Webers in London!

Switzerland

2011-10-22T23:41:00.000-07:00

Lausanne, Switzerland
October, 2011

Friday evening, 6 Oct., found us headed to Heathrow for a 7:30 p.m. flight to Geneva, Switzerland. An hour later (after the three+ hours it took to get us to and through the airport!) we landed, retrieved bags and found the train. Another hour and we were in Lausanne in a cab en route to the hotel Angleterre. A lovely property spread amongst a few buildings and very near Lake Geneva (this we discovered the next morning by daylight).

Saturday…We rated our first buffet breakfast in Switzerland a seven. Breads: fabulous. Cheese and pastries, also fabulous.

The lake view was lovely, of course, though a bit cloudy so we had to envision the Alps lurking behind the gray. From breakfast we headed down to the lake and to the left in search of the Olympic Museum.

The museum was a good visit – lots of inspirational clips and photos, cool memorabilia – shoes, medals, stamps, sculptures, quotes…all things Olympic. Particularly interesting for us as London readies for Olympics 2012. In fact I was able to go on an Olympic walk – a guided tour of the Olympic site – recently. Claire got to do the same with her class as one of her classmates’ parents works on site.

After being moved by Olympic heroism for a couple of hours (alternating with reading about political issues and corruption!) we decided to find our way downtown. From the port area we found the metro and hopped off at a stop near the cathedral. Then onto lunch, which wasn’t to be had at a bustling creperie. That one was too bustling. Had we had the patience to wait, we probably would have suffered immeasurably from the noise and chaos!

We opted instead for a cute but very small sandwich/cake shop around the corner. There we had decadent hot chocolate and split a couple of sandwiches. As we were around the corner from the Cathedral we popped in.

About the Cathedral:

“The most beautiful Gothic church in Switzerland, Lausanne Cathedral (Cathédrale Notre-Dame) stands 500 feet above Lake Geneva. Construction on the cathedral began in 1175 and it was consecrated in 1275 by Pope Gregory X. It remains unfinished today.
Throughout the Middle Ages, pilgrims flocked to the cathedral to pray before the Golden Virgin, a miraculous statue of the Virgin Mary (to whom the cathedral is dedicated).

Lausanne was one of many medieval cities to institute a nightwatch to prevent the all-too-common threat of devastating fires. Although it is mostly stone, the city was once made mostly of wood and burned down several times. Every night, watchmen stationed on the wall surrounding the town would call out to each other, ensuring that there were no fires and that no enemy was approaching.

The cathedral nightwatch was the most important. Every night, the watchman walks up the 153 stairs to the top of the tower. Every hour on the hour from 10pm to 2am, he calls out to the four directions: C'est le guet; il a sonné l'heure ("This is the nightwatch; the hour has struck"). Lausanne is the only city in Europe to continue this tradition to this day. Nowadays, the reassuring sound of the nightwatchman's voice startles lovers on park benches and drunken students stumbling home.

In 1536, the combined forces of the Reformation and Bernese army stripped Lausanne Cathedral of virtually all its decoration, including altars, statues and paintings. The beloved Golden Virgin was melted down to make coins. Its treasury, a unique collection of liturgical vestments and tapestries, was taken over to Bern, where it is now preserved in a museum.
The architect-restorer Eugène Viollet-le-Duc began a restoration of the cathedral in the 19th century - and it is still going on today.

We continued our perusal around Old Town, seeking out a bit of infamous Swiss chocolate at the most popular shop in town, a lovely little store that smelled amazing from the street. We joined the queue out the door. It was worth the hassle – amazingly rich chocolate. The aroma in the store was out of this world.

After poking around Old Town some more we took the metro back to our stop near the hotel and relaxed before dinner. In our quest for a lunch spot we’d stumbled upon our restaurant for the evening, Café de L'Eveche. This one was known, quite appropriately, for its fondue. Joe and I shared one, along with a fabulous blue cheese salad with walnuts, carpaccio, vegetables and amazing balsamic dressing. The kids opted for tagliatelle and Bolognese, which looked great, too. Dessert was heavenly – tiramisu and a coffee flavored ice cream coated in dark chocolate.
Full of cheese and chocolate, we headed back to the hotel.

Day two in Switzerland

Sometimes the realization of where you are when you wake up is astounding. That’s how it was this a.m. when I remembered I was in Switzlerland. And on such a beautiful day. Sunny, it had cleared some so we had a great view of the Alps from our window, a lakeside perch.

After breakfast we walked down to the shore and found tickets for a paddle boat ride on Lake Geneva, departing late morning. This was one of those things I’d researched online and was all set to purchase tickets for a family ice cream social cruise…only to have the cost come up in US dollars. I’d been about to buy tickets for a lake cruise on our lake Geneva!

After perusing Ouchy (our little lakeside town) for a disposable camera (I did such a good job packing…until realizing I’d forgotten the camera in only one of the most beautiful places in the world!!!), the kids stole a few minutes at a playground before we boarded our boat.

It was a lovely white BIG paddleboat. Incidentally, 25 percent of the world’s functioning steamers – 19 -- are in Switzerland.

On board we settled into a table with a great view as our boat chugged along past gorgeous vineyards lining the hillsides, Alps rising up behind. The fall colors of the vines were fabulous, especially under the crisp, bright blue sky and fall sunshine.

A few sailboats dotted the lake. Ninety minutes later we were in Chillon, our destination. There we disembarked and searched for lunch. We were pointed toward a very non-descript restaurant that didn’t hold much promise. Surprisingly, my mushroom soup was amazing, as was my salad with little goat cheese pastries. Joe’s shrimp salad looked very tasty, too.

The kids had spaghetti and schnitzel; we heard no complaints.

Then off to Chillon Castle, which is a very picturesque castle perched on the lake:

Whilst Castles built by the Savoys generally have a square plan with a circular tower at each corner, Chillon Castle is special in that it follows the oval form of the 100m X 50m island it is built on. It is surrounded by a natural moat, and is accessible from the lake on all sides. On the land side it can be entered by crossing the wooden bridge. Formerly there was a drawbridge, the remains of whose pulley system can still be seen.

Chillon is a double function castle. The façade opposite the mountain, pierced by arrow slits and loopholes and topped by machicolations on the battlements, is the fortress that protects the road, the Via Italica. Facing the lake, magnificent Gothic windows adorn the façade of the princely residence. The keep in the centre of the castle is linked to the dwelling via the sentry walks.

The three inner courtyards correspond to the use of the buildings surrounding them: the castellan’s or constable’s residence, and the lord of the castle’s apartments.
The place has a ton of rooms and good exhibits – we made the rounds before heading to the dock to board our chariot back to Ouchy. A lovely ride back, this time we perched near the paddles of the steamer – apparently these kinds of boats have been a tradition in Switzerland for 100+ years.

Back in Ouchy we regrouped at the hotel before heading off to dinner at Restaurant de la Croix d'Ouchy, a lovely place near our hotel. The food was out of this world, as was the service and setting. Comfortable, oldy-worldy dining room, delicious food – I had an amazing fish dish, Joe had what looked like an incredible steak, the desserts were rich and chocolate-y and to die for.

We sauntered hotel-ward, full and happy.

Day Three in Lausanne

This morning we set off to the train station, easily accessed via the metro. Once there a very helpful woman got us oriented to the chocolate factory!

We took a couple of trains to Broc, Switzerland, changing in Gruyeres en route. Our last train was a tiny two-car job, one car w/ red and white polka dots. The ride alone was amazing – Alpen views, vineyards, fall colors, cows and countryside. Brilliant white snowcapped peaks…

In the tiny little town of Broc, nestled in mountains, we followed the signs – and smells – to the Cailler chocolate factory. The air smelled like molten chocolate – warm and so appetizing.

At the factory we got tickets and into position for the English tour. Once the doors opened we stepped into a beautifully decorated Disney-esque “set”, an elevator that took us down a couple levels, I guess, entertaining us along the way with historical information about the development of chocolate.

After our 20 minute interactive guided tour – reminiscent of the “It’s a Small World” ride at Disney, we were deposited in the tasting room. That was beyond heavenly. We all tried entirely too many. And we hadn’t had lunch so whoa was it a sugar rush.

From there we stopped at the gift shop (of course), added to the factory income for the day, then walked back toward the train station, stopping at the chocolate factory outlet en route. This one was mostly grocery store (dog food, anyone) with some chocolate thrown in. In true outlet mall style, no great bargains, really…

Then back to the trains, the small one, then a bigger one and we were in Gruyeres. What an appropriate name.

This town was delightful. Our first stop, just out of the train station, was the cheese factory. We were handed samples of Gruyeres as we purchased our tickets. Three samples, the cheese at three different ages.

The audio guide tour was good, with a cow named Cherry as the narrator. After being educated about cows’ diet, rhythms of the season (i.e. grazing on the slopes in summer), etc. we were taken through the milking parlor. We saw huge rounds of cheese in the making, tanks being drained, etc. At the end we saw the cheese cave – a cool, dark place where dozens of rounds of cheese were being aged.

After our tour we popped over to the café and ate our samples with bread, then ordered some amazing gruyeres mac and cheese and a ham and cheese salad. Ahh what a great food day…heavenly chocolate followed by heavenly cheese.

We then shuffled into the lovely little Alpen town of Gruyeres, set on a hill with amazing mountain scapes all around, green meadows, cows with big bells. Here and there one would peal. Blue skies, snow-capped mountains, green pastures and lovely brown, big-eyed cows. So Swiss.

After putzing about town a bit, seeking out the ever-important souvenir for Claire and Ava, we wandered back to the train station to start the process back to the hotel. In short order we were back in Lausanne!

This evening we elected to eat at the hotel restaurant, which had been written up as a good one. And it was! Italian food that everyone enjoyed.

Final day in Switzerland

This a.m. we headed downtown Lausanne after our final hotel breakfast, this time for a museum visit – the Natural History and Geology museums. We perused stuffed stuff, rocks and more in a lovely setting. Then it was time for lunch and we were determined to try that creperie that was too chaotic earlier in our visit. This time we nailed a table and perused the menu. The crepes were very tasty; I did a blue cheese and mushroom one, can’t remember the others. Claire had ordered a bacon and maple syrup selection but was disappointed when it came out with just bacon. Not for long. As we were wrapping up, another crepe came out…the waiter had assumed she’d wanted that one for dessert! Ahh the language barriers.

From crepes we wandered back to our chocolate shop for a treat for the road, then to the lakeside for a little outdoor time – chess and playground – before cabbing it to the train station and starting the homeward process. Lovely trip!

Provence, Poland, Bath

2011-07-31T10:05:00.000-07:00

18 July – Provence

I’ve decided that in my next life I’ll come back fluent in French and live in Provence.

On this sunny Monday the kids and I headed off to the Eurostar after getting organized and running some errands. We cabbed it to the station, printed our tix, checked in and grabbed sandwiches for the ride.

To Lille we went for our shorter leg of the journey, lots of reading and writing along the way. In Lille we caught the second train, the TGV to Avignon. En route we passed fields full of sunflowers, vineyards, Charlois cattle and so much greenery.
And once in Avignon we walked over to the rental car place, admired the lovely evening weather (not cold, not hot, just breezy and warm!) secured a little brown Citroen, got directions to the hotel and were off! Twenty minutes later we checked into a lovely boutique hotel – stone with a large porch and a very warm French welcome.

Our original dinner reservation had been moved back due to our 8:30 arrival time. And because the train was late out of Lille it was further pushed back. But the restaurant graciously agreed to serve us if we hurried so we shot off to our room and ditched our stuff. Our room was outside so we were led through the restaurant, exited into the grounds, which were lovely and featured a very inviting pool. Plans were made for an early morning swim…

At the restaurant we made quick decisions, the kids opting to share lamb per our waiter’s suggestion and I ordered the fish. We enjoyed the lovely, quiet dining room, sharing it with a few patrons wrapping up at their tables.

My fish was fabulous, the kids made off well with the lamb and for dessert they asked for ice cream. We were all a bit surprised when magnum – in wrappers – appeared on plates. I had the caffe gourmand per the waiter’s suggestion – little bits of desserts with varying flavors, served with coffee. Very nice finish.

Then to bed in our lovely suite – a large room to the right of the entrance downstairs with king bed, couch, coffee table, etc.

The kids slept upstairs in twin beds joined in a nice little loft space. Truly a lovely property.

We slept well, woke up late to pouring rain – really pouring. Bracing ourselves to be wet, we hoofed it quickly to breakfast, lamenting no pool time. And we enjoyed a lovely buffet French style. The bread, as it should be in France, was fabulous, especially combined with brie, unsalted butter and fancy raspberry jam (what isn’t good w/ brie and butter, I should ask).

We then checked out, got oriented toward Cucoron and were off. The desk clerk at the hotel suggested we stop at a lavender museum midway. We found it easily – a lovely stone building flanked by a field full of lavender. Gorgeous. Also flanked by a crowd of Asian tourists with cameras.

We checked out the museum, which wasn’t big but was interesting, with old presses, photos, history about the area and production processes, uses of lavender through time, etc. I did the audio guide, the kids did a quiz as we perused, then of course we hit the shop, got a lavender-scented candle for Sarah and were off again.

Close to Cucoron was the village of Luberon, where we stopped for a walk around the quaint little town with its winding streets, pedestrian walkways, boutique shops and cafes. By then it had become quite a nice day. Hungry for lunch, we settled on a café with tables outside and the kids had brochettes (chicken kebabs...but doesn't brochette sound so much nicer than chicken on a stick) simply but beautifully done. I had the lunch menu of the day, a lovely cheese, quiche-like starter with pesto sauce and a more adult version of the kebab with a lovely sauce and lots of grilled vegetables. Delicious!

For dessert the waiter brought out ice cream for the kids; he seemed disappointed when I passed on dessert so I agreed to it (any excuse) and he brought out three big bites of decadent dessert (I like all these "mini" desserts). The chocolate fudge like number was so rich I didn’t make it to the other two but did manage a to-go bag.

We continued on about town a bit, I picked up a wide-brimmed hat to protect my face from the sun, which had become quite intense in a fabulous way. We retrieved our car and headed on to Sarah’s through winding roads, gorgeous views along the way – vineyards, tons of trees and greenery.

Not long after we were in Cucoron, easily making our way to Sarah’s along narrow dirt roads through vineyards and groves of olive, peach and almond trees. We received a warm welcome and the kids wasted no time putting on swim suits and sunscreen. The pool was fabulous and just perfect – the kids could touch everywhere. Lillie and the girls had a ball swimming while I took a walk near the village along some trails. The forest was quite close, with trailheads here and there. It smelled so fresh, particularly after the storm.

Back at Sarah’s we helped prepare dinner; she’d made a Provencale casserole specialty along with veal meatballs, tomato sauce and pasta. With that fabulous bread it was an amazing meal, accompanied of course by wine...from Sarah’s boxes of rose and white wine in the pool house fridge. We finished it with cheese for the adults, ice cream and M&M’s for the kids. We’d brought Lillie a bottle of M&Ms from M&M World at Leicester Square. (That was an adventure…M&M world – think really colorful, really loud – as in music – and four levels of M&M related paraphernalia. Mostly overpriced M&M’s and M&M branded stuff. A good one-time stop.)

Lovely evening to sit outside at Sarah’s long table, with beautiful views of the valley in front, the great outdoor kitchen behind.

Wednesday – Cucoron

This a.m. I got up relatively early and went for a walk, this time the opposite direction, to a lovely remote area, down lanes and up hillsides, near the old hermitage (what praytell is an old hermitage?).

Another lovely day, breezy and sunny. We had breakfast outside at Sarah’s long table, pain d’chocolate for the kids, amazing baguettes and homemade jams for the adults. I drank copious amounts of coffee without ever feeling a jolt. Go figure, I later learned it’s decaf.

After some time by the pool we walked into the village with Sarah, then up to the castle on the hill, enjoying lovely views over Cucoron.

Afterward we had coffee (the leaded kind) on the Square, next to a big fish pond. For lunch – again outside (how nice is this) we had some salads, prosciutto, amazing cheese and bread, olives to die for…and of course wine.

In the afternoon: pool time – we adults just laid around, read and napped, chatted with Ollie, Katie, Amber and her 18-month-old daughter, Sophie.

For dinner we drove into Luberon and ate in the courtyard of a lovely restaurant. Beautiful and colorful, we ate beneath a canopy of sorts decorated with small green lights. For a starter we shared antipasto platters; the melted goats cheese in pastry was particularly tasty. The sausage, salami, olives, raosted veg and capers were all fabulous, too.

For mains, I had a veal specialty, as did Julian – very nice dish. The kids had chicken nuggets and fries. Others had what looked like fabulous fish.

Stuffed, I passed on dessert but enjoyed another really good espresso. And then we rolled home, late, after a lovely long drawn out meal.

Thursday

This a.m., taking a queu from yesterday’s decaf, I walked into Cucoron and had an espresso, which perked me up a bit. For breakfast we drove down to the village, picked up pastries and bread at one of the bakeries and took it to a café in the square, where we had coffee and hot chocolate.

Then to the car and off to a nearby abbey for a walk around the place on another of these lovely Provence days, the nicest so far.

Silvacane Abbey

Silvacane Abbey is a former Cistercian monastery in the municipality of La Roque-d'Anthéron, Bouches-du-Rhône, in Provence, France. It was founded in or around 1144 as a daughter house of Morimond Abbey and was dissolved in 1443; it ceased to be an ecclesiastical property in the French Revolution. The church was acquired by the French state in 1846, the remaining buildings in 1949. It is one of the three Cistercian abbeys in Provence known as the "three sisters of Provence" ("les trois soeurs provençales"), the other two being Sénanque Abbeyand Le Thoronet Abbey; Silvacane was possibly the last-established.

Afterward we headed home for pool time, said good-bye to Amber and Sophie and enjoyed a lovely lunch. More salads, great bread, cheese, pasta. LOVE the cheese.

Our lazy afternoon included some shopping – Ollie, Katie and I headed into Luberon to browse some boutiques. There are so many lovely unique little stores with friendly clerks. I got a particularly lovely scarf and outfit, the latter such a fun buying experience, with the shopkeep weighing in with her opinion. She was lovely.

I’d tried a different outfit first and that was fine, but the one that originally caught my eye we both agreed was the right one.

I also picked up a little something – a little hanging cloth heart with prism -- for Sarah to replace something Ava broke. She “accidentally” pulled the thing that was holding it up out of the wall.

Katie and Ollie secured their items and some ice cream, so success all the way around.

Upon return I did a little packing, some showering of children and we enjoyed pre-dinner drinks. The girls had gotten plenty of sun – a bit red in spots.

For dinner the kids and I walked into Cucoron and ate in the courtyard of a lovely little French restaurant Sarah recommended. We ate beneath a grape arbour.I had a salad dressed with a delicious balsamic vinaigrette. It came with amazing melted chevre goats cheese croutons. SO good I ate all three of the very generous portions.

For my main I assumed I’d ordered a fish specialty, the daube. Surprise surprise when I received a very tasty beef stew, apparently a typical Provencale dish. No wonder the waiter came back to confirm I was indeed ordering it on one of the warmest days of the year. The gravy, in particular, was exquisite.

We elected to have dessert at the crepe restaurant, which was a great choice. Our table was outside, in another arbor-covered area. We sat in big red chairs next to an open window, which we could look into and see the lovely dining room and hear fabulous music emanating.

It was the perfect ambience, a good thing as we were there for quite some time; our waiter was extremely busy taking care of every guest in the courtyard singlehandedly, it seemed.

After we enjoyed nutella crepes (for the kids) and an almond chocolate crepe (with vanilla ice cream) for me, we walked up the hill for another view of the castly, this time lit at night. It was perfect timing for a gorgeous sunset and rose-colored views of the village.

Shortly after returning to Sarah’s we turned in, tired after a lovely day.

Friday

This a.m., our last in Provence, I headed off for a walk, again to the castle, stopping for a double espresso upon return. Lovely with lots of sugar!

We had breakfast with our hosts – breads, croissants, pain d’chocolate and a different variety of a raisin pastry (I’d tried one from bakery #1 yesterday, this from bakery # 2 – we all sampled it and determined #2 was the winner). So good and so rich that a small bit was perfect.

And then on to Avignon. After canvassing France (unintentionally but in the right direction) we made it to the TGV with 15 minutes to spare. Poor Ava threw up en route – those windy canyon roads caught up with her.

We picked up salami and Italian sandwiches for the ride and hopped on our train, this time in the upstairs compartment. Back to London, via Paris rather than Lille. Ah to be French for a week!

2 July 2011 – Warsaw!

Off to unchartered territory for us – Poland! With restaurant reservations (read: priorities!) in hand and a city tour on the books – and really no other plans – we flew out early to Warsaw on this sunny London morning.

With expectations for warm Montana-like summer temperatures, we arrived to chilly, rainy Warsaw.

While this early 7:35 a.m. flight necessitated the 4:20 alarm and subsequent dry, headachy feeling, it was preferable to our other option: the 4:35 a.m. out of Stanstead, a 2+ hour journey from London. That would have taken us to Krakow, then we would have hit Warsaw on the back end. So really, based on flight schedule alone, off to Warsaw!

The flight was uneventful, always a good thing. And the hotel pick up by Christopher was timely and easily recognizable as in hand he held the sign for “Mrs. Weber.” Maybe some day I’ll feel like Mrs. Weber. Right now I still think it’s a better title for my mother-in-law. But I digress.

The Polonia Palace, our hotel, was one of the few buildings that survived the destruction of World War II in Warsaw. Something like 80 percent of the city had been dessimated by Hitler’s forces while the Russian army watched from the other side of the river. Nice. They’re still bitter, per our Warsaw guide. Can’t say I blame them.

We dropped our things off and went in search of lunch. A couple blocks from the hotel we found a little deli with modern furnishings and incredibly delicious smells wafting out. So we opted to find a few items the kids could come to grips with – Claire had a cheese crepe and a big portion of bright red-orange carrots, cut in slivers. Ava had some dumplings stuffed with cheese and some of those colorful carrots. I had baked pieorgis stuffed with vegetables, which were fabulous, served with a small bit of white sauce that’s a common accompaniment, I assumed from the way the woman serving us put my plate together. That too was fabulous, creamy but not heavy.

And with my pierogies some lovely salad dressed with a delicious creamy vinaigrette. I can’t for the life of me recall what Joe had but we all left full and happy so it must have been fine.

From there we sauntered around the block and back to the hotel to meet our tour pick up at 2:00 for a three-hour city tour.

A brown-haired gentleman of medium height (that could describe just about anyone, couldn't it?) officiously greeted us in our lobby at 2:15 and joined three other tourists in a white mercedes van. Off we went to see Warsaw's highlights, including the Royal Castle, Old market Square and Barbican, the Presidential Palace, University of Warsaw, Hoy Cross Church with Chopiin's Heart, a Statue of Copernicus, New Town with a monument of the Warsaw Uprising, the Jewish Ghetto, Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, Palace of Culture and Science, Lazieng Royal Park with the Palace on the Water, The Chopin Monument and Praga District.

We perused the town a bit, he pointing out various sites along the way. At Lazieng Royal Park we disembarked and walked through the lovely green space. As we went further along our guide pulled out some nuts and called a red squirrel over. This one snagged a nut from Ava’s palm!

On our walk we encountered other birds – peacock and peahen, plenty of pigeons (aren’t there always), ducks, even some mice. We passed by various historical treasures, including art-deco Chopin monument (1926), the palace on the water (remodelled in 1792), an old orangery and a classicist amphitheatre loosely inspired by Herculaneum.

Back in the van we continued about town, stopping at the Monument to the Ghetto Heroes designed by Natan Rappaport (b. 1911). This monument was unveiled on April 19, 1948. The stone used to create it was originally quarried for a Nazi victory monument. The bas-relief sculpture on the posterior wall of the monument shows a procession of Jews moving toward their deaths. The primary intent of the Warsaw Ghetto Monument is to commemorate the heroism of the fighters. One must walk around to the back to see this reference to the victims.

We also saw a memorial that was a copy of a sewer cap, a tribute to the way inhabitants of the Ghettos traveled in and out covertly to get food and relay messages during the war. And further along on our tour we stopped at the Umschlagplatz, where 400 Jewish first names have been carved in the memorial to commemorate the 300,000 who passed through these gates.

In the Old Town we stopped for a walk around. This part of town, and many others of course, had been rebuilt following the destruction of the war. This area has been recreated similar to the original and is today largely touristed, as the opera house, royal palace and various museums, churches, etc. exist in the area.

Our first stop was a dash into a public building of some sort as one of the members of our group – an older gentleman from Duluth, MN, rather urgently needed a restroom. While we waited our guide took us downstairs to see two Russian statues given to Poland as a token of friendship during times of Soviet domination.

Each statue showed two soldiers, one Polish, one Russian, arm in arm. Our guide told us that the statues depicted the Russians in dominant position – left side, I think – meant to reinforce who was in charge.

We wandered through Old Town (Stare Miasto), stopped at intervals to hear how buildings had been restored, to learn about the Royal Castle, various churches, many with big signs and large posters hangling out front with Pope John Paul II’s picture on them. He pointed out the Opera House, the Royal Way, Madame Curie’s home (now a museum), the Barbican (semicircular fortified outpost) and more.

At some point along the way the older couple excused themselves – the poor man from Duluth had had a bad case of diarrhea and as a result ruined his pants. Unfortunately it was quite noticeable. And unfortunately he went into quite a detailed explanation. Sometimes less is more.

We carried on, getting an earful from our guide about one of the local restaurants marketing itself as a purveyor of fine Jewish cuisine while serving pork and various other non-kochre foods. And he pointed out a sort of austere-looking eatery that he said was typical of Poland’s pre-democracy days – limited menu and not a place he frequents any more because of the unhappy memories.

In his time with us he told of only being able to buy one pair of shoes per year, standing for hours in line to get that pair that could have been any size, only one color. People would then trade to get shoes of the right size. He remembered traveling a long ways with his father to run this errand as a teenager. Shops around Warsaw were very limited as to what they sold, he said. If two or three people gathered in front of a shop to chat many others would join, thinking the shop had received merchandise to sell.

In contrast today there were at least two shopping centers within a five-minute walk from our hotel – we could see signs for H&M (where isn’t there an H&M!), C&A, TK Maxx, Zara, Esprit.

After Old Town we walked into New Town (adjacent and built shortly after Old Town but had to be distinguished from the former!). Back in the van we drove by more monuments to victims of the war.

After our Warsaw highlights we were dropped at the hotel, where we re-grouped a bit, I worked out, Joe had some calls to make and the kids regained what seems to be a never-ending supply of energy.

Then we were off to dinner, determining a cab to be the best plan of attack as it was pouring. The hotel car/cab dropped us near Il Fukiera, the restaurant Ewa’s family had found for us after I’d asked them to phone a different eatery for a reservation. I’d tried phoning twice and got an answering service in Polish. That place had closed.

So Mark made a reservation for us at Il Fukier, a lovely, Michelin-starred restaurants in Old Town. Our children were the only ones in the place, which seemed quite traditional – lovely flowers out front, lots of floral artwork inside. In one corner was a chatty little parakeet in a lovely cage.

The menu offered all kinds of items that sounded delicious. For the kids we opted to order a dish they could share and asked to modify the pork entrée, similar to weiner-schnitzel – slightly (i.e. no sauce, veg on the side). And Calrie wanted a potato starter simplified (just potato). Ava wanted some plain pasta to start.

The waiter was less than thrilled and let me know it but made notes about our requests. He was also a bit snarky when I asked for bread – apparently I hadn’t been patient enough…I didn’t realize he was bringing it.

I had a Russian style crab cake, which was very good – served with a tomato sauce. Not so much my thing, but tasty and beautifully prepared, nonetheless. Joe’s steak was the star – I had a piece and it was truly out of this world.

The kids did a great job on their pork. My borsht (soup) was excellent, served with an amazing pasty which was filled with a bit of meat. It was fabulous, FABULOUS.

I didn’t finish my soup and was reprimanded by my waiter…I was not winning points with this man.

Dessert was fabulous – Ava had ice cream, we shared a pancake with a sweet cinnamon filling and an orange flavored piece of cake. As we exited I was relieved – what should have been a fabulous, relaxing treat of a meal was a bit jaded by the server’s attitude. Had the restaurant been opposed to deviating from the menu, he had only to say so…

We all crashed shortly after returning by cab to the hotel – our day had started too early!

Sunday

This morning we slept in – I worked out, found coffee, read and wrote and still my compatriots slept. Eventually we wandered down for our first Polish breakfast buffet – typical European breakfast options and plenty of them: a very good selection of pastries and rolls, jellies and cheese, an amazing ham leg, its black leg shape standing on the counter to be noticed and enjoyed. I jumped on the ham and those good rolls – reminded me of German breakfasts, which I loved. The kids enjoy buffets so lots of trips for bacon, cereal, nutella, toast…

After breakfast we pulled ourselves together and got some information on the tram as we were headed to Old Town and the Royal Castle. After getting completely confused by the tunnels leading from one side of the street to the other, we found the spot for Tram 4, only to find it was going in the wrong direction. Pouring yet again, Joe spotted a taxi across the street and off we went. A few minutes later we were at the Palace, ditched our wet stuff in the cloak room and wandered through. About the building:

The Royal Castle is a castle residency and was the official residence of thePolish monarchs. It is located in the Castle Square, at the entrance to the Warsaw Old Town. The personal offices of the king and the administrative offices of the Royal Court of Poland were located there from the 16th century until the Partitions of Poland. In its long history the Royal Castle was repeatedly devastated and plundered by Swedish, Brandenburgian, German, and Russian armies.

The Constitution of 3 May 1791 was drafted here by the Four-Year Sejm. In the 19th century, after the collapse of the November Uprising, it was used as an administrative center by the Tsar. Between 1926 and World War II the palace was the seat of the Polish president, Ignacy Mościcki. After the devastation done by Nazis during the Warsaw Uprising, the Castle was rebuilt and reconstructed. In 1980, Royal Castle, together with the Old Town was registry in UNESCO World Heritage Site. Today it is a historical and national monument, and is listed as a national museum.

Hit during the war (what wasn’t in Warsaw) it had been re-built in the same style with similar furnishings. Some things that had been saved were re-installed.

We then perused an exhibit of Oriental rugs next door before wandering to St. Anne’s Church bell tower for lovely views, then paid a visit to the adjsacent church. About this particular church:

St. Anne’s a church in the historic center of Warsaw, Poland, adjacent to the Castle Square. It is one of Poland's most notable churches with a Neoclassical facade. The church ranks among Warsaw's oldest buildings. Over time, it has seen many reconstructions, resulting in its present-day appearance, unchanged since 1788. Currently it is the main church parish of the academic community in Warsaw.

Then on to other parts of Old Town, more Catholic Churches (Poland is 90+ percent Catholic), some that had been re-built. Eventually we ended up at Marie Curie’s Museum, which wasn’t included in the “Free Sunday Museum line-up.” In we went; it was a bit of a rip off, I’d say, lots of photos, some lab equipment, not much depth.

Afterward we stopped at a recommended coffee shop for a snack – iced coffee and hot chocolate. Great cozy ambience.

After popping into a few shops we found a small handicrafted sheep, right up Grandma’s alley, as well as a chess set for our family. Treasures in hand we headed toward The Palace of Culture and Science, the tallest building in Poland. It was originally known as the Joseph Stalin Palace of Culture and Science but in the wake of destalinization the dedication to Stalin was revoked. Stalin's name was removed from the interior lobby and one of the building's sculptures. No, we didn’t go in – this was our landmark to find our hotel as it was across the street from the Polonia Palace.

En route we walked through the park with the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. They were just finishing the Changing of the Guard ceremony so we caught the end of it. We then traversed further into the park, hearing music as we went. Our guide had told us free outdoor concerts are prevalent in Warsaw; Chopin was born nearby so his music is well-enjoyed in Warsaw.

We experienced one of these events while the kids played in a nearby playground. After about 45 minutes of culture and playtime we wandered to our hotel. I hit the sauna – all this damp was getting to me. And I LOVE saunas.

After baking for awhile I pulled myself out and got ready for dinner, this time at a modern bistro called 99.

We walked there, past the train station and through lots of tunnels to cross the street. This restaurant was in a business district and had very modern décor, a flat screen TV in the bar broadcasting soccer. With 9’s on the door handles and sleek furniture, it had a very hip, urban feel. And lovely service.

Joe had another steak, the kids shared a steak and chip dish (and the waiter was more than happy to accommodate, even bringing them some things to color).

I had fish wrapped in parma ham – all good. Dessert was a chocolate cake with ginger marinated carrots and something else – it escapes me. Tasty, though!

It rained en route and a bit on the return but nothing horrid. Ah…Warsaw in the rain.

4th of July

Independence Day -- an odd occasion to wake up in Warsaw, I think, and to more rain. I do love to sleep to rain so just laid in bed for a long time listening to it. Eventually we roused ourselves, had breakfast and set off to find Wilanow Palace at the end of the Royal Road.

Again, in the pouring rain, we cabbed it, overcharged by the hotel cabbie but it was a ways out of town and there is that value of time saved…

We passed lots of old socialist style architecture, gray, cinder block buildings that have an old, dank feel to them, at least from outside. The castle, in contrast, was cheery golden yellow like the one we visited in Vienna’s – the color of power/royalty from years past. The grounds, too, were lovely, green, sprawling and well kept.

After securing tickets we escaped the rain and our wet jackets in the cloakroom, then wandered through the building, built in the 1600’s and modified/added to over time. A lovely place with tons of portraits. Clearly court painters were in demand.

The rooms varied widely in décor, particularly ceilings, walls and floors – lovely detail, use of materials, ornate designs, particularly the ceilings. And lovely wood floors, too.

My favorite rooms were the last – the men’s hunting rooms, with tons of lovely wood and outdoorsy pictures, guns, etc. They had a rich, warm feel to them. One section held Asian artifacts. Again, beautiful décor with lots of wood.

Some actual accurate info about the place:

Wilanow was built for Jan Sobieski (r. 1674-96), Poland's most dashing monarch. It was Sobieski who led the Catholic Allies in the liberation of Vienna from the Turks in 1683. This baroque belter later passed through the hands of several of Poland's most influential families, and it remained in private hands right up until 1944. Wilanow mercifully survived the war, and today it represents one of the richest attractions in Warsaw. It's choc-full of splendid art, including paintings by some of the biggest names in European art, from Jean-Louis David to Bernardo Bellotto.

Upon departing we tried to hit the poster exhibit but it was closed so we went to the palace church instead – it’s lovely and still in use. The outdoor Stations of the Cross and grotto were particularly nice.

All this traipsing about made us hungry so we stopped at a little Italian café for a bite. This we chose largely based on its proximity to Café Wedel, a famous chocolate café which we decided would be our dessert stop.

At the friendly, bustling little Italian lunch place the kids had veal meatballs and mashed potatoes. I had a pizza bread appetizer with blue cheese and spinach (can’t go wrong with that) and Joe a salad (what’s wrong with this picture…).

Next door I had a frozen coffee drink, Ava had a pirate ship ice creat treat (a sundae with cookies arranged to look like sails), Claire had a blue mystery dessert and Joe a really rich cake, recommended by our 15-year-old waiter. (At least he looked 15.)

He also helped us out by calling a cab, which cost less than half of our first ride…hmmm. As we hopped in the driver turned to us and asked if we were indeed the people from the chocolate restaurant who needed a lift. I suppose we should have introduced ourselves before settling into the cab, closing the doors and putting on seatbelts...

Back at the Polonia Palace Joe packed up, we saw him off and headed to H&M for new leggings for Ava, as hers had a mammoth hole in them. No kids clothes at that location so the C&A fit the bill. And then it was back to the hotel for a chess and wine break at the hotel bar before attempting the tram again.

We were determined to ride the tram in Warsaw!!! Sure enough, more rain. This time we had the direction of tram 4 and after popping out the wrong exit we asked for help, someone pointed us in the right way and voila! On to crowded tram 4. A short ride later we were in Old Town and a few minutes later at our restaurant Zapiecek Polskie Pierogarnie, a casual place known for its pierogis, popular w/ the locals and tourists alike.

A tiny little restaurant, very casual with wooden tables, we popped our things down, perused the menu and pulled out cards. I opted for three different types of pierogis in my dish, as I’d asked if you can mix – so I ordered beef/pork stuffing, brie/blue cheese and mushroom. The kids both ordered drumsticks with veg on the side. All of it was good with the exception of the house wine. When at Zapiecek Polskie Pierogarnie, stick with the beer.

Opting for an early evening and striking out to find a dark rich cholocate to finish the meal, we trammed it back and this time had no trouble finding the correct exit from our tunnel. Ahh the small successes. No chocolate but not to worry, some hotel treats awaited.

After showers the kids were wound up; Tuesday morning would come early!

Tuesday, 5 July

Off to Krakow! This morning we were up and moving early. After our final breakfast at the Polonia Palace we meandered over to the train station, a five-minute walk. The tunnels and stairs were naturally less fun with suitcases during rush hour but this time t least the tunnels were easily navigable. We popped up near the tracks with plenty of time on hand.

Our train to Krakow (Krack meaning prince, incidentally) left on time and we popped into our first class cabin. Just us, so we were able to spread out a bit. The free drink cart stopped by as we traversed, later the paid snacks. And outside it wasn’t raining! Some clouds and blue sky. The countryside was green and picturesque, with lots of farms – wheat, dairy cows, cabbage fields.

At 12:30 or so we pulled into Krakow and, following signs for “taxi” we stepped from the station into a shopping mall! With the only visible signs for shops, we backtracked a few steps to ask about taxis and were told to exit the mall and we’d find one. So it was. By 1:00 we were checking into the Radisson Blu, a lovely, modern property. We hurriedly unpacked and headed to Old Town, which we discovered was a short walk away. Our first order of business was lunch. That we found on the square, a grill connected with Miss Ewa’s recommended restaurant. It was great -- so good we went back another day.

I had a sausage with that really good spicy mustard and carrot salad. The kids had the latter too, along with chicken and pork cutlets. As we sat down a very heavy, short-lived shower hit on top of the arboretum-type roof. It hadn’t been rainy until lunchtime but perhaps we were under a weather cloud on this trip…

From lunch we set off to find our tourist meeting point for our salt mine tour. That was easily navigated so we had dessert nearby before boarding our bus. Claire had a craving for a waffle covered with sweet stuff; they were (literally) huge in Krakow. She got one with chocolate syrup and whipped cream. Ava and I had small but tasty ice creams. And then on to the salt mine!

Our ride there was uneventful; inside the mine we descended something like 800 steps. And this was just to view a very small portion of the mine – I think the guide said we would see 1 percent of it (and we wandered through various tunnels and open spaces, went even further down, for more than two hours – the place is IMMENSE). And very cool, as noted below…

One traveled Frenchman observed in the 18th century that Krakow's Wieliczka salt mine was no less magnificent than the Egyptian pyramids. Millions of visitors, the crowned heads and such celebrities as Goethe and Sarah Bernhardt among them, have appeared to share his enthusiasm when exploring the subterranean world of labyrinthine passages, giant caverns, underground lakes and chapels with sculptures in the crystalline salt and rich ornamentation carved in the salt rock. They have also marveled at the ingenuity of the ancient mining equipment in the Wieliczka salt mine. And the unique acoustics of the place have made hearing music here an exceptional experience.

The Wieliczka Salt Mine, nowadays practically on the southeast outskirts of Krakow, has been worked for 900 years. It used to be one of the world's biggest and most profitable industrial establishments when common salt was commercially a medieval equivalent of today's oil. Always a magnet, since the mid-18th century Krakow's Wieliczka salt mine has become increasingly a tourist attraction in the first place. Today visitors walk underground for about 2,000 m in the oldest part of the salt mine and see its subterranean museum, which takes three hours or so.

Nine centuries of mining in Wieliczka produced a total of some 200 kilometers of passages as well as 2,040 caverns of varied size. The tourist route starts 64 m deep, includes twenty chambers, and ends 135 m below the earth surface, where the world's biggest museum of mining is located with the unique centuries-old equipment among its exhibits.

Occasionally concerts and other events take place in the Wieliczka mine’s biggest chambers.

There is a sanatorium for those suffering from asthma and allergy situated 135 meters deep underground in the Wieliczka Salt Mine.

Our guide was very good – a young man who did a nice job navigating our rather large group while sharing insights with humor. Highlights were the chapels, which could be found throughout the mine, and in particular a large one decorated with statues carved from salt.

In a couple places were wooden statues, too, and wood braces were used for support in the mine. Because salt works as a preserver the wood was very hard.

The mine is no longer in use except for water that is pulled up for safety reasons (flood avoidance). The salt that is evaporated from this water is harvested and sold/used locally for tourism purposes (decoration, souvenirs, etc).

Four hundred people work in the mine now; when it was in full production 1,000+ were employed there. Now it’s used for art and music events, tourism, weddings, etc. The Pope has said Mass in the big Chapel and there is a statue of him inside, as well as other statues of leaders and saints. Each week Mass is held in the big chapel.

Different colors of salt make the tunnels and floors look beautiful – some white like clouds (that’s the purest salt), some colorful veins, some sparking like crystals. Miners even carved statues of elves who they thought of as working and taking care of the mine after they left at the end of the day.

Miners used candles from pork fat with a wick as lamps, starting when they entered in the morning, using them throughout the work day and finishing the candle fat as they made their way out at day’s end.

Small horses were used in the mines. They were blindfolded and lowered in, would then live inside, generally working for 14 years or so, then removed to retire on the farm. Apparently the last one worked inside for nine years and is still on a farm.

The girls got to turn a big hand crank to move a cable which lowered a barrel that would have been filled with salt.

The experience was a good one, quite different from our German salt mine tour, which we also very much enjoyed.

It took us a long time to exit due to the line at the elevator, but once on board a quick ascent. And then back to the bus. Given we would return late, I’d cancelled our reservation at Farina, a restaurant in Old Town known for its fish and pierogis. But alas we were hungry and it was en route from bus to hotel so we popped in to see if they would still seat us and they did. We perched at a tiny table in the window with wooden table covered with a crocheted table cloth. It wasn’t a terribly practical perch for three but a lovely little setting in this quaint restaurant.

I had mussels, the kids tried them too and we all enjoyed them! The pierogis, I can attest, were fabulous. The girls were happy with their spaghetti and ice cream. I finished with a decadent coffee semi-freddo.

