Traveling band

With our departure from the UK looming, we decided to spend the Easter holidays traveling this beautiful country. We packed up the car -- along with the spiffy cartop carrier we'd bought in anticipation of many family roadtrips (there have been a few) -- turned on the house alarm, got in the car, distributed snacks, realized we left the AGA running, turned off the house alarm, turned off the AGA, reset the house alarm, got back in the car, plugged in the iPhone loaded with Glee tunes and Roald Dahl books, and set off.

Being from Michigan, I grew up only really knowing driving vacations. A vacation was often driving to another Midwestern state to visit long-lost friends and far-flung relatives.  And for his part, Jeff has driven cross-country twice and ferried us relatively long distances during our years abroad. But this was a ROAD to the TRIP. We basically circled this whole damn island. About 35 hours in the car. With two children under 6. And lived to tell the tale.

First off was Kent, "England's Garden" in the southeast of the country. We tooted right over to Hever Castle, which Parisienne pal Virginia Mom had always told me was her kids' favorite sight in all of the UK, and one of the best.castles.ever.  Well, expectations pretty much matched reality, even in the chilly, breezy weather that would follow us pretty much everyplace.

 

Hever in the morning, Hever all through the night

Hever Castle was owned by the Bullen, or the much-fancier-sounding-to-these-shameless-social-climbers Boleyn family. In a strange new twist, Josie requested an audioguide - what would, it turned out, be only the first of many, because the girl apparently really likes facts. If she's gonna trot her carcass around three floors of damp, cold stone filled with smelly old furniture, fake plaster food and constantly shushing volunteer docents, she wants to know the facts, dammit. Can't say I blamed her.

Of course, I couldn't have an audioguide being that I was also chasing a two-year-old gunning to shimmy across said stone floors, climb on aforementioned smelly furniture, and throw fake plaster food. So I relied on her to tell me the facts. I got some interesting ones, like "King Henry asked this American, William Walderfaster, to fix up the house."  And "when Anne Boleyn didn't have any boy babies, King Henry made her eat chopped Hairy-Toff."  

Of course when we got to the top floor and scary-ass life-size models of all of Hank's wives, I had to explain which happened to each one, even giving her that handy mnemonic device "Divorced-Beheaded-Died, Divorced-Beheaded-Survived."  She was absolutely enthralled. We then collected Hugo and Jeff, walked through all the gardens, grabbed some hot tea and scones, and headed for Maidstone, our Kent Central Base.

Day 2 of our Kent tour included medieval Canterbury, and - of course - the famed Canterbury Cathedral, where Thomas Becket was murdered, mobilizing the millions of pilgrims that inspired Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. The Cathedral was amazing and included a shrine to Becket, caskets of both Edward, the Black Prince and Bishop William Courtenay, as well as Henry II and Joan of Navarre. The place is gold for an English history buff like me.

Charming medieval Canterbury

Canterbury Cathedral

Cousin Randy was a Bishop?!?

After a quick lunch it was Daddy's choice, which was the interactive Canterbury Tales exhibit, in which you walk through a series of realistically urine-smelling rooms and hear several of Chaucer's tales accompanied by more scary-ass life-size plastic people singing and acting them out. Neither child did, as Frommer's Family Guide to England predicted, try to flee screaming and have to be escorted out through the emergency exit, though they quite crankily demanded fudge afterward.

From Canterbury we went right to Dover, sadly skipping Sandwich, where we had planned to stop and, well, have a sandwich. Dover Castle belongs in the family guidebooks -- it was totally cool, having recently been refurbished with new MDF thrones, tables, beds, all of which kids could climb on. Since it was spring break there were loads of kids' activities. Unfortunately we had to skip the secret tunnels and wartime hospital constructed during the Second World War, which are apparently the best part, in order to catch our 4:00 boat to see the White Cliffs.

 

Dover Castle, significant in both Medieval and WW2 Times

 

Whoa - Americans seize the throne! 

The White Cliffs and slightly downstream Seven Sisters are beautiful and worth the cold, wet, misty trip to see them. Especially since both kids got to steer the boat! We then broke for dinner, which included -- of course -- incredible Dover Sole meuniere. Julia Child would have wept.

Beautiful White Cliffs as seen from our dinghy

 

Mutiny! 

