Summer?

What’s new with us…

Summer has started though it’s been a bit of a disjointed year so it doesn’t really feel like summer yet. Plus the weather isn’t HOT like Texas and North Carolina so I guess I keep expecting summer to come sometime down the road. (I’ll probably get into the summer swing in late August…)

With regard to weather, it’s been very pleasant here– sunny for the most part, 70’s and 80’s during the day, cool enough to throw open the windows at night, let in a few moths (no screens…Lord knows why not – they could help keep some of the dust and dirt, insects etc. out…)

It did POUR the other night, hail and the whole 9 yards, thus testing the roof. I’m happy to report it no longer leaks.

This past weekend Joe and I checked out a new part of town for dinner – Highgate. The UK Good Food Guide led us to The Bull, a popular neighborhood gastropub.
Great food, nice ambience…I enjoyed a wonderful slow cooked short rib, what Joe had escapes me.

On Saturday we took the kids to the Queen’s birthday parade, an annual event that is celebrated in June, though her birthday is actually in April.

It was a gorgeous day; we finally got to see the horses we’d spied several times out practicing for their part in the Royal parade.

The area of course was jam packed but we eventually lit upon a spot that we could perch the kids on a rail for viewing. Therein they got a decent view, we experienced what we could on tip toe.

As we waited we could see guards in their red and black outfits with tall black hats posted here and there. Several hovered at the end of the road the queen was expected to bolt out of w/ her entourage.

Eventually she did just that; a group of horses, dark brown and shiny clean with riders in regal attire came whipping out, followed by the queen in her carriage. She swept through quickly, dressed in bright blue, with a big smile on her face.

She was followed by more horses, dignitaries and a corps of musicians playing and riding at the same time. (That was the most impressive aspect of the parade: trumpeters making lovely music while maintaining formation in a most majestic fashion…on energetic horses in front of a huge crowd. Nothing like multi-tasking.)

The Queen then swept around the circle again, this time at a more relaxed pace, same entourage making the trip around a 2nd time.

This event is actually known as Trooping the Colour, held yearly in honor of her official birthday. (It’s held every June, the month of her coronation in 1953.) Since the early 18th century, each regiment's colours (two flags or banners) were paraded before its own troops so that soldiers would recognise and rally to them in battle. And this tradition continues, nowadays for the benefit of the Queen who then receives a royal salute. At the close of proceedings she returns to Buckingham Palace in a carriage and appears on the balcony of Buckingham Palace to wave to the crowds and watch a fly-past of RAF and occasionally other planes.

On the way home we stopped for a quick bite, then relaxed in our lovely communal garden and enjoyed the backyard grill.

On Sunday we hit Ava’s school fun fair, another lovely day to be outside. Face painting and all kinds of kid friendly activities.

And again, we took advantage of the nice weather and grill. (I’ve been told by Londoners that when the weather is nice, drop everything and get outside. We’re all over that. Who cares what state the house is in? It will no doubt be rainy enough soon enough that vacuuming and such will eventually get done. If not, who the hell cares?!?)

On Monday Claire tripped off to camp – outdoor recreational activities at a park used by the American School. I took advantage of the time to check out the Wallace Collection, a lovely private art gallery.

Tuesday I was on a mission to find shorts. And as any woman knows, as soon as one goes on a mission specifically to find clothing, it simply doesn’t happen.
(And no, I’m not dying of heat in London, but we will hit warmer climes later this summer so I’d like to have something comfortable to wear other than my Target jogging shorts.)

Wednesday found me at the British Museum for the Garden and Cosmos – Royal Paintings of Jodhpur. The exhibit features two separate types of painting popular in the Jodhpur region between 1725 and 1843. The paintings, created for the personal pleasure of the rulers of Jodhpur, represent the spiritual, political and aesthetic preferences of three generations of the Jodhpur court.

I enjoyed it very much, having seen many similar miniature paintings and demonstrations of these techniques in India.

The British Museum is immense – it will be a multi-year project to check the place out.

The other highlight of my day was dinner out with parents from Ava’s class. We gathered in honor of her teacher, who is getting married in July. Dinner was lovely, plenty of wine to celebrate the happy couple. And it was in a restaurant next to a wine shop I’ve discovered; they deliver if you buy a case (delivery is key for our urban lifestyle sans car). Thus it’s been fun to mix and match wines. And drink them, of course. Life is short.

Given her classmates are from various parts of the world, it's fun to spend time w/ the parents...people from Pakistan, India, Australia, the Middle East, Japan, Wales, England, Canada. I'm fascinated to hear various experiences.

On Thursday Ava had her concert, wherein she dressed as an elephant. She joined her elephant friends, monkey friends, lion friends, penguin friends and a couple of aliens to put on a musical show with poems sprinkled throughout. Very well done, cute and all kids – save one – seemed to thoroughly enjoy the performance. (It goes without saying that we parents were captivated.)

Yesterday I waited for the plumber to come – 3rd attempt to get the guest shower up and running. We’ll see if 3rd time is a charm when it comes to plumbing. The poor man is from the Czech Republic or Hungary or somewhere wherein I get some of what he tells me, but really, I'm not a pipe afficianado so I have a hard time reading between the lines to understand what he can and can't fix. Then when he just up and walked out the door without so much as good-bye let alone an update, I'm really at a loss.

All I know is this: all guests planning to use the guest shower better bring a hose to connect to the sink.

My big accomplishment for the day was to (happily) cut BT off direct debit; the company had set up 4 different direct debit programs into our account as a result of all their mistakes with our orders. Now we’ll see if they’ll cancel the extra charges for broadband that never functioned…

We ended the week with our Friday night date, this time met up w/ a friend for drinks at his house, then dinner at a busy, fun Greek restaurant. Great night out, and today our outing was to Covent Garden to just hang out and be entertained by street performers, eat jacket potatoes and peruse the market. A little paper-reading, R&R and the day is gone…

Roof fixed?

Ok since I last wrote I believe the roof is fixed. (Haven't had the rain test yet.) The roofer who was supposed to come at 9 showed up at 11:45. But he did show up. This is always a good thing, especially on a rainy Monday.

I've decided construction/contractors/delivery people/plumbers/cable guys etc. are pretty much the same everywhere: on their own schedule. And even though they're generally very well wired -- more attached to mobiles than my husband is to a blackberry -- they don't bother to call. No reaching out to touch someone to let them know they'll be late...that they're leaving you high and dry, etc.

I will say this: I liked my dealings with the cable and phone people in the US better. (The roof guy, though late, was very polite, apologetic and seeming equipped to do the job.)

With regard to cable, three attempts at installation later, it still works. I do continue to wonder if good TV exists anywhere or if it will continue to elude me all my life. Maybe in heaven?

(I say that but I did let the kids wallow in TV for a couple days; why not? In India they could get Mickey Mouse in Hindi, and CNN just isn't that much fun for the 4 and 7 year old crowd.)

On the phone side, I signed us up for the 15 pound a month plan -- unlimited calls in the UK and many countries (US included) for up to one hour. (Hit 59 minutes, hang up, re-dial, free.)

So after burning up the phone lines (well let's be realistic here, I rarely call anyone, so that would be the J-O-E making calls) for 2+ months (yes the bill finally came, then gathered dust for a few days until I was able to get past my animosity toward BT to open said bill) I was more than vexed (great word, isn't it?) to find we'd been charged for every XXXXX'ing call to the U.S.

Again I found myself on the phone w/ BT, again they told me they'd have to look into the issue and resolve it no later than within 3 business days.

Now that 4 business days have passed, I took it upon myself to phone up old BT again and was told I may receive confirmation of crediting my account within 48 hours. Hmmm. I am not holding my breath.

Meanwhile I've once again ordered the "call the world 15 pound plan" (that would be my name for the thing, not BT's) and of course was told it would take 24 hours to take effect...now I'm scared to call my neighbors for fear I'll be charged for that too.

(Why do I persist w/ BT, you ask? Well, if I kill the phone line, broadband will go down, then there will be a big delay while I order phone from another provider and get my migration authorization code, then I'll have to re-order broadband, which will be another 7 business days...)

Stuff designed to make ex-pat spouses crazy.

In other news, Claire is done with school and the entire place is clearing out. I'm amazed at how many ex-pat families go to the US for 6+ weeks! Frankly I'm not going to live in the UK long, most likely, so I'd like to enjoy my time here when the weather is somewhat warm and the sun might shine. (Plus there is this detail about wanting to see my husband, having a house here, the opportunity to travel/sight see, not live out of a suitcase for 2 months...)

Now we will take advantage of summer to visit our families, as usual, in August. Best time to visit Montana (and Wisconsin...though one rainy week there a few years ago did suck).

On the banking front, I continue to be amazed at how "global" our world is...yet one can't get a check drawn in Indian rupees into a UK bank account.

The weather smiled on Ava today as she headed off w/ her class to the Hundred Acre Wood park. They all looked for Tigger and darn it all couldn't find him.

Ava cracks me up. Next week she has to dress up as an elephant (MaryJo, fly over and help me come up w/ a costume; I'm inept at this stuff). Claire's suggestion: borrow one of Joe's gray shirts to wear, then create a trunk using paper and gray paint.

Ava digested this suggestion and a while later told me quite seriously that "I am a small child."

This led to Dad being big, dad's shirt being too big and can she wear my gray shirt instead? Now this gray shirt did shrink in the laundry machine (though I've yet to figure out how since nothing ever gets completely dry in that contraption, despite it cycling forever...wonder how much electricity it eats?), but last time I checked it's not going to fit a 4-year-old that much better than her father's...

And on the topic of size, Ava equates larger people with strength. Thus one of her teachers is REALLY strong. And I'm happy to say she thinks Joe is much stronger than me.

Re: Claire these days...she's decided she'll never drive a car, will live in London as an adult and have at least one dog. Oh and she'll adopt a child, a girl, who is 6 years old. No babies. No siblings because they'd fight too much.

A voracious reader, the chapter she's most interested in in the Animal Kingdom book is the one on reproduction...isn't this stuff supposed to be covered in health class in 5th grade?

No other late breaking news on the Weber front other than tube strike was on yesterday and today, so Joe worked from home yesterday and cabbed it down to his office today. We'll see where the strike nets out tonight, as tube was supposed to be running at 7.

With the tube down, I just logged a couple more miles than a typical day, so of course I have calluses on top of calluses. A pedicurist's dream.

I’ve decided the calendar has taken on a life of its own. It’s now June?

Claire didn’t have school on Monday (sometimes it feels like there are as many days on as there are off at ASL…plus she gets out an hour early every Wed. So far I’ve managed to remember that one day a week I pick up at 1:50 instead of 2:50…I’m told nearly every parent has walked the walk of shame as their child waits patiently in the school office on Wednesday afternoon…)

But I digress.

Our teeth cleaning plans were thwarted (it’s been a while since we’ve had those babies scrubbed, so with recommendation for good hygienist in hand – though I’m told avoid the dentist in that practice like the plague – I’d made appointments).