And we fell into bed at the Radisson, Claire on the couch, Ava and I shared the bed.

Wednesday

This morning we walked, in the pouring rain, to Wawel Castle, a couple minutes from the hotel. This time we borrowed umbrellas from the hotel and went up the hill to the castle, joining the slow ticket line. We opted to see the private apartments, crowned jewels and cathedral.

Wawel is an architectural complex erected over many centuries atop a limestone outcrop on the left bank of the Vistula River in Kraków,Poland, at an altitude of 228 metres above the sea level. It is a place of great significance to the Polish people. The Royal Castle with an armoury and the Cathedral are situated on the hill. Polish Royalty and many distinguished Poles are interred in theWawel Cathedral. Royal coronations took place there also.

Wawel began to play the role of a centre of political power at the end of the first millennium AD. In the 9th century it became the principal fortified castrum of theVistulans tribe (Polish: Wiślanie). The first historical ruler Mieszko I of Poland (c.965-992) of the Piast dynasty as well as his successors: Boleslaw I the Brave (Polish:Bolesław I Chrobry; 992-1025) and Mieszko II (1025–1034) chose Wawel as one of their residences. At that time Wawel became one of the Polish main centres of Christianity. The first early Romanesque buildings were erected there including a stone cathedral serving the bishopric of Kraków in the year 1000. Since the reign of Casimir the Restorer(1034–1058) Wawel became the leading political and administrative centre for the Polish State.

After ditching the umbrellas, which was required, and inconviently crossing back through poruing rain in the courtyard, we had a great guided tour of the royal apartments:

On the first floor there are private royal apartments, chambers for court members and guest rooms.

Four chambers located to the south of the Envoys’ Stairs were designated for the King’s guests. In this part of the palace there are original larch wood ceilings, and also original painted wall friezes in two of the rooms. In terms of architecture especially noteworthy are the Gothic and Renaissance portals – the artwork of Maestro Benedict. The Renaissance furnishing includes northern European and Italian artwork, including the tapestries with grotesque, landscape and animal themes from the collection of Sigismund Augustus. The last two rooms boast Italian paintings from the old collection of the Lanckoroński family. Over 60 paintings from this collection form a studiolo in one of the rooms in Jordanka, the Gothic tower.

In the north-east corner of the castle, with its Gothic rooms, there is the charming and mysterious Hen’s Foot Tower. In Łokietek’s Tower there is Sigismund the Old’s bedroom, and in Sigismund III’s Tower there is an office with rich stucco decoration from around 1600. In the interwar period this section of the castle served as a formal apartment of Polish President Ignacy Mościcki, along with the remaining bedroom in the Danish Tower. In the northern wing of the palace there are two rooms with objects from the reign of the Wettin dynasty in Poland. Among them is an interesting collection of Meissen porcelain. The last two rooms, one of which is the formal Column Room, are furnished in the Classicistic style.

Then to the Treasury, which was also interesting, and finally on to the Cathedral, which was huge and full of all kinds of things to peruse. We had a quite thorough look at all the chapels, the main body of the cathedral, climbed up the bell tower and were pointed toward the crypt and kings’ tombs.

By then we were ready to be away from castles! And hungry, too, so off to Old Town. En route we popped into an exhibit about Pope John Paul II, purchased mini-rosaries and walked to Cloth Hall in the Square.

Finding no food, we returned to our fabulous grill. This time I had onion soup, the kids had chicken and pork again, though they switched it up. I tried a regional beer – Tyskie -- which was very good.

For dessert we popped into a bakery; the kids got cupcakes and I had a fabulous chocolate-filled pastry.

And then we traversed back to Cloth Hall to look at every stand in search of just the right souvenir, amber on my list. Claire, after deliberating between nesting dolls and painted horses, surprised me by opting for the dolls. Ava saw a cute blonde doll at stand number one and sure enough, we left with said doll after circling back on a second round. I came up short; I was looking for something unique at a reasonable price and with a pleasant buying experience. Here it seemed the clerks were a bit burnt out and bored. No doubt they get worn out with the tourist trade.

Then we went back to the tour office to pay for our Zakopane day out and to arrange airport pick up. En route we stopped to look at more amber and I found a lovely pendant in a shop run by a friendly young woman, so a great buying experience, lovely souvenir and the right price!

Tired, we traversed toward our hotel, stopped in an amazing women’s shop with great linen outfits. The owner was a big, friendly lady with a great eye for fashion. I tried on a hand-painted tunic and three outfits. It was so much fun – she chatted away in Polish, me in English, as she dressed me, showing options with belts, tucking and tying sweaters. I loved the blue sweater and dress with hand-painted blue décor so left with those three items (belt, dress, sweater).

Two other women helped, doing some translating – I think I can safely say we all enjoyed the experience, kids got into it too!

After re-grouping at the hotel we stopped at the shop en route to Chlopskie Jadlo, our dinner spot for the evening!

This restaurant was very casual, very thinly staffed and pretty empty when we came in. With all wooden tables and benches, it was warm and friendly. No one was on hand to seat us but eventually a nice man surfaced from the kitchen and waved us toward a table. No sledge tables as advertised, but we found a comfy spot near a window, away from the loud party in the back.

I tried a framboise (?) beer – lovely beer with sweetened raspberries at the bottom. For dinner I had one of the best meals of my life – a veal dish with an amazing gravy, carmelized onions and mushrooms. It came with small donut-shaped dumplings that were perfect. I ate too much and enjoyed every bit. No dessert necessary! Claire tried peirogis and liked them, Ava had a chicken dish. Very informal, good food, the big hunk of bread served with a big knife sticking out of it.

We walked slowly back to the hotel, falling, sated, into bed.

Thursday

This morning we were picked up for our tour of Zakopane, joining our female guide, a woman with short hair and a great sense of style. Before we got in she said the Korean laides (there were two) on the trip didn’t speak English. These two little ladies were seated next to each other in the middle of the van; we three took the last row.

As we exited Krakow the guide pointed out a few sites – one a factory where the Pope worked as a small boy, some Soviet style buildings, Shindler’s home, views of the castle from the river, etc.

We settled into our two-hour drive and about halfway both kids felt sick, Ava bursting into tears. So our driver pulled over and we re-arranged the kids to the front seat. In a while we stopped at a little village for a short walk, looking at the traditional wooden homes with two rooms – one the black room with kitchen where the family lived, the other a nice room for more occasional use. Each house was made from a single tree, we were told.

We went in one, where a man was carving a statue of a saint who had bestowed bread upon those in need. It would be placed in a church. The carver had lots of items on display in his workshop, in the black room area. The other space had artifacts from life in the 1700’s and 18oo’s (wheat grinder, tools, saddle, washing board, etc.). We passed a woman washing her house as we walked; apparently the homes here, because they aren’t painted, are washed yearly.

From this stop we proceeded onto Zakopane, stopping at a chapel in the woods where the Pope had led Mass. It was lovely, with stations of the cross carved in wood outside, leading down to a beautiful wooden altar in the woods. We also visited the adjacent church and enjoyed gorgeous views of the Tetra Mountains on our one gloriously sunny day of our Poland trip!

On the hill side were peaks in the shape of a sleeping person and a small cross on the mountain top, a replica of it near the church.

Back in the van we made our way to Zakopane, a well touristed spot with all kinds of kid activities to enjoy – bouncy houses and whatnot. We parked, picked up some local candies and wandered through town to the oldest church in the area. It too was made of wood. Inside were portraits of the children from Fatima who’d predicted the Pope’s assassination attempt. One of the stained glass windows captured this act.

The cemetery nearby had lovely decorated grave sites of people of great notoriety from the area – poets, writers, scholars, rescue workers, ski champions. Quite a mix!

Our guide then took us to the funicular for a scenic ride up the mountain. We disembarked to find another busy shopping village (we’d walked through two busy tourist markets below). Tons of smoked cheese, traditional to the area, wooden décor, trinkets, scarves, etc. We decided we’d try the skinny chocolate/vanilla swirled cones later…

From the funicular our guide walked us to a viewing point, then up to areas where there were rides and activies for kids and grills with great tables to enjoy the scenery. She parted from us with the Korean ladies in tow – they didn’t seem to understand about the 3:00 meeting point. We set off to enjoy our two hours of free time, deciding to eat first and play later. Claire went in for a sausage, as did I, Ava for a chicken kebab. We sat outside at a big wooden table absorbing the view. I loved the weather, warm and sunny, no rain! Our next order of business was the “bunji-jumping” on trampolines, which we spotted before lunch. Both kids had fun with it, Ava lifted off so it was hard for her to touch down a few times.

Then we went onto our ice cream quest; coming up short, we stopped for a toboggan ride, Clarie taking the sled in front of Ava and me. Great fun whipping around the turns.

Then back to the funicular for a ride down the mountain and a wander through the market. We found our ice cream! It was tasty on this warm sunny day. The kids then convinced me they needed lamb pillows so we left with a white one and a pink one. And we made our way back to our meeting point just before the van pulled up.

Our last stop was at the World ski jump facility for a photo opp before heading back to Krakow. This time the kids were merrier, playing games with the guide and asking about her kids, a boy and girl of similar age.

We were back before 5:30 so had some packing time before walking to our restaurant in Kazimierz, the Jewish part of town. Kazimierz, which lies to the south of the Royal Castle, was once a town in its own right. With its labyrinthine streets and low-standing houses, it feels like a different world to the Old Town, and indeed, you may well get lost here. However, this is not a bad thing, but very much part of the whole experience.

The town was founded in 1335 by King Kazimierz the Great, and as its splendid churches and synagogues evoke, it was once a world of prosperity and tolerance. Yet, despite having set sail on such promising waters, the district was not to have an easy journey. After many ups and downs, the death-knell for Jewish Cracow was sounded in September 1939 with the Nazi invasion. A whole world was swept away.

We had a great table outside in a charming part of town, with live music nearby, great service and good food. The waiter recommended chicken strips for the kids, a Jewish beef specialty for me, served with gravy and dumplings. Bring on the dumplings, I say! I enjoyed it, along with a beet salad – another heavy meal so I passed on dessert. We meandered back to the Radisson to find there’d been a mix up in tour arrangements – apparently another guide had shown up to take us to Zakopane. Hmmm…

And Friday…off to London after a final breakfast in Poland!

Bath – 11 – 13 February, 2011

With a short break in the school routine, we girls (Ava, Claire and me) headed via train to Bath on a lovely Friday morning. We’d arranged for Joe to meet us in Bath, travelling also by train though in the evening.

So we got in after our short journey and walked down to our guest house, a lovely little gem I’d read about in the Telegraph. We checked in and left our things at Three Abbey Green, run by a very nice family. Our suite had a big bedroom with small one attached and a big bathroom. The latter had recently been re-done so was quite nice. And we were right around the corner from Bath’s infamous Pump Room and Roman Baths. Great location, personal touch on the accommodations.

We then made our way to the Fashion Museum and Assembly Rooms. At the museum we perused all kinds of fashion throughout the ages, which was great fun. The collection at the Fashion Museum includes examples of menswear, womenswear, accessories, dresses, coats, jackets, corsets, knitwear, fashion photographs, pockets, shirts, blouses, waistcoats, fans and more. The earliest pieces in the collection are embroidered shirts and gloves from about 1600.

The most up-to-date pieces in the collection are our 2008 Dress of the Year ensembles; a Navy blue and gold star trouser ensemble by Karl Lagerfeld forChanel, which was worn by Kate Moss to her 34th birthday party in 2008; and a button through polka dot dress with 1940s / 1970s shoulder pads by Kate Moss forTopshop.

Mid-way through was a collection of robes, dresses, corsets and whatnot for kids to try on, so they modeled fancy outfits. They also got to color some costumes.
Then we perused the Assembly Rooms, which were “at the heart of fashionable Georgian society, the perfect venue for entertainment. When completed in 1771, they were described as 'the most noble and elegant of any in the kingdom'.”

After our perusal we walked back toward the busier part of town, looking at the lovely shops en route.

We stopped at our hotel to change for our afternoon tea appointment at the Pump Room:
Regarded as the social heart of Bath for more than two centuries, the Pump Room is a striking neo-classical salon where hot Spa water is drawn for drinking.

There we shared a lovely platter of scones, sandwiches and little treats. I had a pot of tea, the kids hot chocolate. As we ate sumptuous food and sipped our drinks, we watched people coming in and out for the famous Bath water at the pump.

Afterwards we slipped back into exploring clothes and shoes and walked along the river, which offered lovely views.

A bit later we made our way to our restaurant – the Marlborough Tavern -- for dinner, not far from the Assembly Rooms. It was a bustling place, with a raucous table of really happy and loud men near us, so after we were moved to a more sedate locale we enjoyed the cheery interior and delicious food. Joe caught up with us there and we all walked back through Bath together.

Saturday, 12 February

This a.m. we started the day with a nice breakfast at the guest house, each dish made to order by our hosts. I so enjoyed the scrambled eggs. Very friendly people and lovely fresh food. Then off to the Roman Baths, where we spent a couple of hours perusing. The place is huge and fascinating. We did the audio guides as they had both kids and adult versions.

Around Britain's only hot springs, the Romans built the
finest religious spa in northern Europe. This great
temple and bathing complex still flows with natural hot
water. The extensive remains and a Roman museum of
international significance lie beneath the Pump Room
and Abbey Church Yard in the centre of Bath.
Afterward we stopped at the Abbey Church. It was founded in 1499 and stands on the site of an earlier Norman Cathedral. The original Abbey Church was built in the 8th century.

Then on to lunch at the very touristy Sally Lunn Restaurant/Bakery. It's a busy place but we hit it when there wasn't a line out the door so lucked out. The Sally Lunn Rolls are really quite good, the big old house it's set in is lovely and quaint.

About Sally Lunn...THE ORIGINAL BATH BUN & ONE OF THE OLDEST HOUSES IN BATH

Sally Lunn, a young French refugee, arrived in England over 300 years ago. She found work at what is now known as Sally Lunn's House and began to bake a rich round and generous bread now known as the Sally Lunn Bun. This bun became a very popular delicacy in Georgian England as its special taste and lightness allowed it to be enjoyed with either sweet or savoury accompaniments.

Sally Lunn’s is in one of Bath's oldest houses and has a museum featuring Sally’s original kitchen.

The infamous bun, which we sampled and found very tasty, is a rich round and generous brioche bun’ similar to the historic French festival ‘breads’. Sally Lunn, a Huguenot refugee (perhaps better known as Solange Luyon) came to Bath in 1680 via Bristol after escaping persecution in France.

After a tasty lunch at the big, touristy old Sally Lunn house, we traversed over to the river for a tour of Bath via boat. Lovely views, good weather. And then some down time at the hotel for kids and Joe; I took a walk around town and sought out the evening’s restaurant, this time The Hole in the Wall Restaurant, which was good, but didn’t quite measure up to the previous night’s dinner spot.

After a nice meal we checked out Bath at dusk.

And the next morning we headed off to London! Great weekend out.

In Tribute

2011-06-15T00:27:00.001-07:00

Since Easter we’ve been flying fast, I guess. Or haven’t moved an inch but everything around us keeps spinning.

It’s been, for the most part, good. But I am so saddened by recent news that a dear friend of mine passed.

After picking my jaw up off the table, I've been processing the news of Becca's death and it's been very painful. It's hard to believe she's no longer lighting up every room she enters in Texas. A truly beautiful woman, inside and out, I loved knowing she was energetically taking care of her kids and Don, enjoying the pool with her hair pulled up on top of her head, sporting sparkly makeup, enjoying a glass of red wine, throwing herself into school volunteerism, being an active memer of her “church-home” as she called it.

I loved hearing how she sold things on e-bay, I loved the over the top birthday parties she put together for her kids, I loved our lunches together. I loved her laughter and huge smile, her big Texas welcome and the way she always put the people in her life first.

And I always expected to pop back in for that welcome and long girlie catch up.
The day I learned of her death I felt all the wind go out of my sails. Forty-three is too young to die.

I regret that I didn’t see her again, I regret that I can’t pick up the phone and say a proper good-bye. I regret that I didn’t email her that one last time.

I shall always treasure my friendship with Becca; I gain some solace in knowing she rests in peace, cherished by God.

Chester and Liverpool

2011-06-15T00:12:00.000-07:00

Saturday, May 28

Another Bank Holiday Weekend! We’ve had the most disjointed term, beginning with spring break back in March, Easter as late as it can be, I suppose, and the number of bank holiday weekends in between. Why, it’s gotten to the point where, when the girls did have a full 5-day school week it felt like 10!

So this week it felt “normal” with Friday off for teacher report-writing, Monday for the holiday.

Our big plan for Friday was the Museum of Childhood but alas it wasn’t to be, as when I filled the tub for a hot bath (I like it when the water is almost too hot to step into) I got quite the bone-chilling surprise. In went one foot…and right back out again. Imagine my disappointment given I’d run that morning and had since cooled WAY down so the hot bath was going to resurrect me.

Instead I did a very fast shower (no escaping some kind of cleaning process after running)…and called the gas company. (Not of course until I’d re-set the boiler, checked the other hot water taps, swore a bit…)

British Gas, surprisingly enough, could get someone to the house between noon and 6. So we made waffles and had a nightie day. Blow me down and call me Alice, as Joe would say, the gas guy called at 11:45 to say he was in the area. And before 1:00 he was replacing a tired switch and before 2:00 hot water!

Too late to embark on any outing (and at that point who cared) we continued with our at home day, did eventually leave the house for Ava’s dance class and made pizza for dinner. And packed!

Not all bad.

Saturday we left early for Euston station, this time en route to Chester, a small town near Liverpool. After a crowded two hour train ride and some seat assignment issues (other people’s squabbles over our seats – that is to say we sat in unreserved seats that an irate woman noted were hers). Perhaps we had indeed stolen her seats, but they were marked as unreserved, the train people weren’t on hand to clarify and the car was so crowded it would have taken a crane to relocate us. She eventually worked her way through the aisle crammed with people and luggage to a different car to complain and I believe was relocated to first class. Not without making a nasty comment on the way back through. A bit passive aggressive; she dropped her nasty gram and walked away…not sure what she gained?

Once in Chester we cabbed it to our Crowne Plaza, ditched the bags and headed off in search of lunch. Our Chester, as it turned out, is a quaint old town settled early by Romans.

Lots of pedistrain streets, a 2+ mile intact city wall, big cathedral, amphitheatre and various lovely buildings.

Founded by the Romans over 2000 years ago, much of the Roman influence remains and Chester's city walls are the most complete in Britain.

In every corner of the city you are confronted with history, from the Roman amphitheatre, which is currently under excavation, to the medieval half-timbered buildings.
One of Chester's most unique features are the two-tiered rows, which means you can shop whatever the weather and gives you double shopping fun!

For lunch we wandered through the pedestrian area of town and landed upon a stuffed baked potato fast food place. Much better than the big mac scene.

A breezy, sunny Chester knd of day, we then sought off in search of a cab to take us to Cotebrook Shire Horse Centre, which boasts the top Shire studs in the UK. And since the Shire is native to the UK, most likely the world’s greatest Shires.

Our cab driver was a friendly old gentleman with his dog along for company. Joe noticed the pooch, who kept a low profile on the passenger side of this rather beat up, fumy old black cab. As we motored toward the Shire farm I felt like I was back in India; the driver suddenly veered off the road for a gas station, without any mention of his gas up plans. It was then that Ned, the dog, introduced himself to us. The kids were enthralled, naturally.

At the farm we checked out the various animal mix – peacocks resting on top of a hutch, several types of birds I couldn’t identify, ducks, doves or a close relative, I guess, chickens, geese, swans with cygnets, pigs and piglets (I always marvel at how cute the little ones are and how not so cute the mothers are), rabbits young and old, chicks under heating lamps…

The kids each had a bag of bird feed so they went wild feeding their feathered friends.

We stopped to check out the stallions, two housed near the entrance. At 2:00 the owner of the farm, Alistair, talked about the horses, giving plenty of insight on their backgrounds and breeding – as in both their bloodlines and their Jan. – June pastime. Apparently plenty of mares roll through the farm so these big horses father hundreds of shire foals.

Big is an understated adjective for them – the breed is the biggest horse in the world. In recent years their numbers have dwindled as their roles on farms and in war diminished. This farm is active in helping to ensure quality Shire horses continue.

After learning all about the cycles of mares and how often Ed and the other stallion are “on their back legs” each spring, we perused the farm, checking out unusual black sheep and their lambs, otters, ferrets, Shire mares and foals (they’re gorgeous!), some deer and I’m sure I’m forgetting some creatures.

The badger we didn’t see…

After getting rid of the last bit of bird feed we left a donation in the gift shop, shared a chocolate-caramel-shortbread bar (what are they called? One of my favorite desserts here) in the café and rang for our cab driver.

After dropping us back in Chester we popped into the Cathedral but it was soon to close so we opted for Monday on that, poked around town then headed back to the Crowne for some pool time.

And then, before we knew it, time to go to dinner at Moules-a-Go-Go, a cheery bistro known for its mussels and other fish specialities. It was delish – we had a mussel starter – both kids tried and liked them.

I had seafood spaghetti, Joe had sea bass, I think, and kids had spaghetti and chicken. Dessert was a fabulous sticky toffee pudding with ice cream for C and A.

Sunday

Today we shot out the door after buffet breakfast at the fine CP. This time off to the train station for a short ride to Liverpool St. James Street Station. There we were met by Ian in his silver Mercedes tour van. With him were an Angentinian couple, and we picked up an American named Beau, a collegiate from Penn, in the UK for a writing course. And we were off to stop at or drive by various “Beatle” spots. Where they lived at various junctures of their lives, school they attended, a monument to them and other Liverpool types who’d gained fame, places they’d performed, sites pertaining to songs (Penny Lane, Strawberry Field gates, etc.).

We were in and out of the van a lot and it felt like we drove all over Liverpool so we got a sense of place. Appropriately, it was gray and cool – buildings mostly red brick, many boarded up and some soon to be pulled down, including Ringo Starr’s first childhood home, a “2 up, 2 down” row house with no plumbing.

Our guide was good, had lots of stories to share and seemed to enjoy the job.
He dropped us at Albert Dock afterward, where our first order of business was lunch. Claire pointed us toward Le Creperie so we each had a supposed Brittany style crepe – squared off on the place, sporting its filling with a pizza approach as opposed to tucked inside.

I can vouch that mine was very tasty; the hot chocolate it came with felt great on our chilly Liverpool day.

Then we did the Beatles Museum, which was very good, with kid and adult audio guides.
From there we stopped into the Maritime Museum. We hit a couple sections and caught a one-person play as it was about to begin – a woman re-enacting surviving her experience as a first class passenger on board the Titanic. I confess I dozed for part of it…Claire had a nice chat w/ her afterward so I think the kids got something out of it.

Done with museums for a bit, we headed toward a shopping area, found the much-needed and promised piece of chocolate and made our way to our dinner spot. En route we passed the fifth largest cathedral in the world:

From the very early days of its origins and then starting to build just after the turn of the 20th Century, through to its completion in 1978 after 74 years, it survived two World Wars, periods of recession and great hardship in this once famous and important port of Liverpool.

• Liverpool is the largest Cathedral in the UK (in sq metres), and the 5th largest in the world.
• It's under-tower vault is the highest in the world
• It's bells are the highest and heaviest peal in the world
• There are two pipe organs in Liverpool Cathedral. The Grand Organ is the largest in the UK and is considered to be one of the largest operational church organs in the world with 10,267 pipes.

It is immense, of course, and lovely – we also checked out a photograph exhibition set up inside.

Then on to London Carriage House restaurant (yes, in Liverpool, not London) – very good food. Kids and I liked my potato/leek soup. They had chicken and potatoes, I had an amazing goat cheese and leek pastry dish with sea asparagus (?). For dessert – apple crumblish dessert (I’m making up the name). All good!

Then back to St. James train station and to the CP Chester!

Monday

We slept in! I took another walk around the city, this time over the 2-mile city wall. It was drizzly and quiet out, but lovely. I passed the Roman amphitheatre en route. The kids and Joe were in the pool when I returned so I showered them up, hit the weight room (why not? Always take advantage of the hotel amenities is my mantra), then down to breakfast – superb omlette!

And then to the Chester Cathedral, also majestic. We did the audio guide while kids had a treasure hunt activity that kept them busy.

Chester Cathedral was founded as a Benedictine monastery over 900 years ago. It is is the mother church of the Church of England Diocese of Chester, and is located in the city of Chester,Cheshire, England. The cathedral, formerly St Werburgh's abbey church of a Benedictine monastery, is dedicated to Christ and the Blessed Virgin Mary. Since 1541 it has been the centre of worship, administration, ceremony and music for the city and diocese.

The cathedral, typical of English cathedrals in having been modified many times, dates from between 1093 and the early 16th century, although the site itself may have been used for Christian worship since Roman times. All the major styles of English medieval architecture, from Norman to Perpendicular are represented in the present building.

The cathedral and monastic buildings were extensively restored during the 19th century amidst some controversy, and a free-standing bell-tower was added in the 20th century. In addition to holding services for Christian worship, the cathedral is used as a venue for concerts and exhibitions.

After perusing a bit more of the town, we settled into a cozy spot for a drink – great day for tea or a beer, as it was a rainy one. Then off to train station to London – this time without seat issues!

Sweden!

2011-05-05T22:35:00.000-07:00

Sveden! I know I know it’s Sweden but something about it wants me to pronounce it with a v.

Good Friday 2011 found us en route to Heathrow for a mid-a.m. flight. Busy place, Heathrow, but we made it there in short order after paying an arm and a leg for the Heathrow Express. Seems like the fares are all over the map when you purchsa e on board. Captive audience, I suppose.

But alas, once there we moved through the process efficiently; one never knows how the security business will go. Therein we had plenty of time to pass along with plenty of other travelrs – people in London/the UK in general seem to very much value being well traveled, as conversations and interactions with cab drivers, teachers, pilates instructors, other mums often gravitate toward holidays spent abroad.

Our Stockholm flight happily left on time and a couple hours later we entered Sweden for the first time. After the fastest customs experience ever we grabbed the right bags – always a plus – and were whisked off to our hotel by driver Patrick, who pointed out tennis pro Bjorn Borg in his van near ours in the parking lot. Now that’s an auspicious start to the weekend.

From the airport to Stockholm central took about 45 minutes over land that resembled Minnesota, I suppose? Lots of trees (think evergreens), some lakes, no mountains, plenty of wide open space.

The buildings we saw from the road were big and square with a contemporary warehousy look. The sun beamed and it was a beautiful, warm day.

Central Stockholm we found charming – older buildings, classic in style, well kept and colorful as they graced the water’s edge. Our fine Diplomat Hotel was in the city centre near the water, with tour boats in the harbor close at hand.

Therein our first order of business was to ditch our stuff and get tickets for the “Under the Bridges” tour – an hour and 50 minute boat ride around the city. Ours left at 4, which worked perfectly. With audio guides and our choice of language we learned a bit about the city of islands – lovely place with historic buildings dating back to the 12 century. We passed under 15 bridges and trhough two locks connecting the Baltic Sea with Lake Mälaren, with views of the inner city, the Old Town, the islands Södermalm, Lilla and Stora Essingen, the new area Hammarby Sjöstad and the green areas of Djurgården.

Despite the apparent suckiness of the headphones (per the kids) they managed to tune in for the most part, and Joe got a few winks in. Boat tours and naps are a common theme for him.

Back ashore we got ready for dinner and headed to Gamla Stan, the oldest part of Stockholm for a meal at Fem Sme Haus. We found it a lovely, elegant cellar setting with lots of nooks and crannies. Our tall, friendly server led us through the menu. The kids had the option of smaller portions of any entrees or the famed Swedish meatballs. Claire opted for the former – halibut – Ava the latter. Upon our waiter’s recommendation Joe and I also had the halibut, served with fabulous potatoes.
For a starter I had a herring and cheese tasting plate – herring served pickled, with a sweet raspberry sauce (tastes much better than it sounds), with a dill cream sauce and in a smoky fashion. Pickled and the sweeter one held the most appeal for me. Joe had lobster bisque, which he said was tasty.

And for dessert, ice cream for the kids, something wickedly chocolate for me and a more traditional Swedish something for Joe, again per recommendation of the waiter.
Quite satisfied, we headed back to the Diplomat, a lovely walk next to the water upon the return, with cool crisp weather and a sky devoid of clouds overhead.

My Saturday morning started in the hotel’s exercise room. I’d read that you need to make an appointment (hmm?) so I’d set something up after hearing there was a Jacuzzi, sauna and “all in one” exercise room, available for free for one hour.
Since I do enjoy hitting a gym when I can, and since I am of the mind that one should take full advantage of hotel amenities, I reported for key pickup at 6:30 a.m. (No I’m not a fanatic but with the hour time difference I was up and ready to sweat.)

The exercise suite turned out to be a bit like what one might have in a very nice home – a room with couch and next to it a state of the art elliptical machine (lots of gadgetry) and a weight machine behind it. This piece of equipment could be modified to work a myriad of body parts.

So I did both, passed on the Jacuzzi as I wasn’t crazy about getting wet before I’d had coffee, checked out the sauna and moved onto the quest for caffeine.

Now thoroughly awoken, I made my way to our room, wherein Joe did a couple miles around Stockholm and the kids had a lie-in (good British term, I think). Then it was off to see how the Swedish breakfast buffet measured up.

It’s great fun to see what restaurants offer up at their buffets – generally plenty of western goodies but one can always find local favorites. Here, alongside the bacon and eggs we found pates, pickles and herring. And some very good breads with lots of grains and seeds. The jams and jellies accompanying them were particularly tasty, as were the cheeses. Ava went for the salami and pickles and watermelon (what a combo), Claire the bacon and bread.

From the hotel we headed to the island of Djurgården, where the “must-see” Vasa museum is located. “The museum displays the only almost fully intact 17th century ship that has ever been salvaged, the 64-gun warship Vasa that sank on her maiden voyage in 1628.”

Built around a very tall ship that had a very short tenure on the water (it sank within a few minutes of setting sail), the museum does a thorough job of illustrating how it was made, life at the time of the Vasa, how the ship was recovered (it was well preserved in the brackish waters – a mix of fresh water/sea water) in the 1960’s, how some of the crew may have looked and what they ate (based on skeletons studied), etc.

It’s a very tall, imposing ship and all the levels built around it give great perspectives from the literal views of the ship to the various aspects of ship building, life at the time, getting it out of the water, etc.

Upon leaving the Vasa we went to the very conveniently located Astrid Lundgren Museum (think Pippy Longstocking). The museum’s name is “Junibacken.” There we spent a couple of long (for the adults) hours. We came in as a show was wrapping up in one of the downstairs play areas so it was jampacked with adults and kids racing from one play spot to the next.

Eventually Joe saved my sanity by finding other play areas upstairs, where a bit more breathing room was to be had. This play area housed, quite appropriately, Pippi’s house. So the kids played while we watched the clock, thinking that the 1:45 train ride (THE thing to do here) was a long ways off. However, we opted for lunch in Pippi’s cafeteria, which was not bad, actually. I had the Swedish meatballs, which I guess are generally served w/ potatoes and lingonberries. And after resuming some playtime we queued up for the all important train ride, wherein we were escorted to a Disney-like carriage of sorts and esconced behind a safety bar. The car slowly took us through scenes from Lundgren’s books, through a messy room, for example, up into the sky, past a giant rat, down into a lovely valley, all acompanied with a recitation in English. Very well done and definitely the high point of the museum (a.k.a. over priced play area teeming w/ the 3-4 year old crowd).
Naturally all paths lead through the gift shop at this place…

From Pippy’s playtime we wandered over to Skansen, a huge outdoor museum set on a hill overlooking Stockholm. It features old historic buildings, a stage, restaurants, Scandinavian animals, a farm area and more. So after paying more exorbitant museum fees (costly place, Stockholm), we went on a mission to find ice cream. Once secured and enjoyed, we sought out the Scandinavian animals, some not so Scandinavian. Buffalo, bears, a sleeping lynx, some seals (one very itchy, sunbathing next to the glass wall where we were leaning), various birds including peackocks (which did look a little out of place, I thought), two elk moose and I’m sure I’m forgetting some others.

On the way out we passed the cows, goats and their friends.

After all our wandering we were museumed out and collapsed at the hotel. But not before enjoying a beer near the water, of course. The kids had tall fancy mocktails –plenty of soda and sugar.

For dinner: Ulla Wimblah, which we were told was easy to find and close by. How was it, then, that we couldn’t find the place…after walking away from it and being thwarted in our attempts to find anyone who knew it or the area or even a taxi, we came upon a very nice man (a Polish French man or French Pole – not sure what’s correct or if it matters) who was pushing his bike. He told us we were within 50 meters of our destination and to follow him. I’m happy to say he led us to it. My heart sank, however, when the matir’d informed us kindly that she’d just given our table away.

But alas! She said she would figure something out and that she did, as a few minutes later we were seated at a lovely table in the warm, comfortable dining area.
The place was bustling; our waiter was very officious and recommended I try a traditional dish of fried herring served with buttered mashed potatoes. The food in Sweden may not be overly spicy but it is flavorful…anything prepared with plenty of butter certainly tastes good.

We had crackers and bread with our meal, as was the case at Fem Sma Hus, too – big wheat/oat crackers that we all liked, along with those grainy breads. My meal was heavy but delicious. Joe went for the meatballs, Claire more fish and Ava lamb stew. For dessert we shared an amazing chocolate thing and carrot cake. This was the most interesting carrot cake I’ve ever seen – served with long slices of carrot on top, next to a dollop of cream cheese frosting. The cake itself looked like a piece of banana bread. Very tasty, just very odd composition. And given the garnish, healthier than your average carrot cake.

Finding the hotel afterward was naturally considerably simpler…

Easter Sunday found us sleeping in – why not? Joe and I took turns walking the city. I hit a path along one of the waterways – lovely way to start the day and enjoy some green space. We were told in the boat tour propaganda (love that word) about Stockholm that people here have some of the longest lives of anyone in the world – late 70’s for men, 82 or something for women. Maybe all the early morning exercisers I saw in action, all the fish and no crappy kids menus contribute?!? We certainly didn’t see many overweight types over the weekend, but one does get a rather limited glimpse of a culture and its peoples when one pops in for a weekend doing tourist stuff. (I do believe the statement someone made to me about Sweden being full of tall, blonde and beautiful people is a myth – or else the majority of them weren’t where we were in Stockholm during Easter weekend 2011…)

After another good hotel breakfast (pickles, it’s all about the pickles) we set off for Gamla Stan again. We checked out lots of narrow, windy medieval streets with lovely buildings, tourist shops, ice cream stores, cafes and an amazing chocolate shop. This one we felt compelled to support – the smell alone was divine. My dark chocolate was fabulously rich.

We also popped into the Cathedral of Stockholm, located between the Royal Palace and the Nobel Museum in the very heart of medieval Stockholm. It is called Storkyrkan or “the Great Church” and is the mother church of the Church of Sweden Diocese of Stockholm.

Stockholm’s medieval Cathedral, built in 1279, houses unique objects such as the St George and the Dragon sculpture (1489), the legendary Vädersoltavlan (1636) and Lena Lervik’s sculpture ”Joseph and Mary” (2002).

Since 1527, the Cathedral has been a Lutheran church. A wide range of religious services and concerts are held. The wedding of T.R.H. Crown Princess Victoria and Prince Daniel took place on Saturday, June 19, 2010 in Stockholm Cathedral.

From the cathedral we caught the changing of the guard – several military types in bright blue and white uniforms following an orderly cadence of gun sclasping amd marching after jogging out from somewhere in the castly. Lots of pomp and circumstance, yet we saw some of them interacting with the crowd. So a bit more relaxed, maybe, than the British guards we see around Buckingham Palace.

After the changing of the guard we meandered through some parts of the Royal Palace – the Treasury, the Royal Chapel and the Museum of Antiquities. The Treasury had a lovely three or four rooms of opulent swords, crowns and other highly valuable ornamentation sporting jewel upon jewel.

The Royal Chapel was also lovely, an intimate place of worship, with doors at end of each pew.

The Royal Chapel is used by the Royal Family for special ceremonies, and its congregation is comprised of employees/former employees of the Royal Court and their families. It’s also open to the public, and the Bishop is appointed by the King.
The Royal Chapel was inaugurated in 1754 together with the Royal Castle by King Adolf Fredrik and Queen Lovisa Ulrika.

It was designed by Nicodemus Tessin and Carl Hårleman in a mixture of Baroque and Rococo.

There was a Royal Chapel in the old Royal Castle Tre Konor from as early as 1284, since the Pope had given permision to have ceremonies in the Royal Castle. In the end of the 16th century King Johan III instituted another chapel in the Royal Castle, a Catholic one. He had married Katarina Jagellonica, daughter of Sigismund I of Poland. It was not allowed to be Catholic in Sweden at that time and the church was not well looked upon and was generally called the Papist Church.

We then checked out the antiquities, the bottom floor hosting several carriages used by Royalty throughout the ages. Upstairs were costumes, ornamentation and personal effects of various kings and queens, princesses and princes. And up yet another level were rooms for kids, with costumes to try on, a toy horse, throne, etc. Naturally we spent sme time there, then wandered through the more recent fashion exhibits.

Outside once more we were just in time to check out a parade of sorts, guards in their bright blue uniforms on gorgeously groomed horses. The group was soon joined by a very smart regiment on foot, which auspiciously marched around the castle and into a…brightly painted bus. Sort of an inauspicious ending to their very royal march.

At this point we were museumed out and ready for food, drink and chairs so we meandered down to the busy pedestrian streets of Gamla Stan. We found a lovely little microbrewery with an inviting table at the open wondow overlooking the street.
There we perched on high-backed stools and shared a very good game burger, fries, coleslaw and cheese/salami platter. With excellent bread, of course…and good beer.

Eventually we headed off in search of the Dance Museum, spent an hour there, then needed ice cream. That we found easily enough at the busiest, most chaotic shop in Gamla Stan. But it had lots of flavors and cone options – mine was Irish cream dark chocolate with chocolate waffle cone. Two thumbs up.

The beer and ice cream led to an overwhelming need for a nap so we took a quick hotel break, then got ready for Mass at Sankta Eugenia, a very modern, sleekly designed church with a non-descript façade (the only overt marker was a gold cross out front).

A full house, we landed seats by the piano and joined Stockholm’s English speaking Catholics for Easter service. The priest asked everyone to close their missals before sprinkling holy water to ensure they didn’t get ruined, leaving us to expect quite a shower. Oddly there was no word of warning about the candle flames and paperwork in hand…

After Mass we meandered to another part of Gamla Stan where tattoo parlors reined. Amidst them we found our quite unique eating establishment for the evening: Sjatte Tunnan.

Established in the 1400’s, the place “attempts to recreate the atmosphere of a banquet from the middle ages; everything from food, drink and entertainment to the clothes worn in that period. As far as possible, the chefs follow historical recipes and ingredients. Sjatte Tunnan serves its own mead, a wide range of beers and buys wine from the same ports used in the 1400s.”

It was another cellar restaurant, this one definitely less fancy – no maitre’d (in fact we were hard pressed to find a waiter). The candle wax build up looked like it had indeed started in the 1400’s. With a cavelike shape, the acoustics were horrific, particularly due to the volume of two large parties near our table.

Despite all that or maybe because of it we were compelled to stay. While I went in search of the loo, Joe and the kids sat themselves at a table and eventually we hailed our waiter down. A very busy guy, he was efficient and we soon had some good brown bread, beer served in old-fashioned pottery mugs and sodas for the kids.

Ava opted for chicken wings, I went with the wild boar, served with blueberry sauce and a strudel side. Frankly it all exceeded my expectations. Claire went once again for the fish – Swedish menus appeal to her – food simply done, accompanied by potatoes. And Joe had lamb, quite appropriate for the holiday.

We opted for chocolate back at the hotel to finish our meal, as it was past 10 by the time we wandered back along the water to the fine Diplomat hotel.

Monday – I got the day going w/ some exercise around Stockholm, then we enjoyed a leisurely breakfast and a last walk around Gamla Stan, scoring a souvenir for Claire. And then it was off to the airport! Boy was Heathrow customs a zoo…

Easter in Sweden!

2011-04-27T08:38:00.001-07:00

March!!!

2011-03-08T08:33:00.000-08:00

It may be March but I’m still thinking about February 23.

Important day: I had the best burger my taste buds have experienced in MONTHS. Well, it was also the only burger I’ve had in months, unless you count lamb or buffalo. Which are quite tasty but don’t really qualify, for a red white and blue American, the way a 100 % beef burger (and not the McDonald’s venue) does.

Where, might you ask, did I find this? Some fabulous burger joint called “Brady’s” (in London). This place churns out the real deal with superb red meat, a nice size patty – not too thick, not too thin, not shriveled up on the bun. And perfectly medium rare. The kind of pink in the middle that allows the burger to still be juicy. Nothing worse than ordering a burger, waiting amidst wafting smells of sweet onions sautéing happily in butter, only to receive a brown hockey puck.

This burger also comes with the right-size bun, not that huge overwhelming tasteless thing, just a fresh, soft accompaniment that allows the beef – really good beef, reportedly from Scotland – to shine.

Add to that a generous portion of excellent blue cheese, melted just so, some greens but not too many, a thinly sliced red, non-woody tomato, and I was beyond ready to dive in. After slathering on some ketchup and good English mustard – the kind with the horseradish of course – I did just that.

It lived up to all my anticipation.

But that’s not all. Accompanied by a thick oreo milkshake, I was thinking I was back in a good U.S. diner, like that one in Kansas City – the name escapes me – but the burgers and shakes I’ll never forget.

Now it’s a little dicey, I think, to order a milkshake here because they often seem to hold true to their name: milky. With a little ice cream thrown in. I much prefer the opposite, particularly since the last item on my wishlist is anything that tastes like milk.

So yes, Brady’s delivered on the shake, too.

While I consumed all of this bun, cheese, burger, shake business, my better half had the healthier option – burger sans cheese, half the bun and a side of greens. Though he did go for the shake…

Suffice it to say I did not regret a single kilo calorie.

This wonderful repast followed a trip to the Museum of London, which is well worth a visit. Bonus: it’s free.

Then a nap. Great way to spend a Sunday.

