Dr Livingstone I presume?
Today I came face to face with two of my heroes. These men were old school adventurers, explorers, men who endured between them extremes of hot & cold, one in Southern Africa, the other the Southern Pole.
In our modern age of celebrity, where men are enobled with greatness for kicking a football or acting in movies, these two heroes of mine would pass unnoticed. Indeed, to find their statues in our capital city involves a degree of exploration which no doubt they would consider appropriate.
Robert Falcon Scott is hidden away on a side street in Westminster. More prominent are fallen Viceroys & Colonial Major Generals. Their tributes grand, their achievements less so,their names forgotton. Scott is clothed in his Polar gear & half submerged in hedgerow. His fading plaque tells briefly how he died in 1912 returning from the South Pole with his 4 companions.
In his own words, 'Had we lived I should have had a tale to tell of the hardihood, endurance & courage of my companions which would have stirred the heart of every Englishman. These rough notes & our dead bodies must tell the tale.'
I found Dr Livingstone by surprise, not unlike Stanley when he stumbled across the explorer in Ujiji. Back then, Livingstone had been gone 7 years, searching for the source of the Nile. Speculation as to his welfare was rife until Stanley found him alive & well in a native village.
Today I discovered him perched in a niche on the wall of the Royal Geographical Society, choked by traffic at the corner of Exhibition Road & Kensginton Gore. Standing larger than life, Livingstone leans hard on a stick in his right hand, a bible clutched firmly in his left & a coat draped over his arm. Looking out over the busy streets & modern day Hyde Park he seems restless for another mission, urgent & poised to reach these bustling, unfamiliar natives.
Captain Scott, Dr Livingstone, the heart of this Englishman is remains stirred by your exploits.
In our modern age of celebrity, where men are enobled with greatness for kicking a football or acting in movies, these two heroes of mine would pass unnoticed. Indeed, to find their statues in our capital city involves a degree of exploration which no doubt they would consider appropriate.
Robert Falcon Scott is hidden away on a side street in Westminster. More prominent are fallen Viceroys & Colonial Major Generals. Their tributes grand, their achievements less so,their names forgotton. Scott is clothed in his Polar gear & half submerged in hedgerow. His fading plaque tells briefly how he died in 1912 returning from the South Pole with his 4 companions.
In his own words, 'Had we lived I should have had a tale to tell of the hardihood, endurance & courage of my companions which would have stirred the heart of every Englishman. These rough notes & our dead bodies must tell the tale.'
I found Dr Livingstone by surprise, not unlike Stanley when he stumbled across the explorer in Ujiji. Back then, Livingstone had been gone 7 years, searching for the source of the Nile. Speculation as to his welfare was rife until Stanley found him alive & well in a native village.
Today I discovered him perched in a niche on the wall of the Royal Geographical Society, choked by traffic at the corner of Exhibition Road & Kensginton Gore. Standing larger than life, Livingstone leans hard on a stick in his right hand, a bible clutched firmly in his left & a coat draped over his arm. Looking out over the busy streets & modern day Hyde Park he seems restless for another mission, urgent & poised to reach these bustling, unfamiliar natives.
Captain Scott, Dr Livingstone, the heart of this Englishman is remains stirred by your exploits.
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