Now it is worth mentioning that of course the US has the reputation for dentistry and orthodontics, and of course our dentist in NC (who I dearly love and who has 4 children and who filled one of my teeth w/ Ava sitting on my lap) did put the fear of God in me – which I must say takes an act of God as it is since I’m the antithesis of worry -- to only entrust our teeth to American trained dentists and whatever we do don’t let them put steel bars or fillings or some God awful things into Claire’s teeth has been ingrained…)

ANYWAY hygienist had a family emergency so we dropped Ava off at school and Claire and I went to Rascals, an indoor play area she loves. She played her heart out, we ate at McDonald’s (again Claire’s choice) and shopped.

That is, I shopped. There’s a great little shop whose window I pass and admire frequently. (It’s on the path to Sainsbury and Waitrose, the work horse grocery store and the upscale market, in that order.)

Anyway, today I was enticed to spend money.

And may I just say I had so much fun?!? Claire dove into 2 books we’d picked up earlier while I tried on clothes. The ladies in the shop, who always look so pulled together in a cool way, put me in a big room in the back and pulled out all kinds of mix/match casual stuff.

I tried tons of stuff on and actually got real feedback: “that would work great with XXX”, “that doesn’t do anything for you,” “this is a good color for you but if it’s not your style, bag it”…etc.

Quite a contrast from India’s dressing rooms, where it’s generally 18 year old men who provide assistance. And pretty much limited to “different size?” (Though once I tried on a fitted shirt – made in Germany or somewhere other than India – given most garments for women there aren’t fitted. Anyway, I asked the two women sales assistants what they thought and both immediately said the shirt was too small. I suppose in their way of dressing it was; they like everything blousy.)

Again I get off topic. This is what happens when you haven’t had enough coffee.

After trying on a pile of summer garb (stuff that can be layered because Lord knows London’s summer isn’t a Texas or North Carolina experience) I did extract a few items I liked and Claire and I went in search of duck.

Having never cooked duck, I decided it would be on the menu at Chez Weber.

Duck in hand, we went in search of Ava, who is generally all smiles after her big days at Abercorn, but en route to the house either picks a fight of falls apart emotionally from hunger.

She eats at the cafeteria for lunch but sometimes I think her declarations that “I ate my whole lunch” are a bit subjective in nature. That, coupled with the fact that she’s my hit and miss breakfast child (some days it’s two bites of toast and a piece of cheese, some days it’s a bite or two of a brioche), that her snack option for school has to be fruit or vegetable (which I applaud but hello no protein to hold a growing 4 year old down) and that she’s a growing, active little soul, leaves the poor kid ravenous at 3:00 every day.

After loading her up on salami, cheese and crackers (Mom, remember the same after school snack you gave us?), we again achieve some level of pleasant behavior. Though not always; sibling rivalry is alive and well in my house. Those people who say “my kids don’t fight” – are they normal?

So that was Monday.

Tuesday I had a cool outing – I met up with the St. Johns Woods Womens Club for one of two final hurrahs this week: viewing of a documentary called Goal Dreams. Produced in 2006, it follows the challenges of the Palestinian national soccer team preparing for a decisive match that, if they won, would qualify them for the 2006 World Cup.

The co-producer and co-director, Maya Sanbar, was on hand at the Covent Garden Hotel, where we watched the film, to introduce it and to answer questions afterward.

It’s a great work, provides a better understanding of the political issues and constrained way of life in Palestine while keeping one engaged through the universal language of sport. If you have a chance to see it, do.

(And may I also note I’m not the biggest documentary watcher, though I know there are, particularly now, many great ones out there – frankly I’ve watched so few movies in the last two years that I always feel like I just want to lose myself in some great light hearted American movie…) Not to worry. When I’m more homebound (doesn’t that sound inviting) I’m sure I can log some hours on the couch.

ANYWAY Goal Dreams is available on amazon.com. http://www.goaldreams.com/ Apparently many universities in the U.S. have adopted it into curricula for greater understanding of the Middle East conflict. I love that word, conflict. Implies a disagreement between two people over what restaurant to select.

Maya’s produced other films, many award winners. This one received accolades at various film competitions and incorporates humor, profiles specific members of the team, using characters/situations as metaphors for what’s going on in the world at large.

That’s my ad for today.

After Goal Dreams I had enough time to zip down to Borough Market, near London Bridge, which I’ve been dying to hit since arrival (it’s a huge market that comes alive Thurs-Sat. – foodie heaven – surrounded by plenty of cafes, shops and restaurants).

Tues. was the last day of the Spanish Food festival, a spin off of the street fest we’d hit on Sunday. I wandered through, sampled some great cheeses, sausages, passed on the tongue soup – it just didn’t look that good, though judging from the line it must have had some pop to it – and had a late lunch of grilled sausage before picking up my children.

And preparing the infamous duck.

Which was a hit at our house. (Claire discovered a passion for grilled duck at the Crowne Plaza in India – Wildfire’s got good duck. And shrimp and beef and lamb and everything else. They should; their bills have “imported food flown in by private jet” written all over them.

Wednesday Claire had the infamous bug bash at school. ASL first graders all came to school in bug costumes to put on a bug-song concert for parents, followed by bug-related refreshments (think spider cupcakes and butterfly cookies).

Since it was my final day of Ancient Britain class (field trip out to St. Albans) I was missing from the bug crowd but Joe attended and ASL is naturally providing DVDs of the event. (The level of resources the school has astounds me. As does the tuition. Thank heavens Bank of America writes that check and double thanks for Joe’s hard work).

St. Albans rocks – it’s the oldest town in Hertfordshire, north of London. First it was known as Verlamion, a Celtic Iron Age Settlement (Verlamion means “the settlement above the Marsh”).

After the Roman’s conquest of Britain in AD 43 the town became known as Verulamium and was one of the largest in Roman Britain. In AD 410, when the Roman army departed, it fell into decline.

From its ruins the new monastic and market settlement of St. Albans was developed on the hill above the city, near the site of St. Alban’s execution (he was the first British Christian martyr). A Saxon settlement grew up and around the Monastery, which was founded in AD 900-950, by Abbot Ulsinus, founder of St. Albans.

The town prospered during the Middle Ages and into the 18th and early 19th centuries, with industries such as brewing and straw hat manufacturing. With the advent of the railway it developed into a modern city and was given that status (City) in 1877. At that time the Abbey Church became a Cathedral.

So that’s the overview on St. Albans.

Our first stop was the Cathedral, which is a really cool place to visit and has some beautiful features but is a bit of a mish mash (understatement of the year) architecturally so when it’s all put together, the effect isn’t one of great beauty, at least in my mind.

BUT it is very interesting, very big and clearly represents changes in art/architecture and leadership (both secular and non-secular) throughout the ages.
Our tour guide was a little old American man originally from Rhode Island but has been at St. Albans for 55 years. He’s now an Abbot at the Cathedral. His depth of knowledge on the place seemed bottomless.

A few highlights from our tour:

- The cathedral is built on what is believed to be the site of the martyrdom of St Alban. The hill upon which it stands overlooks the valley of the river Ver, beyond which lie the buried ruins of the Roman city of Verulamium.

- The Cathedral’s nave is the longest of any in England – 275 feet.
- An earthquake shook the abbey in 1250 and damaged the eastern end of the church – miraculously no one was hurt.
- St. Albans’ remains are believed to be at the Cathedral; they were removed to Germany by monks to preserve them and were later returned to the shrine.

From St. Albans we went to see Roman ruins – an ancient theatre. It was built in 140 AD, “the only example of its kind in Britain” -- a theatre with a stage rather than an Amphitheatre. Initially, the arena would have been used for anything from religious processions and dancing, to wrestling, armed combat and wild beast shows.

From about 180AD the stage came into greater use and the auditorium extended. By about 300AD, after some redevelopment work, the Theatre could seat 2000 spectators.

The ruins one can see today were unearthed in 1847. Subsequent excavations have revealed a row of shop foundations, a Roman Villa and a secret shrine, all thought to date from the First Century.

Post-theatre (which was surrounded by lovely green fields and a few sheep inhabitants) we headed to lunch at another great pub. (Our fearless leader, Alice, knows how to pick great lunch spots.)

This time it was the Red Lion, which had a warm atmosphere, plenty of woodwork and excellent lunch fare.

From there we hit the Verulamium Museum – self described as the “award winning museum of everyday life in the Roman city of Verulamium.” Of course it’s an award winner in the Verulamium category; how many Verulamiums are there?

Great museum, great day out with the Ancient Britain folks.

In other news, I spent Thursday waiting on the plumber. This would be the 2nd attempt to fix the water pressure issue in the guest bedroom. To no avail. Maybe 3rd time will be a charm.

Miracle of miracles, though, Sky broadband came through as promised on Friday. Without blood sweat and tears and dozens of calls. Let’s hope it lasts.

Friday I had a quick cup of coffee with the St. Johns Woods women as we prepare to part for the summer – several members are headed home or to other parts of the world, so it was a bit of a send off. From there I headed to the National Gallery for ‘Picasso: Challenging the Past,’ which was winding down its last days in London.

It’s a GREAT exhibit – I was there for 2 ½ hours – the gist: exploring the ways Picasso explored the Old Masters, creating his own works in response to their styles.

To cap off Friday Joe and I went to Les Miserables, one of the best theatre productions I’ve seen. It captivated both of us and I’d like to see it again. And again.

Sat. we hit the Science Museum, which is immense. Ava, Claire and I spent a couple of hours just in the basement, met Joe for lunch, then parted company as Ava had a birthday party to attend.

She and I nearly met with disaster as, upon entering the tube, the doors slammed shut between us. I stood there mute trying to figure out how I was going to reconnect with my 4-year-old in one of the world’s largest cities as the tube whisked her off to Lord knows where with a bunch of strangers wherein she wouldn't be able to communicate where we lived, phone #, there are only how many people named Weber in the world...

So there we were, Ava crying on her side of the dirty glass while I tried desperately to pry two doors that clearly cannot be pried apart.

My savior was a 30-some year old man with brown hair and glasses who scooped Ava up to comfort her as she’d bruised her arm in the door trying to get back out when she realized I wasn’t on board. He had the presence of mind to hit a button inside and as if by magic the door flew open, I flung myself in and poor Ava howled.

Let’s just say we made quite the entrance on that car.

Then as the train lurched and I crouched, comforting her, we both tumbled to the floor, unhurt. But again quite the spectacle.

Despite that moment of crisis, Ava had a ball at the birthday party.

And today was just a delightfully lazy, rainy day. We woke up to thunder and a heavy storm…and a leaky roof. One of those times when you're thrilled not to own the place, BUT it is still a bit of a problem when the hallway carpet is soaked and there’s a steady drip drip drip coming from the attic. I wonder what it looks like up there?!? Not to worry; builder has been summoned so will let him find out how wet it is (given we have nothing stored up there, my worry quotient is low).