In other news…January’s high points included:

- The Snowman. Apparently this is one of those yearly Must-sees for many British families. Based on a book, the show is done to music with no words. Thankfully we have the book and CD so we had a good understanding of the story going in. Lovely performance, west end caliber naturally, 20 minutes too long.

- Visit to Jane the hygienist. Kids tell her EVERYTHING. Hillarious. Reason for not using automatic toothbrush? Mom hasn’t changed the batteries. Do we drink juice for breakfast? Yes. Followed by Jane’s lecture about sugar, holes in teeth…etc. Aiy yai yai.

- Visit to the Natural Science Museum’s Atmospheric exhibit – which was very cool. And a little imax action too, this one from the cockpit of British air forces. Also very cool.

- Wordsworth poetry classes with Alice. I like Wordsworth better this time around. So much literature is better digested later in life; seems unfair to make us all go through it when we 1) can’t understand it properly, let along appreciate it and 2) would be better served reading the Catcher and the Rye and all its friends. (Said Catcher book didn't have the same panache when I read it a few years ago. Clearly too old for it.)

- A fun two-person act at the Tricycle Theatre (local venue; the show had received good reviews) that Joe and I checked out, with dinner at a charming little gastropub conveniently located across the street.

- Claire and I joined some other ASL moms and kids for a bust of an outing on the Golden Hynde. Rarely do I have uncomplimentary things to say about educational outings, but this one got on my nerves. About the ship:

The Golden Hinde, London's replica of Sir Francis Drakes warship offering visitors an unforgettable Living History Experience. The Golden Hinde is a full-sized reconstruction of the Tudor warship in which Sir Francis Drake circumnavigated the globe in 1577 – 1580.

Now it wasn’t the ship that was annoying; it was the entire outing starting w/ the bosomy Marge in charge type who shepherded our group from start to finish. She barked out orders to don costumes (just dirty smocks and hats). Claire took one look and flatly told me she wasn’t dressing up. I said that was fine. Some battles…why bother with them?

Unfortunately Marge (aka George -- women on board were bad luck, hence the masculine identity) overheard her and tartly informed both of us that dressing up is part of the experience. While her tone left something to be desired, I did tell Claire that it might behoove her to throw the smock on over her clothes. That met w/ steely-eyed resistance, so I said I would dress up, which did a little to appease George. But not much.

Then onto the musty ship, where we had to hunker, bent over, and listen to a very loud, fat man wander around the ship bumping into things. He was apparently the drunken sailor.

This already had Excedrin written all over it. Then the barber surgeon started his gig, which was a very rich description of how he amputated.

At that point I felt ill from head to stomach. Meanwhile Claire was part of a group being yelled at to row harder or some such thing. She expressed her dislike of the experience to my neighbor so when we caught up w/ each other she was buried in games on Melissa’s i-phone.

We made a beeline out of there an hour and a half early, attempting to do so covertly – only to find the drunken sailor right behind us on the gangplank. Oops.

Then on to John Lewis’ dining room because…well, why not? It was warm, offered plenty of good food choices and had no drunkenly behavior or gruesome descriptions of life at sea back in the 1700’s. And I could stand up straight.

Incidentally, practically no one returned on these voyages, and if you did, you came back w/ a humped back from standing stooped over for years on end. And it was bad luck to bathe so gee, wouldn’t the olfactory experience be pleasurable…

- “A flea in Her Ear” was also on my theatre list in January – this one w/ the ladies (St. John’s Wood Women’s Club). Light-hearted, quick language, a bit of a spoof 18th century style. We all enjoyed it, I think it’s safe to say.

- Also in recent weeks I hit a book group meeting – discussion of The Female Brain (which frankly sounds dull but is quite a good elliptical read). Our discussion was just ok but the Mexican food that went with it, courtesy of Szerina, was superb.

- Joe and I enjoyed “The Rivals” with our neighbors following good Indian fare at The Mint Leaf. (Though the first 10 minutes had me worried; I was convinced I was going to snooze. Rather, once I got into the language, it was very smart, very light-hearted, and as always on the West End, very well done.)

- Not to be left out, we also went to “George’s Marvelous Medicine.” We’ve, as a family, all gotten into Raold Dahl more heavily than we might have were we still in North Carolina (having visited the Raold Dahl museum, read most of his books, including his non-autobiography autobiography and watched/re-watched some of his films).

Ava was lined up to go w/ her class to see George before we jerked her out of Abercorn and plopped her into ASL. So I felt it only fair to line up tickets to the show, which was great fun, I must say. That Raold Dahl did have quite the sense of humor. Probably wouldn’t fly in today’s politically correct world (who can get away with writing about creating medicine from shampoo, hair spray, paint, flea medicine and the like to improve Grandma’s demeanor…). And then to have her shrink to nothingness and end the story there. Hmmm…

- In late January I linked up with the SJWWC for a walk around the Victoria and Albert. This is a museum that has something like 2 ½ miles of exhibits…we focused on 12-14 varying in size, medium and timeframe, had a great guide who was witty, well spoken and well read and good w/ a big, unwieldy group.

So there you have it. My attempt to capture what we did in the earliest part of 2011. We'll soon embark on spring break: adventures that will involve cold weather and family catch up in the west and midwestern parts of the USA! Bring on the red meat...

Cruisin’!

2011-01-30T10:21:00.000-08:00

24 December…

After a week of paralyzed airports, Eurostar issues, UK train disruptions, road havoc (all due to our 3 ½ inches of snow) we made it out of the country!

It seems like a measly amount of snow to have locked everything up (well it is a measly amount) but given London hasn’t had to deal w/ real winter conditions much if at all, there simply isn’t the support to respond.

I heard plenty of poo-pooing from those who deal w/ that ugly Northeastern US weather…and all I have to say is go to Texas and see what happens when it snows. Tax money just doesn’t get pumped into snow plows for the onesy twosy snowstorms. Maybe a/c instead?

While I’m the first to cut England slack on facing up to winter weather, I must say Heathrow in particular needs to get its act together. One of the world’s largest airports has got to get itself access to some de-icing equipment and a few plows, even if they just rent the stuff once or twice a year.

And for heavens sake why don’t they have a crisis plan that includes communication so people aren’t trapped in (or locked out) of the terminals as flights upon flights are cancelled? Not to mention the fact that some air carriers just stopped answering the deluge of calls as panicked passengers sought options for their holiday travels.
I assume, since 9/11, that a crisis plan exists for a terrorism hit; maybe they could adopt some of the strategies for weather-related standstills? (or maybe they learned nothing from the earlier ash crisis…who am I to say, I supposed; I’m pretty far removed from airport management). Common sense would say…

But I as usual digress! We had the good luck to get to a quiet Heathrow, our terminal just waking up. We had plenty of time to get through the process, have breakfast and board our bus to the plane. Always kills me when you have a 15 minute ride across the airplane parking lot to hike up into the jet. Seems more fitting for those Salt Lake flights, where a handful of people bend down to squeeze in and if the plane isn’t full, you’re asked to disperse throughout for weight efficiency.

We parted London on time, smooth sailing er flying to Barcelona. God must have known my desperation to get out of the gray and enjoy a change of scenery after three of us suffered from swine flu, three weeks of lingering effects and trying to fit in all the Christmas busy-ness while feeling more like going back to bed.

Our luggage found us in sunny, crisp Spain, where we met up with a growing group of fellow cruisers – young, old, families, signles, whatever. We were shephered to buses and off to the port shortly thereafter for a painless check in and we were on board in early afternoon!

Our first order of business: lunch. This meal was at the Grand Pacific Dining Room, where we sat by the windows and gazed out at sparkling water. Ahhh the sun.
And then it was off to explore the ship, check out our cabins and get settled. We had adjoining rooms – twins for the kids, a king for us, windows in both. Ahh that all important door in between. No complaints!

A bit later we joined a tour around the ship to get the lay of the land, then had a tour of the spa (priorities, people, priorities). We each got a small demo of various massage techniques. I’ve no doubt spa appointments for my kids are in their future as both love having their backs massaged. Must be genetic.

We also perused the restaurant optioins and elected for a Spanish dinner meal; the lobster tacos spoke to us. And they were indeed fabuous; as we pulled away from harbor en route to Casa Blanca we toasted our first day on the Norweigian Jade.
Post-mealtime we hit a Christmas show – lots of holiday singing and dancing. Enjoyed by all and it put us in the Christmas Eve frame of mind!

I ended the day in the fitness center – I know I know – on vacation? Frankly, though, if you can’t find time to exercise while on holiday, then hang it up entirely (my philosophies…take em or leave em).

Christmas Day at sea

We started a very relaxing day with breakfast at the Garden Café, a very casual, very big buffet. It doesn’t take long to discern that it’s all about the food on board. Kids love all the options buffets offer so it makes breakfast easy.

Afterward we attended a non-denominational Christmas service in the ship’s auditorium, which featured Christmas music with lounge piano player on keyboard and Catholic priest. In that order. Optional communion service at the end.
Apparently this – I’m referring to optional communion – wasn’t enough for one of the passengers. She was heard complaining more than once about it not being Catholic enough. Nevermind that nowhere in the literature did it mention a Catholic Mass.

Frankly I don’t have much patience for the whining. She’s the one who chose to be away from her home Parish on a big boat with a very diverse group of people who – shock of all shocks – may not be on the Catholic bandwagon. (I was quite surprised to see a Catholic priest, let alone have the option of a communion service; we were more than fine with the interdenominational effort. Scale expectations, people…
Anyway, some of us thought the service was nice, with appropriate messaging for the holidays.)

Then we were off to laze around the ship and for lunch we hit the Garden Café, spending the afternoon playing games, working out, decorating Christmas cookies. This event, designed for kids, was besieged by adults and pimply faced 18 year old boys. Anything for a cookie, I guess. The kids had fun with frosting and candies.

After the sugar fest we joined in a caroling session around the piano with cruise director Gary, who really was everywhere at once on the Norwegian Jade. He led a rousing rendition of Deck the Halls, Rudolph, Jingle Bells, all the festive faves.

For Christmas dinner we dined at the Alazar as the menu featured traditional Christmas favorites – turkey and all the trimmings, ham and such. Even Claire skipped the kids meal for the turkey and mashed potatoes. Actually, she ventured into foreign territory in the food department several times on this trip. Food beyond carbs; who knew?

December 26 – Claire’s 9th birthday

I don’t remember much about my 9th birthday but it certainly wasn’t spent on a cruise ship. And someone I talked w/ recently actually had the gall to say “wouldn’t your kids rather be home than cramped up on a ship over the holidays?”

Considering the opportunities for Christmas on the high seas are limited for us, that their friends and family aren’t hanging around London for big festive dinners and that our options for sharing holidays with family in the U.S. involve impersonal hotels, well I’d venture to say THEY’RE ALL OVER THE CRUISE!

Claire’s day started with breakfast, then onto join the masses in the Stardust Theatre to group up for our Casa Blanca excursion – city highlights. It was a cattle call with a big bunch of tourists all grouping up for their respective buses. Off to 32 we eventually went – first stop Hassan II Mosque, the third largest in the world.

It did go on forever, this Mosque – with its gorgeous, hand-crafted décor – carved wood, hand painted tiling, plaster, etc. We saw main and lower levels, Turkish and Moroccan style baths, male and female prayer areas. And the area around it is a lovely seaside setting. More on the Mosque:

The great Hassan II Mosque was commissioned by its namesake, King Hassan II, in part to provide Casablanca with a single landmark monument. On his birthday, July 9, 1980, the king declared:

I wish Casablanca to be endowed with a large, fine building of which it can be proud until the end of time... I want to build this mosque on the water, because God's throne is on the water. Therefore, the faithful who go there to pray, to praise the creator on firm soil, can contemplate God's sky and ocean.

Designed by French architect Michel Pinseau, construction of the Hassan II Mosque began in July 1986 on land reclaimed (without compensation to the former residents) from a run-down area near the sea. The goal for completion of the mosque was King Hassan II's 60th birthday in 1989, but it ended up not being finished until August 30, 1993.

The project is estimated to have cost as much as $800 million, funds that were remarkably raised entirely from public subscription. International reports have suggested both local resentment and less-than-voluntary donations to the project, but Moroccans seem to be genuinely proud of their monument. The massive fundraising also had a positive side-effect: it temporarily reduced Morocco's money supply and brought down inflation.

Nearly all the materials of the Hassan II Mosque are from Morocco, with the sole exceptions of the imported white granite columns and glass chandeliers (from Murano, near Venice). The marble is from Agandir, the cedar wood is from the Middle Atlas and the granite comes from Tafraoute.

Over 6,000 Moroccan master craftsmen and artisans were employed to work these local materials into the intricate decorations that embellish the entire structure. When construction passed its deadline in the early 1990s, 1,400 men worked by day and 1,000 worked by night to bring the vast project to completion.

The most distinctive characteristic of the Hassan II Mosque is its spectacular location on a platform over the Atlantic Ocean. Uniquely, part of the mosque's floor is made of glass so worshippers can kneel directly over the sea.

Above, an automated sliding roof opens (on special occasions) to the heavens.
At 689 feet, the Great Mosque's minaret is the tallest structure in Morocco and the tallest minaret in the world. At night, lasers shine a beam from the top of the minaret toward Mecca, "to point the way to God." The building was designed to withstand earthquakes and has a heated floor and electric doors.

The style of the Hassan II Mosque displays strong Moorish influences, bringing to mind the Alhambra and Mezquita in Spain. Horseshoe arches prevail both outside and in, and the walls and columns of the interior are delicately carved in a variety of intricate patterns.

There is a huge women's gallery on the right as you face the prayer area, which is beautifully carved of dark wood. The prayer area in the back is spacious and carpeted in red. Downstairs are Turkish-style baths and fountains for washing.

Then off to see more of Casa Blanca, which seemed rather large and industrial, not terribly clean or quaint. So stick with the movie for your romantic Casa Blanca experience. The old town dates to the 1900’s so not the depth of history other Moroccan cities have.

That said, we did get to see some lovely homes, the king’s palace (well really the king’s well-secured palace gates and similarly well-secured big yard). And we walked through the oldest quarter of the city, with its traditional Moroccan architecture, stopping at a market with plenty of fish, much to Claire’s dismay. Any potential meat or fish smell sends her over the edge.

Casa Blanca reminded us of India, though with fewer women out and about and garb less colorful. According to our guide, there is greater religious freedom in Morocco than in other parts of the world, with Jewish, Christian and Islamic people living harmoniously for centuries.

In fact, Morocco is proud to have been such a staunch protector of its Jewish population during the 2nd World War. The guide noted this and said the Jewish population continues to be a very vibrant, visible part of society and political expression in Morocco.

Islamic dress is a choice in the country as opposed to a government requirement, we were told. And for those of you on the edge of your seat, Morocco’s main source of economy is agriculture.

After the market we stopped at a bazaar selling handicrafts. Again, reminiscent of India – less pressure to buy, though, with an entire busload of people rather than just the kids and me being watched, assisted, etc. by the 5+ clerks manning the shop. Let’s not forget the tea and soft drinks offered, along with the weaving demonstrations and the dozens of perfectly folded, plastic wrapped quilts laid out around the room. I always shuddered as I walked away empty handed – or nearly so – as I thought about how much work it was to painstakingly refold and return to those small plastic sleeves for the next demo, likely for what’s assumed to be a wealthy tourist empowered with credit card and desire for over-priced Indian goods likely made by women and young adults (read children) who receive little if any of the monies exchanged.

Worse, I suppose, is us walking away empty handed as I did numerous times, taking the pennies these families subsist upon with me.

In my defense, not all traveling foreigners are rich, not all of us allow ourselves to be taken advantage of with (often) severely inflated prices and frankly, I can’t solve the third world’s problems with one – or even several – rugs that look great in India but in practice in North Carolina, one can only handle so many elephants.

Yeah well anyway in Casa Blanca we got away without big tapestry demos and happily re-boarded the ship for a late lunch at the crazed Garden Café. Everyone else had returned from their excursion with an appetite, too, apparently.

In the afternoon we played Clue, our new favorite family game for everyone except Ava, who’s not quite old enough to appreciate it.

Claire’s dinner choice for the day was Spanish so we again enjoyed good salsa and those fabulous lobster tacos, among other things. The birthday desserts abounded: a small cake, flan, a chocolate cake and some other Spanish specialty. The wait staff sang to Claire and brought out fake candles (flames and ships: not a good mix).

December 27

Agadir. I started the day out circling the deck – the ship has a jogging track up near the top and a walking path on 7. Breezy but nice, I liked the one up top – great views and not much activity early in the day.

Today we opted for breakfast at the Grand Pacific, with its quiet ambience and lovely views. Fresh omelettes, pancakes, etc. Ava’s discovered cream as her new favorite pancake topping.

We grouped up again in the theatre for our outing to agadir. As it was last to leave, much less chaotic than the previous day, we were soon en route and our first stop: the Kasbah– lovely old sand-castle like ruins overlooking Agadir. A series of narrow switchbacks were navigated by our trusty bus driver – glad he was driving and not me.

Agadir is a sprawling, coastal community circled by hills and mountains. With its sparkling water and bright blue sky, on our sunny day it was spectacular.

Some poor camels were waiting with their phsy owners/handlers at the top. Tourists could traverse the parking lot atop the straggly beasts. Claire was picked up and perched on a camel, which didn’t do much for her or us so we opted out from this cheesy photo opp. Ah the romance of riding a worn-out, cranky, smelly camel on asphalt, swaying uncomfortably past tour buses flanked by drivers smoking imitation Pall Malls while cameras clicked and scavengers tried to sell cheap watches and wallets…

We did walk up and around the fortress, which had gaping holes opening into steep drops – no signs of warning or fences. You’re on your own in Agadir, I guess.
Back on the bus we headed to the other side of the city for our Fantasia horse race/camel experience.

Third world entertainment (a far cry from Broadway, to put it mildly). We pulled up to our outdoor green space with trash in the corners of the lawn. Entertainers dressed in various costumes welcomed us into the park area, where chairs were set off to the right, facing a stage covered with dirty carpets. Behind were five men in traditional Moroccan or Berber costumers (I guess) mounted on horseback.

A few minutes later, as the audience sipped tea (we passed -- old habit from India: skepticism on hygiene) out of small glasses, some dancers took the stage. They were older, the lead guy missing a number of critical teeth. Those in place looked pretty abused. They did some swaying and hip wiggling on stage, pulled people from the audience up participate (always good to dodge that bullet), then segued to the horsemen doing a mad dash down the pasture and shooting their guns in the air at the end.

(How is it that when guns are shot in Agadir it’s harmless but when it happens in the US it’s blood, death and media?) Ugh

What the Agadir horse/gun men lacked in coordinated effort they made up for in sound effect.

Next on stage was a young, more appealing belly dancer in a bright blue costume. She gyrated for quite some time – maybe 10 minutes too long – then some really wily gymnasts in hot pink took the stage. They were fun to watch as they did flips and towers and all kinds of physically challenging maneuvers with each other.

The last stage act was a group of male dancers/musicians with wigs and bright red costumes. Their wigs were memorable; otherwise, nothing to report.

After our fine friends the horseman ran through a final time, with one poor guy toppling off, our show was complete. (BTW this horse race business was supposed to be a symbol of manhood, courage and hospitality – so what does that say about the poor guy who fell off?)

Back on the bus, we were off to another part of Agadir for a presentation at an herbal pharmacy. There our busload clamored into a room with a couple benches and we listened to a guy give us a spiel on how various herbal meds work on ailments from herpes to excema, snoring to circulation issues.

Someone volunteered for a 5 minute massage with the special Agadir massage oil and sales person’s assistant. He had to remove his shirt – maybe it was a good thing I restrained my impulse to volunteer?

The sales guy had all kinds of teas, cooking oil, etc. but I think he didn’t sell as much as he’d hoped. I’m not sure how many people wanted to raise a hand for the herbal version of Viagra or for weight-loss tea in front of a bus-sharing crowd.

I did have to laugh at the wide range of ailments some of his products covered. Miracle cures of the desert.

We also made a stop at a shop, of course – some beautiful furniture.

Despite my sarcastic commentary, we found Agadir to be charming, and a lovely coastal city.

Back on board, we had a bite at the grill by the pool, then the kids and Joe swam a bit; I supervised. Take me back to Texas and those really hot temps and warm pools, then I’m all about the pool. Otherwise, x-nay on the pool-a.

Later we hit the Spinnaker lounge for family bingo. No big (or small!) winnings for Webers, but we had fun. At 6:00 we headed off to Tapinyaki for dinner. It’s one of those Japanese restaurants where the chefs cook in front of you. The place only has 16 seats with sittings of eight staggered. So an intimate experience. What our chef lacked in expertise (he did some egg juggling, tossed one in his hat, etc. but also dropped a couple and broke them on the grill) he made up for in crowd interaction and humor.

Both Joe and I tried to play egg basketball by catching a piece of cooked egg in our mouth but I missed, he scored.

A’s meal was chicken and noodles, I had lobster and squid, Claire and Joe had steak. And we all enjoyed delicious fried rice. Our meal wrapped up with fruit and green tea ice cream. Not my favorite.

We ended the evening with a ship show – the magicians and a couple of amazing acrobats/dancers. I’m selling them short in this blog entry because I’m tired and can’t cough up specific awe-inspiring tricks and acts, but suffice it to say our attention was captivated, I still am amazed at the strength and dexterity of those two acrobatically inclined dancers can do. A husband/wife team, they even had their son appear in one act. As for the magicians, it's a mystery to me how they did what they appeared to have done but didn't really do.

December 28

The beach!!! Today we joined the masses for a late breakfast, then I had a fabulous massage after a great workout. FABULOUS. The massage, mind.

Then we got ready for a non-excursion day at the beach in Las Palmos.

Bonus: a sunny, warm day had dawned.

After an easy walk to the beach, we holed up and spent a couple hours alternately reading, sun bathing and looking for shells. Eventually we got hungry and sought a seaside table in vain but opted for the best-looking pizzeria on the strip. (There were plenty of pizza options – apparently when on vacation on an island in Spain pizza appeals.)

Ours had a great table indoors overlooking the beach so we settled in for a slow, relaxed meal of excellent pizza and pasta.

From there we stopped at a gelateria. You know those ferrera rocher chocolates that are so good? Well the gelato they make with them is even better.

Back toward the ship, we wandered through a mall – aren’t they all the same – then settled in for a bit before drinks and the evening show, this time a Spanish flamenco ballet. Defiinitely the best costumes and most changes. Gorgeous dresses.

Afterward – dinner – with lines in the dining rooms we grabbed a drink and played cards in the Atrium, a great place to hang out as someone was usually working the piano or strumming a guitar. Eventually the Old Grand Pacific buzzed us for dinner and I continued the Italian theme of the day…tortellini.

December 29

Today was our Funchal day, though not until afternoon so we slept in, had a lazy morning on board the ship and disembarked at 1:30 for our excursion, which was a particularly good one, with a superb guide.

Our agenda for the day: a bus ride inland, passing through Sao Martinho to the Socorridos ravine. "Eira do Serrado is reached after a short drive along a winding road, offering spectacular views of the interior of the island. Here, it is a short and easy walk up to the viewpoint on Pico de Serrado at an altitude of approximately 3,592 feet (1,094 meters), for an amazing view down onto the village of Curral das Freiras. Curral das Freiras (Nuns Valley) is a small village nestling between almost perpendicular mountains in the heart of the island. In 1566, the nuns from the Santa Clara convent fled from pirates attacking Funchal and found seclusion here where they also brought the convent's treasure."

The views were amazing. Waterfalls, canyons, hills/mountains, the sea, incredible greenery with flowers sprinkled throughout, fog drifting over a nearby peak…
Incredibly piterusque and quite a contrast, weatherwise, to when we boarded the bus – warm, sunny air down below, downright chilly and very windy at the viewpoint.

Incidentaly, Funchal’s history goes back over five centuries when early Portuguese settlers colonised the coast of a bright and sunny bay where fennel (funcho) grew in abundance, giving its name to the new town of Funchal.

From our windy viewpoint (and the mega tourist trap store at the bottom of the trail) we headed to Monte, a small village, perched up in the hills overlooking Funchal. It was formerly a health resort for Europe's high society, including Austrian Emperor Charles I.

Upon leaving the bus we climbed up to Monte Church, which overlooks the city and dates from 1818. It stands on the spot where an original chapel was built by the first two children to be born on Madeira island.

This is also the location of the tomb of Charles I, Karl von Habsburg-Lothringen, the last Emperor of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.

From the steps up to the church we could see the famous Monte Tobaggans...

Originally a fast means of transport down to Funchal for people living in Monte, Monte’s infamous toboggan sledges appeared around 1850.

Still in use today, they attract thousands of tourists every year who want to make this exciting experience of sliding at high speed on narrow, winding streets down to Funchal. These two-seater wicker sledges glide on wooden runners, pushed and steered by two men traditionally dressed in white cotton clothes and a straw hat, using their rubber-soled boots as brakes.

The downhill journey to Funchal is made in about 10 minutes on a total course of 2 km, reaching at times a speed of 48 km/hour. Adventurous, yet safe, an ‘old-fashioned’ toboggan ride to make your way down from Monte is the perfect contrast to the high-technology cable car going up to Monte.

As exciting as the toboggan rides looked, we passed as age limits precluded Ava’s participation.

After again meeting up w/ our group we wandered to the gondola for a beautiful lift down the hillside, which used to sport a rack railway connecting Monte and Funchal.

At the bottom we were whisked off to a final stop for Madeira (appropriate, no?) tasting in a charming little tasting room with wooden barrels for tables, stools for perching whilst drinking.

We tried two types – a medium dry and edium sweet, leaving with a small bottle of the medium dry. Should be tasty over ice cream…

Back at ship!

For dinner we opted to eat at Papa’s – good Italian food in a casual setting. Thing big wooden tables, great ocean views. My pork saltimbocca – their specialty –was excellent. We scooted early so we could hit the evening show, this time a showdown with the audience determining the winner. Great fun! Afterward we returned to our Italian restaurant for dessert.

December 30

At sea! Somehow the time flies when there isn’t a major agenda. Now how is that? Games, books, workout room, hanging by the pool…

At some point we rotated from one end of the ship to the other to continue enjoying the sunshine and a Beer Fest. On tap: German beer and food, along with live music.

We also stopped in to hear Cruise Director Gary’s presentation about his career in show biz. A Scotsman, he is a classicly trained pianist who, through haphazard meetings with stars in Paris, ended up working in Vegas, then the Lido in Paris, which then led to acts on various cruises. And at sea he was asked to fill in for a fired cruise director (the guy was found sauced under the piano) and since then has worked in the cruise business, on and off the sea, for several years.

In his spare time he’s dedicated to animal rescue and has a place in Italy set up to care for stray dogs, cats, a few donkeys, some ducks, etc. We all enjoyed his talk and of course bought his book, Stars, Staterooms & Stowaways, a collection of anecdotes about his life and career.

For dinner we ate at Le Bistro, a fancy French restaurant. I particularly liked this one, with its perfect mushroom soup. As Claire says, the restaurant has a lovely atmosphere and we all left very satisfied.

Our entertainment for the evening was “Broadway in the Atrium,” a set of “star-studded songs from musical theatre’s rich history and from today’s stages.” One of our favorite gathering spots on the ship, it was a lovely way to end the day, listening to beautiful voices belt out familiar tunes.

31 December
New Year’s Eve!

And how did you spend the last day of 2010? We zipped down for breakfast, fought for (and found!) a table (so far this week we’ve been with the majority on the timing of our hunger pangs, thus tracking down a place to sit takes a little longer).

Then we were off to check out a bit of Malaga, starting with a bus ride through the city and along the coast and on to the magnificent Nerja Caves – Cuevas de Nerja – a series of huge caverns stretching for almost five kilometres and home to the world’s largest stalagmite, a 32 metre high column measuring 13 metres by 7 metres at its base.

There are three Galleries – Show Gallery, Upper Gallery and New Gallery – with each gallery containing a number of Halls.

The Upper Gallery and New Gallery contain many of the prehistoric cave paintings, but tourist access to these areas is limited to special groups (and while we’re special people, we weren’t part of this group tour).

Finding the cave…

On January 12th 1959, five local lads from the village of Maro decided to go hunting for bats and headed for a pothole known locally as ‘La Mina’ where they saw a number of bats exiting through the hole in the rocks.

The boys returned the next day with tools to dislodge a couple of stalagtites in the entrance. Once inside, they found themselves able to descend to a huge cavern where they discovered a number of skeletons next to some ceramic pottery.
Excited by their find, they went back to tell their family, friends and teachers but it wasn’t until the cave was visited by a medical expert and a photographer that the true extent of their discovery became apparent.
The first photographs of the caves were published in the Málaga newspaper ‘Sur’ about 100 days after their discovery and after first being called ‘Cueva de las Maravillas’, they then became ‘Cueva de Nerja’.
The Nerja Caves were officially inaugurated on June 12th 1960 and opened to the public.

Definitely worth experiencing, we were taken aback by the size and beauty of the stalagtites and stalagmites. (We saw the largest stalagmites columns in the world, 161 feet high and 59 feet in diameter!) As big as church pillars and with similarities to Gothic architecture. And in fact, the brochures about the caves noted their “capricious rocky formations can be compared to Modernist cathedrals, and their eight rooms include the Room of the Cataclysm, as well as the Room of the Cascade.”

We oohed and aahed with the rest of our group, discerning different images in the cracks, crevices, walls…

Today, the public at large can visit about a third of the cave, while scientists and academics can arrange to study deeper aspects of it. The cavernous areas are so
large concerts and festivals are held inside.

After visiting the caves we went to the city center of Nerja, which is part of what’s known as the Balcony of Europe and dates from 1487. The city sports a 9th century castle above the sea. We checked out the city’s 17th century Savior Church, constructed in Baroque-Mudejar style and the 16th century Our Lady of Sorrows Hermitage with its paintings by the master Alonso Cano. The old quarter of town sports charming cafes and small shops with local handicrafts and local products such as sweet wine, olive oil, honey and tropical fruits.

Back on the bus we enjoyed views of the subtropical coast, where sugar cane, avocado and custard trees grow in abundance.

And then to the ship!

Our dinner plan for New Year’s Eve was the steakhouse, Cagney’s. And it was wickedly good! Wonderful steak, best views of any of the restaurants late in the evening, as the light sparkled off the water.

The show of the evening was called “Elements,” which included magic and a “visual feast of flying,” music and dance, “reveling in the four elements – Earth, Air, Water and Fire.” Another great performance.

We’ve decided we like this one-hour nightly show; each has been different, entertaining for all of us and not too lengthy.

Naturally we moved on to the New Year’s Eve party, opting for some time in the Spinnaker Lounge, where a live band played. And we later rotated to the Atrium, where a pianist got us all in the New Year’s mood. The place was soon packed and we all sang/danced and of course kissed as the new year countdown took place. The kids ate it all up though Claire was ready to exit about 10 minutes after the big event.
Ava, meanwhile, was just getting juiced up for the party. Hmmm this could be a glimpse of things to come?

January 1

2011!!! Fitting, I think, to have a day at sea on Jan 1.

Our day was spent with a little of this and that – a towel-folding demo, for starts.

Each day our stewards left our room sparkling and decorated with animals folded from towels. My favorite was the monkey hanging from our ceiling. They made gorillas, dogs, bears, you name it. Very creative.

So the ship had a little demo on how to create these creatures at home. You could even purchase a DVD (that was deemed less than necessary for us). Let me warn you now if you opt to visit: you won’t find any cute towel creatures to welcome you. I do well to get them into a square, thankyouverymuch!

For lunch we ate on the deck, BBQ ribs and burgers from the grill. Delish!
In the afternoon the kids and Joe checked out the “name that tune” contest with Gary, the cruise director who seemed to be everywhere on this ship. I spent that time sweating.

And as our last evening meal rolled around, we opted for Asian: the Jasmine Garden, which I thought was very good.

With that final meal we’d tried nearly every dining option -- sans sushi -- on board and found it all quite appealing. And in fact, too much of a good thing!

Overall cruise musings…we had a great first long cruise – nice mix of down time and activity, plus it was all choreographed so easy to just go along and enjoy. We met several people who are regular cruisers, even taking back to back boats (which I wouldn’t do…too much of a good thing, plus I’m thinking on day 11 I’d get itchy feet).

We are of the opinion that we’ll cruise again, but in the interim there are many other ways to explore/vacation that we’ll enjoy. Some of that has to do with our age and activity level (I am, after all, the woman who drags us to the top of the dome, tower, bridge, etc.) as we explore various spots.

It was very nice not to move hotels and the service was fabulous. It goes without saying the food was over the top, as were the facilities in general.

I also think that for multi-generational vacations, reunions, etc. a cruise is ideal – something for everyone, easy access for all, the opportunity for everyone to go their own way and re-convene to share experiences.

For families, the kids club, cookie and cupcake decorating, trivia contests, family bingo, excursions, polls, game rooms, etc. it’s clearly a great venue from toddle to teen.

Bonus: motion sickness wasn’t much of an issue – that one rocky morning didn’t send anyone into the fetal position.

Our trip home involved plenty of waiting after a final breakfast in the significantly less crowded Garden Café. With cards, books and newspapers in hand we made our way uneventfully back to Alma Square.

And after Christmas crackers (which I think are a GREAT Christmas tradition) and a light meal (boy was it great to not eat rich restaurant food) we delved into what was under the tree. Santa had indeed visited!

Catching up in the New Year

2011-01-03T12:26:00.000-08:00

Back to the carols in December...

Ok so the Trafalgar tree didn’t look any worse for the wear, and caroling was ok but it was raining so a bit of a damper, literally. Still, they had a good crowd of die-hards.

Among other things as 2010 wound down:

Claire participated in a Christmas concert at the American Church. Third and fourth grade students, along with junior high, high school and staff/faculty choir members put together a lovely event to raise money for London’s soup kitchen.

A very nice concert attended by passels of parents, featuring a wide array of songs, from gospel to contemporary.

During her last week of school, the third grade had a tea party, wherein the kids all dressed up and used their best etiquette to sip tea and eat scones they’d made in class. Not a bad way to wrap up before the holidays.

We also made chocolate cupcakes with peanut butter frosting in celebration of Claire’s birthday for sharing with her class. Doesn’t get much better, especially since we used Patty’s fabulous cocoa, which is sadly now finished.

Ava’s class wrapped up well, too, with a visit from Father Christmas and a party that involved lots of sweet treats.

And for a final hurrah, lunch with friends at Café Med as big flakes of snow came down.

Over the weekend we went to the National Wildlife Photographer Exhibit of the Year at the Natural History Museum. It’s a great exhibit and one the kids and I enjoyed in 2009, too.

This perusal was followed by lunch at a Dutch pancake place (think really big crepes – bigger than the really big plates they’re served on -- sweet and savory. Delish. And then a stop at Whole Foods for good beef because it is of course critical to serve a decent meatloaf for my husband’s birthday celebration.
And I must say, Whole Foods came through. Well that and yours truly’s skills in the kitchen.

Sunday found us at Royal Albert Hall for “White Christmas,” one of the many holiday concerts/singalongs held there this time of year.

This one featured the Capital Voices and the London Concert Orchestra, led by John Rigby, conductor, with star soloists Jacinta Whyte and Matt Little.

The show included all-time favourite Christmas songs such as:
It's the most wonderful time of the year
I’m dreaming of a White Christmas
Let it snow
Candlelight Carol
Ding dong! Merrily on high
Santa Baby
Winter Wonderland
The twelve days of Christmas
Jingle Bell Rock
Baby it's cold outside
We Three Kings
Silent Night
Santa Claus is coming to town
Have yourself a merry little Christmas
All I want for Christmas is you
I wish it could be Christmas every day!

The show was fabulous and we enjoyed our box seats (who knew when I ordered them that we’d have a box). More room and a great vantage point, though since the acoustics are fabulous, it really doesn’t matter where you are in the Royal Albert for a great auditory experience.

The show had a great festive feel, with jokes and plenty of laughter, audience participation (we all got into “Twelve Days” as groups of people in various parts of the Hall were called to stand up and belt out a part of the song along with movement…i.e. wiggling hips to mimic geese laying eggs…) and dancing in the aisles.

A delightful way to enjoy the spirit of the holidays!

Our festivities continued on Monday as the kids and I spent 5 ½ hours at the Olympia Horse Show, watching horses (go figure) and some dogs, too. Along with all kinds of jumping competitions, dog agility finals and the Shetland Pony Grand National, we were entertained by The Ukrainian Cossacks, who did amazing acrobatic feats on rapidly moving horses, The Household Cavalry’s Musical Ride and a War Horse themed Christmas Finale.

Suffice it to say, by 11 Ava and I were definitely horse-weary. Thankfully Father Christmas made his appearance on a stagecoach; he livened everyone up as he wrapped up the show and we were off to the tube!

Later in the week Joe and I went to “Over the Rainbow,” a West End production about Judy Garland. It was a poignant, well-done play. And the following day: lunch with Dad at a delicious little Italian deli.

Throughout the week we watched the fiasco at Heathrow as our 3 ½ inches of snow caused pandemonium…cancelled flights upon cancelled flights, tents outside the terminals, fights at the counters. Thankfully by Christmas Eve it seemed the airport was more or less in working order, and to Barcelona we flew!

Written sometime before Christmas...

2011-01-03T05:54:00.000-08:00

One Late December Day

Ok. I am taking time away from what I’m not sure (you know when your schedule gets so derailed you’re suddenly bereft of any idea what to do? – that’s my current state. The flu, which I just learned was most likely the dreaded SWINE flu, did me in. Not only was I virtually unproductive while in the throes of it (other than to address Christmas cards), it made me LAZY.

So I have a million things I could/should be doing but I simply can’t be bothered. How’s that for a holiday attitude?

Ava’s off early today, one of those days where we spend as much time getting ready for school as she does actually being at school…

In keeping with my do nothing scheme, I believe we’ll go have lunch and find a birthday present for Claire.

I did drag myself to pilates today and was reminded how quickly the core muscles turn to jelly without regular, systematic torture. That is, I should hasten to add, for those of us past our 20’s.

On the fun side of late, it’s delightful to see London all lit up. Probably because it gets dark here around 4:00 these days, they feel a need to compensate by REALLY doing great Christmas lights. Because the society here doesn’t get too bogged down with not acknowledging the holiday because of concern over offending the non-Christmas crowd, there’s plenty of holiday display.

And no, it’s not an overtly religious country so don’t get the idea that there’s someone preaching the good news on every corner. Or any corner, for that matter. (Huge apathy in the church going department here, we're told.) Maybe that makes it easier to jump headlong into the light hearted festivities of the season without feeling you’ll offend the non-Christian population? Who knows. Who cares…

Last week the student protests over heightened tuition led to pandemonium in the streets and the Trafalgar Square Christmas tree was set on fire. I was trapped in a cab trying to get to a Joe work function, so the cab driver and I got a play by play of the protests-turned-riot: defilement of Winston Churchill’s statue, Treasury break-in, injured students/police officers, the Prince of Wales and Camilla’s car “attacked.”

It sounded like all hell broke loose from the radio. Other news outlets didn’t frame it quite as dramatically, so I’m not really sure how severe the damage was.
I did eventually make it to the Christmas dinner and, happily, wasn’t the last one into the pub. Though part of me wanted to stay near the radio to see what other drama might occur in Trafalgar Square.

This afternoon the kids and I are going to traipse down there and see how the tree fared, listen to some Christmas carols and take in the holiday cheer.

Last week was my ladies luncheon at the Dorchester, one of London’s nicer hotels. Last year we had our lovely luncheon there, too, and Hugh Grant was sited. I missed this chapter as I was in the coat check line frantically trying to get back to ASL to pick up Claire on time.

This year, no Hugh. But great fun with champagne, Christmas crackers and a decadent dessert. As with most sit-down dinners, the food was fine but not terribly memorable (rubber chicken at weddings, anyone?). Great company and we were entertained by ASL’s high school choir.

The same week I also had the opportunity to go to Paris for the day. So decadent, don’t you think? I was invited to go with a wonderful group of six women to celebrate a 50th birthday. So off we went to Kings Cross, enjoying our coffee and watching the reader board tell us the Eurostar was delayed…but still, we were off to Paris.

Eventually we did leave in the midst of a snowstorm, which then led to a slower train.

BUT we did make it to Paris, compensating with champagne on the train.

Then to lunch at a lovely little boutique restaurant in a lovely little oh so Parisian hotel. After a very long, decadently French lunch with plenty of wine, we strolled through the town, down to the Champs Elysses, took a turn on the Ferris Wheel overlooking Paris, all decorated and beautiful for Christmas, and hit the Christmas market.

Then it was time to go home! More champagne and a free upgrade to first class as the train was slow going back…no complaints – I was still home by midnight. And had a wonderful little getaway.

Brrr!!!!

2010-12-11T03:10:00.000-08:00

It’s wintertime in London (or at least it has been for the past few weeks…a few inches of snow, closed airports, icy sidewalks, commuting challenges (ok nightmares). Yesterday temperatures popped up a bit, though, and for the weekend it's supposed to be in the 40's, then back down again next week.

I must say I haven't been miserable (yet) this time around; I’ve discovered boiled wool and at 40 am finally taking my father’s advice, which is to dress appropriately for the weather. And you know, it works. That and walking from point A to point B as fast as humanly possible.

It’s been two weeks of illness, both kids taking turns with some virus from hell. They and everyone else at school it seems. Ava’s been alternating between laughing and crying on the couch, one minute singing Christmas carols, the next seeking a hug and moaning tearfully about her stomach, nose, throat, neck, the list goes on.

Claire woke up the the other day vomiting – the kid is adamant about not missing school EVER so I knew she was ill when she flatly informed me she was going back to bed, no school in her plans that day. The next day she rallied but a week+ later still is plagued by a cough.

I hit the wall this week, went to bed one night with the worst chills/fever I’ve experienced since I was a child. The next day I was certain someone had pummeled my back while I slept. Nothing that exciting went on at my house. Apparently the flu settled into my lungs and was having a hey day. Somehow Ava and I resurrected ourselves that morning and made it to the NHS to treat her ear infection. While we were there the doctor took my temperature and hastily wrote us both prescriptions. Happily we’re now on antibiotics and my back is no longer killing me.

Despite all that, we’ve managed to hit most of our Christmas festivities – Ava’s school concert was yesterday and as always, was delightful. The kids sang tons of songs, brought out the recorders and looked great in various costumes and finery.