England's garden well in hand, we set off Easter Sunday -- amid snow flurries, naturally (see SALZBURG, 2012) -- for Yorkshire, home to James Herriot, the Brontes, and Bram Stoker's inspiration for Dracula, Whitby Castle. We'd never been to Cambridge, so we stopped for lunch, walking a bit around Kings' College where Henry again yet oversees things.

 

We can't get away from this guy! 

We hopped back in the car and after an hour or so I looked at the map and said "it only takes us about 20 minutes out of our way to stop by Sherwood Forest."  The best part about a road trip! You can stop here, check out that, etc. etc. So a brief detour brought us to Robin Hood's hangout, along with the Main Oak where Robin shot that famous arrow to win the Sheriff of Nottingham's competition. Josie, who has long loved both the Errol Flynn and Walt Disney versions of the film, was in heaven.

The Famous "Main Oak" of Merry Men fame

Then, our arrival in Yorkshire. What beautiful countryside! Any extended UK trip should definitely include a few days here. You could spend a week and never run out of places to hike, cool castles to see, or amazing Sunday roasts to eat.

I ticked off a bucket list item with the charming, achingly sad Bronte Parsonage Museum, after which we hiked around a town called Grassington in the Yorkshire Dales. We stayed at an adorable B and B, which unfortunately had no guest lounge, so we spent three more nights falling asleep trying to outlast our endlessly perky children so we could finish our boxed DVD set of the Killing (we didn't).

 

Everyone died. The end.

 Dressing the Part

 

Hiking in the Dales 

 

Feeding the chickens

The next day was reserved for a fun-filled day in what we like to call Old York, where Josie's best friend E and his parents, our friends R and A, had moved about 19 months before. R, whom we can also call Montana Mom since that's where she grew up, had planned an action-packed itinerary filled with visits to the city's best museums, a ride on the Wheel of York (just like the London Eye) and dinner in an Italian restaurant installed in the city's beautiful old Assembly Rooms.

Assembled in front of one of Henry VIII's torched Abbeys

It's easy to see why York edged out Bath in last year's contest for Britain's most beautiful city. Josie and E reconnected immediately, running all over the place, putting on all the dress-up clothes, putting on puppet shows and filming each other on their mummies' iPhones.  Hugo tried to tolerate all that chumminess, largely failing miserably.

So... this Caesar guy. Should we take him out?

Beautiful York Minster

Wednesday it was up and -- after feeding B and B owner Lyndsey's chickens and eating the eggs we'd found the day before -- off to Edinburgh.  It was a long drive, so we decided to stop at Hadrian's Wall, the northernmost border of the Roman Empire, for a stroll and lunch.  There are several points of the Wall to visit, but we chose the old Roman fort, complete with baths, and apparently a very old-school potty.

A bit of Hadrian's Wall, on the other side of the river

 

Another burned-out Abbey in North-north-north England

We got into Edinburgh late afternoon, just enough time to check into yet another Premier Inn and take a quick stroll around the Old City. What a beautiful place!  Jeff and I had both been before, Jeff twice in fact, but I had forgotten what a grand, cosmopolitan, easygoing and fun city it is. I began my long and ultimately unsuccessful search for a cashmere airplane blanket and we ate in a hilarious Faux-Americana restaurant (if I never have a greasy burger OR hear "The Heart of Rock and Roll" again it will be too soon).

Our Full Edinburgh Day started at Edinburgh Castle. Totally amazing, though totally full of flights and flights of uneven stone steps so Josie ran out of gas and patience fairly quickly. We got to see the Crown Jewels of Scotland (no, not Andy Murray!!!) which she loved, while listening to our tour guide's absolutely delicious accent.

 

Edinburghers with Cheese

Illusions at the Camera Obscura museum

After Edinburgh Castle it was off to Holyrood House, the castle where Mary Queen of Scots famously lived, where her secretary and potential lover was stabbed 27 times, and lots of other facts I got to hear because I insisted on a damn audioguide too.