On an aside: is it me or is storing stuff in the attic just a pain in the neck? It’s an act of God to get it up there, an act of God to get it down and climate control simply doesn’t exist. In my mind it's purgatory for stuff you don't need.

Here’s to a sunny day tomorrow.

Last day of May

Ok, May flew...and the last few days have been spectacular. England in great weather is beautiful.

Ava was off school this week so we hung out, caught up on some house stuff (we are now sporting cable; it actually works). Installed by a surly gentleman who reeked of cigarettes and coffee (he kept disappearing to his van during his 4 hour installation stint so I'm assuming he was refueling).

He also just plain reeked but since he actually set about doing the cable job, who's complaining? Plus he opened all the windows in the house...

The BT engineer was here for hours this week, too, but he left without solving the internet problem. (Why BT had to cancel broadband when it was happily minding its own business and working is beyond me.) His recommendation as I was again left high and dry without internet access: cancel and call Sky (competitor).

This I did promptly. So we begin again...

However, I've gotten no less than 8 calls from BT technical help trying to track me down to "help" me. I wonder when their own activations dept. will tell them we cancelled?!? I've already informed at least three of them.

Ava and I hit the zoo on Friday with some friends from her school -- great day for it. Big news: warthogs had babies. They're as cute as a warthog can be, I guess. Poor buggers were hot; no doubt heat in London is a rarity for them, so they were well and truly wallowing in the mud.

To end the week Joe and I had incredibly good steak at a little French restaurant near his office. We haven't eaten much good red meat since...well, really since Texas, which of course has the corner on good, big food.

BUT our little French spot was fabulous, with intimate, wood interior in sight of the kitchen, great service and a baby artichoke appetizer that was out of this world.

Yesterday we headed to the butterfly exhibit at the Natural History Museum per Claire's request. It's set in the front yard of the museum with numerous varieties of butterflies and moths flitting about. A big crysalis display is featured in the middle, so you can see the creatures as they "hatch" and are later turned loose.

Snakes, scorpions, hairy tarantulas, a variety of bugs and other assorted creatures were also featured in the exhibit (these fellows were caged, thankfully). Outside the exhibit is a playground and picnic area, nice way to cap off the outing.

Oh and we stopped at Whole Foods on the way home. I hadn't set foot in Whole Foods, again, since leaving Texas. What fun what fun! Claire and I sampled our way through, left with a couple items (must be careful at WF or you leave half your bank account and walk away with 2 grocery bags).

Today we hit the Spanish Festival for a couple of hours. Regent Street was shut down for flamenco dancing, horse dancing, food sampling, face painting, caricatures, etc. Kids enjoyed the latter activities most. We also left with all kinds of travel info on Spain. Plenty of lovely destinations to check out when the weather turns south here.

Last night I managed to saw through my index finger so spent half the night trying to convince it not to throb. This morning it wasn't much better, this afternoon it seems more agreeable. I have of course convinced myself it does not need medical attention; an iodine wipe and some neosporin solve everything, don't they? (Lord knows I'm caught up on tetanus and every other booster out there.)

Speaking of shots, sounds like we need one for swine flu. A "mild" case was reported at Claire's school this week, so it's clearly making the rounds. Bird flu, swine flu, what's next?

Aldeburgh, internet challenges, Ancient Britain...

Hello from Aldeburgh, England

Well I'm way behind on blogging, aren't I? Must say I don't have a great excuse other than trying to do too much in too little time, but that's fairly typical for everybody these days, I guess.

Now that we're AWAY from it all (in Aldeburgh, a little coastal town in Suffolk, a couple hours from London), I can actually take a minute to write.

This is a lovely place, 2,500 inhabitants in winter, swelling to 12,000 in summer. Little cottages line the windy streets and go up the hills overlooking the coast, which is full of rocks that in my mind are larger than pebbles. (They call it a pebble beach.)

It's windy, of course, and cool, and I'm sure the water will be cold to our toes (we're planning to dip them in today). Yesterday we sat out on the rocks and enjoyed the view and the kids' energy as they ran back and forth looking for the "right" 4 rocks to bring home. (One must put limits on these things or the luggage will weigh more than we do.)

Fishing boats and fish stands are here there and everywhere along the windy coast, and plenty of people are out and about flying kites and playing along the water. What a contrast from India's beach, where heat meets water.

We left a sunny London, took the train to Saxmundem, then cabbed it a short way to the fine Wentworth Hotel. Our cabbie said it's a traditional English Inn, frequented by people who've been coming for years upon years, some still coming even after they've passed. Food: adequate. He gave us the two minute tour of town (it's a one main streeter).

We checked in and headed out on foot to check the lay of the land, first stop being the North Sea. Very much a breath of fresh air. We headed through town and stopped for ice cream at the most popular shop around: the ice cream place. (Line half way down the block.) (There were also lines around the block for the fresh fish and chips shops.)

Claire ordered her standby: lemon sorbet. I had a chocolate crunch that was missing the chocolate (huh?), Ava had chocolate mint, Joe banana fudge (again light on the chocolate). We checked the rest of Aldeburgh out, then had refreshments at the hotel bar (doesn't that sound so British) and dinner at the hotel restaurant. Our driver was spot on; we were clearly among the younger crowd.

Day two in Aldeburgh was fabulously lazy; Joe and I each headed out, taking turns exploring before the kids got moving, then had breakfast at the hotel. And from there we spent 3 hours on the coast. Kids pored over the pebbles, donned swim suits and checked out the water temp. (Frigid.)

Eventually I was convinced to leave my sunny spot and we wandered through town, had ice cream again, this time before lunch. Why not?!? Then down to the wharf to check out a tower (couldn't go in though). And we landed on a Michelin listed restaurant for a late lunch. Superb fish and asparagus.

Then onto our hotel for a bit of regrouping...the bath tub is the longest I've ever bathed in (love love love baths). We then enjoyed a bit of time in the main part of the hotel (we're in the annex across the street, which is supposed to have family rooms vs. smaller ones at the property itself -- maybe it's code for "let's keep the noisy people off site.)

Anyway, some cards and Ava's purple nail polish later...we ate dinner at the hotel again (why not? It was included in our stay...). Great duck I must say.

Lovely day. Following a good, busy week...and what did we do last week? Bit of a blur but what stands out:

- Lipchitz art exhibit on Tuesday night. A curator from the Tate museum lectured and walked us through drawings and studies at the Ben Uri Gallery in St. Johns Wood. More than 150 of Lipchitz’s works spanning 60 years are featured there. (Lipchitz was a Lithuanian-born sculptor and “pioneer of Cubist sculpture in Paris.”)

Many of the drawings were studies for very well known sculptures in the U.S. and in Israel. The curator discussed how his art changed over the years, how it was influenced by other artists, political events, religion, etc. from when he began in 1910.

Very worthwhile experience, and apparently the gallery expects to move into a larger space near the National Portrait Gallery and other frequented museums/tourist destinations. Their focus will continue to be on immigrant artists, many with a Jewish background like Lipchitz.


- On Wed. I headed off with my Ancient Britain class to Butser Ancient Farm, south of London, for a tour by working archeologist. The bus trip there wound us through London and eventually into the crisp, green countryside. Butser is gorgeous -- farmland area, verdant green hills surrounding a spot with roundhouses recreated from what is perceived to be farm homes from the Iron Age.

Our guide was an impassioned, energetic man with wild salt and pepper hair who moved quickly and spoke eloquently about all the projects he's been working on at the farm. Among them: a number of roundhouses he and others have built, using materials from the areas upon which roundhouse remnants have been found (various areas in England and Wales).

Some have roofs made w/ reeds, others with straw, for example). Mud daub walls, chalk floors (chalk is commonly found in the soil here and in other areas around England.) He showed us where he'd dug holes for grain storage, as would have been done during the Iron Age. Sheep from the time period are raised on the farm, fed with “ancient” grains. (That sounds tasty, doesn’t it?)

Inside the houses are no windows, just a single door, generally facing east, with thatch thick enough for protection yet thin enough to let smoke seep out (holes in the roof would lead to leaks and/or fires). One of the houses was "furnished" as it would have been then -- some spinning tools, grain pounding implements, shelves for pottery, etc.

The last structure we toured was a Roman villa from more recent times, featuring an under-floor heating system.

From Butser we headed off to lunch at the Red Lion pub, which had a warm ambience with plenty of wooden furniture and a big table to seat all of us. I had a fabulous lamb pie with superb potatoes and onions. A warm, satisfying meal after a breezy couple of hours wandering about the farm felt just right.

Friday evening Joe and I met up for theatre -- Sunset Boulevard at the Comedy Theatre. While it wasn’t our favorite, the performance was excellent, the twisted Hollywood plot kept us engaged and we had great seats. We ended our evening with a bite to eat at a nearby Italian cafe.

The prior week...(May 11 onward)

Ai yai yai…I have been booted off the internet again by BT (British Telecom). Boobs. Sometime in the next millennium we’ll have cable and wireless internet. The former I could live without, the latter is a bit of a lifeline these days, especially as we’re going on 7 months out of country.

If and when we get back online you’ll be the first to know.

May 11 was a delightful day – I dissed rug unrolling and all that jazz to join the ladies for a special tour of Spencer House (think Lady Di – it was built by her ancestor, the first Earl Spencer).

The house is recognized as “one of the most ambitious aristocratic town houses ever built in London and is, today, the city's only great eighteenth-century private palace to survive intact.”

Spencer House was built in 1756-66 and is located near St James's Palace, Buckingham Palace and the Palace of Westminster, with a lovely view of Green Park (this I can attest to – the views into the park from various rooms are gorgeous – lovely “back yard” with beautiful, huge trees).

House info per the Web:

The first architect of Spencer House was John Vardy (a pupil of William Kent), who used the Palladian style. He was responsible for the external elevations of Spencer House and the design of the ground floor rooms as well assome of the furniture.

James 'Athenian' Stuart, who’d just returned from Greece, superseded Vardy as Lord Spencer's architect in 1758. Thus the House became the first example in London of accurate Greek detail in its interior, making it one of the pioneer examples of neo-classical architecture.

Spencer House was designed to be used for receptions and family gatherings, as the first Earl Spencer and his wife were prominent figures in London society, and during their lifetime Spencer House was often the setting for lavish entertainments. Their descendants, notably the fourth and sixth Earls, both of whom served as Lord Chamberlain of the Royal Household, continued this tradition.

Following the death of the first Earl Spencer in 1783 the House was partly remodeled.

The Spencer family lived in the House until 1895 when the building was let to a series of tenants, including the Duke of Marlborough and his wife, the former Miss Consuelo Vanderbilt. Following the death of the fifth Earl Spencer in 1910 the family returned to the House and in 1926 the building was substantially restored. A year later the family moved away and the House was let to the Ladies' Army and Navy Club until 1943.