Claire’s writers’ presentation was yesterday and was equally well done. Each child shared his or her work with parents in small groups, then took turns performing poems with their partners. The kids had to work hard on timing as the point was to recite parts of the poems by themselves and parts in tandem. Very nicely done and enjoyed by all.

Joe and I enjoyed a dinner out with some of his colleagues the other night. I must say I was amused with a similar conversation I had (separately) with the people on either side of me. Both are married (to different people) and older than we are, no kids.

And both made a point of telling me a couple times that traveling/moving is SO much easier without kids.

Now I don’t dispute that some aspects are easier – after all, we didn’t always have kids. But I am reminded of a conversation I had with a very wise woman I worked with in Michigan.

She said: your life changes when you have kids. It doesn’t stop.

That thought came to mind as both were reassuring me that their lifestyles allowed them so much freedom. I suspect that while there is some truth to that, the reality is this:

If I opted for a lifestyle of no kids, I’m sure I’d push the same line – don’t we all justify?

As for traveling w/ kids, it can be done, we certainly do – but we modify to make sure we all enjoy it. Just as you modify depending on your budget, interests, age, etc.

And based on the individuals I was chatting with, who both left the restaurant before 10, you can’t tell me they’re dancing on tables in Maui at 2:00 a.m. or backpacking through Europe and staying at hostels (which I am proud to say, I did…). Frankly they’re not going to stay in anything less than a Marriott at this stage).

Regarding travel freedom, these are people who work like dogs so the amount of time they actually spend traveling for fun is no more than anyone else.

The kicker to this conversation about how much freedom the no kids lifestyle offers was when they told me how they have to get their dogs sorted out whenver they leave. Both have two. Now if that isn’t a ball and chain I don’t know what is…

LOL! Now on to getting some things in order for the holidays...nothing like being sick to throw a kink in the best laid plans.

York should not be neglected!

2010-12-02T06:11:00.000-08:00

Why bother trying to make order out of the disorder in this blog at this point, is my theory. Nearly December and I’m going to write about York in October, like it or not!

For October’s long weekend, we headed off to northern England, to check out the town York, which we’d heard was a must. (This York business caused some confusion with Ava, who relayed to her class where she'd gone. Convinced we'd gone to New York, Ms. Cox keeps telling Ava New York isn't part of the U.K. I think Ava is still confused as to exactly where York is, if it isn't in the U.S. or England.)

Any we agree that both York and New York are not to be missed.

Day one of this adventure: we cabbed it to King’s Cross for a 9 a.m. train after seeing Patty and Steve off to Heathrow.

Our two-hour train ride flew by and we stepped out to ponder navigation around town, to the hotel, etc. Low and behold, before even leaving the train station we spotted a big sign pointing to the hotel across the street. Does it get any easier…

We ditched our bags and headed to the city centre (I’ve become so British, right? Centre vs center…) for lunch. Lovely place, York – wall around the city, medieval streets/buildings teeming with cool shops, cafes, chain and independent stores.
We crossed a bridge over the River Ouse to get into the heart of the city and found a little Danish café that was doing a lively business.

Plus it had counter service (long sit down lunches make us restlss and suck the day away, we’ve decided).

So after soup, jacket potatoes and pork sandwiches we were off to the Jordik Viking Museum. It’s a good one. Per the web site...

The remains of 1,000 year old houses are revealed beneath your feet, objects taken from the excavations are explored, and Viking-age timbers are brought before your eyes. New audio and video displays help you to investigate all of the information gathered from the 5-year long dig at Coppergate and piece together the jigsaw of where the Vikings came from, why they came here, how they lived and died, and where they travelled to.

At JORVIK Viking Centre you are standing on the site of one of the most famous and astounding discoveries of modern archaeology. Between the years 1976-81, archaeologists from York Archaeological Trust revealed the houses, workshops and backyards of the Viking-Age city of Jorvik, as it stood 1,000 years ago. These incredible findings enabled them to build the JORVIK Viking Centre on the very site where the excavations had taken place, creating a groundbreaking visitor experience that enabled you to experience life in Viking-Age York.

As you travel around the Viking-age city of Jorvik aboard our state of the art time capsules you will encounter the old-Norse speaking citizens, see inside their houses and back yards, experience a blast of smoke from blacksmith's furnace and enjoy the smell of home-cooked stew inside the home of our amber worker.

Now I’m not terribly sure about the smell of home-cooked stew; I think it was over-powered by the stench of hides drying and the privy. Or else the stew left ALOT to be desired.

But the exhibit was very cool – bit of Disney ride in Viking boat meets hands-on history appealing to or repelling all senses, sometimes all at once. Hmm. Reminds me of India, now that I think about it! LOL

From this museum we headed off to Barley Hall, the entry to which we walked by twice before finally figuring out where it was hidden. Tough to hide such a big structure, too, I might add.

Barley Hall is a stunning medieval house, once home to the Priors of Nostell and the Mayor of York. Until the 1980s the house was hidden under the relatively modern facade of a derelict office block. Only when the building was going to be destroyed was the amazing medieval building discovered and its history uncovered.

The building has now been lovingly restored to its original splendour with stunning high ceilings, beautiful exposed timber frames, and possibly the only horn window in England. It has been decorated to replicate what it would have looked like as the Snawsell home around 1483 and boasts a magnificent Great Hall. Visitors to Barley Hall can make themselves at home and sit on the chairs and handle the objects and experience what it would have been like to live in Medieval England.

I like that "lovingly restored" business, don't you?

We enjoyed touring the place – the great hall was probably my favorite. The kids got to play some medieval games upstairs – bowling, among other things.

From there we stopped for sugar at Betty’s, a small shop with pastries, cookies, teas & coffees…the other Betty’s, a big tea shop, had a line around the corner so clearly it’s a hot York ticket.

Then we stopped at The Minster, an immense cathedral that is gorgeous. And steeped in history, as noted below (a diatribe I know but just think how many thousands of years this spot has been of religious importance.)

The first Minster: 7th to 11th Centuries

York's first Minster was built for the baptism of the Anglo Saxon King, Edwin of Northumbria. Edwin was christened in a small wooden church that had been built for the occasion, this event occurred on Easter Sunday in the year 627. Almost immediately Edwin ordered that this small wooden church should be rebuilt in stone. Edwin was killed in battle in 633 and the task of completing the stone Minster fell to Oswald.

This small stone church built on the same site as the original wooden one was enlarged over time. It survived through the Viking age in York but was badly damaged by fire in the year 1069 when the Normans finally took control of the city of York. While we know something of the history of these early versions of York Minster, to date no archaeological evidence of them has been uncovered.

The Norman Minster: 1100 - 1220
Once the invading Normans had taken control of the city a decision was taken to build a new Minster on a fresh site to replace the old fire damaged Saxon Minster. Around the year 1080 Thomas of Bayeux became Archbishop and started building a cathedral that in time grew into the Minster we have today. This vast Norman church was completed around 1100, and the base of some of its distinctive columns can be seen today in the Undercroft.

During the mid twelfth century the Norman church was enlarged at both East and West; this may have been due to fire damage sustained in 1137, but this now seems unlikely.

Today's Minster: from 1220 into the future
In 1215 Walter Gray became archbishop and he was to serve the cathedral for 40 years. It was Walter who started to transform the Norman Church in to the Minster we have today. Firstly the South and North transepts were built, Walter died before they were completed. In 1291 work began on the Nave (western end) this was completed by around 1360. Work then transferred to the East end with the building of the Lady Chapel and then the Quire this was completed by around 1405. In 1407 the central tower collapsed and work on its replacement was not finished until 1433. Between 1433 and 1472 the Western towers were added and the Minster finally completed. The Minster that we know today had taken about 250 years to build.

Heritage and challenge
From 1472 until 1829 the fabric of the building changed very little although there were big changes to the way in which worship in the Minster was carried out. In February 1829 Jonathan Martin deliberately started a fire in the Quire. This act of arson resulted in the destruction of the entire east end roof and timber vault and all the wooden furniture of the Quire. Just 11 years later a second, accidental, fire destroyed the Nave roof and vault.

In the twentieth century two major events affected the building. Between 1967 and 1972 major work was undertaken to stop the Central tower collapsing. This involved close co-operation between engineers and archaeologists, but no trace of the Saxon Minster was uncovered.

On the 9th of July 1984 fire broke out in the South Transept after the Minster had been hit by lightning. The damage resulting from 3 hours of fire took some 4 years to fully repair and restore.

The cathedral is awesome in size, décor and detail, and the crypt illustrates its history beautifully through artifacts and illustrations.

We passed on the tower climb (probably to the relief of my family) as it was for the over eight crowd only. Our tour day more than complete, we headed back to the hotel, walking over part of the wall en route (gorgeous the way the wall encircles the old part of the city).

Back at our immense hotel (it’s a monolithic thing that just keeps going – we had a “garden room” (another name for basement out of the way room which management has deemed perfect for families with potentially loud children, I think). Our journey from lobby to room was a good 5-7 minute walk, which doesn’t sound like much but bear in mind it’s all in the same building…

I’ve no doubt this hotel had an abundance of very nice rooms; ours more than met our needs but no need to lounge in luxury there. We did very much enjoy the breakfast space – lovely room overlooking a gorgeous garden. And the property is probably well enjoyed for special events (i.e. the wedding taking place the weekend we were there) given its proximity to transportation, its size and the elegance of many of its rooms.

After collapsing for a bit we made off to J. Baker’s bistro moderne for our evening meal. A very modern look and feel, yet warm and comfortable, the place had an unusual – and delicious – menu, plus a few items specifically for kids.

Claire had the gnocchi, Ava fish and chips (which were about the best looking and – I sampled – best tasting – fish and chips I’ve had, ever). We all had just baked bread in the shape of bones (reference to the Jorvik place, maybe).

My aubergine stater was amazing (that would be eggplant), and I enjoyed my fish dish, too, particularly the potatoes. Dessert was heavenly – billed as chocolate cake but it was really a decadent brownie.

Ambience: urban chic. Great cow art downstairs. Yes, still urban chic, cows and all.

Sunday

We started our day slow – Joe took a walk, I headed to the fitness center in my flip flops. This broken toe business is wearing. But alas, after collecting coffee, I sucked it up and did the stairmaster barefoot. Then lifted weights, which felt great as it’s been forever since I’ve lifted w/ machines. Only the fitness obsessed can appreciate the small joys of making the muscles ache…Traci, I’m sure you’re with me.

Breakfast: good buffet with the ever popular bacon for the kids. I did step out there and try vegetarian sausages but they tasted like sawdust so I can’t imagine why anyone would bother.

From our hotel we headed off to the York Castle Museum, trailing along the city wall en route. Our first stop, though, was Clifford’s Tower, which we climbed (ha! I did get a climb in, aside from the stairmaster).

'The history of York', declared King George VI, 'is the history of England', and in many ways the history of Clifford's Tower is the history of York.

In 1068-9, William the Conqueror built two motte and bailey castles in York, to strengthen his military hold on the north: the mound of the second, now known as the 'Old Baile', can be seen clearly across the river from Clifford's Tower.

But very soon afterwards both castles were burnt by a Danish fleet, supported by the people of York. William thereupon savagely laid waste wide areas of northern England as a warning and punishment, and rebuilt both castles. The mound on which Clifford's Tower now stands became the core of the principal fortress, York Castle, defended-as can also clearly be seen from the tower-on one side by the River Ouse and on the other by the River Foss.

As the core of one of the most important fortresses in the north, the tower played a crucial role in later medieval history, when York Castle sometimes served as the seat of royal government and always as the administrative focus of Yorkshire.

Having witnessed the upheavals of the northern Pilgrimage of Grace against Henry VIII-whereafter the rebel leader Robert Aske was allegedly hung from its walls in chains to die slowly of starvation-the tower narrowly escaped demolition in Elizabethan times, when its keeper began to demolish it in order to sell its materials, beginning inside the tower so as to avoid detection.

Happily our experience didn't involve hanging from walls and starving to death; we were there on a gorgeous blue sky day so we had a spectacular view.

From the tower we walked across the yard to the York Castle Museum, which is very cool, too. And very big.

York Castle Museum is one of Britain's leading museums of everyday life. It shows how people used to live by displaying thousands of household objects and by recreating rooms, shops, streets - and even prison cells.

The Victorian streets were the highlight of the visit, as was the outdoor courtyard/play area – the kids burned off steam with hula hoops while we absorbed the sun. GREAT weather.

We also hit the attached millhouse, where the kids could grind wheat into flour the hard way.

Then it was off to the Shambles, the best preserved Medieval street in Europe. It’s a lovely little street with quaint buildings and shops. We also wandered through the the market, opting for street food for lunch (crepes and sausages). We then shopped around a bit, checked out the street entertainers and walked along the wall back to the hotel.

There we spent some time in the pool and sauna before dinner, then headed off to Melton’s Too for our evening meal. This was a more traditional restaurant – dark, worn wood planking on the floor, wooden tables, exposed brick walls. Joe and I shared starters and tapas, kids had homemade pasta and some of our food, which ranged from chorizo and mash to four different types of smoked fish. Ava ate all the salmon; think of the health value.

We also had stuffed peppers and Turkish meatloaf. My favorite was the chorizo and mash, though the blue cheese and zucchini dish was hard to beat. And the sticky toffee pudding was fabulous.

Monday

This morning Joe walked the city wall, I had another fitness center day. Given we aren’t gym members it’s nice to pop into one occasionally for a change of pace.
After trekking the length of a football field from our room to breakfast, we ditched our luggage and hit the National Railway Museum. That place is immense, with warehouses full of trains old and new, royal and for the masses. We could climb up some, peer in windows, watch footage of times past wherein the train played a key role, the kids even got to ride a miniature train. Great stuff and you could spend hours there. We spent a couple and had to pry ourselves away to catch our own train!
Great weekend out. Go to York! or New York!

Thanksgiving Success

2010-11-22T12:37:00.000-08:00

Yes I know, it’s too early for Thanksgiving. However, since we’ll be eating cod or some Welsh specialty on Thanksgiving proper, we decided to have our big American feast a few days early.

So yesterday was all about food.

I spent last week trying to get a headstart on the meal deal, plus I think the process is great fun to stretch out a bit…searching out ingredients, ordering food, perusing recipes (one time, early in my marriage, my husband incredulously asked if I was actually reading a cookbook. And yes, I was.).

This was all fun and games until the turkey business went pear-shaped (love that British expression). First I’d thought perhaps I’d do something radically different and go with pouissins (fancy name for small chickens). I.e. six of these little chicks for our six adults and one standard chicken for the five kids.

We’d extended our early T’giving food plans to our Australian and Texan neighbors. Who doesn’t like a happy secular holiday with plenty of food?)

The reasoning here – about poussins, not Texans and Australians --was to avoid the challenge of 1) locating a turkey (they are to be had here but are costly, many places require advance ordering and they often aren’t available until two days before T’giving. Plus I don’t have a big oven here. That said, it’s not a tinker toy (one would think we all have ovens the size of toasters here, the way some ex-pats exaggerate about the inadequacy of their appliances. Or maybe they had ovens on steroids at home?).

Anyway, it is prudent to make sure the bird will fit in the oven while also allowing the oven heat to circulate properly, thus helping to ensure a properly cooked hunk of poultry.

But then I noted the poussins and chicken were going to eat all my oven space and then some, plus I’d have to fuss over 7 birds rather than one.

So turkey ended up being the logical choice, and a 10 or 12 pounder would work, I figured.

Next mission: finding one. Three stores later, no birds available until next week.

Hmmm.

Ocado to the rescue. Now don’t let the word get out, but (shock of all shocks) I purchased a frozen bird. This was after I picked out a lovely free range 12 pound animal that had purportedly enjoyed a fantastic life wandering the fields with his 10 favorite female friends, eating a splendorous fruit, grain and nut diet. Said bird would then have been humanely sacrificed and rushed to my kitchen for a splendid T’giving feast. Not only would his happy, healthy, carefree life have been cut short gently, he would of course be juicy, flavorful, chemical-free etc etc.

As I moved toward the “purchase” button I read the fine print: available in December.
Scratch the homespun heirloom happy go lucky turkey.

What was available in the 12 pound range was a frozen bird. No details on how he lived, but let’s get real here: turkey isn’t the world’s sexiest meat. (I’m having vague recollections of the turkey farm I toured in Germany eons ago. The experience would convert most to beef, pork, venison, squid, anything but poultry. But that’s another story.)

While that was off-putting, it didn’t really turn me off turkey. I just find it’s a bit bland (that word just says it all, doesn’t it?). And in fact I feel quite vindicated on my feelings about turkey, having listened to my foodie program earlier today (Splendid Table). The program featured a chef who, when asked how he does T’gving, said he avoids it, roasting a big chicken, stuffed with fabulous chestnut stuffing, instead.

HA! I am not the only one who thinks turkey is overrated. Of course, if you smother it in really good gravy…

Now I must say I can’t believe I’m telling the world that I happily settled for a frozen bird, but the reality was I was a bit desperate, plus quite pleased with the price. And Ocado could deliver two days before I needed it, plenty of time to thaw the thing.

This delivery business wasn’t smooth sailing, though. I had carefully orchestrated delivery from 3 and 4 that day because I had a Tudor outing at the Nat’l Portrait Gallery from 10 to 2 ish, then had to get back here to get something accomplished and await the grocery man. (Let’s face it, I’m behind on everything due to Tudor outings and such.)

He showed up just before 4, dropped the bags and ran. I ignored said bags for 20 minutes, then started putting things away. Only to find no turkey. Someone’s brown and serve rolls instead. GREAT.

In a panic – and rushing out the door to collect Ava – I called Ocado. On hold.
Caller # 5 in the queu.

Collected Ava. Got disconnected. Frantically re-dialed. Now caller 3 in the queu. Short window before Claire retrieval and finally someone picked up only to tell me she’d call back after doing some reconnaissance. As I was about to walk over to ASL, she phoned to say the driver was again en route, this time w/ the turkey. Dilemna. Claire. Turkey. AHHH. Friend Kelly to the rescue. She happened by to pick up something up as I was in my state of frenzy and took over Claire pick up.

Ten minutes later, my bird was indeed swapped out for the rolls.

Phew.

Now that it’s 48 hours past the feast, I have to say that was one of the best turkeys I’ve ever eaten. Whether he never saw the light of day, was pumped up with hormone infested pellets, crowded in with a bunch of birds he hated or whatever, he made a mighty good feast. Juicy, tender and flavorful (this is coming from a serious turkey skeptic).

It also helped to not over-cook said bird and to slather him up w/ butter, salt and pepper, then a maple syrup/black pepper glaze (this was my 2010 experiment and I’ve already committed it to my recipe book).

The glaze contributed to the best gravy I personally have ever concocted. (Drippings plus malt vinegar, of all things, the roux and some chicken broth…fabulous.)
Everything else was tasty too – cornbread/sausage stuffing (with my recent favorite cornbread recipe), homemade rolls – Mom’s buttery sweet roll recipe, those cranberries I’d cranked on earlier, mashed potatoes with plenty of real Irish butter (yes, it is better), Melissa’s green bean casserole (it’s not T’giving without the French fried onion casserole), sweet potatoes with brown sugar/pecan topping, pecan pie, a big green salad w/ feta that, even on day 2 of the feast, I still haven’t found room to fit in, either on my plate or in my tummy.

A thoroughly fabulous T’giving with great company and cocktails to start and finish, thx to the Texans.

I hope, as you read this, that you’re eagerly anticipating my favorite holiday, and that you glory in your turkey, frozen or fresh, free range or “housed” (sounds better than caged, right?).

Comfort food

2010-11-21T12:29:00.000-08:00

Written last Wednesday. One would think I could write and post same day, but apparently not.

Ok so what does comfort food mean to you? For me it’s polenta, warm, just the right amount of salty, just the right amount of thick/chewy but not chewy, with just the right amount of good Parmesan and BUTTER. None of that substitute stuff.

This I subjected my kids to tonight. They actually also love it. Put a grain in front of them and they’re happy. My husband, not so much. His idea of comfort food is probably something different. Midwestern meatloaf and mashed potatoes, likely?

When I think comfort food I don’t think mac n’ cheese, though for many that ranks. (Maybe my brother still fondly reflects on it; he kept Kraft in business for a while. Today I think he tends more toward a really good steak and my mother’s incredibly perfect seasoned salad. This is nothing more than an olive oil/vinaigrette mixture w/ just the right amount of seasoning, but somehow no one else gets it perfect.)

What else ranks on my comfort list…I would have to say oxtail soup with barley (again, my mom’s). It’s really rough when you grow up with a REALLY good cook. I won’t even get started on her pie crust. Or potato salad.

Do not ask me how I felt a need to extrapolate on polenta and barley soup; maybe it’s because I’m consumed with Thanksgiving. Today I had a foodie heaven day. I started at Whole Foods, where you leave (I should say I left) with a SMALL brown bag in exchange for 26 pounds. OUCH.

These cranberries better be good.

But I did so enjoy perusing the aisles with the people stocking them (9 a.m. is a great Whole Foods time), though there aren’t many samples out. So if you’re diet obsessed, go then.

From Whole Foods I moved on to a Thai cooking class, wherein the chef cooked up Thai comfort good (hence my digression. I knew there must be a connection somewhere).
Her comfort food was an incredibly good curry chicken served over coconut rice. I could get used to this.

Then I collected Claire and made DECADENT (and I do mean decadent) brownies. 80 percent dark chocolate. Big eggs. Plenty of REALLY good butter.

You’d think with all this food talk I’d weigh 200 pounds. Not to worry. Even in my limping state I get plenty of activity schlepping around London, usually carrying at least 10 pounds worth of groceries, kid stuff, books, the like. Plus Sam at pilates is trying to kill me so I haven’t many calories to spare.

We moved on from the really good butter in the really decadent brownies to conjuring up cranberry sauce (with those whole foods cranberries that cost a million dollars). And no, I don’t do the jellied stuff out of the can. Once I year I crave cranberries and given the infrequency, they better be the real deal.

Tomorrow: head start on the cornbread stuffing. You know the drill. No stove top here, sister.

How do you wash a tie?

2010-11-15T22:31:00.000-08:00

That’s the topic of the morning, as Ava came home with applesauce on her tie. (This would be a critical component of the Abercorn uniform, which I must say, was tied successfully by yours truly yesterday.)

This tieing of the tie was somewhat of an accomplishment given

1) her father typically does it…but hard to reach across the Atlantic this week, therein leaving me in charge of one crisp, proper knot. You can see I’m stretching for descriptors on properly tied ties.

2) I don’t have much tie expertise.

And 3) Tie-tying under the duress of morning mayhem takes the process to a new – and not necessarily good – level. (Some days it’s all we can do just to get out the door in something other than our underwear, let alone ramp it up on accessories.)

Getting back to my question of the hour, I tried sponging; I’ll get back to you on my level of success. Or not; somehow I doubt you’re sitting on the edge of your chair on this one.

As for other mundane topics, ever ponder light switches? Normally I don’t bother, either, but this weekend I had the opportunity. Why, for instance, doesn’t the switch closest at hand turn on the lamp similarly…closest at hand?

It’s a Seinfeld sort of thing, I suppose.

Anyway, I’d been laying awake at the fine Ramada Inn Tunbridge Wells, trying not to wake up my two sleeping beauties, pondering all the things I haven’t yet done (not things like writing the world’s greatest novel or learning to scuba…though the first holds appeal, the second none whatsoever). The list running through my mind was more along the lines of Thanksgiving menus, ironing, ordering school clothes.

Tired of my ramblings, I hit the nearest light switch, which lit the whole place up like a fire. The next one lit the kids’ side, even though they can’t reach said switch from their bed. The third hit the light over the mirror and TV. And the last one – a long reach from little old me – nailed my lamp. Hmmph.

Similarly, at home the light in the patio is governed by a switch in the living room, as far from the light as you can get and still remain in the living room.
And then there are two light upstairs that are governed by one switch; I’ve yet to understand why, when its sister switch could do one of the jobs…

You really can write about nothing. Maybe Seinfeld was also created at 6 a.m. without coffee.

As for mid-October onward…

York? I wrote a diatribe on this trip (great town in northern England which we as a family thoroughly enjoyed a few weeks ago. I'll regurgitate my prose at a later date; it takes some time to decode chicken scratch).

Post-York:

With a little extra time on our hands upon our return, Claire and I met up with friends for an outing to the Natural History Museum and its Amazonia exhibit – a one room wonder. The exhibit brought nature and art together through abstract paintings, photography and sculpture (i.e. works that resembled bones with splotches of color, extreme close ups of nature photos, etc.).

Also during our museum visit we lunched and checked out the bugs. I'm not sure if it's best to check them out before, thereby putting a damper on the appetite, or after, which could provoke indigestion...

The most striking thing about this particular Natural History Museum visit was our discovery of a new entrance (the building is huge but apparently I hadn’t been imaginative enough to get beyond the main entrance, generally featuring a line out to the sidewalk).

This new way in didn’t have even a glimpse of a line and it opened a whole new world of natural history to us. I maintain you could live in London all your life, hit two or three museums per week and still never cover it all.

Upon return to routine that week I fit in an India lunch with the American School London’s international group. This is an organization open to all ASL parents, its goal to provide international experiences – through food, culture, art, learning – to the community. I think it’s a very valuable organization, given ASL can lean toward being a “mini-America” experience unless you push outside the boundaries.

The culinary arm of the group is particularly interesting (the foodie in my surfaces). This lunch was at an Indian woman’s home, with demonstrations of how to prepare homecooked Indian food. Naturally the dishes are less complex, less heavy, less intensely spicy than many restaurants throw at you. It was all very good, though I do like Indian food with some serious HEAT!

On the theatre side, I took myself out with a group of ladies to see “Flashdance.” Flashback to high school! As is everything I’ve seen on the West End, it was very well done, but the male lead was a little light. That is, he could have been taller, darker, more handsome and with a deeper voice – could I get any more critical this morning?

Perhaps I should just say he didn’t come off quite as heroic as the movie version.
Other members of our party echoed similar opinions, someone noting that the lead in Dirty Dancing was considerably less Patrick Swayze-ish. She said it ruined the experience for her. I prefer to herald PS in that role so will pass on DD at the theatre.

Further to the art scene, a few of us gathered for the Treasures of Budapest exhibit at the Royal Arts Academy. Very thorough representation, it seemed to me (and according to the Royal Academy):

This exhibition showcases the breadth and wealth of one of the finest collections in Central Europe. The exhibition features over 200 works and includes paintings, drawings and sculpture from the early Renaissance to the twentieth century. Selected works by artists including Leonardo da Vinci, Raphael, El Greco, Rubens, Goya, Manet, Monet, Schiele, Gauguin and Picasso are on display, many of which have not previously been shown in the UK.

The Museum of Fine Arts, Budapest houses the state collection of international art works in Hungary and includes the Esterházy collection, acquired by the Hungarian state in 1871. The collection began in the seventeenth century but expanded during the rule of Prince Nikolaus II Esterházy (1765 – 1833) who was responsible for developing the fine collection of Old Master paintings and drawings which will be showcased in the exhibition. One of the highlights of the exhibition will be Raphael's 'Virgin and Child with St John the Baptist', 1508 (known as The Esterházy Madonna).

This perusal of art, followed by lunch at Fortnum & Mason, made for an extraordinary day out.

And now I'm onto making toast and peeling kids off the bed. Happy Tuesday!

Dorset

2010-11-07T12:45:00.000-08:00

Sept 29 – Oct 1 found me, with the Alice Leader contingency of ladies, catching a train to Dorset…

My first order of business was to limp to the tube, meet up w/ the group at Waterloo and watch the rain fall as we headed coastal, toward Weymouth. Lovely country and a great day to be watching the world go by.

Upon arrival at the train station we marched off with our suitcases; our trusty bus whisked us off to the Wise Man pub in West Stafford and we had pub grub in a warm, woody setting. The local cider: good (it’s apparently cider making time here so we naturally got on board with the seasons). The local chili: not so good. Who does chili on rice, anyway?

From The Wise Man we hit the Dorset County Museum, which was supposed to have plenty of Hardy items to peruse. However, our tour guide apologetically noted X was missing, Y they couldn’t find, Z was under protection, etc.

We all had a good chuckle at their expense.

Then off to Max Gate, Hardy’s home, which he designed. It’s a Gothic looking, stately but not particularly grand home. There one of the very elderly actresses who played Tess’ sister in one of the theatre productions done during Hardy’s time was present. She couldn’t hear well but shared memories of rehearsing in the parlor. The Swiss woman in our group visited with her for a bit, spending most of the conversation trying to convince her she wasn’t German. In fact, she’s from the French part of Switzerland, so really not inclined to jump on board w/ the German business.

The room in which this little old lady held audience was one of a few we could tour (ok, one of two if you didn’t count the entry way). In the other room we were given a welcome by a Hardy expert, who recited some of his poetry, bringing it alive with his Dorset accent. What I remember best was the old sofa on the far side of the room; someone expired upon it 100 years ago.

Then we were off to the Yalbury Cottage (at least my faction of the group; others were chauffeured to their respective hotels.). Our cottage was in a quiet, rural spot with cows and ponies frolicking in the pastures behind.

My window looked out upon this pastoral scene, which felt straight out of a Hardy novel. He captures the essence of the landscape and weather beautifully in his prose.

After some re-group time we met for dinner at the Yalbury, which I have to say has a great chef. I’d stay there for the food alone. Short commute, too. Apparently said chef used to work for 4 Seasons as an executive chef.

At the moment I can’t remember what I ate (unbelievable, isn’t it). Of course it is a month later.

Ah yes…now I recall. Scallop starter, vegetable and spelt pie for my main (sounds so healthy but believe me it packed a wallop of really good butter) and apple flan to finish. Perfect for the season.

I do remember the conversation at our table…it went from “why are our kids taking the tube for their field trips?” (vs. busing, why 3rd grade and not the older/potentially more seasoned 5th graders, for example.) I, for what it’s worth, didn’t really get concerned about losing my daughter on the tube. One, I guess we’ve already been down that path and am now de-sensitized? (thankfully a short-lived fright but all ended up fine), 2) Claire’s teacher is WAY on top of things and 3) the 3rd grade crowd seems to have enough acumen to sort themselves out (probably because ASL has drilled the protocol into them should they get separated from the group, tube or no tube).

Ok back to the table conversation. Yes so it ranged from the tube to plastic surgery (re-building of cheekbones – who knew?). As my friend Allison says, I thought you did that through weight loss.

Then we moved on to 3rd grade girls and carbohydrates. This I refuse to make an issue in my humble home.

Oh and this led into obesity in the U.S. Phew doesn’t it sound like we were all a bunch of carpies (is that the right word or am I referring to fish?). Yes, there is an obesity problem there but it’s also a growing problem (no pun intended) here, in India, Mexico, you name it…blame it on Nintendo, TV, internet, McDonalds, laziness, cheese, beer, whatever.

The following day I had a fabulous omelette. I do mean fabulous. Boy that sounds funny right after my paragraph on obesity. LOL.

Then off to Hardy’s childhood home, a lovely little cottage with tiny upstairs rooms. We then went to Bere Regis, famous for its connection to Hardy's novel 'Tess of the d’Urbervilles', first published in 1891, where it is referred to as 'Kingsbere'. (Never mind that he described it as a “half dead townlet.”) We stopped at the church there, lovely with carved roof and Tuberville stained glass window.

Then it was time to eat again (these trips are heavily weighted toward food, again no pun intended). This time: the Greyhound. I think we pre-ordered, then all re-ordered and confused the kitchen, wherein we all passed around some starters and desserts because we didn’t want to add insult to injury. I recall thinking the soup (which I did not order) was quite good.

After all that food we simply had to move, and Alice had arranged two walk options for us. Being a gimp, I opted for the putz around Dorchester – “Far from the Madding Crowd” walk. We hit the points on our map, had time to tool around antiquing and shopping a bit, then slipped back to the hotel for some down time.

In my case, a massage at a room in a very cool inn dating back to the 1500’s. The masseuse was fabulous and doctored up my toe with some homeopathic meds. I’ll try anything to move the healing along (anything except the R-I-C-E treatment at this point, apparently. Don’t worry, my time came.).

Truly a fabulous afternoon – historic walk with friends, nap, massage, bath and dinner, all in the space of a few hours.

Our coach (sounds so Cinderalla doesn’t it? Never mind; it was a bus with a bit of a grouchy driver) whisked (lumbered) us off to dinner, this time at the Blue Vinny. Great name, you think? Another good meal; I seem to recall fish this time.

And on Friday we enjoyed another amazing breakfast before heading off to Stinsford Church. Hardy and his wives are buried in the churchyard, and he was baptized within. I shall probably always recall best Alice swearing like a sailor inside; I can’t remember the story she was recounting but it was most amusing and blasphemous! (I’ve always wanted to use that term!!!)

We then stopped for coffee/tea before hitting the train back to Waterloo. 1) we had a little time to kill and 2) one can never have enough of a warm beverage living here, it seems.

Actually, Szerina and I used our coffee time to go on on a mad, fast paced shopping trip that netted nothing (I was looking for warm slippers to accommodate foot issues. You know as well as I that when you go in search of such specific items they are NO WHERE to be found.).

All too soon we were back on a train homeward bound. Another great Alice Leader adventure!

India. Or not?!?

2010-11-04T16:05:00.000-07:00

I was still in fly high mode after the 13.1 disorganized Run to the Beat race. (I'll go w/ 13.1 because it sounds longer than ½ a marathon. Even better would be the measurement in km but I’m not that good at math and am too lazy to google. That’s wicked bad down to the toes LAZY, isn’t it?).

Well anyway, still in my high flying mode, I recall getting up early the following day set the world on fire (generally that means I've gotten up before everyone else to putz in my kitchen and on my computer. Plus the toe/coffee table accident hadn't yet occurred so I had big plans and no distractions.)

Order of business: make coffee, check email. So while the French press was doing its thing and I was as of yet devoid of caffeine, I was sure the note I opened from my husband did not say he hadn't been let in and was catching a BA flight home in an hour.

How does a tired clean cut, nicely dressed businessman not get allowed into India's India-ness? Last time I saw him he didn't look like much of a threat to the country.

(Frankly I’m the one who occasionally runs around the house in a rave with bedhead. Husband? Not so much. And since he’s in human resources, his diplomacy skills are outstanding (when one is deficient in a category, i.e. self, one does notice these things).

At this point I had coffee, which did not change the content of his note. Hmmm!

So there you have it. Husband turned up exhausted later same day. Apparently he’d been shuffled from small waiting room to small waiting room along with others who couldn’t pass go.

He did manage to be returned to England via business class. A long way to go for nothing but miles…

The following day found me doing the St. Johns Wood walk with the London Walks people. Ironic, isn’t it, that later that day I would slam myself into the coffee table and find walking REALLY a drag.

The SJW walk was good, though the guide took plenty of potshots at the high retail value of homes in the area. Maybe she didn’t make the connection that we were with the St. Johns Wood Women’s Club…a group of women residing in…well, St. Johns Wood.
Then again maybe she enjoyed slamming residents w/ her snide comments?

Nevertheless, a good walk that carried us around the neighborhood to learn about historical events, buildings and famous faces in our back yard.

Some of the highlights:

St John's Wood is a district of north-west London, England, in the City of Westminster, and at the north-west end of Regent's Park. It is approximately 2.5 miles north-west of Charing Cross. Once part of the Great Middlesex Forest, it was later owned by the Knights of St John of Jerusalem.

St John's Wood was developed from the early 19th century onwards. It was one of the first London suburbs to be developed with a large amount of low density "villa" housing, as opposed to the terraced housing which was the norm in London up to the 19th century, even in expensive districts. Parts of St John's Wood have been rebuilt at a higher density, but it remains a highly desirable residential district.

St John's Wood is the location of Lord's Cricket Ground, home of Middlesex County Cricket Club and the Marylebone Cricket Club (MCC), and original headquarters of the sport. It is also famous for Abbey Road Studios and the street Abbey Road, where The Beatles recorded, notably the Abbey Road album, the cover of which features the band crossing the road. Paul McCartney has owned a property in the area since the 1960s along with many other famous music and film stars.

The King's Troop, Royal Horse Artillery has a barracks in St. John's Wood and regularly exercises their horses by parading them through the streets of St. John's Wood.

Chef Clarissa Dickson Wright grew up in St John's Wood, and the former Wrights' home is now home to supermodel Kate Moss. Actor Damian Lewis was born in St John's Wood. The Rolling Stones referenced it in their song "Play With Fire". The director, wit and physician Jonathan Miller was born into a wealthy family in the area. The British World War II flier Douglas Bader was born in St. John's Wood.

I must say I’ve yet to hit a cricket match, but that’s on the list…I believe the 2012 summer Olympics archery events and maybe others will be held at Lord’s, so watch for it on the telly!

As for the Beatles crossing, I step over that much-acclaimed crosswalk at least twice a day, if not more often. Much to the annoyance of many strategizing for the perfect Beatles replicated photo, I’ve walked through plenty of shots. Good thing for photoshop.

Re: Kate Moss. If I’ve seen her, she hasn’t registered. Clearly I don’t read enough People magazine.

As for the royal horses, we do see them regularly and had the opportunity to tour their barracks last year. That’s a must do, especially since the horses will be relocated next year.

More late; I’m fried!

Late September in London: Pilates

2010-11-01T04:39:00.000-07:00

Yes, I realize it's now Nov. 1 and I'm still talking about September...stop the clocks!!!

Late September found me discovering pilates, which has become my latest exercise obsession.

I was introduced into this torturous looking program by my dear friend Suzanne, a high energy New Zealander who convinced me to try “beautcamp” pilates.

So I signed up for my first free class (love free, don’t you) and made my way to Bayswater for this experience. I wasn’t sure if this was a mix of cardio and floor/machine exercises or what, but I was game.

10:00 rolled around. No Suzanne. 10:05 no Suzanne. Class took place. No Suzanne. Class ended, no Suzanne. Hmm!

Nevertheless, I enjoyed the class (as much as one can enjoy burning muscles, particularly ones that have languished, untested, for years. In fact I think they were/are MAD that I found them and have since put them through their paces).

I had a great instructor for my first class; Ben walked me through the reformer (imagine a cot covered partly with a matt that moves back and forth, tension adjustable). The thing has a movable bar, useful for push ups and all manner of exercises.

Underneath this machine lie a variety of props to continue the physical torture – weights, boxing gloves (have yet to use those), a pole, ring, etc.).

So far each class has been different as there are a variety of instructors and they change up the routine each time. Some things seem to be consistent throughout – squat-like exercises using the reformer to warm up, lots of planks, tricep press ups, etc.

I've become a regular at this place for the past 6 weeks, sorting out who my favorite instructors are and finessing my form to gain the most benefit (burn). So far I think Vicki and Jordie give the hardest workouts. Vicki’s class leaves me feeling like a wet noodle, in a good way. And Jordie is very good at coaching superb form, plus he’s eye candy.

I had to laugh at a recent exchange I overheard between him and another guy who was taking the class. The guy said he'd been away from pilates for a while since he was busy w/ "Tap Dogs," which I saw on the West End. They were talking about a mutual friend who moved to Vegas and had her third child. Jordie's comment: Well I guess there's not much else to do in Vegas. I'm still chuckling about that...what would he think of Charlotte in terms of excitement I wonder.

My pilates launch also fit beautifully into my “light mode” training prior to the ½ marathon and, bonus, it’s a great way to work on flexibility for people like me who don’t bother with stretching.

On Sept. 23 I had a belated birthday celebration. If you turn 40 you’re allowed to celebrate the event for at least six months afterward, I think. 15 of my favorite women friends gatherwed with me, we all donned frocks and had fabulous food at Il Baretto. It was a lovely night, fabulous company and I felt well celebrated.

Small anecdote: I hit the ladies’ room and as I was making my way to the sink a horror-stricken man looked at me and said “wrong room?” I just laughed, delighted to know it wasn't me.

Somewhere during that week I also snuck off to the movies with the ladies. It always feels decadent to hit a matinee during the week, doesn't it? We saw Tamara Drew, which appropriately follows Bathsheba’s story in The Mdading Crowd (Thomas Hardy). The movie, though, was a bit slow/long and then came to a crashing, rather dark ending. WFV

Happily, my husband also returned, unscathed, from a business trip, only to prepare for another.

The kids started pre and post Communion classes on the 25th and I headed off for my ½ marathon the following morning, dressed in three layers. Can we say cold. Our start was at the 02 centre near the river. Colder. Then it was delayed due to tube issues. By then Michelle and I were beyond blue.

I must say, it was a great race (shaky start – 17,000 runners and a rather disorganized race organization). We scarcely found our start; Deb and I were booked into the same timed group and ended up leaping fences and weaving our way through the masses to try to find our space. I’m still not sure if we did but at least we ended up toward the first third.

Somehow we missed the place for checking in our bags (no biggie; neither of us had anything of value in them so we made use of a trash bin). We also managed to find the port-a-potties; that too was chaotic BUT good thing it panned it for us. Could have been a long race otherwise…

We took off together and I have to say I was so frigidly uncomfortable for the first three miles I didn’t think I’d ever get my shoulders out of the clothes pin position.
About mile four, though, the blood seemed to come back into my system, and at mile 5 or 6 I actually shed a layer. Who knew? I also lost Deb about then.
The miles after that were quite happy; well I don't remember them so that's why I would describe them as happy.

However, someplace toward the end, when I could no longer find the mile markers (same problem Deb and Michelle said they had, so it wasn’t just me), someone in the crowd, thinking they were being helpful, hollered “not much longer now.” And someone else said “almost there…”

Boy was I bummed when the end wasn’t just around the corner. In fact, I had a few more corners to go.

But all in all, a great race, I finished in 1:51, which was good for me. And I finished strong, pushed it to the end, still had energy in me, no particular pain.
Yes, I would do the ½ again.

So I was flying high with this attitude until Tuesday afternoon.

Then the coffee table attacked me. Well ok I was in a huge, clumsy hurry...

And the pinkie toe was the casualty. Since then I haven’t been running. In fact, I couldn't wear anything but flip flops for over a month. Those apples SUCK.
This problem contributed to my infatuation with pilates.

I must say I did want/need a break from running (I had some strange bruises on my feet/ankles, was starting to dread getting up early on Wednesdays to run, etc.). But I could have done without the toe breakage to get a change of scenery.