 

In the abbey (burned, shocker!) at Holyrood House Palace

Our last morning in Edinburgh was spent touring the Royal Yacht Britannia, which was a real solid by Jeff considering it would kill our chances of getting to the Beatles Experience in Liverpool before closing time. A reeeeeal solid because it was SO COOL!  It was decomissioned in 1997, not coincidentally, I don't think, right after Princess Diana died, and has sat in Edinburgh's harbor, untouched, decorated as the Queen and Prince Philip had it, ever since.

 

You can Ring Her Bellllll, the Queen's Bell

 
They each had their own bedrooms (single bed, each) and offices!  There's a music room, a formal dining room, and informal dining room, a fudge pantry, a den, all decorated in sublime 1960s kitsch. We all had audioguides, and traipsed through the world's most famous yacht mouths agape. And of course proceeded to drop one kajillion GBP in the gift store. How can you say no to fudge made on the Britannia? Or matching coffee mugs that say His Majesty and Her Majesty?

 

The "Honeymoon suite" and the one double bed onboard, 

requested specifically by Prince Charles for the Royal honeymoon

Then it was time to leave Scotland and head south again. Again relying on the map for inspiration, we stopped off at Lockerbie for lunch and a sad walk around the Garden of Remembrance.

Memorial Wall at Lockerbie's Garden of Remembrance

By dinner time we'd arrived at our final destination, the medieval town of Chester, recommended by Pittsburgh Mom and her husband. We had what everyone hoped would be our last fatty pub meal of the near future and hit the hay ready for The Final Day.

Quaint-as-all-getout Chester

Day 9. Sunshine! Beautiful!  So as much as we'd all been completely willing to backtrack to Liverpool to honor the Fab Four, it seemed sacrilegious NOT to spend the first beautiful day in months at Chester Zoo, Britain's biggest Zoo and the country's second most popular attraction (if the brochures are to be believed).

Good decision!  There were baby elephants!

Baby Giraffes!

Baby Gigglesnorts!

Then, sadly, it was time to head home to Bath.  I can't say it was a very relaxing trip;  we were never more than 4 feet away from both our children, we never got to drink wine and look at the stars or watch even five minutes of The Killing.

Still, we saw more of this beautiful country than most of our friends have, honestly, and shared experiences I know we'll all treasure (well, except Hugo but we'll show him pictures) for the rest of our lives!  It was the perfect way to start winding down our UK life. Hail, Britannia!!

 

Oompa-Loompah, doobatt-y doo...

I swear I made a resolution to update the blog more, now that I have some semblance of free time and my kids are doing such dang cute things.

This is why you just shouldn't make New Year's resolutions.

Even though I'm only working about 1/4 as much as I did last fall, things are still completely mental.  Afternoons are consumed with homework -- and keeping Hugo at bay while we do it. And on the weekend we're carting Josie to activities ranging from acting class to birthday parties, and soaking up as much of England as possible before what is looking more and more like a summer departure date (sob!).

Christmas seems like ages ago so why bother... we went to Michigan, had a lovely time seeing friends and Auntie Emily and Uncle Andy, blahbity blah. We returned just before New Year's, and ended up staying in for New Year's Eve, chucking the kids in bed early and cooking an amazing Jamie Oliver dinner... Venetian steak, potato-celery root puree, chocolate pots de creme for dessert. Eat your hearts out...

Mmmmmm.....

After dinner we had big plans for a Game Night with a brand-new trivia game Jeff had bought me for Chanukah called "Reminiscing - the Sixties to the Oughts"  Undeterred by the enormous box, we broke inside to find a cribbagey-looking game board and about six different-colored booklets. We quickly discovered that rather than drawing cards and reading off them, like Trivial Pursuit or pretty much any other trivia game in the Western World, you rolled the die, and read a question from that decade's booklet, a la "Go to the Head of the Class" from your childhood - choosing the question using an algorithm too complicated to explain here.

We'll forever reminisce about the moment the game finally ended....

Game-lovers that we are, we got past the unwieldy booklet system and algorithmic question-choosing and dove in. My first question: "The MP who lost his North Devon Seat in 1979 was _________"  Jeff gamely followed with "The 1985 Gramophone Record of the Year was a version of Elgin's Violin Concerto by ________"  Never quitters when it comes to games, we suffered through two hours of Norman Lamont, Paddy Ashdown, and John Stonehouse. Who? Really, you don't know who the Postmaster General of Britain was in 1979?

