamorous. We then did our duty to gift shop and bought the requisite postcards.

After the museum, we had a lovely dinner at a café near Trafalgar Square and had a great time watching the people go by. Not really wanting to go home yet, we walked over to Oxford Street to do a little window shopping (most of the stores were closing by this time). To celebrate such a fun visit, we decided to stop at this pub we passed along the way on Carnaby Street. It was nice to sit outside and drink our ciders. Just the right sort of ending to Doris's visit to London. Having finished our pints, we walked down to Piccadilly Circus to see the lights and catch the tube back to Russell Square. Piccadilly Circus on a Saturday night is filled with the young and the beautiful of London stepping out to their favorite clubs -- very good people watching. Once we had our fill of the bustle, we took the tube home and went very happily to sleep.