Now that the toe has gotten a week bit better (this is one long drawn out healing process), I can wear my very ugly UGGs that, happily, John Lewis put on sale last year. Also happily, the one pair available as I was heading off to Haworth for a very COLD, very authentic Bronte experience in the Moors last winter was in my size. They are now my savior. Not pretty, but toe-friendly and warm.

Oh the little dramas of life...

Pope!

2010-10-22T09:38:00.000-07:00

September 18…this marked Claire and my lottery day. That is, we’d been given admittance to see the pope at the Papal Vigil in Hyde Park.

Thus she and I packed up a picnic and our folding chairs and joined our group at St. Thomas More for a pilgrimage to Hyde Park.

It was a slow process – any large group activity is, I guess. Plus it was a pilgrimage, so a cheerful, long drawn out journey there. We broke into smaller groups for purposes of bus travel and made our way gradually down to the park area. Had our group all been capable of walking the few miles to the park, it would have been a truer pilgrimage, I think. Plus it would have been just as fast or faster, given the waits for buses and for our groups to re-group.

We had a lovely day for it, though, and got to Hyde Park just before 2:00. The place was already crowded with hundreds more pressing in. The ambience was
fabulous, very light-hearted and energetic. Even the security guards were cheery, asking people if they’d traveled far.

We had a fabulous afternoon waiting for the Pope, who was to wheel in on the Pope mobile around 6:30.

Our group marched up to where we could find a good viewing spot and spread out a bit, sporting our huge banner, which, as Father stated, was the best one there. It was the biggest and ended up on the front page of the Telegraph. Can’t beat that.
Around us groups gathered eating, chatting , sleeping, reading, praying, saying the Rosary. Confessions took place here and there, people stood in line for ice cream and just enjoyed being out enjoying the community of fellow Catholics on a warm, sunny autumn day. (Or I’m projecting how I felt about the event. What’s life without a little emotional projection.)

It really was fun just to look around and absorb the happy anticipation in the crowd and to watch everyone mingling. Lots of laughter and happy faces, even in the long lines for the porta-potties. I also saw more mingling among strangers, generally less common in the big city.

Claire and I read a lot, she did some puzzles and games in between being entertained by dancers and musicians from Poland, Wales, Spain, Aftrica and many other parts of the world. The program, broadcast on huge screens throughout the park, included speakers who shared stories about their Catholic faith and/or how Catholic charities or Catholicism had affected them or their loved ones.

The most poignant story was told by a couple, parents with a large family who lost their 16-year-old to a violent act by a drugged out stranger at a convenience store. They talked about how faith had helped them not turn their grief into bitterness and anger but instead to work against drug-realted problems by sharing their story and through community volunteerism.

The mom called to young people in particular in the crowd to be proud of their faith, as her Jimmy had been.

It was wonderful to see Catholicism celebrated or brought to life in so many ways as we waited – through dance, song, prayer, even a bit of “fire and brimstone” preaching. Eventually, as the sun dipped for a great sunset, the screens gave us views from above of the Pope mobile making its way to Hyde Park. With cheers and energy building, we were all on our feet to welcome the pope!

He graciously waved and smiled a gentle, happy smile. He looked tired but pleased with the welcome he received.

The service was lovely in the dusk, the stage beautifully lit. The pope gave a well-spoken, succinct homily that addressed his sadness with the problems in the church’s past and hope for the church’s future.

In particular he reached out to the youth in the crowd, many of them gathered up front. A group from Spain, where the next World Youth Day will be held, were particularly enthusiastic in cheering for the pope when he referenced the event. Their cheers brought a huge smile to his face.

I left a bit in awe; it was the largest group of Catholics I’ve ever gathered with in prayer. It was a very powerful, peaceful experience, and I’m very glad we went.
I think Claire enjoyed it, too; it was particularly well timed given her recent First Holy Communion.

The week following the Papal experience was a busy one, Joe left for business in Charlotte and my friend Beth and I traipsed off for complimentary training sessions with some personal trainers who are new to St. Johns Wood. This of course was followed by coffee because one can’t exercise without coffee. Before and after!

While each of us felt like we got something out of our freebie sessions (for me, focus on flexibility and subtleties to improve my running), we won’t be signing up for the 60 pound/hour sessions.

Ava sharted her drama club, a one-hour afterschool program, this week, after telling me for a year she had no interest in any of the after school clubs. Now she’s all over drama and is dying to take cooking too (they made cupcakes the first week, which I must say looked awfully appealing).

The awards for best dramatic acting each session are balloons; Ava so far has made off with two, one for best flamingo, the other for simply being the best in class, she tells me.

My art outing for the week was to see the Raphael tapestries at the V&A (museum). As part of the Papal visit, these tapestries were on loan from the Vatican, appearing for the first time next to their matching cartoons (which reside at the V&A). A lovely exhibit and an easy one to fit in given it’s succinct.

About it…

This is a display of four of the ten tapestries designed by Raphael for the Sistine Chapel in Vatican City. These are the original tapestries from the only series designed by Raphael of which examples survive, and are comparable with Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel Ceiling as masterpieces of High Renaissance art.

The tapestries are displayed alongside the full-size designs for them – the famous Raphael Cartoons. This is the first time that the designs and tapestries have been displayed together – something Raphael himself never witnessed. The tapestries have not been shown before in the UK.

That’s it for today. I must get ready for Thai food at the Blue Elephant!

3rd Grade Kicks into Gear

2010-10-21T06:49:00.000-07:00

Claire’s first week of school was good, and short. Love it when you can ease into the schedule w/ a weekend close at hand.

We started with third grade oerintation – really just a brief stop at the school for a rundown on logistics, tours of the 3rd grade pod for the kids and a download on expectations for parents.

From there we met friends in the park for a couple hours of fun on a nice, sunny September day.

Claire likes her teacher, who she gets to call Suzanne; her classmates seem like a nice mix. And the third grade agenda includes a couple of rapidly advancing field trips, one to Buckingham Palace. Not bad for the 8 year old crowd. Spanish has been swapped for Italian, which is a bummer as Claire was really enjoying it.

While she jumped into things at ASL, Ava and I had a few days together to catch up with friends at parks. We also met up with friends for a picnic in Kensington, and of course we retraced our steps to the Duck tour bus stop.

We scored on the weather for our amphibious vehicle adventure, and our guide was good – witty and fun, great with kids. She had lots of smart little insights to share.

The part on land, I think, is actually better as it’s longer than the water portion, hits the highlights well but without being laborious and then the pop into the water is a fun end with great, if shortlived, views.

That same week I went on a walk with a group to Islington, walking along the canal from Regent’s park until we reached the town. It’s a great way to enjoy the changing neighborhoods, plus helps me sort out my (lacking) skills as a navigator. We had another great, sunny day for our Islington adventure (so far September has been much nicer than August!).

That evening Joe and I had a final good-bye dinner with our friend Price, the last in his family to head home for work in New York City. We met for drinks at a local pub, then had a great meal at l’Aventura in St. Johns Wood – it’s a lovely little French restaurant just around the corner from us. Our food at l’Aventura was fabulous, from the olives to dessert. I had the lamb, which was beautifully done. Lovely atmosphere, too – quiet, warm and quaint, very nice service.

On Sept. 6 our first St. Johns Wood Women’s Club board meeting kicked off – great group of ladies with lots of fun plans for the year.

With a poorly timed tube strike (is there ever a good time) Ava and I spent half the day on Sept. 7 navigating to get to Toy Story III. Let’s just say we were determined. With our travel plans awry, we switched gears to the bus and many moons later wheeled into the mall, where we met another Ava and her mom for our movie.
It was a good one, I must say. Worth the time it took to weave our way there!

That evening I took a VERY long cab ride to join a friend and a few other ladies for an evening of burlesque at Volupte. We all dressed up and had some lovely cocktails in the bar before being shepherded downstairs for dinner and the show.

Here’s a descriptor of the venue:

This tantalising burlesque supper club will entertain you with its mesmerising dance, circus and cabaret acts.

Discreetly tucked away and yet within easy rich, Volupte is a wonderful treasure box of retro extravagance. To titillate your mouth and mind, there is a bar on the ground floor.

Past a velvet curtain, you will find yourself in a surprisingly small space: the kitchen and stage area are at the very back, while the rest of the room is occupied by small tables. The decor is slightly rough around the edges, a detail which adds to the atmosphere rather than detracting from it, and it includes contemporary elements like the elaborate wall murals and vintage tributes like images of Bettie Page and other starlets, grandma lampshades or a display of old bottles, shoes and other pre-1950s paraphernalia. Additionally, a kitsch semi-private booth is like something out of the Little Mermaid and this adds to what is a vivid vision.

The Atmosphere
Effervescent as champagne and yet smooth as velvet, Volupte has the smoky atmosphere of a decadent Moulin Rouge-esque venue but none of the seediness. Here you should definitely expect the unexpected: it is a burlesque supper club (try to actually eat before the show starts or you may end up dropping food everywhere) but burlesque is definitely not the only act on the bill. Vaudeville comedy, fire eaters, snake enchanters, circus performers, hula hoopers and even aerialists are all at home here.

The atmosphere is remarkably similar to the Au Lapin Agile, a small, ancient cabaret venue in Parisian Montmartre, which can be considered the forefather of venues like Volupte.

Dinner was good, particularly as it was accompanied by good champagne. And the show was bawdy, fun, suggestive without being lewd, if that makes sense. Plenty of skin, bare boobs with nipples decorated with sparkly things or things dangling from them and propelled in circles.

A few numbers were done solo, most in groups of 3 or 5. One woman did a fan dance, which was probably my favorite – dramatic and lovely (the fan). The women were young, a mix of shapes. One wonders if they aspire to different types of dance or theatre work? The emcee, also a woman, played the crowd well, particularly the rowdy reunion group, a mix of men and women near our table. There was one couple that looked to be on an awkward date; if that was the case, I’m thinking it was an odd venue for a first date…

September 9 marked Ava’s first day of year 1, the equivalent of Kindergarten. Drop off was happy this time as several of her friends were gathered, all smiles, in the John O’Connor room. She was beaming at pick up, so I gather it was a good first day with Miss Cox and Miss Laffy.

Meanwhile I too went to class – the first session of Thomas Hardy with Alice Leader. Frankly I was less than excited to get into his books, having been preoccupied with The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo series. But Alice's classes are always good; she’s great fun and draws a good group of interesting, intellectually stimulating women. And her field trips are spectacular.

Hardy, I’ve found, is really an enjoyable author. My favorite so far has been Tess of the D’Ubervilles.

On Sept. 10 I went to Knole w/ the St. Johns Wood Women’s Club for a tour. It was a great day out.

About the place…

Set at the heart of a timeless deer park, Knole has fascinating links with kings, queens and nobility, as well as literary connections with the novelists Vita Sackville-West and Virginia Woolf. Knole was the birthplace and childhood home of Vita Sackville-West, who went on to create the gardens at Sissinghurst. Thirteen magnificent state rooms are laid out much as they were in the 18th century to impress visitors with the wealth of the Sackville family, who still live at Knole today. The house includes world-renowned rare furniture, important paintings and the prototype of the famous Knole settee.

Knole has always excited a range of different reactions. Henry VIII liked it so much that he forced Thomas Cranmer, his Archbishop of Canterbury, to hand it to him in 1538. Yet, the following century, the diarist John Evelyn was so depressed by the greyness of this 'greate old fashion'd house' that he hurried out into the sunshine. In the 18th century, Horace Walpole was impressed by Knole's 'beautiful decent simplicity which charms one' but on a later visit decided that it 'has neither beauty nor prospects'.

These mixed emotions can partly be explained by the many faces Knole presents on different days and at different times of the year. On a dull winter's day, as you ride the crest of the knoll in front of the house and the north front looms in sight, Knole's sprawling mass of sodden Kentish ragstone strikes a sombre note. But on a sunny summer's day, the south front, with its colonnade of seven lightly coloured marble arches, dances to a very different tune.

The Sackvilles and Knole
Knole was rebuilt and then furnished in three main bursts of activity, each separated by around a hundred years. In the early 17th century, Thomas Sackville, 1st Earl of Dorset, transformed the late medieval archbishop's palace into a Renaissance mansion. Towards the end of the 17th century, his great-great-grandson, the 6th Earl, acquired Knole's unique collection of Stuart furniture and textiles through his office as Lord Chamberlain. And then, towards the end of the 18th century the 6th Earl's great-grandson, the 3rd Duke, added Old Masters bought on the Grand Tour to Italy and portraits commissioned from contemporary English artists such as Reynolds and Gainsborough.

Visitors today see a house and collection little changed since the 3rd Duke's day. By the end of the 17th century, the Sackvilles had withdrawn to private apartments on the ground floor and tended to live there rather than in the more formal, public rooms on the first floor - today's showrooms. The very fact that large areas of Knole were inhabited only intermittently from the end of the 17th century and that the furniture therefore remained under dust sheets for long periods, accounts for its miraculous survival.

On display in the Great Hall is a facsimile of the bound manuscript of Virginia Woolf's novel 'Orlando'. The novel is dedicated to Vita Sackville-West and, in the words of Vita's son, Nigel Nicolson, it is 'the longest and most charming love letter in literature'. Vita is the eponymous hero/heroine (Orlando changes gender over the four centuries in which the novel is set) and Orlando's ancestral home is a house, like Knole, with a legendary 365 rooms. The pages are threaded through with similarly specific references to Knole and to its past and present incumbents. It ends with Orlando taking possession of the house whereas, in fact, Vita had been denied ownership of her beloved Knole because the house was passed through the male line.

In 1930 Vita fell in love with Sissinghurst Castle and bought it, along with 4,000 acres of farmland. Together Vita and her husband, Harold Nicolson, made a garden which reflected their different personalities - Harold being a classicist and Vita a romantic. Today, Sissinghurst Castle Garden is also owned by the National Trust.

After coffee we had a guided tour with a very sharp little old man leading the way. Lunch was crusty bread and tomato soup, then back to London. It was a great, relaxing day out; I did manage to get Ava’s ballet slippers ready for class (why they don’t come with elastics attached is beyond me). Alas, that evening I learned I’d done them incorrectly. So much for efficiency.

The next day Joe and I headed off to the Proms, a big, very British summer event.
The Proms, more formally known as The BBC Proms, is an eight-week summer season of daily orchestral classical music concerts and other events held annually, predominantly in the Royal Albert Hall in London. Founded in 1895, each season currently consists of over 70 concerts in the Albert Hall, a series of chamber concerts at Cadogan Hall, additional Proms in the Park events (like ours) across the United Kingdom on the last night, and associated educational and children's events. In the context of classical music festivals, Jiří Bělohlávek has described The Proms as "the world's largest and most democratic musical festival".[1]

Prom is short for promenade concert, a term which arose from the original practice of audience members promenading, or strolling, in some areas of the concert hall during the concert. Promming now refers to the use of the standing areas inside the hall (the arena and gallery) for which ticket prices are much lower than for the reserved seating.

The gates opened at 5 for our Prom experience, and our group made its was into Hyde Park with the masses, landed a good picnic spot and spread out our feasts. A very civilized event and a lovely day for it, we danced, chatted and listened to a wide range of music, watching the acts on big screens around the field. Great lawn party!

Mid Sept found activites kicking in, Claire resuming Monday afternoon ballet, which is now 1 ¼ hours. Good thing it’s close to Pizza Express; Ava loves their doughballs and the occasional Monday glass of wine isn’t a bad thing.

About ballet…Miss Susan was a ballerina, now runs several ballet/dance programs around London. She oversees things and frankly isn’t the most organized person I’ve dealt with. She doesn’t do anything electronically, doesn’t write things down (i.e. shoe sizes – I’m not sure how many times we discussed Claire’s size, which is critical as she needs four different pairs for the class). It’s a mix of ballet, jazz and tap, and now that Susan’s decided the girls will stand for their exam, character dancing has been added in. Therein in addition to the 4th pair of shoes, a long black skirt with ribbons is required.

Naturally all of these costs just keep mounting up so no, the ballerina won’t be giving up dance class anytime soon.

Ava’s continuing with ballet too, a different class, different approach, not so many shoes.

On the 15th of Sept. I went to the Sargent and the Sea exhibit at the Royal Academy of Arts.

American expatriate artist John Singer Sargent (1856-1925) is best known for his glamorous society portraits. Now, for the first time in Britain, 'Sargent and the Sea' presents more than 80 paintings, drawings and watercolours that reveal a less familiar side of the artist: the seascapes and coastal scenes subjects produced in his early career during summer journeys from Paris to Brittany, Normandy and Capri, as well as two transatlantic voyages.

Great, concise exhibit with some lovely seascapes. I then wandered through Mayfair/Piccadilly on my way home as it was a great day to be out.

In the evening I gathered with my reading group at the Clifton Pub to select our upcoming reads over pub grub and wine. First up: Paulo Cuelho’s Witches of Portabello.

That same week I found my way out to the Olympia Centre, one of those big special events venues, for a Boden warehouse sale. It was a cheerful, bustling madhouse of clearance and great fun – especially as I’d arrived early in the day. No doubt not much later it became a jumble sale. I got a few great bargains after pulling all kinds of potential pieces into a big free for all “changing room,” wherein 25+ other women were donning bits and pieces and crowding around the few and far between mirrors.

Phew! I'm now mid way through September...

Summer Ends

2010-10-18T05:09:00.000-07:00

More on Weber summer adventures

As we wrapped up August back in London, we managed to keep ourselves entertained...one memorable outing: the production “Railway Children.”

With three other families, we first lunched at Giraffe (family restaurant that is well liked by Claire and Ava, particularly for their free plastic giraffes and balloons).

The play was set at Waterloo Station on the former Eurostar platform.
Having read the book earlier in summer, we were ready! The staging was obviously unique, with flat cars moving back and forth as backdrop for various scenes. We audience members perched on folding chairs along the track.

The actors moved themselves around the platform as the stage moved, and the train rolled in dramatically a few times – majestic, loud, shiny and billowing steam.
The cast members were adults who began by remembering being The Railway Children, then slipping into their roles as kids. Very well done, poignant ending.

Since there was a “kids go free to theatre” week in August, we hit two other productions before school started. One was “Burn the Floor,” a West End dance production featuring dancers from around the world. We had superb seats to take in fabulous moves, costume and synergy. The lead-in was lovely: a talented dancer who played the crowd selected a couple different men from the audience for a comedic start.

Throughout the show various dance styles were represented: flapper, 50’s, flamenco, sad songs, love songs, patriotic songs, etc. The program flew by, with Gabbi, kids and I mesmerized by all the talent we saw.

Later that week Joe and I ate at Yauatcha, a wonderful Chinese restaurant in Soho. Martin spent 20 minutes reading the wine mineu start to finish. He just handed his menu over to us as apparently he couldn’t be bothered with the food. Eventually he set his turquoise cheaters aside and ordered sherries for the table to start. Naturally we got two different types of sherries so we could pass glasses around.
Then he moved onto wine; we had an English vintage, which was quite good, and a bottle of red from France.

The food was fabulous…we sampled a little of so many flavors and differently done shrimp, pork, chicken, beef. The duck was amazing. Martin made friends with the waiter, who brought us saki to try with our food, which really does taste better with the food. I would still go with the French, the Italian, the Californian, the Chilean, the Australian, the New Zealand, the South American…wine.

And the waiter has Martin’s business card so the next time she goes to Germany she can imbide at Weingut Schweikart.

Yautcha is a bustling, cheery place that does a great business; we were, in fact, told our time was nearly up! Full of Chinese food, we made our way back to St. Johns Wood and Carluccio’s for dessert and after dinner drinks.

The next day I somehow managed to run for 1 ¾ hours…who knew.(This upcoming half-marathon does require a bit of prep.)

On the weekend the kids, Joe and I went to “Stomp,” our 2nd kids free theatre adventure. I liked my first stomp experience better, still enjoyed it but found this one really loud. May that have had anything to do with the sherry, wine, saki…
I think the kids and Joe enjoyed “Stomp” but once was enough for them.

That evening Martin and Gabbi made dinner (after also shopping for the ingredients). They (I should say Gabbi) created some wonderful crepes, which were served with a fabulous tomato/corn filling. And of course we had crepes with nutella for dessert.

On Monday the kids and I tripped out to Richmond via the tube/overground. Richmond is a lovely little town on the Thames. There the puppet barge (which I associate with its docking spot in Little Venice, a 10 minute walk away). So when I called for tickets I’m not sure why but I did ask about their location near Maida Vale when low and behold the lady told me the boat had relocated. I nearly cancelled. But she convinced me that Richmond is an easy trip so voila! We found ourselves wandering along the water, a lovely walk, on a gray, windy day to enjoy “The Hare and the Tortoise and other tales.”

Set on the barge, the theatre is small and quaint, and the stage is fabulous. Our production featured some of the most intricate marionette activity we’ve ever seen!
The kids very much enjoyed it, despite a loud, obnoxious kid in row two with some kids in row one telling her to be quiet. I’m not sure who was louder, the offender or the offended.

On our return trip we stopped at McDonald’s, much to the joy of my children. Somehow we’d missed McD’s when we were in the U.S., though I was told I promised we’d go. Clearly not my highest priority, I guess.

The next day marked the first piano lessons with Kym, who turned out to be delightful; the kids are signed up for in-home lessons! I'm not sure what I'm more excited about -- budding pianists or not having to take the kids to a piano studio in the dark, cold November and December evenings...

Wednesday we headed back to the Waterloo station area for the infamous Duck tour, which was high on Martin’s list of to-do’s. London Ducks is a squad of bright yellow, duck shaped and duck-decorated amphibious vehicles first used during WWII on the Normandy beaches.

Our duck was Mistress Quickly, who unfortunately was overloaded. Apparently there was a snafu with the number of people on the tour – one too many, even though we’d booked in. With Ava in tears and me beyond annoyed, we saw Claire, Martin and Gabbi off on their duck while we tromped off to the duck office.

I got a refund and complimentary tickets for a tour the following week, while Claire was in school and Ava still footloose and fancy-free. We assuaged our irritation with hot chocolate while we waited for our party of ducks.

From there we headed off, in the rain, to Notting Hill for pizza at a great little Italian restaurant. There we relaxed in a covered veranda and ate copious amounts of food – sardines (not the little ones in the can that Jeff Hale used to subject us to on the Reichle School bus), pizzas, pasta, bread…

We left Martin and Gabbi to look for traces of Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts while we relaxed at home.

Our last weekend of August was busy; Joe and I went to “The Merry Wives of Windsor” at the Globe Theatre on Friday night. We had a bite at the The Swan (the Globe Theatre's restaurant). The pub area has great big wooden tables that you share, and its windows overlook the Thames. A wonderful pre-Shakespeare food spot, I had a warm cheesy dish that was quite tasty.

Then we wandered over to our seats in the theatre, wood in the round as in Shakespeare’s time.

We'd opted for seats (traditionally most stood, but three hours standing, potentially in rain, didn’t appeal). Our 2nd tier seats were covered and, recommended by colleagues of Joe, who are Globe members, offered a great view. The performance was very entertaining, humorous, fun to watch. The perfect Shakespeare play for the likes of me (light!).

About “Merry Wives:”

Imagining that Mistress Ford and Mistress Page have each fallen for him, the fat knight Sir John Falstaff decides to seduce them both, as much for their husbands’ money as for their personal charms. Wise to the old rogue’s tricks, the women turn the tables on him with a series of humiliating assignations and a very damp, extremely smelly laundry basket.

On Saturday we headed to Cambridge for the weekend. There we ditched our things at the Crowne Plaza (gotta love a Crowne) and headed downtown. What a lovely little city, easily walkable. First: lunch at a little deli for good sandwiches and a local feel. Then off to King’s College Chapel, one of the most iconic buildings in the world and a splendid example of late Gothic (Perpendicular) architecture. It was started in 1446 by Henry VI (1421-71) and took over a century to build. It has the largest fan vault ceiling in the world and some of the finest medieval stained glass.

It’s spectacular. We also got to enjoy lovely views of the grounds and other parts of the King’s College campus as we made our way in and out of the Chapel.
Since the weather was sunny, we headed off to punt the river.

About punting in Cambridge:

A punt is a flat-bottomed boat which does not have a keel, and is propelled by means of a long pole. Punts were introduced as pleasure craft in Edwardian times, since then punting has become one of the most popular ways to see the famous bridges and colleges along the River Cam.

The Cam rises in Ashwell in Hertfordshire, progressing northwards to Cambridge. It then flows into the flat area of the Fens and onwards to Ely and King's Lynn. There it joins the sea at the Wash in Norfolk. Cambridge's humble beginnings relied strongly on this river connection when King's Lynn used to be one of busiest sea ports in England. Goods would travel inland to Cambridge which slowly grew as an inland port.

Some of the first colleges to be founded were built right on the banks of the river. On the riverside the colleges would benefit from this major trade route into the town of Cambridge. The result today is the "Backs", a one mile stretch of river that supports some of finest examples of architecture in England. Altogether there are 8 colleges and 9 bridges. These include Queens' College with the Mathematical Bridge, King's College with its famous chapel, and the Bridge Of Sighs at St. John's college.

Our punter was a male college student (most punters we saw were young men and women). He perched on back of the boat in bare feet, steering and pushing with a long pole. We learned some Cambridge trivia (which I’ve since forgotten) and relaxed as we watched the experience punters navigate their way through the congested waterway, with numerous less experienced boaters nearly losing their seats or hitting their heads on the bridges above.

After punting we hit the Fitzwilliam Museum and were steered toward the Egyptian exhibit. We were also provided with some activity sheets, so the kids had fun looking for various jewels, markings, etc. in the cases. Then Claire and I headed up to the art section (the place has a great collection) and Joe and Ava visited the military displays.

Afterward we window shopped a bit before heading back to the hotel to relax before dinner. En route we passed Jamie Oliver’s restaurant, which wasn’t terribly busy but smelled fabulous, and the menu looked good. We asked about reservations, were told to come early and wait. So we dissed our other res to hit Jamie’s at 6:30. But by then there was a line out the door. We were encouraged, however, when we were soon sent to the bar.

After a long wait, just as Ava was at the end of her no-food rope, they shepherded us to our table. Good food, not out of this world memorable, but very good. Great bustling ambience with a good view of the kitchen at work. I had a very tasty pasta seafood dish, the kids naturally gravitated toward pasta, and I can’t remember Joe’s meal of choice.

I recall a unique, orange-flavored tiramisu. It was tasty, though not my favorite style of tiramisu.

I’d give Jamie a B, the service was a little flat and machinated, the food good but quite doable at home.

Sunday Joe and I took turns walking to the highest spot in Cambridge (it’s a great biking city since it’s pancake flat). Castle Hill is a small, grassy hill a few minutes from downtown. Apparently in Anglo-Saxon times there was a settlement on the hill, and in 1068 the Normans built a castle on it.

After a leisurely breakfast at the hotel, we enjoyed some more of the city sites, sat out the deluge of rain that hit mid-day, had some appetizers and beers before making our way to the train station and back to London. Lovely weekend out.

And then…school days!

Blog not dead, hanging by a thread...

2010-10-16T05:47:00.000-07:00

Ken, this belated update is for you.

I must confess I'm over-scheduled (I know, aren't we all). Thus blogging has been on my mind, just not on my agenda, I guess.

So over the next few days I'll make an attempt at catching up, starting w/ this summer entry. Cheers and enjoy autumn; we are!

Summer with Webers...

Wee!!! It’s been a fast paced summer! After returning from Berlin we did some laundry and packed…with a little Henry Moore, Shakespeare and dentistry inbetween.

The Henry Moore exhibit, which was at the Tate Britain, was a must-see after Ava studied old Henry at Abercorn. Her class made statues in his style (woman lying down was what she came home with, a couple parts having fallen off in the two-block walk from school home. One wonders if Henry had the same trouble keeping his art together.).

To get a better sense not only of the artist’s mastery of sculpture, in particular, but also the greatness in size of his works, we three schlepped off to the Tate on a Friday afternoon. Great time to go, too – while everyone else is having cocktails or getting ready for dinner.

Claire’s decided we’ll go again and catch pizza at the Pizza Express next door. Not sure what she’s more motivated about: the art or PE’s dough balls and pasta.

But I digress.

Henry Moore’s exhibit was fabulous:

Radical, experimental and avant-garde, Henry Moore (1898–1986) was one of Britain's greatest artists. This exhibition took a fresh look at his work and legacy, presenting over 150 stone sculptures, wood carvings, bronzes and drawings.

Moore rebelled against his teachers' traditional views of sculpture, instead taking inspiration from non-Western works he saw in museums. He pioneered carving directly from materials, evolving his signature abstract forms derived from the human body. This exhibition presents examples of the defining subjects of his work, such as the reclining figure, mother and child, abstract compositions and drawings of wartime London.

The works are situated in the turbulent ebb and flow of twentieth-century history, sometimes uncovering a dark and erotically charged dimension that makes us look at them in a new light. The trauma of war, the advent of psychoanalysis, new ideas of sexuality, primitive art and surrealism all had an influence on Moore's work.

Highlights of the show included a group of key reclining figures carved in Elm, which illustrated the development of this key image over his career. Moore was an Official War Artist and his drawings of huddled Londoners sheltering from the onslaught of the Blitz captured the popular imagination, winning him a place in the hearts of the public.

We followed Henry with another arty event over the weekend: MacBeth (for families) at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre. It was a lovely summer day – we scored! Actually late spring/summer through July were most excellent here in London. Mostly sunshiny, warm days wherein I actually contemplated wearing shorts…

MacBeth was delightfully fun and in a great venue – the theatre is in the middle of Regent’s park, with trees and greenery around fitting into the staging. Here’s a description of the production:

A spellbinding concoction of witches, battles, ghosts and murder, Macbeth continues our programme of Shakespeare plays re-imagined for family audiences.

Three witches foretell that Macbeth will be crowned King. Driven by ambition and encouraged by his ruthless wife, he secretly assassinates the current monarch to realise the prophecy. However, as Macbeth claims the throne, he is haunted by the demons of his past and his fate is set.

Condensed, yet still using original language and text, Macbeth is one of Shakespeare’s most popular plays with young people.

And it did indeed keep the interest of the four of us. Again and again I am astounded at the level of talent in this city. I also love observing how productions are staged; in this case with a big board with balcony in the back ground, steps leading up/down. Pictures were construed by actors on the board throughout the production to help audience members follow the story. Great music and effects.
From there we wandered back to Baker Street and had lunch at Nando’s, which specializes in chicken. Fast food meets service restaurant. Not bad, not a must hit. BUT good w/ the young crowd.

Before leaving for our annual MT/WI adventure we did manage to make it to the dentist to get the routine list of tooth-related must do’s. (Who I am kidding, most of them are “should nots,” as in should not use Listerine, should not drink juice but if one must, use a straw; should not drink too much sparkling water, should not have chocolate milk…Frankly we break all the rules. May as well add chewing tobacco to the routine.)

It seems we’ve found, in the country where teeth aren’t looked upon as a priority, a VERY particular dentist. Who I actually very much like and respect and seems to be on the same page as our NC dentist. Yes, one can find incredible talent in all professions in all parts of the world, just some more in abundance than others...

Then we were off to the US! This time the kids and I made off to Salt Lake City via Denver, one long flight, one short one. We walked onto the 2nd one as boarding was wrapping up after passing through immigration and retrieving and re-checking our baggage. Oh the processes.

Denver was a friendly and I’d say folksy welcome. Maybe because we were greeted at passport control by a smiley volunteer in a 10-gallon hat.

Salt Lake’s airport, as always, clean and bright with more families (but is that because I just expect there to be more kids in Utah…). And of course it always feels like the air is healthy when you hit the west.

Soon we were at Jim and Donna’s, where we helped wrapped up a small birthday celebration with their close friends. After a snack we tunneled into Donna’s down comforters and slept some.

I got up early (no point to trying to convince myself to sleep) and hit the hills (translation: mountain) behind Jim and Donna’s house. Great way to start the day and take my breath away. Quite literally. The altitude is WAY up there. (4,327 feet in the valley; at least 1,000 more where the trails are…).

After hiking amidst other hikers, runners (uber runners), bikers and dog walkers, I found the kids up and eating oatmeal with Donna. An aside: Donna’s kitchen is full of the healthiest food imaginable. No wonder she and Jim look they’re 40.

Question: if I continue with the coffee, red wine/white wine, copious amounts of cheese and chocolate, the sour cream and chive dip I've discovered at tesco and the French food at our two favorite restaurants, might I look ageless?

As for edibility of Donna's cupboard, Claire’s decided she doesn’t do soya milk. We did find, amid the vitamins, some peanut butter (organic, all natural probably made from babied peanuts, of course...which I must say is also my preference). And some coffee.

From Donna’s we headed off in our fine rental car to SLC’s Discovery Museum. (oh to be behind the wheel on a wide road with everyone driving on the right side...and in a city laid out on a grid with Mormon Church in center. Makes sense, doesn’t it)

Great stuff, the museum: 3 floors of interactive kid displays. Perfect for the jet-lagged adult and children. At lunchtime we wandered over to a food court, then through the pedestrian shopping area, found Ben & Jerry’s and a perch over a very popular fountain.

Back to Discovery for a bit, then to find the car. Which we lost. Amazing how many silver cars there are in a carpark when you’ve lost yours, isn’t it. Eventually it did re-surface. Not to worry, I wasn’t panicked. Too tired to really care, I suppose.
Back at Donna’s, we collapsed on the patio, revived for Tex Mex at a fun local spot with Jim, Donna and Aunt Claire (who of course looks fabulous. Un-ageable and hip in her 70’s).

The next day I again hiked high in the hills; Salt Lake is set in such a great spot (weather wise and scenically). After breakfast we re-grouped a bit, then headed off to Donna’s museum – The Utah Museum of Art, where she is a curator for the American exhibits. It’s a great space at the university. She gave us a short tour, showed us where she works, we met some of her colleagues, did some art kid activities, then met up w/ George, my dear friend from college.

We had a long lunch catching up at the museum café, then ran some errands and crashed at Donna’s before a wonderful dinner, again with Jim, Donna and Aunt Claire.
It was the perfect night to be out and the kids convinced Jim to turn on the sprinklers. I don’t think it took too much convincing. They seemed to connect beautifully with him.

And on our final morning in SLC I once again hit the hills – would love to be able to hike like this regularly. I guess Primrose Hill in London, while offering great views and a good pop to the step, just isn’t the same.

We had a leisurely morning, the kids hiked around the neighborhood with Jim as he went into work late, and then we set off for Idaho and our next visit: Jeanette’s.

I must say it’s fabulous to drive those interstates out west when the summer sun is glorious, the clouds high and lofty and the dominant feature is blue, blue sky. It also helps that the roads aren’t crowded, so one can fairly sail through the valleys and enjoy the mountain scenes as they gain in majesty and alternatively recess into the background.

Eventually we stopped for fast food someplace, much to the kids’ joy. And we sailed into Jeanette’s driveway sometime in the afternoon for some serious playtime with her boys. She and her family have a lovely little spot in Idaho, sharing a great view and the lovely peace of a flowing creek out back with few and far between neighbors.

The trampoline was the toy of choice for all, and the little Eva dog got plenty of attention throughout our visit. We stayed overnight, so I got to run up the road behind Jeanette’s house, which quickly turns to a dirt, little used route. So it was a fabulously quiet run, with only a duck crashing out of the willows as I turned the bend. Upon return a storm was lighting up the sky. Later we enjoyed great views of rainbows from Jeanette’s second floor kitchen.

After homemade pancakes, sausage and eggs, we lazed a bit, then headed off to Montana. And that drive is delightful: valleys, more imposing mountains, Clark Canyon dam. And probably one of the greenest Julies I’ve ever seen. A cool, damp spring lent itself beautifully to the lush greenery in fields and meadows surrounding Dillon.

Our Subway lunch found us running into my sister and niece (small town). And our next stop, Safeway, found us running into Romeo and a friend. Really small town. Or we just have Marchesseault radar.

After slamming some groceries into the car (nice just to pull into a parking lot and load up once in a while…my mind is now programmed to think: how am I going to get this home and “ooh – better put that back, I can’t carry it all…”

Off to the ranch we went to catch up with my family. We had a busy, enjoyable week…

Highlights:

- visit with Aunt Estelle, who unfortunately was a bit housebound while we were there. So I swept up some of Mom’s leftovers, a few steaks and no-salt steak seasoning (she’s also temporarily – I hope – on a no salt diet. Though I must say the Mrs. Dash grilling seasoning isn’t bad!). I took over her kitchen, made us a steak lunch and we had a nice chat. She was thrilled to savor the pie for later. Never mind what salt/fat etc. it contains.

- A hospital visit with Ron Benson, who unfortunately has some rare disease that requires periodic IV treatments. We were able to help pass the time for him and Marilyn; hopefully he’ll have a swift recovery or at least get some relief from the symptoms.

- A great chat with long-time family friend Marilyn Begin, who seems to be doing well. It’s already been nearly two years since her husband, Howard, passed away. Definitely a void without his humor and friendship.

- A superb picnic at Aspen Creek Campground, one of my favorite spots. We were joined by Uncle Tex, cousin Sharon and her husband Jay, Romeo, David, Jenifer and Grace, Mom and Dad. We had a lovely day for it and an amazing spread, as always. There is no better cook than my mother. Really. Have her potato salad and you’ll be won over. Or the pie. There is no better pie.

- The Meine cabin, where we’ve stayed the last couple of visits. It’s a great little 2-roomer, built in the 40’s or 50’s, I suppose. So quiet at night you can hear a pin drop, other than coyotes our first night. The cabin is set in a draw with sagebrush around, no doubt a rattle snake or two not far away. Great place to relax and read in the rocker on the front porch, have pancakes for breakfast (which of course we did) and hike the hills and trails around.

- A stop at the infamous book store. Dillon has a great independent little book shop, right next to the Pategonia outlet, which can be a good stop, too.

- Dinner at the Wagon Wheel Café in Twin Bridges. Great tomato soup, the wagon wheels with Xmas tree lights do let you know you are in Twin Bridges.

- GREAT weather. Not too hot but no need for a jacket. Sun sun and more sun. Love Montana in the summer.

Our week in Wisconsin was very nice, too. This time we had two families in our cabin, a recent addition to the rental fold. So we had a bit more space, and of course spent most of our time outside, catching up with family members (nearly 40 of us this time around!) and enjoying Wisconsin activities:

- Kayaking (I do love the kayaks on the lake)

- Sitting by the lake (I’m not convinced I need to get in, unless someone is in peril). It’s critical that I take up my position in deck chair and have my yearly chat with Dave.

- Biking. Though the resort’s mountain bikes are in less than great condition (at the same time, one doesn’t have to shift gears – the bikes have minds of their own), they do have wheels and it’s great fun to check out trails and roads that all seem to intersect at numerous points here there and everywhere.

- The bonfire. There’s something special about fire next to water and s’mores.

- The welcome dinner, where the beer flows from a keg and brats and we can all sink into a week of R&R.

- A morning date with my husband. This time we walked into town for pancakes at the Wolfpack Café (they’re fabulous). We did get drenched on the return – the only rainy day in WI during our week-long vacation.

- Ice cream at Cathy’s. By car or by boat, it’s a favorite destination.
As for the kids, they love catching up with their cousins, playing in the lake and sand pit, fishing and water skiing successes and attempts.

Another great week of memories made, and plans in place to enjoy in 2011!

Our departure from Wisconsin was uneventful until we got through security, when our flight was cancelled. So back to the check-in desk we went and were handed new tickets for later flights out.

Thus we commandeered a cab and headed for downtown Wassau to peruse a bit. After some ice cream and shopping we made our way back to the humble Wisconsin airport for a second attempt at departure. This time, success. And frankly the arrival back into London – later in the day – worked out better for all of us.

On a side note, we had plenty of ice cream in Wisconsin. Appropriate to the dairy state, I suppose – boy when you ask for a small, even a kiddie scoop, you get more than you bargained for. They must dole out the carton when you ask for a 2 scooper.

I must say I was rather devastated with the weather upon return. I was still in white Capris/tank top mode, given even at its coldest Wisconsin was a balmy 75+.

London had tanked to the 50’s/60’s, gray, not rainy really but breezy and not warm. Still, I defied all forecasts and donned my flip flops and sun dresses for gadding about town. Clearly I was in the minority as I looked at boots, jeans and (gulp) scarves. Could it be? Already? Thankfully God must have heard me; September was a lot nicer – some warm, sunny days that at least seemed to prolong that summer feeling.

But I digress on weather on this non-tropical island.

Our 2nd half of August was really fun. We took the time adjustment business slowly, slept in (kids rose at noon once, and only after prodding from me), stayed up late, had some mornings of pancakes and nighties. Our dear friends Martin and Gabbi flew in from Germany and stayed 10 days. While that sounds like a long time for guests, they’re lovely people to have around…they come bearing gifts (including wine), they play with the kids, they made dinner one night, they took us out for a tremendous dinner (more on that later), they brought me flowers…frankly they can come as often as they like!

In the early part of their visit we showed them around St. Johns Wood and Maida Vale, our local stomping grounds, stopping off for an afternoon beer at the Warrington, one of those very London-esque pubs. The weather smiled upon us, so we enjoyed the outdoors while sipping and catching up.

One evening we headed out to the Dickens Inn, a huge complex housing I think three different restaurants to accommodate a wide array of tastes/budgets, I guess. We went for the grill, since it was supposed to have the best view of the Tower of London/Thames area.

And I must say, it definitely had lovely character, a stone building along the water, gorgeous lighting and balconies, big wooden floor and tables inside. The food was good, too; the kids shared a steak that they absolutely devoured. Could it be because they are steak-deprived in London or hooked on steak from their recent Montana experience???

From Dickens we headed off to the Tower for the Ceremony of the Keys…

The Ceremony of the Keys is the traditional locking up of the Tower of London and has taken place on each and every night, without fail, for at least 700 years. The importance of securing this fortress for the night is still very relevant because, although the Monarch no longer resides at this royal palace, the Crown Jewels and many other valuables still do!

We had a great night for it – warm and clear, and the ambience of the Tower at night is spectacular. The light reflecting off the water, the Thames in the moonlight, the silhouettes of the buildings against the river, all of it was beautiful, and it was so quiet, in contrast to its typically tourist-filled bustle.

We hovered with a number of others waiting for the Beefeater guard to let us in. Eventually we were shepherded in, led into the tower and given a bit of history on the buildings and ceremony.