The contents of the House were removed to Althorp and in 1942, at the height of the Blitz, valuable original fixtures such as chimneypieces, doors and chair rails were removed. During the war the House was occupied by nursing services, and in 1948 a lease was signed with the auctioneers Christies's (their property was bomb-damaged).
The House was then converted into offices for the British Oxygen Company (from the Vanderbilts to the Oxygen company – whoa!). In 1963 the Economist Intelligence Unit moved to Spencer House until 1985, when the lease was assigned to J.Rothschild Holdings and to RIT Capital Partners.

The House has since been restored, complete with carved architectural detail, chimneypieces and copies of original furniture. A wide array of paintings – some provided to the House by the Queen (prior to Diana’s death) are featured.
A select number of functions are held each year at Spencer House, and part of the building is used for offices. The public can schedule tours, like we did, and I think the House is open for a couple of hours on Sundays.

- On Tuesday I had lunch w/ the International Culture Committee’s cuisine club – it was their last event for the year as the ICC breaks for summer. Great finale – we met at a Greek woman’s flat for incredible Greek food. Highlights: fried meatballs, pita and traditional dips, spanikopata (sp?), fresh Feta, of course a lovely Greek salad…it went on and on.

The entertainment, too, was great fun and quite a surprise – a gorgeous woman in fancy red costume belly danced. She pulled members of the club in to dance with her, which was a hoot. I was selected to balance a sword on my head while the rest of me wiggled and jiggled to the music. Let’s just say I was successful at balancing the sword, not sure if any of my flesh actually moved to the beat.

Wednesday marked my first online grocery store delivery – free since I met the 100 pound mark. Worked great, will do that again – it was a “general goods” stock up – no meat, cheese or produce (that stuff, I do believe, needs to be selected by hand…I need to decide if the tomato looks worthy of purchasing.). Plus frankly I like to grocery shop for those things – TP and paper towels, who cares?

Friday my outing was a visit to the Dulwich Picture Gallery with a friend. We went to see Sickert in Venice, which was a great exhibit, in town until early June. A bus ride wound us through town to a great little gallery off the beaten path, featuring Walter Richard Sickert, one of the “the most important British artists of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.”

Known as the father of modern British art; he introduced Impressionism and Post-Impressionism to a younger generation of British painters. Sickert trained under James McNeill Whistler.

Per the name of the exhibit, it featured many of his Venetian works as he’d visited the city many times and painted many scenes of Venetian architecture. Apparently the churches and bridges lost a little of their lustre as Sickert moved onto painting prostitutes…also featured in the exhibit.

And after lunch at a French café we made our way back to SJW.

Joe and I had a date that evening, as he’d returned from a week in the U.S. earlier in the day. We opted for dinner at Gilgamesh, where I’m convinced I’d had the best sea bass of my life a couple weeks earlier.

We had the tasting menu:

Edamame Beans with Sea Salt
Selection of Sushi and Sashimi
Chicken Croquettes
Prawn Spring Roll
Scallop Sui Mai
Asian Spiced Rack of Lamb
Hoba Miso Chilean Seabass
Chicken and Papaya Salad
Stir Fried Asian Greens
Crab Fried Rice
Gilgamesh Dessert Platter

It was delicious. And great ambience – Asian influenced, warm with great lighting, mixed crowd.

On Saturday Claire and I headed off to Windsor for the Royal Windsor horse show, which she was EXTREMELY interested in attending. We went early, took the train from Waterloo. It was a cool, breezy day but rain-free for the most part. The grounds are near the castle, which greeted us as we left the train station. It’s huge and lovely – another day we’ll have a Windsor Castle experience.

After wandering past that landmark we made our way to the grounds, which featured three arenas, booths (plenty of food and drink options, horse related products, cheese, wine, clothes, paintings, jewelry, etc.), sponsor displays (British armed forces were all over the place) and plenty of horses, horsewomen and horsemen.

The Castle arena was the largest venue; we watched jumping competitions for a couple hours, then checked out the practice area and watched the carriage races. (Teams pulled carriages with a driver and one person as a “moving weight” on back through an obstacle course. Near us was a series of turns/bridges the carriages had to move through as quickly as possible before racing to the finish. Teams from around Europe were featured.

For the jumping competitions, most riders were from the UK, several members of the Olympic team and/or offspring of Olympians.

In one area showmanship competitions were taking place with Welsh ponies, gorgeous with their long wavy tails and shiny black coats.

One of the jumping events featured a wall that was raised after each round, riders eliminated after knocking the top piece off. The winner cleared 7+ feet.

Great experience, such a contrast to the western horsemanship style I’ve been exposed to.

And in other news of the week…I got to escort first graders throughout the streets of SJW to practice street safety, wise skills for all in this city. In addition to driving on the other side of the road, cars move at a very rapid pace and the pedestrian ONLY has right of way at zebra crossings and lights. So Look Out!

I leave you with this anecdote, which may not be amusing to you, but I had a chuckle:
Last week a delivery person left a box at my door, then run to his unmarked van. I asked where he came from (meaning which company); he replied without hesitating “Hungary.” DSL, Hungary, fed ex…

May 4 – May 11

It’s been a great short week – Bank Holiday Monday, which was a nice catch up day for us. Tuesday I headed to Camden Town (Stables Market) for lunch at Gilgamesh with the St. Johns Wood Women’s Club. Cool group of ladies who’ve had varied work/living experiences, many with kids at the Amer. School.

We had incredibly good Pan Asian food – I particularly enjoyed the sushi, sea bass and scallops. Say that five times fast. The area around Gilgamesh is cool – lots of funky shops (cyberpunk to vintage clothing, esoteric record stores, unusual furniture, piercing places, you name it, along w/ more mainstream stuff – and what looked like great street food). Many are housed in Stables Market, a converted Victorian horse hospital. I took a quick stroll around the market but will need to go back to absorb the sights and sounds at a more leisurely pace.

Waddesdon Manor

On Wednesday I caught up w/ a group headed to Waddesdon Manor for a tour. The place is spellbindingly beautiful, a French villa built in 1880 by the Rothschilds (specifically Ferdinand). Queen Victoria visited there in 1890.

The house has been passed through the family over the years, bequeathed to the National Trust in 1957 and opened to the public two years later. At one point Waddesdon was used as a refuge for evacuee children during WW2.

Here is a description of the place per Waddesdon’s web page soliciting film crews…

Built in the style of a 16th century, French Renaissance-style château of the Loire, Waddesdon’s wine cellars are modeled on private vaults of Bordelais vineyards. The Dairy is also French in tone but has a Germanic accent to its steeply pitched roofs. There are over 7 miles of quiet roads and lanes only used by estate and farm traffic, unusual estate buildings and stunning views over the Vale of Aylesbury. (Waddesdon has appeared in a few movies, one a Ballywood flick.)

These days Lord Rothschild (Jacob) manages the Manor, which houses collections from four generations of Rothschilds (25,000 items, ranging from manuscripts to porcelain, furniture to contemporary sculpture, from ironwork to musical instruments, from tradecards to gold boxes).

May happens to be open furniture month, which means various pieces (desks, dressers, tables, etc.) had doors and drawers open. Thus offering us the inside view, quite literally. Some have hidden keyholes and secret compartments – fun to see.

Gorgeous pieces, heavily detailed. Forty-five rooms are on view with “exceptional collections of French 17th century decorative arts and English portraits. (French royal furniture, porcelain and Savonnerie carpets, and portraits by Reynolds, Gainsborough and Romney, Dutch Golden Age paintings, 18th century books, drawings, textiles, 16th century limoges, enamel and majolica and a spectacular 18th century silver dinner service commissioned by George III.)”

Outside an immense garden surrounds the house, not sure where it begins and ends – trails, playground, aviary, statues, a huge bird topiary, stunning trees and flowers, fountains…

Our tour guide was fabulous, a lovely older lady with a lilting voice who is obviously impassioned about the house and its treasures. We ran short on time so raced through the 2nd floor. I’d love to go back – so much to absorb.

Gutting Quail, Pub Grub and Zoo-ing It

And on Friday, after a great literacy event hosted by ASL first graders, I treated myself to lunch at a cooking school with some other women who live in the area. We had a great time chopping veggies for our shrimp risotto (our chef instructor did a very quick run down/demo of what we were supposed to do, then turned us loose with knives, garbage bowls, vegetables and shrimp). And quail. With their heads on.
We had to whack them off (the heads), then break the quails’ backs, gut them and cut the birds into four pieces. It was hideous. But at least all 10 of us were in it together.

Suffice it to say in future, should I decide quail is on the menu, I’ll pay the bigger bucks to have it cleaned. Therein I can handle removing the liver or whatever, giving it a rinse and a pat w/ a paper towel.

We then seasoned our little birds, tossed them in a hot skillet (w/ olive oil), added a big dollop of honey and some soy sauce and served them over a bed of seasoned rocket tossed w/ citrus sections, citrus juice and good olive oil. Fabulous.

Our main course was risotto – we ran short on time so our chef friend pinch hit for us, didn’t season it enough though. And dessert, which we did not make but did plate (panna cotta with strawberry sauce) was to die for.

We got to eat all this around a big wooden table, sipping a lovely white wine. I’d do that again in a heartbeat, with or without those little quail waiting for some savagery.

Since Joe headed for the US Friday, the kids and I wandered over to the Clifton Pub for dinner (minors are ok in many pubs for early dinners -- i.e. before 7:00 – there’s even a guide to best pubs for families here).

CP is a few blocks from us and apparently Kate Moss hangs out there occasionally. No doubt she could walk by and I’d be oblivious (I’m not much of a People reader, I guess). When we were there it looked like a pretty non-descript crowd, though. Good food, nice change of pace.

Saturday we headed off to the London Zoo again because now that we’re members, why not?!? (Plus we need to maximize the membership!) This time we shopped (birthday parties and who doesn’t like a gift from the zoo, plus we get a discount), hit the merry-go-round, checked out the butterflies, monkeys, burrowing animals and giraffes and that was enough for one day, as we had a birthday party to hit later. Kids had lots of fun at both. (Apparently at British b-day parties the cake isn’t eaten at the party, it’s toted home and consumed later. This being an American family, kids ate their Madeline cake on site.)

Real Food Festival

And today so totally rocked – we went to the Real Food Festival at Earl’s Court. The place was foodie heaven – tons of stalls with olives, fresh juices, yogurt, cheeses, hams/prosciuttos/salamis/cured meats galore, sausages/lamb/pork/beef (free range, organic, salt marsh…), eggs, pickles, oils and more oils (including rapeseed), pates, honey, PB, cookies, crackers, breads…on and on and on.

I never did eat lunch, just tasted my way through until I no longer wanted anything bitesize!