Unless anyone wants it, Reminiscing is waiting in the Donation Box to go to Oxfam toute de suite.

We then tried to raise the intellectual level of the evening with the Homeland finale. We were thoroughly enjoying it (or so we thought) until we were both awakened by Josie thundering down the stairs, yelling "Bombs are going off, or something!" (I knew I shouldn't have taken her to that exhibit on Bath in the Blitz). We had planned to watch the London fireworks on telly, but never having been here for New Year's before, we didn't know Bath had its own fireworks.

Since Josie was up, we let her snuggle in with us to watch London's amazing display -- and chuckle at how calm, quiet and dignified Londoners were compared to the mad wankers flailing about Times Square.  12:15 on the dot was a golf clap followed by "Happy New Year, g'nite everybody" and bzzzp! Done. Static. No J-Lo gyrating around the stage, no Jenny McCarthy grabbing randoms to make out with, no Ryan Seacrest pretending Dick Clark (may he rest in peace) didn't skip three numbers between 13 and 7 and say Happy New Year! four seconds too late. But on the flip side, we got our rest.

In other news.... Jeff did another weight loss contest with his best friend "Russ", Chubalooza 2. It got pretty serious. He even got Hugo into the fitness craze.

Josie and I trained to London together to see the Nutcracker; the show was amazing, even though she dropped all her Jelly Babies (which we went to 4 different stores to find, because it had to be Jelly Babies) on the floor within the first five minutes. Of course, I let her eat them anyway, because how dirty could floors in Central London theaters filled with zillions of norovirused children really be?

Hugo, now nearing birthday number two, is really coming into his own. His favorite things to do, after eating corners off all his books, are sneaking biccies out of his diaper bag and clubbing his sister with blunt objects.  We're spending a lot of time on the Naughty Step.

But when he's good, he's very, very good.

And finally, Jeff and I took advantage of our apparently delusional nanny's offer to stay with the kids overnight, taking our first solo trip since moving to Europe. It was just a train ride away, to the Meridien Piccadilly. but it was absolute heaven. We got upgraded to a suite (which never happens), took a guided tour of St. Paul's  (and actually saw the church and heard quite a bit about it!) We buzzed around the Tate Modern, shopped, and met my old friend Pat and his lady Julia for hip cocktails overlooking St. Paul's and then dinner in Soho.

At the Duck and Waffle Bar, posed provocatively in front of "The Gherkin"

The restaurant, Bob Bob Ricard, was completely amazing. Your taxi door is opened by smiling Frenchmen.  Your coat is magically removed and checked. And when you sit down in their lux, plushy booths, you look to your left and see this:

Hello, lover

The food was great - "Russian-French-English-inspired fare" and the service fab as well as the company. Unfortunately, someone pressed the champagne button a few too many times.

 Where you looking at, Drinky?

 Back from London, back to real life, unfortunately 'bye to school and hello to "Half Term" which is British for "we need a break from dealing with your manic kids for a week, so take them off our hands pronto." We colored every book, stuck every sticker, made bracelets, painted ceramic mermaids, pretty much cleared the crafting shelf.  Oh, and we went to the Roald Dahl museum, which was super cool.

 Doh! Not even as tall as an Oompa-Loompa!

I saw no fewer than eight people lick this as they walked by, I kid you not. 

The Brits can be such freaks sometimes!

Lots of plans for our remaining months as ex-pats: a girls' getaway for me and M to Lisbon, a drive-around vacation seeing England and Scotland, and hopefully another night away in London while aforementioned delusional nanny still in our employ! 'Til next time... when we'll do some more "Reminiscing!" (or not.)

“And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it.”
― Roald Dahl

Thankful

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

Crazily, the 4th anniversary of our being abroad passed quietly last weekend... and not one of us even noticed.

It might be because we've become so accustomed to our expat bubble that we don't even note these little milestones anymore.

Or it could be because we're already laser-focused on Le Retour scheduled (actually, not scheduled) for sometime in 2013.

Another anniversary, another Election, and now another Thanksgiving. 

Boy, I'm thankful today.

I'm thankful for my wonderful and hard-working husband, who took us on this wild ride through Old Europe.