Several minutes later a very regimented ritual took place, with guards barking orders loudly, soldiers in their tall black bearskin hats marching loudly to and fro, snapping their rifles in and out of various positions. A big set of keys was escorted in, more loud barking, marching, snapping taking place.

And not long after we were escorted back out. A very good little London outing.

Also that week the kids and I headed off with friends to Great Missenden and the Roald Dahl Museum & Story Centre. He (Dahl) wrote Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and so many more great books, several of which we’d recently read, we had arranged to spend the better part of the day, training it from Marylebone station.

Our first priority was of course lunch, which we had at the centre, then made our way through the interactive exhibits. (Kids could create various types of artwork, record their voices telling stories, sit in Roald Dahl’s writing hut, put words together with magnets to create different stories, etc.

In the afternoon we trooped up to one of the special activity rooms for a workshop with illustrator Chris Tichborne, who worked on Fantastic Mr. Fox, Cora and all kinds of other well known animated films.

Unfortunately, the fire alarm went off as soon as Chris started talking so we all (ALL people in the place, and there were many) trooped out, down through main street Great Missenden, past all kinds of little shops and cafes, to end up near the fire station. No action there, though. Apparently fire calls are answered by a different station a few miles away. Eventually we heard sirens. But then of course the firemen had to walk through the premises to ensure no sparks.

So we were hastily arranged into a walking group to go back through town and up to Dahl’s gravesite. Lovely walk and his grave has giant’s footsteps (BFG) leading down to it. Visitors to his gravesite had left coins and small tokens on the stone slab, so we added a few and then were shepherded back to the museum for the continuation of our workshop.

Which was very good, I might add. Who knew there was so much laborious detail involved in moving puppets – which are specially made and very valuable (i.e. one puppet worth 9,000 pounds…) – ever so slightly and so frequently as to create a realm of action and emotion.

Chris does what is called stop-motion animation (essentially moving a puppet ever so slightly, then having the shot done, then moving it again ever so slightly, having the shot done, etc. for countless frames, which then create a short piece of animation – he said several animators work together to create films, and because each of them have different styles/personalities, sometimes they can identify one another’s work through the motions of the puppets).

He demonstrated how stop-animation works with a couple different puppets, and kids got to come up and help him – Claire moved an arm slightly, for example, as he made a short “film” of one of the puppets doing a wave.

Great demonstration, then we went back and perused the museum some more, stopped in the gift shop on the way out and wound our way back to the train station and back to London.

Phew! Must update this more frequently.

Since Scotland...

2010-07-17T13:38:00.000-07:00

Our arrival home from Scotlandwas uneventful, on time, all that good stuff. Greeting us in the garden was the summer concert. Apparently there is a cadre of good musicians in the neighborhood who gather to throw a nice late afternoon concert in our back yard. We threw open the windows and enjoyed their talent.

I must say I love the garden, despite its limitations (essentially no balls, no bikes, no pets (thank heavens on that one for us non-pet owners) etc. The "no no no" rule isn't limited to our neighborhood garden; many parks here have plenty of restrictions too. I get some of them but there is a point at which I maintain it is just grass and should be used...

ANYWAY...as for the week after our train trip, Ava wrapped up Reception at Abercorn, seemed to have a great year, ended with a long drawn out good-bye, as did Claire at ASL.

Hers began Tuesday with a "dress as you wish" and bring something to share party. So we sent fruit and Belle on her scooter.

I believe she had a great day and a load of sugar.

Meanwhile Claire and I had a lovely time at Hampton Court Palace...

Hampton Court Palace is a royal palace in the London Borough of Richmond upon Thames in south west London; it has not been lived in by the British royal family since the 18th century. The palace is located 11.7 miles south west of Charing Cross and upstream of Central London on the River Thames. It was originally built for Cardinal Wolsey, a favourite of King Henry VIII, circa 1514; in 1529, as Wolsey fell from favour, the palace was passed to the King, who enlarged it.

The following century, William III's massive rebuilding and expansion project intended to rival Versailles was begun. Work halted in 1694, leaving the palace in two distinct contrasting architectural styles, domestic Tudor and Baroque. While the palace's styles are an accident of fate, a unity exists due to the use of pink bricks and a symmetrical, albeit vague, balancing of successive low wings.

One highlight was a tour of the kitchens wherein we were in the "servant" group (which meant we were informed of how we would have been treated as Henry VIII and his royal entourage blew through and consumed all the food and game in the area for a month before plundering on to the next royal property).

We checked out wings of the palace dedicated to various times of his life (young Henry, for example), saw re-enactments of events leading up to his sixth (and final) wedding, had lunch in the Tiltyard (originally used for jousting) eventually meandered back to retrieve Ava.

The following day she and I were off to Paddington Rec for her 2nd annual Abercorn sports day, which the prior week she informed me she DID NOT want to attend. However, this particular Wed. saw her asking me repeatedly WHEN we were going to leave for sports day. Claire opted out entirely, so I whisked her off to ASL for a one off day at sports camp.

Both kids, I think, enjoyed the day outdoors. After Ava's rousing round of games (which involved bouncing on rubber horses, relays, carrying water through obstacle courses, etc.) we picknicked with Abercorn friends. Later, along with Claire, we capped the day off with ice cream at Gelato Mia.

On Thursday, after Ava finished school early (begs the question: why bother with the 8:30 to 11:10 day...) the kids convinced me that we HAD to go to one of those filthy indoor play places.

I let myself be convinced, given how rarely I let the opportunity crop up.

This time: Bramley's. Which isn't terribly easy to get to, especially with new tube work. But make our way we did, and the kids proceeded to get their socks blackened while having a ball.

Friday found us at the zoo, after having eyes checked. I discovered the fine NHS covers eye exams for kids, and given I wore glasses/contacts forever, I think it wise to check in on the sight business.

Dr. Shuyler (a very thorough German opthomologist with the 3-D eye photo equipment that I quite like) pronounced both kids with good vision, thankfully.

The zoo was good, as usual, and we had a great day for it. A few hours later we opted for the canal boat ride back, happily drifting our way to Little Venice.

Joe and I ended the day with friends at our favorite French restaurant. Love their food. LOVE it.

And for the weekend, low key on all counts.

Then off to Centre Parcs! Apparently this is a wildly popular vacation in various parts of Europe. In the UK there are 5 CP campuses. We met up w/ friends at one near Warminster, known as Longleat.

A short train journey and we were soon checking out bikes. The place is huge, with hundreds of cabins that accomodate up to eight. And biking/walking is how everyone gets around. Our particular Centre Parcs was quite hilly so we decided it best that Ava would be in a trailer behind me.

Thus I had a mountain bike w/ 50+ pounds of Ava plus trailer plus asundry other items throughout the week. Let's just say these legs were tired -- in a good way -- at the end of the day.

Day one: we zipped our collective children -- 4 total -- off to a quick lunch then art program, some biking, settling in and dinner at Strada (Italian chain). Good food, mediocre service. Portions were great other than for the 3 girls who all ordered pasta no sauce. Somehow their pasta seemed to be a plate for one split 3 ways?

Day two found us dividing and conquering, Kathy with the big kids off to their trail ride, Ava off to a creative clown workshop. She had a lovely painted face and various clown crafts at the end of her session.

While Kathy got pampered at the spa in the afternoon, I took the kids to the mega pool complex and a couple hours later we re-surfaced, crashed at our cabin for a bit and headed off to dinner at a Spanish tapas place. Good food, better service.

Wed.: my turn for the spa. Can I just say I could live in a spa. Who couldn't?!? Peaceful, warm atmostphere, big fluffy robes, nice spa music and someone who doesn't talk while massaging well. My back LOVES every minute of it.

In the afternoon Ava had another craft program, Claire and the other kids and Kathy attempted to do laser tag but were thwarted. First, not enough participants, then rain and wasps attacked their contenders. Happily they didn't attack our group.

So we hit the playground before convincing Cafe Rouge to seat us for dinner...the pancake joint thwarted us. Hmph!

Thursday was my favorite -- we played a round of miniature golf in the morning and in the afternoon did some tree trekking. This involved climbing up a tree onto a series of rope courses which got progressively higher and more challenging. All of them wobbled; the most challenging was a single thin rope we inched across while hanging onto ropes hanging loosely from above.

At one point we had to leap between two platforms, and the grand finale was free fall jump.

Yes, we were attached to harnesses the entire time.

Definitely an adrenalin adventure. And very cool (once complete of course).

From the tree tops the kids tried their hand at roller skating, and then it was time for our last dinner, this time at Grand Cafe. Great space, food was fine, kids enjoyed the live music.

And Friday we were off after a quick dip! Not a bad way to spend the week, and as close to camping as I need to get. My how I've removed myself from those early 20's days when I camped in a tent for several days on end. Highlights there included really good red meat over the grill and beer cooled in the creek. Same creek I hauled my bar of Ivory into for the most rapid baths I've ever had. Yes, I was the only one willing to turn blue for the sake of cleanliness.

Today we enjoyed an outing to the Banqueting House, where Charles I was executed. Built in the 1600's, it's still used today for state functions. The ceiling, painted by Peter Paul Rubens, is fabulous.

From there we stopped at Claire and my favorite book store -- London's oldest.

And tomorrow we'll get ready for Berlin and the Hilton. Much as the cabin experience is a nice diversion, I'll be delighted to enjoy the city break and the hotel. It won't be long before the coyotes will be howling in Montana...

Scotland

2010-07-09T00:19:00.000-07:00

Happy Belated Fourth of July!!!

It’s slight anticlimactic here. Given we woke up in Edinburgh, Scotland, at the Radisson Blu and spent a few hours traveling back to London, there wasn’t much opportunity for burgers on the Barbie. Experiencing the fireworks vicariously.
Suffice it to say we had a great day, though! Anytime you can wake up in on vacation Scotland and the weather is warm, it’s a happy time.

The girls and I left London Thursday morning via the fine East Coast trainline. Shortly before 2 we were checking into our hotel (8 minutes late due to a freight train in front of us. We were reminded of this apparent infraction several times en route. Hence I’ll pass on the 8 minute debacle. X%@ freight train!

Joe rolled in shortly thereafter; actually we ran into him by the bus mecca as we were gathering our tickets for sight seeing. He was on the airport charter (doesn’t that sound more glamorous than bus), having just landed from London. Prior to that Charlotte. Long day for the J-O-E.

Once settled into the Radisson we headed for the Castle. It’s on one end of Edinbrough’s Royal Mile, the palace is at the other. Lovely walk up to the Castle as the weather was warm, breezy and sunny. (I expected chilly wind and rain; what a pleasant surprise.)

About the castle…

Edinburgh’s Castle rock has been a stronghold for over 3000 years.

Archaeologists found evidence for human occupation of the Castle Rock reaching back to 900 BC, the late Bronze Age. During the Roman occupation of Scotland in the 1st and 2nd centuries AD, it was a thriving settlement. In those far-off days they called the place Din Eidyn, ‘the stronghold of Eidyn’. Then came the invading Angles, around AD 638, and ever since then the rock has been known by its English name - Edinburgh.

In the Middle Ages Edinburgh became Scotland’s chief royal castle - seat of royalty, headquarters of the sheriff of Edinburgh, military garrison and storehouse of the royal gun train, and repository of the nation’s crown jewels and state records.
Impressive buildings were constructed, including the 12th-century St Margaret’s Chapel, the oldest building in Edinburgh, David’s Tower, built for David II, Robert the Bruce’s son, in the 1370s, and the monumental great hall of James IV, opened in 1511. But the long and bitter Wars of Independence with the ‘auld enemy’, England, took their toll, and the castle endured siege upon siege; Edward I, Edward III and Henry VIII all did their utmost to batter down the walls.

In 1566 Mary Queen of Scots gave birth to James VI in the royal palace within the castle. The tiny bed-closet still survives, a room that has a special significance for Great Britain, for in 1603 James VI became also James I of England - the ‘Union of the Crowns’. The departure of the Scottish court for London saw much of the royal ‘glitter’ go from the castle. Thereafter the stronghold became little more than a garrison fortress and arsenal. The last sovereign to sleep there was Charles I in 1633, prior to his coronation as king of Scots.

The Jacobite siege of 1745, during which Bonnie Prince Charlie held court at Holyrood Palace but could not wrest the castle from the Hanoverian King George II, proved to be the last. Since that time, the ancient fortress has continued to serve as an active army base, but has since found new roles - as a major visitor attraction, as home of the Scottish National War Memorial and two proud Scottish regiments (the Royal Scots and the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards), and as host of the world-famous Edinburgh Military Tattoo.

In 1996 the Stone of Destiny, Scotland’s coronation stone, was placed in the Crown Room alongside the nation’s Crown Jewels (the Honours of Scotland), following its return from Westminster after a space of 800 years. In 1995 the Old and New Towns of Edinburgh were inscribed as a World Heritage Site, and the castle remains its most important building.

The most laughable part of our castle tour was when one of the guards blew into the 12th century chapel with a big bright red umbrella, plonked it down on the altar and poked through a nearby closet.

Following our two-hour audio-led guide through the castle, we meandered through town, regrouped a bit and headed off to dinner. Destination: La Favorita. One of those restaurants that looked pretty close on the map…anyway, after a good long walk we found ourselves at a bustling Italian restaurant with friendly staff and AMAZING pizza. AMAZING. The kids of course signed up for pasta. We all highly recommend La Favorita. With a cab back.

Friday

I started the day out with a walk around town, managed to get lost and found. Great town to wander as the architecture is very stately, bridges and green spaces abound, lots of viewpoints of the surrounding hills and waterways.

We then hit the fine Radisson breakfast buffet, well liked by all. Hashbrowns and bacon: right up Claire’s alley. Very good sausages, I must say.
From the Rad we headed off to catch the first tour bus out to the Royal Yacht Brittania:

Plans to build a new Royal Yacht to replace Victoria and Albert III began during the reign of King George VI. But The King died in 1952, four months before the keel of the Yacht was laid. His daughter, Princess Elizabeth succeeded him to the throne and the new Queen together with her husband, Prince Philip, took a guiding hand in the design of the Yacht, personally approving plans prepared by Sir Hugh Casson, Consultant Architect, and selecting furniture, fabrics and paintings.

No matter where Britannia was in the world, however exotic or remote a location, stepping on to the deck of the Royal Yacht was always a home-coming for The Queen. Furnished to her personal taste, each room was filled with photographs of her children, treasured family heirlooms, much-loved personal possessions and gifts from across the globe. This was the ship that, even with its full complement of around 300 Royal Yachtsmen and Royal Household staff, The Queen named as the one place where she could truly relax.
AN AMBASSADOR ABROAD
The Royal Yacht Britannia has helped to make The Queen the most travelled monarch the world has ever known. Not only has The Queen and her family travelled the world on Britannia, the world - its statesmen and leaders - has visited them on board. From Sydney to Samoa, The Queen's guests have been entertained just as they would be at a royal palace on British soil.
For a state visit some five tonnes of luggage, including everything from The Queen's jewels to the famous bottles of Malvern water for Her Majesty's tea, would be brought on board. With The Queen came up to 45 members of the Royal Household, who together with Britannia's Officers and Yachtsmen ensured that each visit ran like clockwork and that no detail was overlooked.
As well as hosting royal banquets and receptions, Britannia was an ambassador for British business, promoting trade and industry around the globe. Indeed the Overseas Trade Board estimates that £3 billion has been made for the Exchequer as a result of commercial days on Britannia between 1991 and 1995.
A ROMANTIC RETREAT
For four royal couples, Britannia was to provide a honeymoon sanctuary before the onset of married life in the world's most photographed family. Princess Margaret and Anthony Armstrong-Jones were the first royal honeymooners to enjoy Britannia's inimitable star treatment when, in 1960, the Yacht took them on a 6,000 mile voyage to the Caribbean. Princess Anne and Captain Mark Phillips were next to honeymoon on Britannia cruising the West Indies in 1973. In 1981 the Prince and Princess of Wales flew to Gibraltar to meet Britannia at the start of their sixteen-day honeymoon voyage in the Mediterranean. Five years later Britannia hosted her final honeymoon for the Duke and Duchess of York who spent five days aboard the Yacht cruising around the Azores.

We had a very cool audio guide tour (is there a theme here) of the yacht, parked alongside a mall (auspicious to be nestled up next to Debenham’s). From there we trooped through said Debenham’s and back to the double decker tour bus. Great day for that (the bus) I might add – we got some sun, wind and a little Scottish humor on the tour round the city.

Back in town we opted for a quick pasta lunch at a local joint; kids got the royal pasta w/ cheese sauce treatment from the chef/owner and we then made our way to Camera Obscura, a very cool 5-level attraction.

The Camera Obscura show is a fascinating and highly amusing way to see the city and learn about its history. This unique experience has delighted and intrigued people for over 150 years. From inside this mysterious Victorian rooftop chamber, you see live moving images of Edinburgh projected onto a viewing table through a giant periscope. Pick people up on your hands, squash them to a pulp and even make the traffic climb over paper bridges.

Our friendly guide will entertain you while telling stories of Edinburgh, past and present, in an engaging and informative way. Our visitors are truly amazed at how, in this age of high technology, a simple array of mirror, lenses and daylight can produce this incredible panorama.

The kids loved the place, particularly the “photo” shadows they made on the wall. Oh and superimposing their eyes and smiles on a monkey, a baby, etc.

From Camera Obscura we were off to the other end of the Royal Mile and the Palace. Another lovely site, complete w/ audio guide.

Founded in 1498 by James IV, Holyrood Palace has witnessed some of the most dramatic episodes in Scottish History. One famous face linked to Holyrood Palace is that of Mary Queen of Scots.

Mary Queen of Scots married the Dauphin of France (heir to the throne) at 15 and became a widow at 19. She returned to Scotland and was crowned at Holyrood Palace as the Queen of Scots. Dramatic events unfolded within the walls of Holyrood including the stabbing of her Italian secretary David Rizzio.

The apartments of Mary Queen of Scots at Holyrood, including the spot where Rizzio was stabbed 57 times, are open to visitors. The Palace at Holyrood is of elegant design. In the main court there is a copy of the ornamental stone fountain in Linlithgow Palace.

Holyrood Palace has known some distressful times after the Union of England and Scotland. Reconstruction had to be carried out several times and court hadn't been held at the Palace by a monarch for some 170 years before George IV had finally done so.

Holyrood Abbey

Holyrood Abbey is now a ruin with a history that spans 800 years. The Abbey witnessed many royal events -- weddings, births, crown ceremonies and funerals. Restored in 1758, Holyrood Abbey became a ruin once more when the stone roof collapsed due to a hurricane and has been like that ever since.

Palaced out, we then meandered back to the Radisson for a quick dip and were soon off to dinner, this time at Creeler’s. Just around the corner. Phew.

Very nice, quiet candlelit space with an amazing crayfish appetizer that all four of us enjoyed. I had a delicious scallop/smoked fish entrée that makes my mouth water as I think about it.

Claire did a great job on her halibut and I think Joe and Ava enjoyed the Aberdeen angus beef. Fish and angus in Scotland. Pass on the haggis. Oh and the warm chocolate cake dessert was to die for.

Saturday

This morning we moved a little faster after another round at the Rad buffet. Off to catch a small coach to St. Andrews. And en route: a stop at the Forth bridge, a railway bridge that crosses the Firth of Forth near Edinburgh. Say that five times fast. The Firth of Forth.

Then at Falkland, a quaint little village w/ another palace that was used by the Mary Queen of Scots royalty and others. Apparently when each palace got a little too tainted by lack of hygiene the royal party just up and moved to a different palace to let the smells diffuse. Of note: the Palace has the world’s oldest tennis court still in use.

On to St. Andrews, where we had time to explore, have lunch etc. About the town:
St. Andrews is a university town and former royal burgh on the east coast of Fife in Scotland. The town is named after Saint Andrew the Apostle and has a population of 16,596 making it the fifth largest settlement in Fife.
There has been an important church in St Andrews since at least the 8th century, and a bishopric since at least the 11th century. The burgh became the ecclesiastical capital of Scotland, a position which was held until the Scottish Reformation. The famous cathedral, the largest in Scotland, now lies in ruins.

Today St Andrews is known worldwide as the "home of golf". This is in part because the Royal and Ancient Golf Club, founded in 1754, exercises legislative authority over the game worldwide (except in the United States and Mexico), and also because the famous links (acquired by the town in 1894) is the most frequent venue for The Open Championship, the oldest of golf's four major championships.

The town is also home to the University of St Andrews, the third oldest university in the English-speaking world and one of the UK's most prestigious. The University is an integral part of the burgh, and during term time students make up approximately one third of the town's population.

We checked out the course, which was being readied for the upcoming Open and of course wandered down to the water, where Ava plucked her toes into the North Sea. We also wandered through the university, cathedral ruins and cemetery and downtown area. Lovely little city.

After hopping back on our bus (and sitting behind two very loaded Asian people who looked to be in their late 50’s/early 60’s), we motored on to a quick stop at a pagan temple. Whenever I hear the word “pagan” I think of that silly American comedy about the police guy saving the virgin from sacrifice. Name escapes me.

Anyway, this “temple” was a hole in the ground w/ a footprint nearby, overlooking a cliff and in the vicinity of a church. Apparently a common feature: Christianity plopping itself in place of paganism.

Our last stop of the day was East Neuk, a fishing village with lovely views of the sea. And reputedly the best fish and chips in the world. Given we’d had lunch we opted for Anstruther’s homemade ice cream instead, which was fabulous.

Upon return Claire and I hiked the 120 steps up to the High Street (same road as our hotel and yes, there is a more gradual way up but we were on a mission to Camera Obscura for the infamous souvenir). Ava found hers – a lovely jeweled ring – at a shop in Falkland.

With invisible ink pens in hand we were then off to the hotel for another quick swim; this time even I got in and was pleasantly surprised: it was warm. My kind of pool.

We then mobilized and headed to Bijou, a French bistro, for dinner. In another part of town, we cabbed it there and were thrilled with the food in this little restaurant, worked by a two-man band: chef and waiter.

Great food, service and prices…I had a delightful asparagus/huloumi salad, Joe had tomato chili soup, the olives alone were amazing.

The kids shared fish and chips, I had lamb chops with amazing potato wedges and Joe had a pork dish.

For dessert he and I shared a rhubarb pudding that was delicious. Kids got some more ice cream. Think of the calcium benefits.

Sunday

And this morning we rolled out slowly, rolled down to breakfast slowly and hit the pool. And then made off like bandits for our train. What a great first experience in Scotland!

June re-cap

2010-07-09T00:14:00.000-07:00

Written June 30, 2010

Despite my best intentions, poor blog suffers…alas it probably won’t be the last time.

Since early June Claire and I have had the opportunity to view London from the infamous London Eye! We had a good day for it – warm and breezy, a few clouds, thin lines.

The best part, we both decided, was the 4-minute 4-D (yes 4-D) film clip before the ride. It sets a nice stage for the view with a seagull up close and personal.

About the Eye:

Since opening in March 2000 The Merlin Entertainments London Eye has become an iconic landmark and a symbol of modern Britain. The London Eye is the UK’s most popular paid for visitor attraction, visited by over 3.5 million people a year.

A breathtaking feat of design and engineering, passengers in the London Eye's capsules can see up to 40 kilometres in all directions.

The London Eye is the vision of David Marks and Julia Barfield, a husband and wife architect team. The wheel design was used as a metaphor for the end of the 20th century, and time turning into the new millennium. It’s the tallest cantilevered observation wheel in the world, rising high above the London skyline at 135 metres.
The London eye has 32 capsules, representing the 32 boroughs of London.
It took seven years and the skills of hundreds of people from five countries to make the London Eye a reality.
The London Eye can carry 800 passengers per revolution - equivalent to 11 London red doubled-decker buses.
Each rotation takes about 30 minutes, meaning a capsule travels at a stately 26cm per second, or 0.9km (0.6 miles) per hour - twice as fast as a tortoise sprinting; allowing passengers to step on and off without the wheel having to stop.

After our Eye experience we had a picnic lunch, hit the playground and library and retrieved Ava.

The next day wasn’t quite so lovely; I caught a short-lived but mean virus, was able to get kids off to school and then hugged the couch as fever raged. Great reminder of how nice it is to be healthy.

A few days later found me and a number of other ladies at Sofra (great middle Eastern food) for our first St Johns Wood Women’s Club board meeting. (Say that 3 times fast.) Lovely group and I look forward to being part of the board in 2010-11.

Later in the day I had the opportunity to hear Kathryn Stockett, author of The Help, speak. She came to ASL for a brief discussion of her book. Lovely woman who had 62 rejection letters before being published...how’s that for persistence. Well-timed as our book group met to discuss The Help the following day.

Following Kathryn’s brief appearance, a few of us collected at a nearby pub for pimm’s while kids enjoyed pizza and playtime at Szerina’s house. She and I then rolled into dinner at Vineria, our local Italian favorite.

Friday: more Italian with our friends the Sloans, who will soon be off to the U.S. This time we hit a lovely Italian restaurant in Primrose Hill, their neck of the woods. Great food and a great outdoor dining space.

Saturday began the First Holy Communion weekend. Claire and I went down to Marylebone – gorgeous old church – Church of Our Lady – for the Sporre kids’ First Holy Communion. Very nice ceremony. Claire and I also went to the Sporre celebration at their home afterward, first getting our nails painted in preparation for Claire’s big event! (This was her first nail salon experience, just a nice polish.)

Sunday found us at St. Thomas More, our parish, for noon Mass, wherein Claire and 14 others made their First Holy Communion. Miss Ewa, our babysitter, joined us. It was truly a lovely ceremony, with Father Gerard gearing his homily perfectly for the kids. Afterward we had a barrage of photos, treats with members of the Congregation, then were off to Cafe Med, Claire’s choice, for lunch.

June 14 was zoo day! Claire’s school wrapped up that week and celebrated end of school at the zoo. I served as chaperone so followed her and two classmates as they navigated their way via map to the exhibits each had chosen to visit. The weather was lovely, we picnicked outside, everyone seemed to enjoy the day and no children were lost!

The following day I got to hit the Italian Renaissance drawings exhibit at the British Museum w/ some of my Italian group. We enjoyed it very much, had a quick Thai lunch afterward. Wednesday was the last official school day for Claire; classes broke at noon so we met a bunch of ASL families at Violet Hill for such a nice picnic! Again the weather ended up being fantastic after a threatening morning. Eventually I peeled myself off my sunny spot on the lawn and we retrieved Ava and hit Gelato Mio per her request.

Later in the week Claire and I checked out London’s oldest book store (fabulous place that goes up and up and up – kids’ books on top floor), had a lovely Italian lunch out in Mayfair, hit Fortnum and Mason for tea gifts, picked up some other bits and had an all around lovely day out!

I also got to meet with Ava’s teacher for our final parent/teacher conference. I’m pleased to say she got great accolades, has been a good student, interacts well with others and, from Miss Waters’ perspective, seems to enjoy school very much. She’ll continue with Abercorn in the fall as a year one student (aka Kindergarten).

From the conference I went to “Tap Dogs,” a “global dance phenomenon.” Essentially 5 or 6 really fit, really talented men in casual clothes (jeans/t-shirts) and tap boots in an industrial setting dancing for 90 minutes. Loud, fun, high energy and amusing. Similar feel to “Stomp” but not quite as engaging.

To finish out the week, some friends and Claire and I went to Holland Park for playtime and a picnic. What started out as a cloudy/unpredictable day ended up being perfect! FYI…Holland Park is a district and a public park in the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea. It has a reputation as an affluent and fashionable area, known for attractive large Victorian townhouses, and high-class shopping and restaurants.

Over the weekend we relaxed, with me running my first 10 K in years on Sunday. It was the McMillan race, a fundraiser for cancer, held in Regent’s Park. I was thrilled w/ my time – 52 minutes. (I stink at keeping track of distances, times etc. so was pleasantly surprised at my finish.)

We also spent part of Father’s Day at Ava’s summer fair, where I was recruited to work the cake table. The kids managed to go through plenty of coins for the activities and food, and we left empty-handed from the raffle. Good afternoon activity, though.

This all brings us to last week, wherein Claire enjoyed camp at ASL. She came home tired and sun-kissed; highlights were the swim and water fight, it seems.
While she was camping and Ava was at school, I got to check out the Grace Kelly exhibit at the V&A.

Certain to be a big hit with any fashionistas or fans of the films, the wardrobe on show in the Grace Kelly exhibition London event includes over 50 of the actresses outfits, along with hats, jewellery and the original Hermes Kelly bag that has been coveted by so many for several decades. Also on show are some of her favourite designer dresses, with gowns by Dior, Balenciaga, Givenchy and Yves Saint Laurent among them.

Actress, princess, star
Renowned for her effortless elegance and starring in some of the most popular films of the 50s, Grace Kelly became Princess Grace of Monaco in 1965 when she married Prince Rainier. Alongside several garments from her films, her lace wedding gown which she wore in the civil ceremony, features in the Grace Kelly exhibition at Victoria and Albert Museum.

High Society
Famed for her role in the musical High Society in which she starred alongside Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra and Louis Armstrong, Grace Kelly was one of the most famous screen actors of her day. With a style admired and copied by many, the Grace Kelly exhibition gives you an insight into her glamorous Hollywood lifestyle with dresses from several films, posters, film clips and her Oscar statuette all on display. The dress she wore to collect her Oscar for the film Country Girl also features in the exhibition, which is certain to excite fans of her movies as well as fashion fanatics.

I also got to celebrate a friend’s retirement with a very elegant French lunch at Oslo Court restaurant. The establishment is located in a lovely mansion block in St. Johns Wood; the décor very British – think the kind of place you’d take grandmother for tea.

We had lovely food, and copious amounts of it, as tables of elegantly dressed ladies and gents came in. Mixed crowd; apparently it’s a favorite of cabbies. Who knew. Alice was well celebrated, I think.

Also on my calendar for the week – aside from the mundane – was an evening out to a chick flick…”Letters from Juliet.” Lovely views of Italy; it will make you want to go (to Italy, that is. The film is just ok, in my opinion).

Wed. evening Joe and I met a friend of his for dinner – he was in town briefly on business. Very nice meal at Café du Marche, one of our favorite restaurants.

Friday evening saw us at “Enron,” after meeting up w/ our friends Richard and Tim at Joe Allen’s for a wonderful meal. Good American food –organic mushroom burgers as opposed to greasy nachos. Very tasty, great “jazz room” feel to the place. The production was very well done and we all enjoyed it.

Saturday we caught our breath and on Sunday Joe flew out early and the kids and I enjoyed “Brazil Brazil” at the Udder Belly.

The venue: a 400 seat theatre inside an enormous purple cow, staged alongside the Thames.

The show:

Witness capoeira – the rare and beautiful Brazilian fusion of dance and martial
arts, as its masters leap, flip and spin at breathtaking speed. Feel the carnival beats and be swept away on this incredible journey to the pulsating heart of Brazilian passion. Unstoppable rhythm, indescribable feats of acrobatics and a breathless display of football magic from the world champions of the beautiful game.

Great show and nearby was a free onscreen viewing of the World Cup so lots of energy in the area. We capped our Brazil Brazil experience off with ice cream and headed home to enjoy the quiet of the garden.

Last week Claire I went to the Natural History Museum for “The Deep” exhibit and lunch. Nice outing/exhibition:

Plunge into the abyss at The Deep exhibition. Enter a weird and wonderful world, 11,000 metres down in the ocean, less explored than the moon's surface. See bizarre creatures, astonishing images and real specimens, some on display for the first time.

Tuesday we linked up w/ friends for pony day at the London Equestrian Centre. All three kids enjoyed it and we were impressed with the level of organization/instruction provided. (Poor old Westway stables just can’t get it together.)

And next adventure: Scotland!

Delayed Disney report

2010-06-13T00:40:00.000-07:00

Written June 7, 2010 (Post delay due to distracted blog author!)

Only 1 ½ weeks of school left for Claire! I am looking forward to the change in routine. She’s off tomorrow so we’ll check out the London Eye or something else we haven’t yet experienced.

In other news, Ava and I recently spent some time at the Lady Di Memorial Playground – picnic/playtime, carousel ride to wrap up. We also caught up w/ the ladies over lunch at Café Med.

Last weekend was EuroDisney! And a great experience for all of us. To Ava it was pure magic; the princesses LIVE in that big castle. And she was a delight to watch on many of the rides, laughing out loud as she was whipped around.

Claire is every bit as into Disney too, though rides (not the biggies) hold most appeal these days.

We Eurostarred it there last Saturday, were relieved of our bags at the train station next door to the park and hit the place running! Our first item of business: the carousel, then lunch w/ the princesses in Auberge, a French restaurant. The girls were greeted by Cinderella for photo opps on the way in, then socialized w/ Snow White and her man, Belle and the no-longer-beast, a dwarf, a couple of Cinderella’s mice friends…

Lovely experience, good food and eventually we moved on to catch the parade, then “It’s a Small World,” Tea cups, roller coaster in DiscoveryLand (Ava and I cackled w/ laughter as that thing whipped us here and there, Claire wanted off and Joe felt no need to repeat the experience.)

Eventually we headed out of the park to Disney Village for dinner at Café Mickey. Again, a character experience – Smee, Chip & Dale, Minnie, Mickey, a few of their friends.

Our day wrapped up at the Sequoia hotel, a hop skip and a jump from all the Disney business.

Sunday we opted for breakfast at the park – muffins and doughnuts – then hit a bunch of rides/attractions…among them Snow White, Pinocchio, Peter Pan, Swiss Fam Robinson tree house (really cool house, I must say), Pirates of the Caribbean (not the girls’ fave), Buzz Light Year (our fave), some hot dogs for lunch (haven’t had burgers and dogs in eons and I must say they hit the spot), train ride, Disney show, the list goes on.

We took a break in the afternoon for a swim before the Buffalo Bill Wild West Show and dinner. Fun experience; kids loved the show, very similar to the Outback show we went to in Australia. Ribs were fabulous!

And Monday morning we again caught a quick breakfast en route to the park, this time at Starbucks (who knew they had pancakes). This time we did Disney Studios – a crazy roller coaster that Ava and I got whirled around on. NOT her thing – it was rather dramatic and in the dark a few times.

We also hit a Disney Clubhouse show, a magic carpet ride and various other bits of entertainment. Then it was on to Buzz Lightyear for a final ride, as well as some car driving. Ava’s a wild driver. May speak of things to come.

And then we were back on the EuroStar and headed to London, arriving home just after 9 – great 3 days! I like the way the French do Disney – happy but not Uber-happy, wine can be found in the “real” restaurants, the occasional cigarette made its appearance. Real world/Disney merges…

The hotel was a bit of a disappointment – rooms a bit long in the tooth, workout facility supposedly open from 3 to 10 p.m. but even those limited hours weren’t followed. Pool towels cost 2 euros each. We’re not recommending the Sequoia (be sure to tell your 10 friends).

Since Disney it’s been play dates, school stuff, birthday party etc. I took a knife skills class last week, something I should have done eons ago. I learned a ton (yes it’s all basic knowledge but my hacking habits really needed some tutelage). The chef gave us a rundown on knife care, types of knives, brands, uses, etc. Then we watched her demonstrate how to cut up a chicken and dozens of fruits and vegetables in various ways.

And then she turned us loose w/ knives, chopping stations, birds and produce.

Two hours of chopping later there were 3 injuries (one man’s finger, one woman’s two digits). Nothing serious, though.

We also got to enjoy the fruits of our labor (nice pun isn’t it) – gazpacho (yum!!!), roasted chicken, fruit salad. And wine. I left w/ a big 8 inch knife and have been cutting up everything in sight since, including one unlucky chicken.

Thurs. was our last cuisine club outing so I whipped up a zucchini couscous salad and headed over to join the ladies and 15 or so amazing dishes. The cornbread pudding was my favorite (could be because it had ½ cup of butter in it).

I also had a last evening outing before summer break w/ a bunch of ladies, some who will soon move on. There will be an exodus after school breaks, though it sounds like many of Claire’s friends will be around next year.

This time we ladies hit “Poem,” an Abbey Road restaurant that has a nice feel to it and cheap, easy food.

And to wrap up the week, Claire’s class presented their research projects. Her group did South America. We parents were treated to breakfast and presentations by each group – nicely done.

From there I headed off to join my Italian group for a little film Italiano.
And later in the day my dear friend Wendeline and her son came over to play.

Joe and I met up in the evening for “Sweet Charity,” which is hot on the West End right now. We enjoyed it very much, though it won’t be a repeat performance for us.

As for yesterday and today, we have really relaxed – gorgeous weather.

Life since Amsterdam

2010-05-26T02:00:00.000-07:00

Life since Amsterdam has been without complaint, I must say. Claire is closing in on end of school year and First Holy Communion classes. She seems to be enjoying both.

Ava is on break this week for mid-term. I like the British school year; kids coast along, do the show and tells, work on their maths, learn their 200 words and read their weekly books, perform a couple concerts per year, swim on Mondays, wear their red uniforms, park their scooters in the overflowing scooter parking and when they’re worn out, suddenly, voila! The mid-term break.

After a few days of recovery, they’re back at it…and don’t worry, they get plenty of summer vacation – 8 weeks. Frankly I think it’s perfect.

Whereas at Claire’s school all the type A parents (that would be everyone at ASL) ponder how to make sure our children don’t fall behind during the long summer break…
Which of course is sacrosanct…3 months of long, sunny, relaxing days spent in leisure. Think pool, beach, books, games, puzzles… Norman Rockwell. Throw in some whining, fighting and boredom and that’s probably a more accurate picture.

What’s new with us aside from June rapidly approaching? I had my Cinco de Mayo event w/ the ladies…I was recruited by the host because my email has the word “Texan” in it. This engendered me with Tex Mex food expertise.

For the love of food, I rose to the occasion and made corn salsa and Mexican wedding cakes (which my children and I believe are to DIE for warm out of the oven, happily rolled in powdered sugar).

We had a rocking Cinco de Mayo with plenty of margaritas and some kind of tomato juice shooters. Bring on the homemade salsa!!!

Also that day I had the honor of participating in Ava’s school’s spring fundraiser. My contribution was to show up and contrive incorrect answers for the quiz bowl. No door prizes for our table.

What did rock was an event later that week…”Stomp.” Which I really hadn’t much interest in until recently, when two for one tickets were available. Yes, it is so worth going. Two hours of solid, unique, creative entertainment. Fun, funny, unexpected. That, preceded by excellent cheap Chinese food (when you’re the only Caucasians in the restaurant it must be good, or the shop owners have a really large family. Maybe both?) and the company of a good friend, made for a great evening out.
We ended the first week of May with our guests, Joe’s sister and husband, at Rules, London’s oldest restaurant. A lovely place with a rich sense of history and some quite proper British décor, it’s known for its “game-y” menu. I no doubt will long be remembered for eating pigeon. (Squab on some menus.) Frankly if you’re dabbling in chicken the old pigeon isn’t far off…or maybe I’ve seen the inside of one too many chicken houses?!?

Over the weekend we hit the Real Food Festival (year 2 for the kids and me). I love that stuff. I suspect everyone else was along for the ride, but they seemed willing company. We left with a few goodies and had pork belly and asparagus for dinner; can’t beat that. Claire had her first non-family sleepover and seemed to thoroughly enjoy it.

Sunday our guests took off and Ava and I prepped for “Star of the Week” (this involved gathering up photos and creating captions so Ava could be showcased as class star M-F). She shot off to school on Monday with the goods and a ready smile for class photo day.

I spent a couple hours on Monday w/ the Italian ASL ladies (mix of women who are either from Italy or interested in Italy – who isn’t?!?) at a FABULOUS pizzeria in Notting Hill. Will be dragging my family there sometime in the near future. We were well spoiled with all kinds of seafood, cheese, sliced meat appetizers. Then they brought on the big pizzas. I’m stuffed just thinking about it.

The day after that I spent a couple hours wandering around the St. Paul’s area, as I joined the last London walks tour of the school year. This one was Shakespeare/Dickens walk. Where they wrote, places cited in their works, what was happening in various parts of London when they were writing, etc. Great walk except we were all blue at the end, even the guide. Only in May in London would I need to go home and take a hot bath to warm up.

That day was Ava’s trip to the Tate Modern to look at paintings like Pollock’s, who she’s been studying. Sounds like it was a great outing – kids make better sense of modern art than adults, I think. This was one of those field trips I would have loved to go on, but alas Abercorn didn’t invite me (control the parent involvement…gotta love that).

Another recent highlight on my end: tooling around Islington w/ a friend. We had an amazing brunch. Amazing. The quiche I had was beyond belief. Great bacon, cheese and butter. Did I mention great bacon, cheese and butter…

As we’re winding things down, the St. Johns Woods Women’s Club is calling it a halt for the year, so I attended their finale luncheon recently. Freemason Arms in Hampstead. Highly recommend their duck. And brownie. Always lovely to spend time with these ladies – nice mix with diverse interests. Good thing I like them as I am moving into a position on their 2010-11 board shortly…

Joe and I enjoyed the theatre performance of “Chicago” last week, too – I liked it much better than the movie. The depth of talent here never ceases to amaze.

And to end that week, which was clearly action-packed, I had the opportunity to fit in one last “local travel” activity – a tour of Chiswick House in, you guessed it, Chiswick.

Chiswick House is a magnificent neo-Palladian villa set in beautiful historic gardens in west London.
Built by the third Earl of Burlington in 1729 to showcase his art collection and to enthral his guests, the house continues to display many spectacular works of art and provides a stunning venue for entertaining.
The gardens at Chiswick are the birthplace of the English Landscape Movement and have inspired countless gardens including New York's Central Park.
Completed by 1729, the villa, which echoes classical temple design, was never conceived as a private residence. It is instead, a bold architectural experiment by Burlington, a grand pavilion where he could display his art and book collection and entertain small groups of friends.
During his travels Burlington met the architect William Kent and invited him to collaborate on the design of the villa. No expense or creativity was spared on the interior and Kent designed the luxurious and colourful velvet rooms with red, green and blue velvet walls, that interconnect with a magnificent domed central saloon.