Kids made off with all kinds of freebies (last day of the festival always helps). Aside from all the food, they enjoyed Petals the water buffalo (yes, in the middle of this thing was a big black water buffalo w/ a ring through her nose – quite pampered, quite a contrast to many of the water buffalo we saw in India). They both brushed and petted her, tried several pieces of buffalo mozzarella, some buffalo ice cream, etc. We watched a demo on stretching mozzarella, too. The guy who did it made different shapes with the cheese (a chicken, a pig, etc.).

Claire got to feed some bum lambs, there were chickens in a cage to admire, a jersey cow and her twins were chewing their cud and a 30 minute sheep show captivated half the crowd (the guy doing that brought 8 or 10 sheep out on stage, one at a time, to music (i.e. “Pretty Woman”).

Each had a name tag and stood or sat eating grain at his/her station as the guy told about the various breeds and what they offer (prolific parenting, for example, bigger lamb steaks, ability to survive in rainy climates, optimum wool for specific uses, etc).

He did a shearing demo (first hair cut for one of these fluffy sheep) and left us with the sheep dancing on stage. Great mix of fun and interesting facts about the wool/sheep industry in the UK. (Sucks to be in the wool biz here now; one fleece is worth 50 pence and it costs 1 pound to shear…and still the farmer carries on…)

After four hours of food, we trekked back, loaded down with oil and salami, the best parmesan I’ve had in ages, a big round of bread, some PB (what can I say; I LOVE peanut butter and nowadays I’m into the natural kind) and various other odds and ends. Next foodie excursion I’ll bring a packhorse. Joe lucked out; 1) he didn’t have to carry anything and 2) he didn’t have to suffer through me traversing every inch of the place – his mode of operandi at these things is to eat and run.

What have we been up to lately? With the move, broadband wars, the TV guy who (apparently) doesn’t want to do the job (or at least at 4:15 on Friday he wasn’t up to the challenge) and the day to day stuff it suddenly became May! It’s all been good (British telecom/Skye TV aside) but I haven’t really thought much about blogging. Or else have simply been too tired. Oh the days of hotel living when someone else cleaned the floor…

Last week Claire and I had a delightful day – she had Thurs. free so we went to the Natural History Museum to check out 1) dinosaurs 2) mammals and 3) some human biology. In that order per Claire. (Glad we didn’t get too in depth on the latter; I’m not ready for some of those conversations, and some of the exhibits were pretty clear.)

The museum is IMMENSE and even if we are here for three years I doubt if we’ll see all of it (something like 15 miles worth of exhibits). The dinosaur exhibit is way cool, mammal stuff we enjoyed too – though having recently been to the zoo we weren’t as captivated. And Claire enjoyed the video of baby growing in utero. We finished w/ pasties and shepherd’s pie for lunch (so British, right?).

Friday evening Joe and I wandered Piccadilly Circus; it was a gorgeous day so tons of people were out and about, some pig flu activists (?) looking for an audience, among other things. We landed on an inviting Mediterranean café for dinner – great lamb. I must say that’s my meat of choice here; beef has been a bit of a disappointment. Save that for the good old USA!

Eggs here are great too – big, brown and yolks are golden. The real thing. (Why don’t they refrigerate them, though? I don’t get that. I got it in India…refrigeration is hit and miss for meat, let alone anything that might have a shelf life of its own for awhile.)

Scones of course rock. Kidney pie and other internal organs haven’t grabbed me yet. Don’t hold your breath on any reviews from me on that stuff. Let’s focus though; I’ll eat raw fish (sushi rocks) but a cooked kidney: NO Way. Now does that make any sense?!?

Suffice it to say plenty of great food options in this town…I could go on all day about the cheese and bread alone. Each time I buy cheese I get a different type. I’m most impressed w/ the kids; they’ve found a goat cheese they love.

Over the weekend we headed off to Stonehenge with my Ancient Britain class. Saturday was a gorgeous day, we got an early start and were whisked out of London via ASL school bus into gorgeous green rolling countryside. A stark contrast to busy London and absolutely gorgeous.

Our trip was a family friendly event with kids of a variety of ages – Ava up to teenagers. The girls hit it off with another girl on the trip, and we all spent lots of time outside, so kids had fun running wild around monuments that date to 3000 B.C. (Let’s focus; 3000 B.C. And I think of the medieval ages as long ago.)

Stonehenge itself is roped off so you can’t get as up close and personal as you used to (first time I was there in high school we leaned on the stones and had photos taken). Apparently after bits of the stone were being ratcheted off, some security measures were put in place. No, the class from Dillon, Montana, didn’t make off w/ pieces of Stonehenge, though I wonder what they’d go for on ebay?

However, when we went to Avebury, another ancient monument with big stones carefully positioned, much like Stonehenge in terms of size of stones and deliberate “presentation,” sheep are grazing near the big stones (so we judiciously dodged the doo doo) and we could touch and examine them (the stones, the sheep not so much).

We did the audio tour of Stonehenge, listened to much conjecture about the site, some of the old myths surrounding it and pondered over its meaning, how it came to be and why, and why then did its use fizzle…

Any ideas?

From Stonehenge we headed to the Wiltshire Heritage Museum in Devizes, founded in 1853. It is housed in the old Victorian Devizes Grammar School and two Georgian houses on either side, housing artefacts from famous excavations on Salisbury Plain and the Marlborough Downs.

After checking out the Bronze and Iron age exhibits, we checked into The Bear Hotel, just up the street in Devizes, a small market town in the heart of the English county of Wiltshire, southern UK.

Across the street from the Bear Hotel was a market so lots of activity on a Saturday morning.

And with regard to the Bear Hotel, it too has a historical past it's been in business for 3 centuries. Not only have famous patrons such as ourselves stayed there, King George III and Queen Charlotte were guests a while back. (Apparently she noted – in 1817 – that she had an “elegant repast” at the Bear and that the landlord put at her disposal “10 pairs of horses as fine as any were put to harness.”

We had lunch at the hotel (bright green mashed peas, among other things), then headed off to see West Kennet Long Barrow and Silbury Hill. The former is one of the most well-preserved burial chambers in Britain. It extends 10 meters into a mound, consists of five separate chambers and is thought to have been constructed around 3500 B.C. It was used for 1,000 years, then sealed with chalk rubble and huge sarcen boulders (sarcen being a very hard rock).

Excavation revealed that 50 people were buried within the tomb.

Nearby is Silbury Hill, another prehistoric monument: a 130-ft. high man-made chalk mound. Archaeologists calculate that it was built about 4750 years ago and that it took 18 million man-hours, or 500 men working 15 years to deposit and shape 8.75 million feet of earth and fill on top of a natural hill.

Phew. Makes me tired even thinking about it.

From there we crashed at the hotel, wandered the town and had dinner at the George and Dragon, a nearby Gastropub. Good food, good company!

On Saturday after breakfast at The Bear we piled on the bus, this time to Avebury, the largest known stone ring in the world. Like Stonehenge and other megalithic monuments in Britain, Avebury was added to and altered during several periods. It is estimated that Avebury was used for around 2300 years and may have been the most significant sacred site in all of Britain, if not Europe.

We spent some time at two museums in Avebury – the Barn Gallery (great exhibit, very kid friendly) and the Alexander Keiller Museum – then wandered some nearby gardens and had lunch at the National Trust restaurant.

Our last prehistoric chapter was a walk through Avebury with Mike Pitts, editor of British Archeology (and expert in all things Avebury).

He provided great insight which frankly I’m too tired to regurgitate at the moment. Suffice it to say he brought the Ancient Britain class material alive with his expertise and obvious passion for his work. With him we traipsed the hills past ancient stones as they wound their way toward the two circles, where sheep roam and through which a village sits. Again, a lovely setting.

After quick tea we headed back to London with a bit deeper understanding of Britain B.C. (or with more questions about what really did take place around these stones so long ago...).

Settling into Alma Square

Well I must say I do like our new digs – house is very narrow with plenty of stairs – kitchen/living and dining downstairs, opening out into a community garden. So far that’s a big hit with the kids, especially since they’ve had a couple of impromptu play dates with some neighbor children.

The street seems a mix – some of the brownstones have been turned into apartments so single dwellers/couples mixed with families. No big North Carolina or Texas welcome wagon, though. Not exactly your suburbia “where are you from? We brought you cookies…join us for coffee.” But no unfriendly vibes, either (despite a note we received before moving in said "welcome to the neighborhood. That said, please keep your music down"). I haven't heard since responding with a note that said: Thanks for the welcome. But since we haven't moved in yet, I'm not sure how we can address the loud music..."

We ended last week with a theatre date; Joe and I saw Carousel, which we very much enjoyed, especially from our 3rd row seats. (Any closer and the lead would have been spitting all over us; he was a bit saliva-ish in his delivery.)

Carousel is a poignant story with incredible staging – I am amazed at how sets can be created to replicate movement (i.e. a carousel going around) in a static environment.

On Saturday we slept in and went out for a late breakfast at a French café in St. Johns Wood. The area is filled with cafes; my favorite is a different little French spot – a patisserie with decadent desserts and the best hot chocolate I’ve found yet. Plus the waiters there speak French, newspapers are in French, croissants scream topnotch butter and cream. No doubt the cows that produced them are French too.

Anyway, breakfast was good, ran some errands and relaxed in our new home; what started as a rainy day became lovely, thus the garden was full of people enjoying the sunshine.

Sunday we stopped at Covent Gardens for a couple hours after Mass. Again, sunny day so many people were out and about, enjoying the street performers. They actually have to audition to get spots at Covent Garden and many, thus, are quite good so it’s fun to watch. We perched on high stools and enjoyed baked potatoes and pasties for lunch.

On the way home dozens of marathon supporters were climbing on the tube; the London marathon started at 9 on Sunday. No need for us to join in; sometimes I think we walk half a marathon on a regular basis.

As for the work week, so continues my frustration with BT (British telecom)…will we ever have broadband?!?

Thursday

Ok I'm exhausted. As much as I enjoy moving locations, the actual process does suck me dry (could be because I feel a need to get EVERYTHING unpacked and put away in record time).

Actually, most things are finding homes and coming together nicely -- it helps not to move an entire house; the lack of toys alone is fabulous! I do like living "light;" I'm sure my husband will love it when we move home and I get rid of 2/3 of what we've accumulated...

As for being wired in, I'm now thoroughly confused. BT, which canceled my phone order twice, now tells me I don't need an engineer and that my phone line should simply be active. (Since our phones aren't charged I can't begin to tell you if that's accurate or if he's blowing smoke you know where.) Meanwhile I received a text message confirming that a BT engineer will be at my house Friday at 120 pound charge. But guy on phone says no engineer, no charge. Are they really working for the same company?

Internet of course CAN'T come on until Monday; they couldn't give me a good reason for that. Let's just hope it actually does work when the time comes...

And the TV people have given me the typical "appointment" timeframe: just be home between 9 and 6 on Friday, ma'am. I was told yesterday that TV service here is a misnomer. So we'll see what happens on Friday in TV land.

