London, Part 4

Harrods (no apostrophe) department store really belongs in Vegas, not London. The exterior is covered in thousands of lights. The opulence of the interior rivals that of the finest casinos. Seemingly everything is available in Harrods.

Want to get some perfume? No problem. How about a bicycle? Sure. A polo shirt by Ralph Lauren? Indeed. A car? Yes, as long as you’re satisfied with Fiat. Maybe some food? The endless deli has what you’re looking for. What if you want something right now? Dozens of restaurants fit the bill. Everything is of the highest quality and comes with impeccable service.

Pretty much anything and everything is available in that behemoth building (well, not cricket bats). For comparison, the Mall of America has 2.5 million square feet of sales space; Harrods has 1.0 million.

I indulged in the grandeur by ordering the best ice cream treat ever. Well, okay, maybe it was merely satisfactory, but for £12 (~$21), I’m going to remember it as fantastic, dammit. Fortunately, that one ice cream sundae filled me up for the evening, thereby allowing me to avoid other British cooking.

The next morning found me at the Science Museum in London, where I visited a working version of Babbage’s difference engine.

The difference engine was the first mechanical computer. It was designed to calculate answers to polynomial equations. Even though there is no direct link between Babbage’s work and modern digital computers, the design of the difference engine and its cousin, the analytical engine, was a seminal point in the history of computing machines.

After staring in wonder at the large machine and other “ancient” technology (ever seen a delay line memory module?), I hurried to King’s Cross Station to catch a train to Cambridge.

The Cambridge Cruiser, an express from London to Cambridge, was comfortable and quiet. The English countryside rolled by outside my window. Farms stretched to the horizon. It all seemed vaguely familiar, yet none of it would pass for the American Midwest. The train was fast, and I soon heard the conductor announce our arrival at Cambridge Station. Waiting on the platform was an old friend.