The day after Chiswick, a Saturday, I spent cooking and getting ready for a visit from my German friends! They were in town on a whirlwind London tour – people I hadn’t seen since our wedding. Great fun! They and their two boys came late in the afternoon; we had a lovely time catching up (in spite of language barriers). I’d picked up some Fullers brews for Udo to try (he’s a very tall, mustached German who enjoys Kolsh beer very much). I asked if he’d tried any English beers since arrival; he responded he’d tried Guiness (wrong country) and Foster’s (wrong again).
So he made his way through 3 or 4 big bottles of Fullers, various types. Without complaint!

I had to laugh as I sent them home w/ some fun little British items, one being tea (of course). When asked if they drink/like tea, Udo said they drink it when they're sick...which is generally my approach, too (other than the occasional special tea outing which involves all kinds of yummy goodies!).

This all brings us to last week…which wasn’t so frantic with last minute London outings. I did manage to power through Gladwells What the Dog Saw for a non-fiction book group I was recruited to attend by my friend Sczerina recruited. I like Gladwell, liked the group and the discussion so am now a willing non-fiction reader. Next up: The Genome (or something to that effect).

Late in the week I hit a cooking class with a friend – this time French technique. Gotta love the French; they know food. All the recipes were fabulous and appear to be very user-friendly; the food didn’t feel as heavy as lead and the instructor was fabulous. She is also I swear is no more than 25, with staff of 19 or 20, if that – how did they all get to be so poised, professional and talented at such a young age?
I’m sure I was still trying to make it look like I ironed my blouse for work when I really was far too late (or lazy or both)…

After frantically unloading my groceries that afternoon, I jetted off to a little wine bar in a pedestrian area of the West End for appetizers and wine with a friend before our theatre event, “Sister Act.” (Another of those “why not go? It’s 2 for 1 and got surprisingly good reviews.) Great fun, feel good show with wonderful music.
And the wine bar? Fabulous little find and a great evening for it – breezy and warm, windows and doors of the place open to let the outside in.

On the 21st I hit another book group – this one the monthly fiction meeting, wherein we discussed The Other Hand. Ok book. Not great. But made for a good discussion. Unfortunately our host had to run shortly before we wound up, so we closed her house down and headed to…the bar. The bar? Yes, the bar. How decadent. How fun. How…British. Pimm’s on a sunny Friday afternoon in London.

Oh I’m sure we could have done something “more productive” with our time but who wants to miss pimm’s on a sunny fri afternoon in London w/ friends?

In the evening Joe and I wandered down to Marleybone and it was such a nice evening we vetoed plans to watch Russell Crowe exude Robinhood-ness for dinner at a fabulous Turkish restaurant. We sat outdoors and ate a long, slow, tasty dinner…love all the eggplant, hummus and tziki (sp?) sauces and bread. We shared a lamb dish and an asparagus dish. Ended our meal w/ a meandering to a nearby café and an apple tart and coffee.

Over this past weekend we again had some friends over for dinner, enjoyable by all, and soaked up the sun. The backyard garden is ideal – tranquil and lovely, great place for the kids to romp and NO MAINTENANCE on our part. I do love a yard but I admit I don’t like gardening and yard work. (Well, that’s not 100 percent true; I like to plant things, but then I just really want them to be self sufficient. Independent plants; do they make them? I guess maybe the plastics dept. at Michael’s. Cacti?)

Monday Ava and I had a lovely catch up day, picnic in the garden, ice cream at the new gelato place in SJW…

And yesterday I got to go to Wimbledon! Great trip…

The All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club, which is responsible for staging the world's leading tennis tournament, is a private Club founded in 1868, originally as 'The All England Croquet Club'. Its first ground was situated off Worple Road, Wimbledon.
In 1875 lawn tennis, a game introduced by major Walter Clopton Wingfield a year or so earlier and originally called Sphairistike, was added to the activities of the Club.
By 1882 activity at the Club was almost exclusively confined to lawn tennis and that year the word 'croquet' was dropped from the title. However, for sentimental reasons, it was restored in 1899 and the club has been known as 'The All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club' ever since.
Wimbledon is acknowledged to be the premier tennis tournament in the world and the priority of The All England Lawn Tennis Club, which hosts The Championships, is to maintain its leadership into the twenty-first century.

One highlight of our 2 hour tour: the roof was raised while we sat in Centre Court…

And of course I must note that my cioux (sp?) for the month was arrival of my updated driver's license! So when I jet off to Salt Lake this summer I will actually be able to rent a car...I did have a moment or two of wonderment as to how I was going to handle arrival in SLC w/ two kids no car...

Amsterdam Rocks

2010-05-16T01:15:00.000-07:00

I’m finally getting around to writing about our recent Amsterdam excursion, which happened over the first weekend in May.

With our Bank Holiday weekend, we laid out a plan to see the infamous tulips there…

Friday, April 30, we made our way to the train station via the Heathrow Express. Train to the airport is so much better than the cab, in my mind. After the airport process we had plenty of time for wings and potato skins at Garfinkel’s.

Upon arrival in Amsterdam we picked up the right bags, navigated the airport and popped over to the train and a packed platform. Once on board it was a short 10 minute ride to chaos – Central Station was packed with drunk 20 somethings.

Travelers like us were clearly in the minority as we fought our way out of the station. Not easy in a drunken crowd w/ kids and suitcases!

Once outside it was just as crowded and rowdy (but in a happy way) on the streets. Thankfully our friend at the fine Crowne Plaza downtown Amsterdam hadn’t lied; the hotel was just across the bridge.

Inside it was quiet, no beer smells and litter-free. (We later learned that in addition to Friday being Amsterdam’s biggest celebration of the year for the Queen’s birthday, the street cleaners had recently been on strike). So as Ava put it, the streets did look a bit India-ish. Minus the cows.

Saturday

I took an early morning walk to check out Amsterdam (over the years this has become one of my most treasured aspects of travel and/or vacations – so nice to explore a place before or as it wakes up). This morning Amsterdam was decidedly quieter than when we arrived and naturally smelled of stale beer. I did walk judiciously to avoid the vomit.

It was great to wander the canals and narrow streets, marvel at the masses of bikes here, there and everywhere and enjoy the architecture. Narrow brick houses, many w/ flowerboxes.

We breakfasted at our hotel – a buffet that was fine but didn’t measure up to the CP Gurgaon (but then will there ever be one that does…).

Our first outing in Amsterdam was to the Keukenhof, which...
• Is one of the most popular attractions in the Netherlands and has clocked up more than 44 million visitors in the last 60 years
• Is the largest bulb flower park in the world
• covers an area of 32 hectares 4.5 million tulips in 100 varieties
• is the most photographed place in the world
• has15 kilometers of footpaths
• is the largest sculpture park in the Netherlands
• has bulbs supplied by 93 Royal Warrant Holders
• boasts 7 million flower bulbs planted by hand
• has more than 2,500 trees in 87 varieties
• has a Walk of Fame with tulips named after famous people

History:

Where Keukenhof is situated now was a hunting area in the 15th century. Herbs for the kitchen of the castle of Jacoba van Beieren were also collected here; hence the name Keukenhof.

The current park was a section of the sizeable estate of Slot Teylingen, with beautiful untamed bushes and dunes. After the decease of Jacoba van Beieren, Keukenhof fell into the hands of rich merchant families. Baron and baroness Van Pallandt invited landscape architects J.D. and L.P. Zocher, designers of the Amsterdam Vondelpark, to make a design for the garden around the castle. This design, in the English landscape style, has always been the basis of Keukenhof.

On the initiative of the Lisse mayor and a number of leading flower bulb growers and exporters, an open air flower exhibition was organised at the Keukenhof in 1949. This expanded to an annually recurring event that has always drawn great numbers of visitors from all over the world.

En route to the Keukenhof we passed through Amsterdam and into the countryside, with its lovely green meadows and canals, then past acres of flowers in perfect rows. A menagerie of colors, my favorite were the red ones; they create a lovely carpet.

The park itself is beyond amazing -- incredibly displays and arrangements everywhere, with fountains, statues, bridges, waterways, paths, stones, trees…huge place with five or six greenhouses interspersed throughout. Cafes and shops, too. The greenhouse displays were very different from the outdoor flowers. In one greenhouse we could climb up to a landing to look out over the all the flowers within.

In our wanderings we ended up along some flower fields around the park – lovely view. And we were able to climb up a windmill, an incredibly scenic experience. So Dutch, right? The smells, too, were fabulous.

At one greenhouse we walked into entertainment. A band was playing with a choral group – lively tunes that captured the crowd’s attention. Their finale was a song for a bride ang groom. Pretty place, though very busy, for a wedding.

To end our morning we had a snack at a water fountain, with organ music playing off to one side and flowers surrounding us.

Upon return to Amsterdam our efforts to hit the Pancake House were thwarted so we settled on sandwiches at a nearby café, then hit the Tulip Museum, where we got a few bulbs. (Not tulip bulbs, mind you, because while they are sold around town, the good ones are only available in the fall.)

We’ll see if we can get these bulbs to do their thing; they’re supposed to be planted now for blooming in summer. We asked to be directed to 3 bulbs of the low maintenance, planted pot variety…

We then visited the Anne Frank House.

As most know, the House was used as a hiding place for a Jewish family trying to escape Nazi persecution. It’s a somber experience, naturally, but one well worth doing. We’d read several books about Anne and her family so I think the kids got something out of the visit.

Anne Frank was one of the Jewish victims of Nazi persecution during the second world war. After Nazi Germany invaded the Netherlands in 1940, increasingly severe anti-Jewish measures began here as well. The Frank family tried to escape by going into hiding. On July 1942, Otto Frank, Edith Frank-Hollander and their daughters Margot and Anne hid in this building on the Prinsengracht. They where later joined by Mr. and Mrs Daan, their sun Peter and Mr. Dussel. The building consists of two parts : a front house and a back annex. Otto Frank's business was located in the front house. The uppermost floors of the back anexe became the hiding place. After more than two years the group was betrayed and deported. Anne and Margot died of typhus in Bergen-Belsen in March 1945, only a few weeks before this concentration camp was liberated. Otto Frank, the only member of the group to survive, returned after the war.
During the hiding period Anne Frank kept a diary. In it she described daily life in the back anexe, the isolation and the fear of discovery. Anne's diary survived the war: after the betrayal it was found by Miep Gies, one of the helpers. When it was confirmed that Anne would not be returning, Miep gave the manuscripts to Otto Frank. In 1947 the first Dutch edition appeared. Since then the diary has been published in more then 55 languages.

From Anne Frank we stopped for photos at her statue nearby, then decided to relax outside for a drink as it was sunny and warm. It’s a great city to people watch – we saw more multi-tasking on bikes than imaginable. One man smoking a cigarette while riding w/ his daughter on the front of the bike. Another woman pedaling up hill in front of a car with umbrella in one hand, phone in the other.

All kinds of things here are transported by bike – rivals India in the level of use and creativity of transport mechanisms. I loved the wheelbarrow shaped basket in front for child (and object/shopping) transport.

After a short respite at the hotel we set off to find Café de Waag in Neumarkt. We had to pass through the Red Light district en route. At that time of day it was pretty tame, a few scantily dressed “ladies” hovering in windows, which of course invited questioning.

The café’s food was very good, and it’s quite the interesting building:

Originally built in 1488, this this magnificent historic building is lit by 300 candles. It was first constructed as a gate for the city's fortified walls, then transformed into a 'weigh house' where goods brought back by ships from overseas were weighed. In later years it served as a guild house for local professions and has also been a museum, fire station and more. In its most recent incarnation, the Waag houses a well-received café-restaurant as well as space (the former anatomy theater) for various types of exhibits.

Over our heads was a lovely chandelier featuring a good number of the 300 candles lighting the place up. Lovely brick interior. For food, I had the open seafood ravioli, which was excellent, kids had croquettes (fancy name for fried food) and Joe had a steak kebab that looked wonderful. The kids got chocolate fondue for dessert, Joe and I shared trio of chocolate (the mousse was decadent).

Sunday dawned rainy and a bit cooler. I walked down toward the Van Gogh museum and determined it better for us to cab it so Claire and I had a quick breakfast and headed off to Coster Diamonds, which offered a free 30 minute tour. Couldn’t say no to that. We got to see some gems being polished, the tools of the trade, examples of different cuts and grades, etc. Then of course we were shown wares upstairs but no hard sell. Next we went next door to the Diamond Museum, which is really interesting, interactive, etc. (Info on how diamonds are mined, geography, modern uses of diamonds, etc.) Copies of crowns, swords and other high profile garments featuring diamonds were on display.

Info on diamonds and Amsterdam…

Amsterdam's illustrious city of diamonds dates back from the 16th century. Fleeing persecution, many Sephardic Jews left Portugal, Spain and the Southern Netherlands during this period. Many of them ended up in Amsterdam, where they came up against the strict trade protection imposed by the guilds. Trading and cutting diamonds, however, was a free profession, and many Jews found work in this trade.

Several centuries later, mass finds in the Dutch colony of South Africa caused Amsterdam to develop into the world’s diamond epicentre. The persecution of the Jews during the Second World War was a big blow for the industry, although Amsterdam still enjoys an excellent reputation in the diamond community.

About Coster:

The Amsterdam diamond cutter Moses Elias Coster moved into factory premises at Waterlooplein in 1840, and Coster Diamonds was born. During that time, diamonds were still cut by machines literally powered by horses. Thanks to Moses' pioneering spirit, Coster Diamonds was the first diamond cutting factory in the Netherlands to introduce steam as the source of power.

In addition to being ahead of his time, Coster was also an incredible perfectionist. Only the very best was good enough, and it soon rained orders from Dutch and foreign customers. One of these represented an invitation by Queen Victoria to re-cut the Koh-i-Noor. This immense challenge established Coster as a master diamond cutter.

In 1970 the old diamond factory had to make way for the construction of the underground. Coster Diamonds moved to its current location at the Paulus Potterstraat. In three grand mansions, beautifully situated between the Rijksmuseum and the Van Gogh Museum, the heritage of Moses Coster is being done proud.

After perusing the museum we met Joe and Ava across the street at Van Gogh and did the audio tour. Great collection.

For lunch we stayed close to VG as it was rainy and we were scheduled to re-convene at the Diamond Mine for an afternoon tour. Lunch was at a cute little Mediterranean place that smelled great and was humming w/ locals. The French oinion soup was to die for or the combination of hunger and cold glamorized it…not sure which.

Our afternoon tour was to Voldendam and Marken:

We were driven through typical Dutch scenery and the picturesque town of Monnickendam to Volendam, a traditional Dutch fisherman's village situated on the shores of the former Zuiderzee. En route we stopped at a cheese farm to watch a Dutchman wearing brightly colored wooden shows take us through the steps of how Edam cheese is made.

In a nutshell: milk heated to a certain temperature, rennin added, churned, curds formed, liquid removed for re-use in animal feed, curds pressed and voila – cheese (after some time of course). Some cheese aged longer than others, some smoked, etc.
After the demo we were shepherded into the gift shop, where we tried 6 or 8 different types of cheese make from cow and sheep milk. Naturally no one left without a hunk of cheese or some other Dutch touristy item.

BTW our guide was the first person into the cheese place and apparently he hadn’t had lunch, as he made a beeline to the huge wheel of cheese on display and proceeded to consume several chunks…

Back on the bus, we ended up at Volendam for some time to wander around the picturesque former fishing village (fishing industry now defunct in the area since the sea was turned into a lake and the “interesting” fish no longer inhabit the lake). The weather sucked, particularly at the edge of the water – think high winds and cold rain – so we spent our 40 minute break racing from tourist shop to tourist shop and drinking hot chocolate. We then boarded our boat for a nice, though choppy, ride to Marken, an island linked to the mainland by a dike.

Upon arrival we spent a few minutes in this tiny town, which just boasts a handful of businesses, windy little streets, picturesque houses. Our bus warmly delivered us back to Amsterdam, through gorgeous, green countryside with fluffy white sheep and neatly formed ditches and dykes.

After re-grouping (aka warming up) we headed off to Café De Prins. It’s a very comfortable “brown café”, a canal house with relaxed relaxed ambience. Felt very Amsterdam with big candles, wooden tables, upbeat music, mixed crowd. We went for the fondue and pork chop, both good, kids scored on pasta.

For dessert we stopped at a bakery en route to the hotel – Claire and Ava polished off chocolate waffle and donut, Joe and I shared a big piece of mocha chocolate cake.

Monday

On our last day here it was again cold and rainy so we made off to Sarah’s Pancake House for the biggest crepes we’d ever seen. The menu options went on forever; Claire went for standard syrup, Ava nutella (hers WAS dessert), Joe and I split one w/ Calvados and apples, another with ham and cheese. All served by Sarah. No doubt these places are popular post night-out food stops.

From there we cabbed it to NEMO, a great science museum the kids thoroughly enjoyed. After two hours of huge bubble-making, getting stuck in a wind-down lift, all kinds of water experiments, genealogy displays, electricity exhibits and more, we gathered our things, make off to the train, plane and home!

Hair! The Market and Ballet

2010-05-09T07:03:00.000-07:00

April 19 - 30

I'm happy to report we had SMASHING weather for a couple of weeks -- sunny and warm, lending a cheery demeanor to most everyone, it seemed. But that came to a halt as the first weekend of May arrived...here's hoping it warms up again! 50 and gray/rainy make for great sleeping/coffee drinking weather.

Post ash hold ups found us whipping through school stuff, after school activity stuff, homework stuff, the norm. Claire's international committee at school pulled me in for Tex Mex festivities, as apparently living in Texas for six years qualifies one to be an expert at whipping up Tex Mex favorites.

So I huddled with several other cook types to plan a Cinco de Mayo fest. Can't go wrong with margaritas and chips/salsa, can we?

I also enlisted the babysitter for an evening performance of "Hair," a musical I'd arranged to see w/ the ladies. Unfortunately my "date" for the evening was trapped in Cincinnati due to ash issues so Joe got to attend (not necessarily his first choice theatre entertainment). The synopsis:

'A story of love, friendship and very long hair...'

HAIR is about a group of young New Yorkers in the 60's struggling to balance their lives and loves, rejecting the lifestyles of their conservative parents and rebelling against the looming draft. As the plot develops, each tribe member tells their story although two become increasingly compelling: Berger the tribe’s ring leader and Claude its conscience.

Claude is enrapt by his new life, in awe of Berger and in love with university student Sheila. But he's faced with an unbearable decision - resist the draft as his friends have done, or compromise his pacifist principles and step up for his country...

Infectious, outlandish and exuberant, HAIR has gained iconic status since erupting onto the musical theatre scene in 1967 and is responsible for many era defining songs that have become part of the twentieth century pop landscape. And as critics and audiences have found, the messages of HAIR are as relevant today as they have ever been.

While it certainly held my attention, there just isn't enough hippie in me to say I enjoyed it that much. And I'm out of the loop on the music so there you go. I was thankful not to be in the front row as one of the hairy cast members took off his shoes and enlisted a member of the audience in a foot rub. You could say the Hair cast definitely interacts w/ the audience, at times creeping across chairs as they perform.

In other news...

Claire's student led conference took place in late April; she did a great job presenting her portfolio, which showcases her 2nd grade work up to this point. She's enjoyed the year and done well in class, we can proudly state!

On the 23rd I got to put on my foodie hat and spend a few hours touring Borough Market. About the place...

Borough Market is London’s most renowned food market; a source of exceptional British and international produce.

Since its renaissance as a retail market just over a decade ago, it has become a haven for anybody who cares about the quality and provenance of the food they eat - chefs, restaurateurs, passionate amateur cooks and people who just happen to love eating and drinking.

The market is populated by a community of remarkable individuals from all over the UK, Europe and the rest of the world.

As far back as 1014, and probably earlier, London Bridge (near where the market is located) attracted traders selling grain, fish, vegetables and livestock. In the 13th century traders were relocated to what is now Borough High Street and a market has existed there since.

In 1755 the market was closed by Parliament, but a group of Southwark residents raised £6,000 to buy a patch of land known locally as The Triangle, once the churchyard of St Margaret’s, and reopened the market. The Triangle, where you’ll find Northfield Farm and Furness Fish and Game, is still at the heart of the market today.

The market continues to feed this core community and has grown to include about 130 individual stalls.

With a group of fellow foodies of all ages and from various parts of the world, I followed our guide, Celia, around the market -- first starting with "elevenses" at Roast, a well-known, well-loved restaurant in the middle of Borough Market. Elevenses is a small, late morning meal. Ours featured a few British specialties (rarebit, sausages, carrot cake). All delicious!

From Roast we wandered the market, stopping at various stalls -- mostly favorites of Celia for various reasons -- great produce or purveyors of exotic foods. She pointed out vegetables and fruits currently in season, gave tips for preparing them, etc. (Celia is a chef, cookbook author and has her own garden plot.) She has developed relationships with various vendors at the market, so we got to do some tasting at some of the stalls -- the scallops, harvested south of us, were incredibly tasty, as were the roasted lamb/beef and pork at another stall. We got to hold an ostrich egg and learn about ostrich meat (which led me to pick up ostrich burgers for the weekend -- tasty and quite like beef).

Other stops were to taste olive oils and balsamic vinegars, chorizo and Spanish cheese and olives, tomato relishes, flan...

We took a break mid-way through and tasted two wines, white and red, with nibbles in a lovely, rustic old cellar converted into a tasting room for a little wine shop.

When we parted company I picked up a few fresh items and retrieved the kids -- great day out!

The next day we took the kids to see "The Ballet Shoes," a children's ballet performance. It was very well done; the talent is amazing, particularly considering the ages of the performers. The kids seemd to enjoy it, and Claire read the book prior to attending so she had a very good understanding of the story.

To kick off the following week, I went along on a tour of Leighton House with our fearless leader, Alice Leader (no pun intended).

About Leighton House:

The house was the former home and studio of the leading Victorian artist, Frederic, Lord Leighton (1830-1896). Built to designs by George Aitchison, it was extended and embellished over a period of 30 years to create a private palace of art.

The Arab Hall is the centerpiece of the house. Designed to display Leighton's priceless collection of over a thousand Islamic tiles, mostly brought back from Damascus in Syria, the interior evokes a compelling vision of the Orient.

The opulence continues through the other richly decorated interiors, with gilded ceilings and walls lined with peacock blue tiles by the ceramic artist William De Morgan. On the first floor is Leighton's grand painting studio with its great north window, dome and apse.

It's a lovely place, the Arab Hall particularly auspicious with brightly colored tiles and extraordinary detail.

For lunch we ate at the Orangerie at Kensington Palace, a lovely lunch in a lovely room with a lovely view! Then I stopped at Whole Foods, which is always a fun experience though spendy.

And to top off the week, my Italian friends and I hit a very odd movie -- "I am love." I'm not sure any of us really enjoyed the movie BUT we did enjoy our time together and it did hold our attention (well other than Bernadette's 10 minute snooze mid way through).

I also got in a lunch with the Abercorn ladies at a WONDERFUL Turkish restaurant in Marleybone. Superb food, supposedly very authentic (can't say I would know) and very reasonable. Nice combination, I'd say...

Since Austria...

2010-04-20T01:19:00.000-07:00

After screaming in on the Saturday before Easter (this time with the right baggage) we opted for the more reliable Gatwick Express to take us home.

Once there we switched gears, left kids with pizza and sitter and headed off to the pub for dinner with our visitors. After a lovely meal and good company, we enjoyed the ambience and an after dinner drink at the Warrington.

Easter Sunday donned with sleepy kids (and then of course the Easter bunny had visited, hid eggs, etc.) so our Mass plans moved to noon and we arrived 10 minutes prior to beat the rush for a pew. No need to worry; the place was practically empty.

As we waited we felt a presence close behind and low and behold, it was Father hitting me up to read. Apparently his Easter Mass Lector had just emailed to cancel. (Who cancels on Easter without finding a backup? It’s only the most important day of the year in the Catholic church…).

So there you have it: my lecturing opportunity came through in a big way. I was the first and second reader. And as I glanced up from my spot on stage I did notice the pews filled up, so the level of apathy isn’t entire.

From Mass we hit the Clifton Pub. Doesn’t that sound great…a belt of religion followed by a pint. And one wonders why more people aren’t Catholic.

There we met Mike, Liz and boys and had a lovely traditional English Sunday roast for our Easter meal. We were offered a choice of roast beef or lamb with roasted or mashed potatoes, veggies, etc. All good. And we shared a couple desserts – sticky toffee pudding, banofee pie.

Then we wandered to the famed Beatles crossing to snap photos of the Wilcoxes. Actually this was our first time contributing to the traffic backlog; generally we just breeze through the crossing and no doubt spoil plenty of photos and video footage en route.

Easter Monday found the Wilcoxes en route to Paris while we headed down to the Quilt Exhibit at the V&A. It’s a great exhibit; we all did the audio guides and learned about quilting throughout the ages – its artistic applications, contributions to the home and economy, décor, status, craftsmanship, preservation and more.

Then we mosied over to Covent Garden area for Tex Mex at Wahaca. First time we’ve had decent Tex Mex cuisine in nearly two years, I think. It was cheap, cheerful and kid-friendly, too.

The rest of the week both kids were off school so we plugged in some Swiss Cottage swim lessons (I’m determined to work that credit down!!!).

And Claire did pony day on a lovely, warm day; she was one of a very small group so got to be more hands on, which she loved. She’s been sporting a wealth of information about the various horses, their personalities, habits, roles, etc. at Westway Stables.

We ended the day dyeing eggs. (This we would have done earlier but I had a difficult time finding non-brown eggs. Eventually Ava and I landed some pastel-colored eggs; these are produced by some rather artistic chickens, I guess. They worked quite well for the dyeing, actually resulting in more vivid hues.)

On Wed. we headed to Islington, a new part of town for us, where we attended Little Angels Theatre, a very intimate venue with wooden benches. We got to pick our own seats so found ourselves in the front row. The kids loved it – a production called “Who’s been sitting in my chair?” based on Goldilocks. One very talented actor did all the speaking parts, effects and puppets, using a very cleverly designed stage to make seasonal and scene changes throughout. The level of talent for such a wide array of theatre is astounding in this town.

For lunch we hit Giraffe, which is great fun for the kids, then to the library for a load of books as the day had become rainy, good reading weather.

Thursday our friends returned from what sounds like a great visit to Paris. We made our way to swimming and then McDonalds for the promised once-in-a-blue-moon fried lunch (bribes for swimming!). We took our food to go after listening to a nasty attack on the staff by two young men with their pants hanging down practically to their knees. (Who deemed that style attractive and when is it going to die?)

The two threw racial slurs at the staff, then trash. I’ve yet to figure out why no one called the cops. Given we’d already committed to the food we moved as far away from these weirdos, grabbed our bag and ran.

Our afternoon entertainment was “Legally Blonde” – the kids’ 2nd West End production. And great fun. The two dogs featured in the production were highlights.
After scoring stuffed souvenirs priced entirely too high we made our way home for a farewell dinner w/ the Wilcoxes.

On Friday they departed early, the kids and I had a relaxed lunch and park time with friends. Nice to soak in the sun.

Joe and I ended the week at the National Portrait Gallery with the Irving Penn (an American photographer well known for his portraiture) photography exhibit. We then caught a very informal bite at the Stockpot, a local Soho joint that’s very cheap and cheerful, and clearly popular among the non-heterosexual crowd. We followed that with dessert at another similarly diverse spot.

And on Saturday, which boasted spectacular weather, we took a picnic to Primrose Hill and perched on the hillside with numerous other Londoners. We then hit a very busy playground and stopped at St. Johns Wood High Street’s new gelato shop for free ice cream!

Sunday I read at Mass…common theme of late. Then onto Marleybone market with Ava for lots of spring produce, some free flowers (always good to shop with the 5-year-old crowd) and plenty of samples.

Monday it was back to school/work for Joe and Claire. Ava and I got to play a bit more as Abercorn kicked back into gear on Thurs. On our list: bike and shoe shopping, carpet cleaning. The latter was critical given Ava and her friend Ava managed to leave hand prints on the stairs after a recent paint fest. NICE.

I went to “The Real Van Gogh: The Artist and His Letters” exhibit with a friend last week. It was fabulous, with “over 35 original letters, rarely exhibited to the public due to their fragility, on display; together with around 65 paintings and 30 drawings that express the principal themes to be found within the correspondence.”

We were there forever given it was a mob scene (pretty much the same as when Claire’s class went, though they had 30 minutes and we had three hours).
On Friday I hosted my book group, wherein several of us discussed Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar. And over the weekend my dear friend Patty visited so we got to catch up. We spent some time wandering Greenwich on Saturday, and on Sunday we all trooped up Tower Bridge for great views of London and insight on the building of the bridge, its use, how it works, etc.

This week ash continues to keep planes out of the air, which has us wondering about guests and our upcoming plans to visit Amsterdam…

Austria!

2010-04-11T08:26:00.000-07:00

Happy Belated Easter, all! We hope everyone had a nice holiday. Plenty of chocolate, I trust.

All is well in our corner of the world. We thoroughly enjoyed Austria, though day 1 I told Joe it was trying to kick us in the tush. Well maybe I used a little stronger language…

First, we learned our Lipizzaner performance had been cancelled due to continued cough issue. BUMMER.

Then we left our hacienda. We were picked up by cab because we thought that would be easiest/most expeditious. In future, Gatwick Express all the way… Cab rolled right along until we got a few miles from Gatwick and then it took 20 minutes to go one mile. Ugh.

So we got to the airport 1 hour 20 minutes before flight. Still ok if you hustle, keeping in mind customs and security. BUT there are north and south terminals at this particular aeropuerto and we had no instruction for either SO rolled the dice and tried north. Wrong. This entailed getting back in cab and driving to south terminal (big airport).

You people who make fun of small airports like Bozeman’s would be the first ones begging for something you could traverse on foot quickly in such circumstances.

Once in the correct terminal the line to EasyJet was ominous. BUT thankfully we did have speedy boarding so were able to skip the line, hit security and eat. Then I noticed the sign that said it takes 20 minutes to get to gate 30, which was our gate. At that time the departure list said our flight was boarding.

So we hustled it to 30. Thankfully the 20 minute walk was clearly estimated for someone out of shape and heavily burdened with luggage sans wheels. We had no problem getting there in a timely fashion and on board to find seats. EJ does the old Southwest maneuver: make a mad dash for a seat and it’s yours.

A short while later we were in Salzburg, grabbed our bags, which came off together and were on our way.

Once at Hotel Auersperg we putzed around a bit, decided to unpack before heading into the city centre and low and behold found a lock on one of our suitcases…Not our suitcase.

So Joe headed off with the twin of our bag back to the airport; the kids and I unpacked the other bag (which had all of Joe’s clothes; kids and I were of course packed in the one MIA).

And yes, kids’ stuff and my stuff fits in one big bag and Joe’s stuff, well, it fits in another big bag. What is wrong with this picture? Now I can see you all imaging we three wearing same clothes day in, day out. While I do pack light – sometimes to a fault – we do all have clean clothes to last and given we were doing one week in Austria, we were in good shape. That is, had we had bag in hand.

From our room the kids and I wandered down through Salzburg, over the bridge, through the old sections of town and to our restaurant. It was carved into the side of a mountain, as are many of Salzburg’s buildings. Very cool cave interior, very cosy and warm with wooden tables, candles and the like.

A short while later Joe showed up with the right suitcase in tow. Let’s just say the other one was chauffeured courtesy of Weber family to its rightful owner in some city miles from Salzburg.

Our waitress didn’t speak much English; we have a deficit of German. Therein were we surprised when the kids’ food showed up. We expected salami, cheese and ham (all served separately). Instead we got a pizza with said ingredients. Kids adjusted.
I ordered the goulash, one of the area’s specialties (very tasty). Joe had the best dish – stuffed pork dumplings.

First day in Austria: no disasters but definitely bemusing.

Second day in Austria: nothing like the first.

After a buffet breakfast ranging from bacon, croissants and freshly squeezed carrot/apple juice (that’s way too healthy for me) to pickles, olives and several different types of REALLY good cheese, rolls, salami and prosciutto, plus cereals, fruits etc., we were picked up and delivered to a tour bus for our “Sound of Music” tour. Having just watched the movie, we were all prepared to burst into song and climb the hills. Well ok, listen to some music on the bus and get out periodically for photos.

Some of our stops included the gazebo (which Hollywood made look much bigger), the Von Trapp houses (the real one and the Hollywood one), the train station where which they departed (as opposed to the Alps they hiked over), the church where they got married, the Abbey where Maria lived (different building than the site of the wedding), the lake the kids fell into…

It was a gorgeous day, we got to see great views and sites around Salzburg and in the countryside and we sampled the famed Sacher Torte.

Afterward we wandered through the Mirabelle gardens (see below)

The Mirabelle Palace was built by Prince Arbishop Wolf Dietrich in 1606 for his mistress, Salome Alt, and her children. It was converted to the baroque style in two stages. First, in 1689 a new palace and garden were designed by Fischer von Erlach. Second, Lukas von Hildebrandt remodelled the garden between 1721 and 1727. The central axis of the garden is aligned on Hohensalzburg, the castle on the other side of the River Salzach. It has a central fountain, an outdoor theatre and a marvellous sculpture collection. Mirabelle has a key position in the town, near the river and between the old town and the commercial new town. It is also, as Jellicoe observed, draws upon the surrounding landscape. It is a beautiful place, always full of people and more redolent of the atmosphere of a Court Garden than most of old Europe's extant Hofgartens. Mirabelle Palace is used as a registry office and elegantly dressed couples contribute to its courtly air. Mirabelle Garden and the summerhouse at Hellbrunn were used in the film of the Sound of Music about the von Trapp family.

We then hopped on a different bus for a tour of one of the area’s Salt Mines. This one was a working mine in Bavaria, Germany, so we crossed the border and enjoyed the scenery en route. We soon found ourselves donning navy blue overalls with stripes that light up under fluorescents.

Next, we piled on trains with numerous other tourists, going down dark tunnels into a mountain.

After disembarking we went through various parts of the mine, listening to presentations about salt mining. At two junctures along the way we got to slide down wooden slides – were schooled to lift our feet and let go, and that we’d automatically come to a halt at the bottom. Sure enough, we slid rapidly down and came to an abrupt end. Rivals the Disney experience (well the slide part anyway).
At another juncture we crossed a pool of water on a boat. And to return back up to catch the train we took one of those caged mine elevators. In between we got to see a laser light show depicting salt crystals in layers of sediment, various pieces of equipment (modern and retired) used for different aspects of the process, demonstrations of how much salt an average adult consumes in a year, etc. We even got to taste a bit of VERY salty water. Which Ava loved. Each of us left with a tiny shaker of salt for a souvenir.

From our mine we were retrieved by bus and taken to a little Bavarian mountain town for a little free time. The kids found some painted wooden eggs for souvenirs and we wandered around the shops, took photos, etc. Spectacular setting: mountains all the way around, one of which plays host to Hitler’s Eagle’s Nest (Kehlsteinhaus).

About the Eagle’s Nest – it’s a chalet-style building which was an extension of the Obersalzberg complex built by the Nazis in the mountains near Berchtesgaden. The Kehlsteinhaus was an official 50th birthday present for Adolf Hitler. Nicknamed Eagle's Nest by a French diplomat, it was meant to be a retreat for Hitler and a place for him to entertain visiting dignitaries.

The Kehlsteinhaus is situated on a ridge at the top of the Kehlstein mountain (6,017 ft), reached by a spectacular 4 mile long and 13 ft wide road that cost 30 million Reichsmarks to build (about 150 million euros in 2007, adjusted in line with inflation). It includes five tunnels but only one hairpin turn and climbs 2,300 ft.

The last 406 ft up to the Kehlsteinhaus are reached by an elevator bored straight down through the mountain and linked via a tunnel through the granite below that is 124 m (406 ft) long. The inside of the large elevator car is surfaced with polished brass, Venetian mirrors and green leather (the elevator is still used daily). Construction of the mountain elevator system cost the lives of 12 construction workers. The main reception room is dominated by a fireplace of red Italian marble, presented by Mussolini.

A significant event held at the Kehlsteinhaus was the wedding reception that followed the marriage of Eva Braun's sister Gretl to Hermann Fegelein on June 3, 1944. The event was filmed and amongst others Martin Bormann can be seen there. The building is also often called "Hitler's Tea House", but this is a misnomer. Hitler did not treat the Kehlsteinhaus as a tea house, and the location he visited daily for afternoon tea was actually the Mooslahnerkopf Teehaus.

Although the site is on the same mountain as the Berghof, Hitler rarely visited the property. It has been suggested he only visited the Kehlsteinhaus around 10 times, and most times for no more than 30 minutes. However he did receive the departing French ambassador to Germany André François-Poncet there on October 18, 1938. Perhaps because of the lack of close association with Hitler, the property was saved from demolition at the end of the war.

The Kehlsteinhaus was subsequently used by the Allies as a military command post until 1960, when it was handed back to the State of Bavaria.

After leaving our bus behind we regrouped at the hotel, then sought out the Stiftskeller St. Peter, another restaurant carved into the mountainside. Great food, lovely setting – beautiful, ornate rooms where frequently Mozart concerts are performed for diners.

I had the spring menu – lovely goat cheese appetizer, soup with stuffed beef pasta (probably my favorite course), pork and melted chocolate torte for dessert.

Tuesday

Today we had another delicious breakfast; I’m all about the cheese. I’d also taken my second early morning walk – lovely city to wander early in the day, while Joe and kids snoozed.

Yesterday I’d gone up to the Fortress overlooking the city, today up to a Nunnery on another hill. (Salzburg’s history is steeped in Catholicism, including some powerful and big spending Archbishop whose mistress had more than a dozen children. Ah there’s no end to scandals in the Catholic church is there? I can say that; I am one. A Catholic, that is. Maybe scandalous, too.)

After breakfast we were picked up for a tour around town – this time in a van. Our driver gave us a good historical sense of the area, we drove by all the key historical sites, particularly those related to Mozart and were left at the bottom of the funicular.

Before going up in it (elevator type thing on tracks that would take us quickly up to the fortress without any complaints from 5-year-old legs) we stopped for a pretzel (in Austria a pretzel is like a loaf of bread w/ salt on it – fabulous) and checked out the Dom:

This site has hosted a Christian church since 774. The original was replaced with a late-Romanesque structure built in 1181-1200.

The Romanesque cathedral burned down in 1598 and Prince-Archbishop Wolf Dietrich took advantage of (some would say caused) the destruction to demolish the rest and make plans for a grand new cathedral to reaffirm Salzburg's commitment to the Catholic cause in the face of the Reformation.

However, Dietrich's overthrow prevented the completion of this project. The present cathedral was commissioned by Archbishop Markus Sittikus Count Hohenems and designed by the Italian architect Santino Solari. It was consecrated in 1628 by Archbishop Paris Count Lodron.

Then up to the Fortress, where we checked out some great views, the marionette museum and state rooms. Huge museum with tons of treasures:

Salzburg Fortress (Hohensalzburg) is the icon of Salzburg and the largest fortress of its kind in Europe to have survived intact in its entirety.

Hohensalzburg was built by Archbishop Gebhard in 1077. Archbishop Leonhard von Keutschach (1495-1519) presided over an extensive expansion of the fortress. Its greatest attractions for today's visitor include the medieval Princes' Chambers and the Fortress Museum.

The origins of the building, now almost a thousand years old, can be traced back to the time of the Investiture Controversy, the dispute between the kings and the Papacy over the investiture of bishops. In the course of the conflict, Archbishop Gebhard von Salzburg, who sided with the Papacy, ordered the construction of the defensive installations of Hohensalzburg, Hohenwerfen, and Friesach in his territory. This first stage in the development of Hohensalzburg Fortress came to an end under Gebhard's successor, Archbishop Conrad I (1160-47).

For centuries, the archiepiscopal fortress retained its role as a refuge for the ecclesiastical rulers of the diocese of Salzburg. For example, the archbishops withdrew to the fortress when Salzburg and its lands were caught up in the upheaval of the Hungarian War and the Peasants' War. It was during this period that the main building was extended and the arsenal and granary created. The fortress owes its modern appearance to Archbishop Leonhard von Keutschach (1495-1519), who had it extended and commissioned the lavish decoration of its interior. Ornamental paintings and skillfully crafted Gothic carvings can be admired in the Golden Hall and the Golden Room. Fifty-eight inscriptions and the famous coat of arms are additional reminders of his rule. Since the days of Leonhard von Keutschach, the lion that is the symbol of the fortress has held a beetroot in its paws. The last significant structural modification to the fortress was the construction of the impressive Khuenburg bastion.

Throughout its long history, Hohensalzburg has never been captured or successfully besieged by its enemies. The only damage suffered by the fortress was relatively insignificant and occurred during the Peasants' War. Malevolent peasants managed to gain control of a cannon and fired straight at their overlord's residence from the Kapitelplatz square in the city below. To this day, the dent left in a thick column of Untersberg marble bears witness to the only direct threat to leave its mark on the building.

During periods when there was no direct military threat to the city, it was used as a barracks and prison.

After heading back down the mountain we stopped at an outdoor café to soak up the sunshine and share a wienerschnitzel. I then peeled off to hit the museum of modern art, kids and Joe sought out some ice cream.

We met up a bit later to attend a marionette performance of “The Magic Flute.” Too bad I didn’t realize until well into it that the story was relayed in the abridged version on a screen to the side…(I thought Joe had a twitch which made him keep turning to the right).

Before dinner we collapsed at the hotel for a bit, then hit Alt Salzburg for our last evening meal in the city. A very traditional, quaint little restaurant in the heart of Old Town where we had great service and very good food. Again, weinerschnitzel for Claire. I had stuffed nudeln (sp?) with crayfish – very nice dish, Joe had duck. We all left happy and made our exit as a big group of what looked like concert attendees made their way in.

Wed.

This a.m. I got up for a final walk around the city, stopped in at the Church of St. Sebastian. Lovely. Behind it is the cemetery where Mozart and others of fame are buries so I walked through. It’s also lovely, packed with markers, family plots, statues and memorials.

And then we left for the train station, which is in a state of repair. After discerning we were waiting for the wrong train to Vienna (the slow one) we hightailed it to a different bin and a couple hours later arrived in the big city.
Our Turkish cab driver had only good things to say about Vienna, gave us an overview on the sites around our hotel and told us which cafes to hit.

After settling in we made our way to the center of town and took a carriage ride. Nice, relaxing, if a bit bumpy way to see many of Vienna’s gorgeous buildings and streets. From there we hit St. Stephansdom, checked it out then climbed the 340 or so steps up the North Tower.