In the midst of all my organizing, unpacking and cleaning, I danced off to a St. Johns Wood Women's Club meeting and my Ancient Britian Class yesterday. Fabulous break!

At the first event there was a speaker who talked about Olympic Park. Apparently the area in which the village is being constructed boasts the worst five boroughs in all of England. So as money and construction pour into the place, efforts are being made to create facilities/infrastructure that can be maintained longer term. Unemployment is part of what is being addressed within the community -- will be interesting to see how much success the effort has in future.

It turns out Olympic Park will be at the end of our tube line, about a 20 minute ride. Olympics, here we come! (Provided we're still here, naturally.) Tours are given of the Park as it comes to life, so I think the SJWWC is looking into one for fall -- would be fun to see it before it's actually up and running.

The women at the meeting seem like a neat group, variety of ages and backgrounds with many different interests...hiking, lunches, teas, book group, stitching, theatre, happy hours, etc. I anticipate fitting some of their activities in to enhance my time in London.

My Ancient Britain class rocked; we'll go to Stonehenge in a couple of weeks to actually see what we've been learning about. Families are welcome so the kids and Joe are coming, too.

After class it was back to reality with house stuff, though such a gorgeous day that we had the doors thrown open and Ava's picked half the community garden to decorate our kitchen table. (Maybe that's why my eyes are swollen? Hello pollen!) Apparently it's one of the warmest Aprils on record here. They must have known I was coming and that I simply can't handle the slightest chill.

Cheers and happy Thursday!

Moving!

After a busy Monday on the move end of things, I'm happy to report we have hot water and heat. I now know how to work the system (small things in life, critical).

I got a call from the furniture company yesterday morning at 8:30, saying they were at the house...Ava and I were at the old house waiting on the packing crew. (A in her nightie and I hadn't showered). We mobilized with water and clothes and as we were walking out the door to let the furniture folks into the new house, the doorbell buzzed. Packers.

So we oriented them, then headed out to meet up w/ furniture folks, who'd gone to have tea while they waited.

All went quite smoothly if a bit hectic; at one point there were 15 men in the house.

And w/ regard to TV, phone and internet service, it looks like Friday 2 out of 3 may happen, Monday the 3rd (I'm not holding my breath here).

On tap today: some unpacking and Ava and I will escape the chaos for a bit to enjoy what promises to be gorgeous weather!

Easter and the rest of spring break

Easter

We started our day with chocolate in bed (it was Easter, afterall), then headed to St. Nicholas Church for Mass (it was one of a few churches w/ masses in English). Droves weren’t lining up for seats – a first. Those C&E Christians must have all been at the Flemish and French masses.

We took our loitering to a sidewalk café and had doughnuts and pastries for breakfast. Nothing like more sugar before 10 a.m.

After a nice mass, officiated by an American priest, we looked for the cannon ball still lodged in the nave from the French invasion in the 1600’s; we can attest that it is still there.

From the church we wandered to an art market near the square – candles in the form of beer, jewelry, clothes, figurines that whistled like birds (novel but after a day the thing would lose its squawk in our house). Nothing we couldn’t live without.

We checked out some of the shopping arcades in lovely old buildings off the square, found a lace souvenir for Claire (small pillow with what she claims has 3 uses: necklace storage, American doll accessory, Xmas tree décor).

Ava, naturally, wasn’t far behind in the need for a souvenir. We found a row of purses for the change she keeps finding on the sidewalk (it pays, quite literally, to be close to the ground, apparently). Ava is now sporting a Bruxelles purse for her change.

Per a recommendation by the lace shop owner, we lunched at a little Italian place – non-touristy. Lovely food, local crowd and a staff that spoke very little English, a whole lot of Italian. Joe asked the kitchen crew what the house specialty was and after blank stares they all said “pasta.” (Isn’t every house specialty in Italy pasta?!?)

After lunch we tracked down dessert – I wanted a waffle with nutella and whipped cream at Patty’s favorite waffle shop. As usual, she was on target – it was superb. Kids wanted ice cream (they’re both really into lemon sorbet these days). Low and behold we came upon an ice cream truck on our way to the Royal Palace, so we sat by a fountain overlooking lovely Brussels while they consumed their sorbet.(When I was a kid it was all about vanilla ice cream; I’m still not a big sorbet fan. Does this mean my ice cream tastes are less grown up than my children's?)

Claire and I hit the ancient art portion of the Musee des Artes, spent much time viewing artwork by the Flemish masters. It was a truly great couple of hours and we eventually left when they kicked us out (closing time).

Meanwhile Joe and Ava made their way back to the hotel, stopping at the The Église Notre Dame du Sablon (Church of Our Lady of Sablon) en route (Claire and I did the same thing on our way through).

Built in the 15th and 16th centuries, Notre Dame du Sablon is "noted for its four-fold gallery with brightly colored stained-glass windows, a striking contrast with the gray-white Gothic arches and walls."

Also inside: two baroque chapels decorated with funeral symbols in white marble and the celebrated statue of St. Hubert -- it was once stolen and taken to Antwerp but was seized and returned to the church in 1348, where it has remained.

While Ava ate free chocolate eggs at the hotel and Joe sampled more Belgian beer, Claire and I stopped for photos and to look over the city by the Place Poelart (where the lovely Palais de Justice sits – the domes weighs 24,000 tons) and the war memorial.

All of us collapsed for a bit, then had dinner at a pub nearby – casual place with good stuempf (sp?) – local sausage/mashed potato/vegetable specialty), great Parmesan croquettes (does it get any better than fried cheese) and live music. Not bad.

Easter Monday

We wandered Brussels this morning, stopping for waffles and ice cream for breakfast, then checking out a couple of churches (feeling quite holy on this trip).

Notre Dame de la Chapelle (Our Lady of the Chapel) is a large Romanesque-Gothic church; construction on it began in 1210 and was completed by the end of the 13th century (thus marking the transition between Romanesque and Gothic styles; the transept and choir are Romanesque-Gothic, most of the remainder is in the Flamboyant Gothic style). Which I guess means there’s a non-flamboyant Gothic style?

Notre Dame de la Chapelle is notable as the burial place of Francois Anneessens (1660-1719), a Brussels hero who lost his head for campaigning for civil rights. It’s also the burial site of Pieter Brueghel the Elder and his wife.

The other church we popped into escapes my memory, other than it is very old and looks that much older sandwiched between modern buildings on the busy, broad and tree lined Avenue Louise (quite the contrast to the more historical Brussels, with its narrow, windy streets that seem to lead easily from site to site but make map orientation confusing. Best to wander and wing it, I guess).

We later ended up in the city park near the Royal Palace, where it was international playtime at its best: Muslim kids, English kids, Italian kids, French and Flemish speaking kids, African kids…and of course American kids.

Then it was onto the train station for our Eurostar trip back to London, lovely day here, trees are in bloom and gorgeous. One near us has already left a carpet of white petals on the pavement.

And the remainder of spring break?

Kids and I hit the London Zoo, a great place – yes, it should be for the amount of money we and every other family in London w/ a spring breaker spent on Tuesday). I must say it’s a startling contrast to the Delhi zoo. I do believe the animals at both zoos are well treated, with clean, natural habitats and all that.

But…for under $2, the Delhi one rocked. Of course we were scared to try the ice cream, which was the only snack available, and the bathroom wasn’t up to the same standards held for the zoo inhabitants. And while the Delhi zoo experience was pretty much only about the animals (and us being stared at, pointed at, talked about and photographed by curious Indians), the London Zoo features all kinds of special events, fundraisers, partnerships, talks and demonstrations, playgrounds, cafes, carnival equipment, on and on and on.

Oh, and HEAVY with the conservation messages. If you find me politely escorting spiders outside rather than whacking them with a shoe, you’ll know it’s due to the London Zoo’s brain washing.)

Anyway, with tix, lunch, ice cream and one ride on the merry go round, we left just under $100 with the fine London Zoo people. They actually asked if I wanted to donate MORE money. I think I covered that pretty well.

Despite all that we’ve decided to become members (really, going twice is more expensive than joining for a year, and since membership will recoup our last week’s ticket expenditure, I’m for it…plus said zoo is only a 10 minute walk from us.
(I’ve seen the giraffes a few times on my morning walks, scratching their necks on their doorway.) I do believe we’ll go there enough to take advantage of joining. (Can’t you just see it: “do you want to go to the zoo? Not today mom. Well too bad. We paid for it so you will go and you will enjoy it, @!X$#!”).

We also hit the National Wildlife Photography exhibit, which is in town for a few more days at the National History Museum – very cool and very worth seeing if you get the chance.

And on Thursday, when it rained, we went to one of those noisy indoor play areas where every child screams at the top of their lungs. It was great fun. (I hope you can hear the sarcasm coming through my keyboard.)

Other highlights:

Ava cut her hair. Must be a rite of passage for the 2-5 year old crowd, right? I caught Claire cutting hers when she was 3 or so…I did not find Ava cutting her hair, I found her hair near shards of paper and blunt, plastic green handled scissors. Thus Ava is now sporting a chic little bob per the 8 pound Great Clips equivalent up the road.

Halfway through the haircut she burst into tears, said something about her stomach. After consolation and quick action by the hairdresser we hit a café for a snack (I thought she was starving; sometimes she becomes cranky or maudlin when in need of food). That’s when it came out: she was sobbing because “I look like a boy; I hate my hair cut. Can’t we just pull it and make it longer again?”

After plenty of comments about her princess looks, she now preens about her new ‘do.

And after voracious Claire/Ava fighting through the grocery store and into the tube the other day, I watched as Ava stuck her tongue out at Claire all the way home on the subway. Unbeknownst to her (or maybe she knew and was loving the audience bit) everyone in our tube car was watching her as she leaned over and stuck her tongue out at Claire as many different ways as one’s tongue can be stuck out. I couldn’t see Claire face from my vantage point but I suspect she had her arms crossed in anger and was giving Ava a look of rage.

Saturday we had a lovely time at the Household Cavalry Museum, where first we watched the changing of the guard in the courtyard adjacent to the museum. Big, black horses with impeccably dressed riders sporting red and white, plumes and armor vests, strode out, later joined by a larger procession coming down the street near Buckingham Palace.

They then stood around for a very long time, as did we and a growing crowd, waiting for something to happen. Eventually it did; they went through a ceremony, then some guards went one way, the other group another – they rode by within a couple of feet of us. Incredibly beautiful animals and such grace and dignity of horsemen.

This whole thing took about an hour, we then headed into the museum and checked it out – learned about the lengthy process involved in grooming, training, preparing costumes daily, the history of the guards and their activities around London and abroad. Through a glassed wall you can actually see the stables, the big black rumps of the horses, some coming and going with guards leading them, other groomsmen watering, feeding and cleaning.

Very cool experience.