I'm thankful for my two delicious children who surprise me every single day. I'm thankful that in the wake of Hurricane Sandy's devastation we still have a home in Nyack to return to. I'm thankful to have wonderful friends to celebrate with tonight.




I'm thankful to have two zany siblings and two wonderful parents - and a whole mishbucah of great in-laws. I'm thankful to have Saint Claire, who makes my life work from day to day. 

And sorry to drop a political note in here, but I'm thankful that after the hours slaving over my computer and away from my children, that Barack Obama is still president and that he will be joined by the highest number of women to ever serve in the United States Congress. Boo-yah!

I'll touch on each of these briefly in this quick update.

Crazy Josie turned five in early October, flanked by both sets of adoring grandparents and an increasingly bothersome younger sibling. We celebrated with a little Hello Kitty Dance Party at home and a trip to London with both grannies to see Matilda the Musical. I think she was appropriately dazzled by all.

 

Hello Kitty birthday!

Make a wish!

Train to London with Hannah to see Matilda!

Jeff and I also threw a joint 40th birthday with heaps of great friends old and new -- my dear friend Pat, with whom I've been friends for nearly (urp) 20 years, trekked over from London, and all our Bathian friends gathered as well. We sipped cocktails made by our "mixologist", swayed to coffeehouse jams from our acoustic guitarist, and generally threw down at Jika Jika, the cafe where everybody knows our names.

Me and my Bath girls, and great old friend Patrick 

Granny Nom ended up staying for a couple extra weeks, and she and I took a girls' road trip to London to eat Fancy French Food and hit the Portobello Road Antiques Market, which was apparently a major Bucket List item for her. It was my first night away from Hugo, and everyone survived! It was terrific.

 

 Mostly liquid lunch at my fave Notting Hill cafe, Bumpkin

We spent a day at beautiful Westonbirt, seeing the fall foliage, enjoying a picnic and getting as wet and muddy as we possibly could (sigh).

We also took a great day trip to Stratford-upon-Avon, so that the former English teacher could see Shakespeare's birthplace. I highly recommend a visit - the "Visitor's Center" has been recently renovated with an audio-visual presentation, clips from all the recent Shakespeare films, etc.

We also visited Shakespeare's house AND his daughter's farm. From petting goats to watching falconry to toothbrushing archeological remains, Josie loved the whole day -- and we've spent the weeks since reading, play by play, an entire children's Shakespeare collection.

Not that much happened otherwise, or at least not that I can remember, because I was glued to my computer for the six weeks prior to Election Day. I'm really lucky Granny Nom stuck around, because she was a real trooper with the kids. While I wasn't looking she even taught Josie how to read!

After Nom left, we tried to celebrate the soggiest Halloween in history. Wonder Woman suited up in mackintosh and umbrella and we waded up and down the street to the approximately four houses open for business. I tossed in enough of our own candy that she appeared satisfied with her haul, so we returned to our (dry) home for a Thriller/Ghosbusters dance party with the new social-smiling Nemo, er -- Hugo.

Happy Halloween, Wonder Woman and Nemo!

Election Day this year was a surreal one. After staying up all night watching the returns on the couch, I decided to go to London on November 7th to see my Parisian friend C and her gorgeous custom bikes at the Country Living Christmas Fair.

I suffered through a train ride full of election-mad Brits and ended up scrambling around Northeast London, bleary-eyed, barely knowing my own name, for a WiFi connection to write post-election emails! Found myself in a smelly pub, banging away at my laptop and wondering when my life got so wonderfully, stressfully bizarre.

 But I did have time to spend a small fortune

on this dress for Josie!

Of course, we're all thinking this year of the thousands who remain without homes, possessions, belongings, and sadly some without loved ones in the wake of last month's devastating hurricane. I think we were all surprised by our chief reaction to the storm which was: homesickness.  We were acutely missing friends and family, missing our house, wanting to pitch in and help in some way. I have a feeling that those opportunities will exist for some time.

Today I'm just thankful for everything I have, for all the wonderful places and events we've been lucky to experience, for the friends I've made and even more for the ones I've kept.  As I burn my second pecan pie in my authentically British ^%$#*&!@ AGA oven, I'm taking a moment to appreciate all that's good in my life. And there's a dang lot.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. Next year in Nyack!