The motivation for climbing all of these European towers, domes and monuments is of course due to the great views, appreciation for the work that went into some of these historic buildings, etc. And frankly because we can. Let’s face it; if we end up back here in our 70’s we’ll be doing bus tours and climbing a max of 30 stairs while moaning about the impact on our knees.

About the church:

The Stephansdom (St. Stephen's Cathedral) in Vienna has survived through many wars and has become a symbol of Vienna's freedom. The Gothic cathedral was first built in 1147 AD and its most recognizable characteristic, the diamond-patterned tile roof, was added in 1952.

The first church to occupy the site of St. Stephan's Cathedral was a Romanesque church, which was replaced by a larger Romanesque basilica in 1147. A major fire in 1258 destroyed the basilica and construction on the present Gothic cathedral began in the early 14th century.

The cathedral suffered damage during the Turkish seige of 1683 and again in the closing days of World War II, when fire from street fighting leapt to the rooftop.

The cathedral was reopened in 1948; the roof was repaired and decorated with ceramic tiles donated by Viennese citizens in 1950.

Among the important events that have occurred at St. Stephen's are Mozart's wedding in 1782 and his funeral in December 1791.

The tower we climbed rises to 450 feet and is named Alter Steffl, "Old Steve." Originally built between 1359 and 1433, it was reconstructed after severe war damage.

The Dom’s Pummerin bell is one of the largest bells in the world, cast from a cannon captured from the Turks in 1683. It rings out over the city on New Year's Eve.
The "O5" carved into the stone outside the cathedral's massive front door has important historical significance. The 5 stands for the fifth letter of the alphabet, E. When added to the O it makes OE, the abbreviation for Österreich (Austria). It was a covert sign of resistance to the Nazi annexation of Austria.

After our climb we all needed sustenance so we found the acclaimed Café Central and had coffee/drinks and desserts – apple strudel for me, chocolate cake for the kids, some decadent chocolate drink for Joe.

Sugared up we wandered a bit, then had dinner at the Palmenhaus, a wonderful restaurant in an arboretum. Gorgeous, lofty place with lovely palms here and there – very good food, too – we shared the Palmenhaus starter (big capers, prosciutto, cheese and salad) – lovely olive tapenade. And we also shared the mixed seafood grill. Fabulous fish and grilled veggies.

Thursday

This morning I took a walk around Vienna, found myself on the city’s major shopping street. A little window shopping and some great smells wafting from all the bakeries.
Back at the K&K Maria Teresa we started with another breakfast of plenty; Claire was happy: crispy bacon, croissants and nutella. Ava’s again gone in for the sliced peppers, salami and pickles.

Lovely blue sky day and we were off by bus for a tour around the city, then to the Schunbrunn Palace (summer palace of the Hapsburgs). It’s immense and painted in the color of royalty – gold.

Our guide took us through several of the rooms, gave us some great sound bites, we all oohed and ahed over the fancy furnishings, décor, etc.

In our free time we wandered the market out front of the palace and the gardens in back. Back on the bus we got some insight on life in Austria today…kids go to school until noon, lunch at home, university is paid for, as is healthcare. Retirement at 65 and 50 for women and men, respectively, paid at 80 percent of salary. We’ll move here when we’re decrepit. Of course none of this is free – taxes up to 50%.

After being dropped off at the Opera House, center city, we walked to Nashtmarkt for lunch – a long strip of market shops (lots of food) and restaurants. With the nice weather we opted for a German sidewalk café and had bratwursts and more schnitzel. Then we wandered through more market stuff and hopped a cab down to the Danube. No boat cruises just yet so we headed to nearby Prater Park for the infamous Giant Ferris Wheel.

Of course that was our first order of business – it was built in the late 1800’s so feels a bit rickety but that didn’t cause us much pause. Our rectangular “car” had a wooden plank seat in the middle, which we shared with several other Ferris wheel friends. Great views and the perfect, clear, sunny afternoon for it.

We then wandered further into the amusement park, found the ponies and stopped for rides. Then onto the train for a spin through the place – it’s HUGE. And aren’t all amusement parks the same world-over? Tacky w/ cheap plastic lights, bored attendants, deep fried food and a wide mix of visitors. I think the kids are much more excited about the thrill rides these days…bummer their parents' stomachs aren’t quite up for the excitement.

From the park we hit the Vienna underground – quick and easy to use – and collapsed before dinner. I sought out the hotel sauna. It was fiercely hot; after turning it down and (cardinal sin) letting some air out it felt less like a roasting oven.

For dinner we headed to Wiener Rathauskeller, which I guess I assumed to be a very casual publike restaurant near the hotel. Low and behold we found ourselved in the basement of the very gorgeous, stately Rauthaus and the restaurant was beautifully decorated, very elegant and ornate.

We had a lovely meal. I had the very traditional Austrian noodles and cabbage (which sounds non-descript but done by the Wiener Rathauskeller chef was amazing), Joe had steak, kids: wienerschnitzel.

Friday

This morning was chillier; thank heavens for really good coffee. Off we went to watch the Lippizaners train. We didn’t hear any of them cough though…

We watched two different groups of riders work their gorgeous, graceful white horses through various gaits and dance moves. Set to music, it was lovely and very relaxing and in a very auspicious setting – amazing chandeliers, ceilings, paintings, etc. decorate the walls of the arena.

Naturally we didn’t leave without a souvenir – a Lippizaner toy set for Claire, purse for Ava.

We then perused the Treasury – amazing amount of Hapsburg and Church wealth on display – crowns, jewelry, coats of arms, robes, decorative swords, various religious symbols inlaid with jewels.

Then we were on to the zoo! Back to Shonbrunn Palace, the time via tube, we stopped by for a bit at Ankar, Austria’s most prevalent bakery. Good sandwiches.

A few hours of admiring hippos, tigers, lions, aviaries and being grossed out by rats and insects later, we found the elephants (which true, are hard to miss) and bathroom. Thus marked our fill of the zoo. Back in our neighborhood we opted for ice cream and hot chocolate. Then we collaped before our last dinner in Austria, this time at Glacis Beisl, just a block from our hotel.

It was another good food stop. The sign outside was a bit dubious but after going downstairs and entering into a lovely area packed with outdoor tables, I was encouraged. The inside was lovely – lots of skilights and windows, lovely wooden tables and candlelight. And we had great service. I tried the goat terrine, which Ava liked. The calvados apples and berry sauce accompanying it were particularly good.

My main was a peirogi dish – very tasty. Joe had kid goat after learning the lamb included organ meats. And kids…well schnitzel all the way.

Saturday

On our last day in Austria we hurried over to the Zoom Children’s Museum for a 90 minute kids’ art workshop, where each child donned blue or red overalls and made projects in a big studio. Ava made a cool basket among other things, Claire a cool collage, also among other things. A lovely woman served as their interpreter/instructor.

And then to the airport, EasyJet and home via Gatwick Express!!! Much more predictable return.

At home we caught up w/ our guests and their adventures, then we adults headed off to dinner at a traditional English pub and dining room (literally the place is called The Dining Rooms) while the 4 kids had pizza with our babysitter.

Austria!

2010-03-28T01:07:00.000-07:00

Time for a Break!

Well here it is…the long awaited spring break. Actually the months have flown since Christmas but I think everyone is ready for a change in schedule, break from the routine, fresh perspective, all that good stuff.

Today we take off for Austria for the week and are very much looking forward to it. In preparation we watched “Sound of Music” last week so we can burst into song as we skip through the countryside in true Maria fashion.

I did have a moment of panic when I checked the web site of the famous Lippizaner horses, which Claire is DYING to see in their fancy show. The home page splashed red words about “horses having a cough” and “show cancellation.”

At that point the cough hadn’t bled into our week so we’ll see if the horses are up and running next Friday…

Ava finished school Thurs. at 11:10; I do wonder about the effort expended to get teachers, kids, administrators there for 2+ hours of “instruction…” But alas she did go which allowed me to have my mammogram and ultrasound (routine stuff – the former wasn’t bad; just a squashy experience with a woman who I swear was a foot shorter than me and needs a lesson in what not to say aloud to patients…to the tune of “this is difficult because you’re so small…”).

On the school side of things, Ava is the first Weber to experience the London Eye. Since I was on a bus to Van Gogh w/ a bunch of “dare you to kiss…” 2nd graders I had to opt out of the Abercorn Eye experience.

The kids had a lovely, sunny day for it, enjoyed a picnic and playtime along the Thames and it sounds like they had fun seeing Big Ben from on high.

With the 2nd graders, I must say teachers probably keep Excedrin in business. We did not have the teacher on our bus so we had some very loud, daring conversations taking place…I did intervene when the dare you to kiss…business referenced “privates.” Eight going on 14 it seems.

The conversation then turned to burps and farts. Great stuff.

Van Gogh was fabulous, though packed full of people, mostly 50+, so some canes and wheel chairs thrown in. Picture that in small rooms with INCREDIBLE works of art that everyone wants to drink in… and an influx of 2nd graders with 30 minutes to do the entire exhibit.

Oh and we weren’t the only school group.

We (the parent chaperones) were hastily thrown kid worksheets and pencils and told to have at it…one kid in my group asked, no joke, after looking at the first painting if we could leave.

(Naturally she’ll be the one kid who becomes a curator in her 30’s.)

The exhibit is fabulous and I’m dying to go back.

However, tix online/via phone are sold out so the only option is to stand in line and hope you are awarded a day of ticket, which are limited in number so you could stand in line for two hours and walk away with nothing…

My friend Allison saved the day, though. She stumbled upon a restaurant giving Van Gogh tickets away if you enjoy a 2-course lunch SO I rallied two troops and we had a lovely lunch last week. Now w/ VG tix in hand we’re set to fight the crowds!

Among other things, I also recently got to enjoy a tour of the Fuller’s Brewery in Chiswick. Lovely town, Chiswick – quaint shops, antique stores and the like.

The Brewery is immense and near the Thames, so lovely area to walk, jog etc. behind it.

We started with a little beer tasting and lunch ordering, then followed our guide through the brewery, learning how beer is made, history of the business, its evolution, etc. Here’s the Fuller’s description:

Based at the historic Griffin Brewery in Chiswick,
between the serenity of the River Thames and the hustle
and bustle of the Hogarth Roundabout, Fuller's has been
brewing quality beers and running excellent pubs since 1845.

At the end of the tour we did a bit more beer tasting, comparing their family of beers and one special holiday brew. And while I’m not a big beer drinker, I did enjoy the tasting experience and one or two brands my find their way into our fridge…
Last, we had a good pub lunch (though I think Fuller’s is better for its beer!) and headed back for the school run.

On the art end of things I was able to join a group for a tour of the Old Masters paintings at the Wallace Collection. The museum is huge, free and has something for everyone, from armor and shields to kids events to famous paintings to porcelain collections, plus a nice café.

And that same day Joe and I tried a restaurant in Notting Hill – Osteria Basilico. Fabulous food, charming interior – one I would highly recommend!

The other restaurant of interest that I hit last week after a walk of the Jewish Quarter was Rootmaster, a vegan restaurant on a double decker bus. Bizarre, I know, but very good. The bus rocked everytime anyone came upstairs, where we were perched. RM is in an eclectic part of town, great fun!

The rest of my week was filled with doctor business and Ava got out of school Thurs, so we had some down time together. Friday we swooped Claire up from school and zoomed to the zoo for a preview of the updated Rainforest Exhibit. Great tours of the upstairs with lots of monkeys, sloths, birds, toads, etc. hanging out.

Downstairs low levels of illumination for the night forest creatures and another tour guide, who gave lots of insight on various types of rats, bats and other evening critters.

We then hit the carousel and Ava’s ballet class.

And now, off to enjoy Austria for a bit!

Ava's birthday

2010-03-16T07:25:00.001-07:00

Following was written on March 12 (I'm just a bit behind the 8-ball in getting this posted!)

Ava’s Birthday!

It’s a big day at our house -- Ava turns 5!

On the agenda: cupcakes at school. I went on a mission to find the mini-versions yesterday and low and behold, Marks & Spencer came through! They must be trying to make up for the return policy confusion that so did not make my day.

Now armed with vanilla and chocolate cake, the day can begin auspiciously.

Birthdays are or course huge here; I’ve noticed that at British birthday parties the slice of cake accompanies the party-goer home. So for example at the most recent party Ava attended, everyone had ice cream after lunch, then left with goodie bag and neatly wrapped up piece of dalmation cake.

I’m not sure we’d ever get away with the waiting.

Our life post Cinderella on Ice included more work on the inside of the house. Oh if only the handyman had listened when I told him I didn’t think copious amounts of rain coming in the house was normal, even if it was the rainstorm of the year…
That said, walls are coming along nicely. I did notice myself getting loopy on all the chemicals and dust from sanding last week as I attempted some writing. Maybe I should read back over what I wrote see if makes any sense.

Last Tuesday I took my 2nd cooking class at Divertimenti; this one was a fabulous two-hour course w/ an American chef who’s made her home in London for the last 20+ years.

Her recipes were fabulous (she fed them to us for lunch) and easily accessible, she was witty and engaging and of course I left with her cookbook. I’ve already used it (bonus) plus it looks good added to my rather wimpy selection of cookbooks here.

My Bronte class has now wrapped up with the last session a visit to the Victoria & Albert Museum’s Horace Walpole exhibit.

Apparently he was the most important English collector of the 18th century, bringing together and cataloging very carefully a wide range of objects belonging to people of power, fame or wealth. i.e. a hat worn by a Cardinal, gloves belonging to King Charles II, portraits of a number of the kings (he was intent on having one of each), etc.

This exhibit pulled together a representation of the original collection, which is dispersed among private owners and museums – so some of the things we looked at included tea cups, chests, suits of armor and swords, lanterns, curios, jewelry, letters, books, a vase his cat drowned in…

From Walpole we went to lunch at a lovely English pub nearby – ambience over risotto, I’m afraid.

And I then hustled it to ASL to retrieve Claire for the resumption of horseback riding lessons. Sadly, it was no warmer than our last one in December BUT one can only put off so long what one’s child’s heart is set upon.

Bouncer was in fine form, Claire worked with Miss Sarah, stable owner, and they only started 15 minutes late. So all in all, a good experience.

In other news, last week was ASL fund raiser wine tasting. Since Joe opted out, I joined a group of ladies and one token male (we made him team captain) in tasting and guessing at various wines. It was great fun and very un-pretentious, with our master of ceremonies for the night looking and acting like Richard Simmons in a red suit.

Lots of laughter, jokes and food, not much wine, so we continued the party at a neighborhood bar. And on Friday, in between grocery run and some writing work, I beelined it down for a tour of the Royal Academy of Music’s museum. It houses very valuable violins, pianos from the early 1900’s and, currently, photos and
memorabilia regarding Weber, Mendelssohn, Wagner and Richard Strauss. Our docent for the visit was a very dramatic music librarian who ooh la la’d and rolled her eyes at everything she shared with us.

That evening we ended the week with pizza from Papa Del’s, which I must say has again impressed.

Saturday Joe and I had a day-date to the matinee Love Never Dies, sequel to Phantom of the Opera. I loved it. Top notch talent, music is fabulous though not haunting like Phantom’s (this show departs from the ethereal main character). Afterward we had a glass of wine at a lovely little wine bar near the Adelphi Theatre. Very nice date and home for lamburgers with the kids!

School-wise, the past week has been busy – Ava’s 2nd teacher/parent conference, which went very well. She seems to thrive at Abercorn; the environment is cheery and nurturing and with 14 students to two teachers, she gets plenty of attention.

Claire had a Weather the Weather concert, wherein second grade sang a number of (you guessed it) weather-related songs. Great performance, fun music and intermingled were some video shots of kids reciting poetry related to weather.

The day after the concert I got to play math games with her class for an hour. Math is far more fun in her 2nd grade class than when I went to school, I think. The everyday math ASL uses makes it more approachable, at least at this age. I do hear conflicting remarks about the program as kids reach 5th grade but since I’m not in that space...

From the math games I hightailed it to the White Chapel for a quick visit to an exhibit of photography by Indian, Pakistani and Bangladeshi artists. Very well done.

After all that art and culture I may need to detox with some sitcom re-runs and coors lite.

Cinders, Marks & Spencer Hates Me and Construction

2010-03-03T22:34:00.000-08:00

Cinderella on Ice was engrossing, even if it did take a lot of creative license with the storyline. When did a lovely gypsy brandishing a crystal ball come into the picture?

We had great seats so we could watch in awe at the skaters’ moves. How, for example, do these men lift women and other men and whirl them around the dance floor for minutes on end in tight turns again and again? Repeatedly for two and a half hours? And whip out double and triple axles like there’s no tomorrow?

How is all of this done perfectly, in character, while looking absolutely effortless, incredibly graceful and in sync to the music? Let’s not forget the stage is small, with props here and there and others skating at the same time. Amazing. Some of the team are former Olympiads – all were beautiful to watch.

The kids seemed to very much enjoy it; the first scene, with Cinderella’s mother fading away, clearly got to Claire, but she didn’t shed any tears throughout the remainder of the performance.

We picked a great day for Cinderella, as it was cold and rainy.

Monday found me having lunch at La Fromagerie with a friend. I’d been dying to eat at the place, which is, as the name states, known for its cheese. The shop’s cheese department is in a climate-controlled room with a limit as to how many people are in there at any given time. Baby the cheese, baby.

Anyway, La Fromagerie offers lunch on wooden tables with stools in the back of its shop, so we dined on (appropriately) cheese plates. I enjoyed every cheese served. Frankly I haven’t met a cheese I don’t like yet, though I’d prefer never to encounter those plastic-wrapped orange things they pass off as cheese at Safeway. And Velveeta is best eaten in queso. Otherwise why bother…

From there I made a quick jaunt down to Marks & Spencer to exchange some items for Claire. Upon confirming with two clerks –not one but two – I sought out the right sizes and some dinner items, then got in line.

Eventually it was my turn, and after arranging everything on the belt, that insolent clerk informed me she doesn’t do exchanges. Wherein I said two ladies upstairs had directed me otherwise…

This would be the equivalent of waiting in a Walmart line, plopping your items on the belt and then being told you had to go to customer service for your issue. SUCH a pleasant shopping experience.

Here I received no apologies, just an emphatic, no, I don’t do returns. Take it to the 3rd floor.

I expressed my dismay, then asked which till etc. I was then told first floor.
At this point I was really annoyed; clearly no one knows who does what when where or how. Time was ticking and I’m sure the people behind me thought I would pull a uni-bomber trick, as I was rather irritated and not covering it up. Maybe next time I’ll instill more fear and tell them I’m from Montana.

Against my better judgment, I purchased what was on the belt (justification: one needs to feed one’s family), gathered up my three large bags and hit the escalator.
On the first floor I was told I needed the third floor; on three the lines were lengthy and I had to bail for the school run, bags and all.

Outside I watched as my bus went by, and with all this stuff I’d planned to return, plus my new items, there was no way I was going to be able to run to the tube and get to ASL in time.

SO I grabbed a cab, only to realize a few blocks later that I’d spent the last of my cash on that cheese board lunch. As innocuously as possible I pulled out my wallet and started counting coins while monitoring the meter.

When it hit 6.50 I told the cabbie to let me out prematurely on the pretense that it was such a nice day to walk. (Actually it was the nicest weather we’d had in months.) Too bad I had to shlep all these bags…

Naturally when I retrieved Claire she dumped her bag on me. At this point I was well and truly a bag woman, and hadn’t even gotten to Ava yet.
And may I digress for a moment and ask how in the world people who aren’t in shape parent? I feel like a mountain goat on the move most days.

So that was on Monday and I haven’t had the mental energy (or time) to return to Marks & Spencer. BUT Ava’s got a deadline; she needs a skirt in a different size for her 100 day party on Friday. Thus tomorrow is d-day at M&S. I’ll go in search of smaller black skirt/pink leggings and 100 small marshmallows. (And a clerk/till that will cooperate. Wish me luck.)

Re: Ava’s fashion plans - given she rarely gets to wear anything other than the uniform, the M&S skirt is REALLY important for Friday.

In other news, the builder did show up on Monday and has been taking paint off walls, patching things up, bringing in more and more wall fix-it stuff and generally making the guest room stink to the high heavens. As long as we can open windows and close doors, bring on the home improvement program! (Especially since the kids’ shelves got put up today, too!)

Yesterday I cranked on a bunch of house stuff and slipped out mid-day for a wonderful cooking class at Divertimenti. The chef: Jennifer Joyce, who made fabulous sausage lasagna w/ taleggio cheese, buttered shrimp, teacup tiramisu and a delicious salad. I liked the cheese in the lasagna so much I marched over to Waitrose afterward and bought some.

And because yesterday was another spectacular day, Ava and I met some friends at the park before retrieving Claire. I had big plans to do the same today but the weather turned pear-shaped again. I am reminded of last year; we arrived here in early March and I remember freezing all month. In fact, I’ve gotten a ton of use out of my long sleeved, long legged, insulated exercise gear that I purchased the first week I was here in 2009…

Saturday Feb 27

2010-02-27T23:06:00.000-08:00

As we learn of more snow on the east coast in the U.S. and of Hawaii’s potential tsunami, we’re faced with…warm, then cold, then warm. Go figure?

It’s been a good, speedy week, enjoying my writing work, Ava’s proud to be counting to 100 and her reading is progressing beautifully. Claire’s getting ready for a concert and had fun w/ her friend Lily, who is a regular at our house of late.

I did get all systems in place for a spin class on Thursday, only to have my phone ring as I was walking up the steps of the place. The owner was on the other end to say they’d had a break-in over night so no spin.

BUMMER. I very rarely do the indoor cycling here as the studio w/ a good deal, decent occasional class time and my schedule are a bit of a challenge to match up.
Anyway, in lieu of sweating, my friend Beth and I had coffee. Can never complain about that.

Break-ins do seem a regularity here. I keep expecting to walk in one day and either find a hooligan in my house or find a mess left by one. Let’s hope for neither.

As my Bronte class nears an end we did have a lively discussion Wednesday, regarding the most unlively of Bronte books we’re read so far – Agnes Grey. Go Agnes.

After her I read The Shack. Thought-provoking but not the greatest writing, I would venture to say. Have since moved onto Blood Red Snow White. Russian fairytale of sorts. TBD on the book review per moi.

Friday I re-entered the world of art. I’d taken a bit of a hiatus since our Italy trip, wherein we saw so much Renaissance art I was a bit done in.

This time I joined the St. Johns Woods Women’s group for a 2-hour “walk” of the National Gallery, which features mostly western European art from the 1200’s up to 1900. Fabulous place that goes on forever, so you really have to focus your time/energy to avoid art overload.

Our guide was fabulous; she pulled us to various pieces throughout the timeframe represented, focusing on a few in-depth. Great tour; I’d like to follow her around the gallery regularly.

From there I zipped off to join friends at Le Boudin Blanc, a fabulous, bustling little French restaurant in Mayfair. Amazing food. AMAZING. One of the best meals I’ve had here since arrival. And great company, too.

Joe and I ended the day with dinner at a Thai restaurant up the road from us. Cheap and cheerful, it was tasty. Service sucked and the food took forever to reach our table. I think a small family runs the place, which, typically, is larger than it appears from outside. You enter a small storefront expecting to find 6 tables and the place goes on forever.

So this place that goes on forever had two waitresses and it looked like the dad was cooking and handling checks.

Ordinarily this wouldn’t phase us but we’d purchased tickets to an 8:40 film across the street. So when food, which had been ordered at 7:15, eventually showed up at 8:35 we did consult the clock.

Though I must say I wasn’t too worked up; the first movie I went to here didn’t start until half hour of previews, ads, warnings about pirating and cell phones had taken place.

The restaurant’s ambience cracked me up, too – space heaters here and there. While appreciated by the chill-baine affected types like me, they do have an impact on ambience…

And since yesterday started off smelling like spring but crashed and burned by the time we scooted off to ballet, bring on the space heater!

The bean curd and aurbergine chili-spiced Thai dish delivered a nice dose of warm spice. After throwing some cash at the cook/cashier we flew across the street for our 8:40 movie; at this point it was 9.

Never mind that. Candy/popcorn ensued. So at 9:05 we walked in…and ads were still in full force.

Eventually Invictus started. Good film, about 20 minutes too long. Or is it that my butt isn’t used to sitting still for more than an hour? That’s what happens when you don’t work in corporate America for 8 years. Your tush gets out of sitting practice.
About the film. Morgan Freeman: great. Matt Damon: not the right fit. Don’t you need to be bigger and have a broken nose or shattered cheekbone and a consistent accent to be captain of South Africa’s rugby team?

Today found me running around Regent’s Park with Debra, listening to the zoo animals squawk for breakfast. Somehow our 8:30 a.m. run got edged up to 7:30. Pretty soon Saturday will feel like every other morning of the week.

Except that breakfast at our house is good on Saturdays (M-F it’s oatmeal, toast or cheerios with bacon, which is really ham masquerading as such here in the UK). This morning: pancakes. Oh and of course Sunday is spoilage day -- chocolate brioches.

Continuing on with the food story, tonight was a lamb chop/potato meal. Sadly, in the land of lamb, I could only find New Zealand product at the grocery store. Since I had my head wrapped around lamb chops and Marks & Spencer only had the NZ version, I went for that. Paired w/ red wine from same country, it worked.

Politically, clearly, NZ has something going right w/ lamb exportation… Don’t worry, the US manages to get items like Kraft mac n cheese slipped in. Plenty of Americans living here are happy to pay the $5 extortion fee for the 50 cent product.

In other news, we’re off to Cinderella on Ice tomorrow. Claire’s skeptical, Ava’s excited and I can’t wait – it will be at Royal Albert Hall, which is spectacular and the acoustics are beyond amazing. So even if the show stinks, whatever sound is produced will be out of this world.

Winter Again

2010-02-22T22:21:00.000-08:00

Ok, after being teased with lovely warmth over the weekend (so much so that Ava and I scooted to the park for a short outing after dumping our luggage at home Sunday) we’re back to sleety cold.

Yesterday it rained/snowed/sleeted all day…I believe today is more of same. Cold looks more glamorous on TV at the Olympics, I've decided.

Yesterday’s reigning achievements: getting everyone back to school on time and Claire landing a dance class she really enjoyed. Mondays will find her donning a leotard for ballet and a little jazz/tap.

And more achievements: scotchies and good beef.

Remember the former: rice krispy treats only better? Cheap and cheerful too – PB, corn syrup, sugar, rice krispies. Here I top them w/ 70 percent dark chocolate so they’re truly out of this world. At least in my estimation.

Pair that with Chinese beef stir fry (well ok, the two don’t pair but who cares) and you can envision the meal at our house last night.

I scoured Waitrose for a decent piece of beef, which I vaguely remember having some time ago. Not necessarily from the grocery store here, though.

BUT I was determined yesterday to fulfill my desire for really good beef so after much perusal I found organic sirloin on sale…and you know what? It was delicious and tender and the dish a cinch. Just marinate the beef, cut up in chunks, in oyster sauce (a few tablespoons).

Saute an onion and two red peppers (or whatever color you have on hand) with some garlic in a little oil in your wok for a few minutes. Add beef, sauté some more. Throw in rice noodles, a little soy sauce and a little more oyster sauce. Meal ready. And yes, kids did eat the meat and noodles.

Today: a foray back into the turf world for me…more writing projects have re-surfaced of late, no complaints except why aren’t there more minutes in a day? No doubt all of us could use some.

I’ll leave you with this final note: confusion. Friday the owner of our humble abode here called prior to flying to the US, declaring he’s firing the handyman who’s been instrumental to us having doors that work, removing curtains so I can wash them (call me anal but who wants someone else’s filth hanging on your windows…), putting on kids’ head boards, etc.

Then today I get a call from supposedly fired handyman saying he’s coming to fix the rain-damaged walls next week, and when can he do it?

No, I did not get into “gee I thought you’d been fired;” I’ll stay out of that mess.

TBD: Alan or no Alan next week?!? Cross fingers he shows -- I have shelves that need to be mounted!

Moonfleet Manor!

2010-02-21T12:17:00.000-08:00

So off we headed to Waterloo Station on Friday morning – en route to Weymouth in Dorset, the southwest coast (English Channel). (You’ll see plenty of Weymouth in a couple of years as it will host the Olympic 2010 sailing events.) The area is agrarian and tourism-driven, we were told, with the population swelling to extremes in the summer months.

After a relaxing 2 ¾ hour train ride we pulled in and cabbed it down windy streets and roads, past lovely brick buildings and patches of green mingled with coastal scenes. Our hotel was down an even narrower country lane, right on the sea. En route we passed some farms, many horse riders and plenty of horses and ponies milling about in verdant green fields (I continue to be amazed at how much green is in England).

A traditional English building, the lovely stately inn had a big foyer with a dozen pair of wellies off left for guest use. A dog was hanging about near reception – we later learned he’s the Moonfleet Dog, name of Snoopy. He was a big hit with the kids.

After ditching our luggage we passed through 3 lounges with plenty of comfy sofas, chairs, card tables and coffee tables loaded with magazines and newspapers, fireplaces…and wound our way to the restaurant. It was bright and cheery, with big windows featuring great views of the sea and countryside.

Our lunch was sandwiches, eggs, pizza – all good – then we headed off to a large indoor play area where Claire and Ava made use of the trampoline and other toys.

Eventually we checked into our room, then headed to the pool. After plenty of splashing/being splashed, I stopped into the sauna to warm up and dry off, then back to Huntington and Harlyn (love how they name rooms in these character-filled inns).
Great fun to see how these places are decorated – lots of old photos, china, bear skins and the like mounted on the walls.

After collapsing for a bit we headed down to the lounge to await our dinner call. The process here is to have a drink, place the food order and wait to be invited to sup. No complaints – nice fireplace to cozy to up and plenty of headlines to glance over.

Our food was good – Joe’s sweet potato soup was superb – my crabcake and pork belly were fine. But my trio of chocolate was superb!!! Particularly the chocolate soufflé.

Saturday dawned gorgeous – blue sky and sunny. Both Joe and I took walks. The countryside screams James Herriott – large green patches over gentle hills, farm houses here and there. The dog accompanied me as we trudged along the water and field’s edge. Claire of course loved hearing the dog went along; she’s convinced we’ll have a dog as soon as I am won over with dog love.

Lovely way to start the day – exploring a gorgeous area on a gorgeous morning.
I then enjoyed a cappuccino and the paper while Joe wandered.

Then down to a noisy, cheerful buffet. Many families were at Moonfleet – very popular with the toddler crowd.

The food: typical British breakfast – bacon, sausages (really good ones, I might add), hashbrowns, eggs, roasted tomatoes, baked beans, toast.

From breakfast I headed off to a 10 a.m. massage, which was delightful. My back and neck melted. I loved that half coma state massage delivers me into. Pity the poor souls who don’t like to be touched.

After I grudgingly left the table I found Joe and company ready to go to Monkey World:

Set amongst the woodland of Dorset lays 65 acres of sanctuary for over 230 primates. Monkey World was set up in 1987 by Jim Cronin to provide abused Spanish beach chimps with a permanent, stable home. Today Monkey World works in conjunction with foreign governments from all over the world to stop the illegal smuggling of apes out of Africa and Asia. At the park visitors can see more than 230 primates of 15 different species.

We had a great few hours there – a gorgeous day to wander through the place, which is quite large, with a wide array of indoor/outdoor facilities for primates. Big and small, busy and lazy, climbing and playing, relaxing and people-watching, they were fun to read about and observe. Some have horrid pasts – cigarette burn scars, prior addictions to valium and other drugs, inability to parent because they’d never been nurtured, etc.

Here they seem happy and according to the anecdotes about them, most have learned how to relate to their species again, after having been caged or used by humans in inhumane ways.

The park has playground areas and a nature walk interspersed throughout, so it was particularly fun for the kids. Great climbing facilities!

We eventually grabbed a late lunch of typical fast food stuff, then hit the gift shop and took our cab back to the hotel. Great views of the area on the return drive.

Back at Moonfleet we grabbed suits and hit the pool. Once everyone was pooled out, I showered the kids up, then hit the sauna. LOVE LOVE LOVE saunas.

We had a nice break before dinner, enjoyed drinks by the fire again, and this time dinner was exemplary. I had an amazing goat cheese and beet tart (again, pity the poor souls who don’t like beets) and a lovely mullet fish dish served with chorizo and gnocchi.

Joe had a duck appetizer and lamb dish which he seemed to enjoy, Ava had her pasta and Claire, chicken, mash and beans.

For dessert I had a simply amazing warm gingerbread pudding. Kids had ice cream. We all fell into bed, tired, full and happy.

Sunday -- We woke up to rain but by the time I got moving downstairs for coffee the skies had cleared and a lovely day embarked.

I borrowed a pair of wellies and squished through mud in the pastures around the hotel. Again, great views and good exercise, hefting those mud-caked willies. Joe did some wellie-hiking, too, then we enjoyed another round of really good sausages at breakfast.

Ava and I then hit the creche, where she made a mask, and Joe and Claire put some time in at the big play area for more trampoline and table tennis.

In no time it was check out and off we went to the train station for a relaxing trip home and tomorrow, back to school!

On to Dorset

2010-02-18T23:09:00.000-08:00

This mid-term break business has been great fun – nice little stay-cation.

Wednesday, after our infamous swim adventure which for the 3rd day didn’t wipe us all out, we zipped over to Westway Stables for Claire’s Pony Day.

She spent from 10 to 4 grooming and loving on the horses, cleaning water buckets, riding, playing arena games and who knows what else. When Ava and I arrived to retrieve her she was glowing with a big grin on her face as she and her partner scrambled to trade places on their horse for a race.

Every bit of her smelled like horse; I even had to wash her jacket. And she was exhausted; we’d intended to eat at Café Med, a neighborhood favorite, but after she got home all she wanted to do was collapse in her nightie. So we tried a new pizza delivery place instead.

Now we’ve only ordered pizza here a few times, given we like to make it. And the handful of delivery pizzas we’ve had have been like Dominoes at home…

BUT my New Yorker friend Kathy finally landed a pie she could approve of before leaving back to NY, thus handing Papa Del’s info on to me.

I would venture to say Papa will make it into my phone – sans the appetizers though. The wings and corn left something to be desired.

Back to pony day for a minute…God smiled down on Claire and her pony friends as the day was bright and sunny, so they could all enjoy. After Tuesday’s deluge, I didn’t expect the best…

And yesterday was another cold, ornery day, so the bright gem in the middle was much appreciated.

While Claire rode Ava and I met some friends for The Princess and Frog movie (well done, as always, Disney – this time no parent got the axe). And while the title screams girlie, I think boys would like it too.

Yesterday we wrapped up swim, met up w/ friends at Giraffe for a kid-friendly lunch, then went to Hairspray. This was the first long musical Ava’s been to, and she was a great audience member. It’s a fun show, wonderful music, humor and dance. Claire seemed to very much enjoy it, as well.

Their show etiquette, I must say, was much better than the middle schoolers behind us – they had their feet up, sans shoes, on the backs of our seats. GROSS. And in a very elegant theatre, too…

Today we’re off to Dorset – happy weekend!

2nd Swim Day – No Twitch – and Pancakes!

2010-02-16T21:56:00.000-08:00

I’m happy to report that yesterday’s swim was successful, this time no tears at all as Ava likes her teacher and has since declared “I love swimming class!”

From that scramble we were off to Topsy Turvy with friends. Whoa the mid-term break crowd blew us away.

With the line out the door (it didn’t help that the rain set in early in the morning and was still going strong when I went to bed last night), we decided to dig in our heels so the kids could enjoy the chaos.

And frankly, it wasn’t bad once we got in the place. We found a table upstairs, put our 7 chicken fingers orders in (here they call them chicken goujons – it sounds so French and upscale, doesn’t it?) and settled ourselves into the noise.

Several hours later we sought out the kids’ shoes and made our way through the crowd, back into the rain and home again home again.

For dinner: the ever popular BFD!!!

Shroave Tuesday pancakes at our house consisted of:

- 220 g flour
- 1 t BP
- 1 t soda
- ¼ t salt
- 1 T granulated sugar
- 450 ml buttermilk (which I couldn’t find but what tastes better, I think, is sour milk, yogurt or in my case crème fraiche diluted w/ milk)
- 2 eggs
- 2 T melted butter (everything is better w/ butter)
- 100 ml milk
- And blueberries are optional (we opted out here – kids don’t want fruit messing up their pancakes)

Combine the above with pajamas, some winter Olympics, syrup & scrambled eggs with REALLY good cheddar on top. And voila.

Happy Shroave Tuesday!

Now on to Ash Wednesday.

Today’s agenda will no doubt feature more swimming, pony camp for Claire, movie for Ava and me and anybody’s guess on the rest.

Swim day without a twitch

2010-02-15T22:37:00.000-08:00

As reluctant as I was to re-embark on swim lessons at Swiss Cottage leisure centre, that’s precisely what we did early this morning. We’d gone through one swim lesson in the fall and it rattled me so much I couldn’t rally the resources to return until now.

Essentially, we’d arrived there after school, rushing all the way to pick up temporary membership cards, get outfitted and fight with swim caps (they look easier than they are under duress in a chaotic, noisy locker room). Then we had to find the right entrance to the pool (which involves meandering through a parking garage entrance, counterintuitive to the entire lay out of the place).

At this point I was already exhausted. Add to that poor Ava sobbing out of apprehension, convinced she’d have a male teacher. For whatever reason this male instructor thing throws her for a loop, though she’s grown to like Mr. Chubbers and Mr. Doyle at Abercorn.

Eventually we made our way to the check-in area in front of the teaching pool, where a mass of adults and children huddled.

We joined the huddle and the kids were eventually assigned to “phase 1” since they were new. I then peeled Ava off me and went behind the big glass window with all other parents banished from the pool side.

From there I attempted to keep track of my two children, whose swim caps blended in with all the other pink and black swim caps.

Thirty short minutes later we all re-amassed to collect our dripping charges, Ava again sobbing (not sure why as her teacher was a woman and the most they did was blow bubbles).

Suffice it to say we were all very grateful to get out of the place, which was noisy chaos as the next group worked their way in.

And I was even more grateful, later in the week, when I received a text saying the pool was broken and lessons were cancelled indefinitely.

What brought us back yesterday morning, you ask? This looming credit that I must use or lose…and the fact that the kids need some exposure to water – beyond shower/bath – regularly.

The idea of doing a week of lessons rather than hiking up to Swiss Cottage immediately after school and rush rush rushing through the hair-raising process every Monday also held some appeal.

So I clenched my teeth yesterday morning and got everything ready early so we set out the door with plenty of time. Ava shed a tear or two on the way but held it together. The lobby of the place was actually (dare I say) quiet. As was the locker room and pool area.

We got dressed in calm, checked in with a lovely woman who assuaged Ava’s fears immediately and I again disappeared behind glass to try to pick out my children among the mass. (Smaller mass this time, but nevertheless a mass similar in height and swim attire.)

This time no bubble blowing – the girls had been placed in classed deemed appropriate to their abilities. Again, the 30 minutes flew (an hour and a half of preparation and de-preparation for 30 minutes in the pool -- how much sense does this really make?!?)

This time Ava was upset upon leaving the pool but only because the swim cap was bothering her forehead. Claire seemed relatively unscathed by the process.

And after a relaxed locker room experience we were home by 10:15! Therein I escaped the first mid-term break lesson without a twitch. We'll see how I do today.

What else, praytell, will our agenda bring today? Shroave Tuesday! (Pancake day here – instead of “Fat Tuesday” we’ll be cleaning out the cupboards and making pancakes in preparation for Lenten fasting.) So it’s BFD (breakfast for dinner) at the Webers tonight!

And sometime between swimming and BFD we'll hit Topsy Turvy for some indoor fun (yesterday's cold and snow flurries are on the agenda for today. Bring on the inside entertainment)!

Paddington and running

2010-02-14T22:32:00.000-08:00

Running around here is enlightening, I must say.

Yesterday I took it upon myself to jog in Paddington Rec, a park near us that features trails, track, playground equipment, synthetic turf systems, tennis courts, a café that never seems to be open when I’m there, etc.

Oh and plenty of green space for dogs, Frisbees, the occasional kite, a picnic, Abercorn sports day, the list goes on.

In addition to providing recreational opportunity and some fresh air (not to mention great views – the leaves changing during our gorgeous, long autumn season were particularly amazing at Paddington), it’s a great place to observe people.

Yesterday, as I ran sprints around the track, I lapped four Muslim men out for a jog. Their children – 3 or 4 I think – were ensconced within the track, where there is grass with fence separating track and grassy oval.

The men, dark, swarthy and bearded, chatted as they made their rounds, wearing dark, heavy sweats, hats and sweatshirts. (I think they were more heavily dressed than I was; maybe sweating it off was their intent.)

En route to the track I passed a couple of soccer games in full throttle – mostly Asian men who looked to be in their 20’s.

On the other side of the park the dog walkers meandered, yesterday several middle-aged women with small, jacketed dogs. I’ve seen more clothing on dogs here than anywhere I’ve ever been. These cosseted pooches live a starkly different life than the copious unhomed hounds we observed in India.

The women with said dogs seemed to drift in and out of conversations with other dog walkers so perhaps they regularly run into each other at Paddington.

I get a kick out of a couple of older ladies I’ve often seen during my morning Paddington foray. These two ladies, who look to be upwards of 70, mill about with cigarettes hanging from one corner of a wrinkled lip, waiting for Precious (or whomever) to do his/her business. I don’t believe it occurs to them that what they’re doing flies in the face of recreation at Paddington…

Then there are the personal trainer pairs. Yesterday a male trainer and his female client discussed the benefits of stretching as they eased into a routine involving exercise stations around the park.

And in an old bandstand in another corner of the park, three other Asians held poses (maybe tai chi?).

No one was on the cricket pitch this morning; often it is used by young Indian and Pakistani men early on Saturdays. On the park’s edges, the occasional resounding smack or shout could be heard as pairs of people face off across the court, tennis racket in hand. These folks seem more typically to be British, generally 25-50, I would guess.

And always there are a few lone runners, like myself, making our way around the tennis courts and pitches, up and down hills and around green spaces, some with shorts and tanks no matter what the weather, most with some kind of musical device to see us through. We're a more motley crew -- old, young, skinny, not so skinny. All in our own little world.

Later, Paddington will be busier, noisier. But early Saturday mornings are perfect.