More about the Household Cavalry Museum:

The Household Cavalry Museum sits within Horse Guards in Whitehall, central London, which dates from 1750. It is still the headquarters of the Household Division, and the Household Cavalry has continued to perform the Queen’s Life Guard, a daily ceremony which has remained relatively unchanged for over 350 years.
The Household Cavalry was formed in 1661 under the direct order of King Charles II and now consists of the two senior regiments of the British Army – The Life Guards and the Blues and Royals.
They have two roles: as a mounted regiment (on horseback) they guard Her Majesty The Queen on ceremonial occasions in London and across the UK and are a key part of the Royal pageantry; as an operational regiment they serve around the world in armored fighting vehicles. They currently have units deployed in Iraq and Afghanistan.

And in other news…

Naturally w/ the move to our new house, we’ve spent plenty of time and energy getting things set up, only to find we have no hot water, the heat won’t turn on, my phone order has been cancelled twice, my TV hook up once and broadband…who knows?!? And people really thought we were crazy for living in hotel? Hello?

Saturday in Bruges

Today we headed to Bruges via train from Brussels Midi – hopped a cab wherein the driver asked if 10 Euro would be ok rather than the meter…as the meter would be cheaper. Hello?!? And no, it wasn’t far to the station, obviously, but Claire has done an awful lot of walking and no doubt Bruges would be a lot of footwork.
The driver’s excuse for wanting 10 euros from us for a 6 euro ride was because he had to sit at the hotel for an hour waiting for a customer. And we were supposed to compensate for this?

The ride to Bruges was quick, kids enjoyed the train and the deep green farmland, small villages with lovely churches and steeples, brick houses with triangular roofs, a few horses and cows sprinkled in, made for a lovely view.

We were in Bruges by 11, headed for the city center and hit the canal ride first. A nice way to tour the city from the water, our guide gave a spiel in 6 different languages (diverse group of tourists, obviously).

Bruges’ many gorgeous buildings dating back to the 11th century are mainly intact as the city was untouched during both world wars. Thus it’s a lovely place…gorgeous architecture, winding streets, canals, flowers in bloom.

Five km of canals around the city are devoted to tourism. The area used to be at sea level and you can still take canals out to sea (the outer ones, not the ones we sailed). The boat took us under bridges built in the 13th and 15th centuries. We saw many of the city’s key sites – old hospital (now museum), a house that looks like a church, cathedral, many other churches (I think there are 16 or more, and only one of them isn’t Catholic).

Today Bruges has a large Italian population, per our boat driver. People here speak Flemish as it’s in one of Belgium’s Flemish states (I think he said 4 are Flemish speaking, 4 French).

After the boat ride we looked for the Godiva factory but apparently it’s left Bruges so we took refuge at a pub near the fish market for lunch. We sat outside and enjoyed the sunshine, beer and grilled ham and cheese sandwiches. This was after attempting to eat at an Italian restaurant that looked like it had great pizza (apparently I hadn’t gotten my fill from the previous night).

When we came in (kids and me), the waitress looked at us and said “no.” Not sure if that meant no room, no kids or no stroller -- or all the above -- but we made haste to depart.

Joe waved at the patrons in the window on the way by later.

From lunch we headed to the chocolate museum – a more upscale version than the one in Brussels. We got samples on the way in and wandered through 3 floors of chocolate info – history, marketing, manufacturing, etc. The last stop was the kitchen, where a chef was giving a demo and distributing REALLY good chocolate.
We then wandered the neighborhood around the chocolate museum and found a lovely church, Baroque style.

After a stroll along the canals we jumped into a long line for a horse carriage ride per Claire’s request. Thankfuly it was in the town square area, which makes for great people watching. Plenty of sidewalk cafes, some carnival rides, snack stands, etc.

Eventually Lynn and Bernard (Lynn being the carriage driver, Bernard the big black horse in front) picked us up, charged us an exhorbitant amount of money for a 45 minute ride around the city and off we went.

Claire sat next to Lynn on the buckboard for the first half of the ride, Ava for the second. Bernard rootie toot tooted on Ava’s watch -- Ava rolled her eyes at Lynn, much to the latter's amusement. Kids got to see Bernard get a snack and water break half way through the ride. No doubt the horses have a good gig going in Belgium, in contrast to those poor over used animals in India -- here they work every other day, have food/water breaks in the midst of each ride and only give 8 rides per day. (I actually believe it; the lobby for animal care is probably just as vocal as it is for human health care in Belgium).

After a fun jaunt around town, Lynn gave us a recommendation for dinner – traditional Flemish food at a nearby restaurant. Lovely, warm little place with Flemish tapestries on the walls.

Joe and I got the fillet for two, the kids shared a fried fish and we all dove into the fries – very good meal with a lovely bottle of red wine to accompany it. For dessert Claire opted for lemon sorbet, A for 3 kinds of ice cream (she’s into coffee flavored ice cream these days – I need someone to be a fellow coffee connoisseur in the future), I had a decadent chocolate mousse and Joe had some ice cream concoction.

As we made our way to the train station we stopped in the cathedral – the largest building in town, which also boasts the lengthiest history of any in Bruges. (Holy Savior Cathedral was not originally built to be a cathedral; when it was founded in the 10th century it was a common parish church.) Over time it's grown and changed, becoming a cathedral in the 19th century.

The path to the station took us to another town square and fountain, lots of flowers and plenty of people out and about. We hit the station at 8:29, ran for the 8:31 train to Brussels and voila – arrived an hour later!

Good Friday in Brussels

After sleeping in we headed out in search of waffles for breakfast – alas settling for decadent pastries at a lovely little Belgian café near the hotel. (Seemed quite French to me, maybe that’s an affront to the Belgians – who knows?)

Our hotel was city centre so lots of shops and businesses around us – little side streets lined w/ restaurants. We sat outside; the weather was lovely – blue skies and warm.

After coffee, decadent hot chocolate, chocolate croissants for Joe and Claire, a scrumptious cherry pastry for me and a chocolate brownie for Ava, we were sugared up and ready to start our day. (The brownie was masquerading as a muffin, but it ended up being more like fudge cake. I'll justify by stating that since muffins are generally cakelike, what does it matter if we go straight for the heavy duty dessert?!?)

We took the tram to the Grand Market area and checked out the Cathedral. (It’s actually the St. Michael and Gudula Cathedral, but that’s a bit of a mouthful, isn’t it?)

Named for the patron saints of Belgium, said Cathedras is Belgium’s primary church, completed in 1047, when Saint Gudula’s relics were transferred to it. (Apparently she was the daughter of a 7th-century Carolingian nobleman).

In the 1200’s the cathedral was renovated in the Gothic style; the choir was constructed between 1226 and 1276, the facade was completed in the mid 15th century.
Today the Cathedral of St. Michael and Gudula is the episcopal see of the Archbishop of Mechlin-Brussels and therefore the leading Catholic church in Belgium. It’s also the site of all royal weddings and christenings.

Of note: the stained glass windows, designed by various artists including Bernard van Orley, a 16th-century court painter, whose windows are the most spectacular (per the Cathedral’s web site – they all looked good to me).

When we wandered through a painting exhibit – folds – was sprinkled throughout the place. Beautiful, a bit ethereal, folds of cloth were painted in various hues of cream, symbolizing Christ’s ascension.

The church was also being prepared for Easter, with several laides putting gorgeous bright yellow flower arrangements together behind the altar.

From the Cathedral, set on a hill overlooking the city, we headed down to the cartoon museum. There caricatures and cartoon strips, historical information about the development of cartoon art, freedom of speech and information about Belgian’s renowned cartoonists is displayed. It was a beautifully organized, inviting exhibit, much of it in French and Flemish, but we gleaned a greater understanding of the process through artists’ tools and works in progress and could appreciate the sheer artistry and work that went into making the hundreds of strips housed in the museum. A couple of TV screens also featured cartoons the kids enjoyed.

After the cartoon museum we went in search of the legendary Belgian waffles, were pointed to an outdoor stand by a restauranteur soliciting for business. Success! The kids each got chocolate ones, warm and melty. They ate outside by St. Nicholas church. We then traced our steps back to the restauranteur who’d helped us out and opted to eat at his seafood restaurant, set on one of the narrow streets lined with al fresco dining spots.

Our perch was great for people watching -- outside, tucked into a corner away from the walking path. Tourists, locals, families, Asian tour groups, ladies out shopping, teenagers with loads of piercings, men smoking, plenty of dogs being walked…we saw a little of everything meander by.

For lunch Joe and I tried a couple of leffe beers (light and a little darker – good, but I liked Jupiler better) and some fabulous whole grain rolls, shrimp that was outstanding, fries and chicken. At the table adjacent to us a pampered pooch had its own seat with a group of ladies. The dog was dressed in a snappy little outfit and was being hand fed mussels by its owner. Rough life.

After lunch we wandered to the square; Claire and I peeled off to check out the fashion and lace museum, which is fabulous. It’s tucked away on a side street near tons of lace shops – 3 stories of fashion exhibits very tastefully done.

We were given a guide in English w/ verbiage corresponding to a number on each dress exhibited so we took turns reading about the evolution of fashion in the 1950’s, 60’s and 70’s. Gorgeous day, evening, cocktail and wedding dresses were exhibited, having been produced by couture houses, many worn by models.

The brochure had all kinds of details on fastenings, pleats, types of sleeves, some of the events to which they were worn. Along with the dress displays were some photos of the women who’d worn the gowns, and hats, furs, patterns, lace and other accessories were showcased.

We rejoined Joe and Ava for ice cream, then rubbed our hands over the brass effigy of the mediaeval knight ‘t Serclaes near Town Hall for good luck. (He defended the city in the 14th century, saving it from falling into the clutches of the Count of Flanders).

From there we tried another chocolate shop (why not?!).

No doubt a sugar crash led us back to the hotel for recovery, then we wandered out for dinner, settling on an Italian sidewalk café. Our waiter, an elderly man with round glasses, took our order. He stood at the end of the table and simply shouted everything we wanted to his staff nearby. Food and drinks were delivered by a swarm of young, fast-moving Italians. Not a bad gig that older waiter has (maybe he owns the join?!?).

Anyway, great pizza (just like those mouth watering pizzas we ate a ton of when I roved Italy 18 years ago – am I that old? Was it really that long ago?). Claire’s chocolate mousse was out of this world.

Off to Brussels on Maundy Thursday

Easter/Spring Break

I’ll work backwards on this one…Happy Belated Easter to all; we spent ours in Belgium, where there certainly seem to be – quite appropriately – plenty of churches. And we wandered through a number of them (lovely but like Hindu temples, they start to blend together in one’s mind, or at least in mine).

Anyway, we had a lovely holiday, left on Maundy Thursday (Holy Thursday in our neck of the woods). Apparently in England the term is widely used, though not so in Ireland, and its use varies geographically and from religion to religion. So there you go, I’ve just increased your vocabulary.

Our Maundy Thursday started with us scrambling to get out the door as our mini-cab driver (cab isn’t smaller than a black one, just not the same cool London cab you see in all the ads…but it’s cheaper. And at least in this instance, efficient – maybe too efficient).

We got to Saint Pancras train station in plenty of time, retrieved our Eurostar tickets from the machine, zipped through security and immigration, then hopped on the 8:34 a.m. train to Brussels.

Easy, relaxing, clean train ride and speedy too – we were in Brussels 2 hours and 15 minutes later. (At times the thing goes 180 mph.)

Plenty of tunnels, green green green grass/farmland (now I’m dying to see more of the English countryside, especially this time of year). Upon arrival at the train station we of course had to hit a bathroom; en route we passed a mime, a violinist and a lady in the loo handing out cookies. (Yes, Claire has us all calling it the loo at this point.)

We cabbed it to our hotel, then headed via tram to the Grand Place, Brussels’ “center” spot, if you will. Certainly for tourists. Our first stop was lunch. We found a great restaurant near the square located in an old cellar built in the 1600’s. It was cozy and warm on a gray Belgium day, menu was all Greek to us – well French – waiter helped us out though.

Joe’s burger arrived w/ a fried egg on top, the chicken fillets came with pasta sauce, much to the girls’ consternation and I very much enjoyed Belgium’s traditional dish: mussels and French fries. (The fries here are big, meaty and crispy. Perfect. They make McDonalds look puny and cheap.)

That and Belgium beer and we were set.

From there we hit the chocolate museum, located in an old house near the main square – 3 floors of chocolate information and memorabilia.

First we were given samples – yum – then caught part of a chocolate demonstration (in French). The woman in the apron was pouring rich, delicious smelling chocolate into molds. Looked good to me.

Other aspects of the exhibit dealt with growing cocoa beans, harvest, fermentation, drying, etc. Work intensive. The exhibit referenced how the popularity of chocolate spread, how originally it was just a drink, etc.

Then on to Neuhaus (one of doznes of chocolate shops) to sample more Belgian chocolate. We sat outside amidst the growing crowd in the square – lots of people out and about enjoying the warm day (the sun had decided to join us), then we went to the Brussels City museum, which is in the King's House (a lovely, ornate old building) in the Grand'place of Brussels. (The museum opened its doors as such in 1887.)

The top floor boasts 600+ costumes donated to the city for the statue Manneken Pis (Dutch for little pee man). A famous Brussels landmark, Manneken Pis is a fountain sculpture depicting a naked little boy urinating into the fountain's basin.

On various occasions the statue is costumed, changed according to a schedule managed by the non-profit association The Friends of Manneken-Pis, in ceremonies that are often accompanied by brass band music (per wikipedia).
On occasion, the statue is hooked up to a keg of beer and cups are handed to passers-by.

The Manneken Pis costumes we saw at the museum reflect various countries, areas of Belgium, occupations, military branches, global causes, stars (i.e. Elvis), ways of life, etc. An interactive computer gave more detail on costume donors, when they were donated, etc.

We then checked out the other floors of the museum – different aspects of Brussels’ history and art – city development, fire, paintings, sculptures, etc.

Then we headed off to find the infamous statue, winding through narrow streets and checking out all the chocolate shops and lace shops. Plenty of bars and cafes, too. I suspect people here spend plenty of money on beer, coffee and chocolate. I joined in as much as possible, throwing in a few waffles, too.

Ava soon feel asleep in the stroller – bumpy cobblestones and all. (If the stroller decomposes before our eyes it will be because of Brussels’ streets.)

At our last stop – St. Nicholas Church – they were setting up for the Last Supper. Since we weren’t invited we elected to collapse at the hotel.

About the Church (it has an interesting history so I will bore you w/ the details):

One of the oldest churches in Brussels, Saint Nicholas Church was named after Saint Nicholas, the patron saint of the traders because the market was just around the corner. The church was built in an asymmetrical way because a small brook used to run through the street.

The entrance to Saint Nicholas dates from the second half of the 12th century, the choir was completed in 1381 and the side-chapel, devoted to the Holy Virgin, was constructed in 1486.

During religious troubles in the 16th century, the church was plundered and in 1695, during the bombing of Brussels by the French troops, it burned completely. In one of the pillars of the Holy Virgin chapel a canon ball can still be seen (we saw it).
During the Middle Ages St. Nicholas’ tower served as the city belfry (watchtower), but in 1714 it collapsed, killing 1 man and 1 pig – is that a holy way to go or what?).

In 1929 a plan was proposed to demolish the church because it hindered the traffic in the Boterstraat. This plan was never executed, and the old houses surrounding the church have also been preserved.

For dinner we hit a French restaurant near the hotel. Our waitress walked us through the menu – we had to laugh as she described the poultry dish – “it’s between a chicken and a turkey.” (What might that be? Wasn’t a duck; she described that later.)
Re: the last dish…we didn’t understand her first explanation so she said “balls” quite clearly with a gesture to get the point across.

We didn’t order the tur-chicken or the rocky mountain oysters, instead opting for lamb, beef and pasta. All good, lovely ambience and service.

Shopping, Cabbages and Frocks and a Really Good Beach

My latest greatest adventure these days is furnishing the house, which we should move into mid-month. (I say should because moving does hinge on having beds for sleeping...)

Thursday Ava and I measured rooms and photographed spaces in our house, which is an old Victorian home (no, I don’t know when it was built) in St. Johns Wood. It’s on a lovely street lined with other brownstones; behind us is a private garden shared by us and our future neighbors.

Anyway, since we left all of our forks, hangers, pillows (not to mention couches, TVs and beds) in North Carolina (and no, we really haven’t missed anything, certainly not enough to go get it) it’s SHOPPING TIME!

Ava and Eva hung out (Eva being our Polish babysitter, Ivonne was from Bolivia – international childcare at its best) while I shopped at John Lewis, which I’m told is your all around good service/quality/price provider.

Actually I was helped by Tony from Perth (you might wonder if anyone I interact with on a day to day is from England), who was a great help in figuring out what would work best in our narrow, 4 level place. He’s a John Lewis furniture advisor and seemed to “get” what we’re looking for – furniture w/ clean lines, neutral, casual and comfortable.

Round 2 of shopping will take place later today: rugs and electronics.
I’ve also spent a good deal of time on Amazon, seeking out the deals on house wares. All fun and games but a bit time consuming.

Friday evening Joe and I had a date, this time to a pub called The Engineer in Primrose Hill, not far from us. It’s a neat little gastropub with the best fries I’ve had in I’m not sure how long – really thick and meaty, with just the right crisp salty but not too salty coating, meaty warm potato inside.

The lamb was superb, too; we finished the evening with desserts at a French café in St. Johns Wood.

And Saturday we all slept in, then wandered down to the Cabbages and Frocks market near Baker Street. It didn’t live up to its name, not a single cabbage to be found, and there were a few frocks but nothing to write home about.

However, we did enjoy some farm-fresh sausages a young guy was diligently grilling and serving with freshly grilled onions. The Lincolnshire ones are his most popular, so that’s what Joe and I had; Ava had a curled up beef sausage and Claire went with a big, meaty burger. All served on homemade rolls.

We also loaded up on hot chocolate at the café truck, which apparently pulls into the Cabbages and Frocks market (in a green “circle” near a big Methodist church off Marylebone Street) each week.

Oh, the other thing that rocked were the cupcakes – we hit the cupcake lady’s stand after a little sojourn down Marylebone High Street (not to be confused with the former Marylebone).

The area is packed with cool cafes, and since it was a very nice day, everyone in London was sitting outside, drinking beer, wine or coffee. (Those people who worry about waiting until 5:00 don’t live here, apparently.)

I stopped in a couple of great cheese, meat and bread shops. Claire’s the bread picker these days so we got our loaf and found Joe and Ava in a park. That, too, was cool; London’s green spaces and playgrounds are awesome. (Of course coming from India we’re probably easy to impress in the playground department.)

We ended our outing w/ a few errands and a Stella Artoise at home.

Sunday we made haste to hit Westminster Cathedral for Palm Sunday Mass. We slid in a couple minutes late, but then so did half the congregation. A lovely place for worship, it’s hard to take in the enormity of the place.

Some info…

The Cathedral Church of Westminster -- dedicated to the Most Precious Blood of Our Lord Jesus Christ -- was designed in the Early Christian Byzantine style by Victorian architect John Francis Bentley. The foundation stone was laid in 1895, the fabric of the building completed eight years later.

The interior, though incomplete, contains fine marble-work and mosaics. The fourteen Stations of the Cross by sculptor Eric Gill are world renowned.
The Cathedral site had a varied past – it was originally known as Bulinga Fen and formed part of the marsh around Westminster. Reclaimed by the Benedictine monks (the builders and owners of Westminster Abbey), the space was then used as a market and fairground. After reformation the land was used as a maze, a pleasure garden and as a ring for bull-baiting (I’ve heard of bull fighting, but bull baiting?).

In the 17th century part of the land was sold for the construction of a prison which was demolished and replaced by an enlarged prison complex in 1834. The site was acquired by the Catholic Church in 1884.

I must say Westminster’s 9:00 mass was the shortest Palm Sunday experience I’ve ever had. We were done before 10. (Apparently they had a bigger service with procession (?) later in the morning, so opted for the shorter reading and passed on a homily.)

Afterward we wandered through the cathedral, then went up to the bell tower to check out London from above. Nice, clear day so we saw plenty of buildings, old and new, and a plethora of cranes. We could see St. James Park, Buckingham Palace, Houses of Parliament, Canary Wharf, etc. And a great view of the main part of the cathedral below. (It has a name, I just can’t remember it.)

From there we set off walking to Buckingham Palace, where changing of the guard was not happening (it’s every other day) but a big crowd was gathered anyway. We joined them for a bit, watching the guards occasionally stride, then wandered on to find a pub for lunch. We passed guards on horses at the Household Cavalry Museum, which of course captivated the kids.

And for lunch we landed at a pub near Trafalgar Square, a sleepy breakfast/paper reading kind of place with decent bar food, where we perched at a tall table.

Yesterday (Monday) the kids and I, after a slow start, headed off to the National Portrait Gallery for one of their family events. The place offers workshops for lids over the age of 5 (ok I fudged a little on A’s age); today’s was an hour and a half program on mobile portraits. (The gist: creating from felt a representation of yourself and the things/people you enjoy and making a mobile with them.) First step was drawing the ideas, then the kids had at it with glue and scissors.

They seemed to thoroughly enjoy themselves, then we caught lunch at a spaghetti restaurant, shlepped up to the grocery store and collapsed at home.

Ava was talking about various countries yesterday, so I asked which was her favorite – Australia, the US, England, India, Singapore. Her very firm answer was: “A country with a BEACH.”

So there you have it. The secret to choosing the best place to live is not culture, infrastructure, standard of living, weather or lifestyle.

It's simply access to a good beach.