Short version: Jim and I nearly missed our flight, which itself was uneventful. Got home safe.
The full story for my travel journal follows. Read on at your own risk.
Jim's alarm didn't go off. He awoke at 9:15. Breakfast closed at 9:30. Check-out time was 10. I was still full of the fish and chips from last night. Much as I live for bargains, it felt fine to pass on our last "traditional English breakfast." Our hotel was near Hyde Park, in Sussex Gardens, which has dozens of small hotels. We visited a few for price comparisions. Stylotel offers a double at 72 pounds during the slow season, if booked by phone. Days Inn, which has name recognition among Americans, was dearer: 105 pounds. Some places offer either an English breakfast or a "Continental breakfast." I imagine in some hotels that means real French croissants and pastries rather than the bagels and donuts of American motels, but probably not for 79 pounds a night. Speaking of donuts, Krispy Kremes are in evidence in grocery stores.
We took the double-decker bus #36 to the end of the route at Queen's Park, a 20 minute ride but just two tube stops from Paddington Station, in zone 2 of 6. It's a big city. We wanted to ride the Jubilee line to Victoria Station, and the Metropolitan line, but they were both closed for weekend repair. So our total for the week was five tube lines: Bakerloo, Central, Circle, District, and Picadilly. We bought sandwiches for later and returned to the hotel for our bags. From the lobby TV we learned that all transatlantic flights out of Heathrow were delayed. An air traffic control computer in Scotland had shut down. Jim decided to check-in online, which was key to our subsequent success.
We had both forgotten that the Circle line leg of the route to Heathrow takes about a half hour. (The Picadilly leg of the trip takes 50 minutes.) We got to the check-in queue around 1:30 p.m. for the 2:50 flight. All international flights close at "minus sixty." A cheery agent assured us we were fine, and that a closure agent would call us out of line if need be. We watched our line crawl along and watched for the closure agent, who never came by. When we got to the counter, the flight was closed. The closure agent was called over, and she assured us that there was no chance of getting onto the Boston flight, the only one that day. She obviously doubted that we had been in line and maintained that she had called for Boston passengers. She was not pleased when Jim said, "You didn't do your job!" She also doubted that we had talked to another agent, who had disappeared from our view. She offered to book us on the next day's flight. Jim insisted that Virgin Atlantic pay for a hotel and asked to speak to her supervisor. Just about then the cheery agent walked by, remembered us, and corroborated our story. Because Jim had checked in online, the supervisor found us in the computer and checked our bags 20 minutes after the flight was "closed." At this point we received VIP treatment. A new agent was asked to escort us to the gate. She took us down the first class corridor to security (no line, no waiting), actually taking her shoes off to go through security with us, and delivered us right to the queue at Gate 33. Because Gate 33 has no skyway, all the passengers were being "coached" (bussed) to the 747 on the tarmac, causing substantial delay. We arrived at the gate before some of the passengers who checked in before us, since they had to come through the economy security point.
Kudos to Jim! He methodically worked the problem and insisted on fair treatment. I was ready to go look for a hotel the first time the closure agent said the flight was closed.
Jim's seat was 50B, mine 65F, but we were just happy to be on board. I read some of Sam's pick for our family book group: His Excellency (George Washington) by Joseph Ellis. They fed us lunch and served beverages twice and even handed out ice cream bars. We breezed through customs at Logan Airport and Peter Jones kindly picked us up at the curb, or should I say kerb?
Monday, October 5, 2009
Friday, October 2, 2009
London Day Seven
We travelled back in time today, attending "As You Like It" at the Globe Theatre on the south bank of the Thames. We were in the back of the highest balcony, but the view was fine and the voices carried well. Every player was excellent. Katharine Hepburn made her comeback as Rosalind on the New York stage. It would be a great part for her. Jaques, the melancholy courtier, was played today by Tim McMullan, who played Prince Charles' secretary in The Queen. In the middle of the play we looked down to see him in front of us, delivering a line while leaning over our balcony. As he left he said, of his line: "It was a joke 400 years ago."
After the play we walked along the Jubilee Walkway along the south bank of the Thames. We had a hot falafel wrap and an almond croissant at PRET A MANGE, a sandwich shoppe franchise which specializes in very fresh sandwiches and lunch food. Which brings me to fast food in England. We see an occasional Burger King and MacDonalds, but the real fast food in Britain is sandwiches. Every little corner store has refrigerated shelves full of fresh sandwiches. I hesistated to try them the first time we saw them, but the cucumbers were crisp and the bread whole grain. Very tasty and healthier than Mickey D's.
We stopped in at St Martin-in-the-Fields Church, on Trafalgar Square. James Gibbs designed it in 1721, a rectangular building with a large triangular pediment supported by columns in front and a large steeple. It has been copied many times in New England churches. I just love the name. Right across the street is the National Gallery of Art. With museums being free here, though we always gave a donation, I experimented with the idea of going to the Gallery to look at just a few things. The NG has two Vemeers and several Rembrandt, who has been a favorite of mine since high school. While in the Dutch Masters wing we heard music playing and happened in on a concert of flute, piano and 'cello in a large gallery room. After Rembrandt we wandered around the Impressionists and Jim fell in love with John Constable's work. He bought a print which will be installed in Jim's office. When the Gallery closed we walked around Trafalgar Square and had fish and chips and a jacket before taking the double-decker #15 bus one last time.
After the play we walked along the Jubilee Walkway along the south bank of the Thames. We had a hot falafel wrap and an almond croissant at PRET A MANGE, a sandwich shoppe franchise which specializes in very fresh sandwiches and lunch food. Which brings me to fast food in England. We see an occasional Burger King and MacDonalds, but the real fast food in Britain is sandwiches. Every little corner store has refrigerated shelves full of fresh sandwiches. I hesistated to try them the first time we saw them, but the cucumbers were crisp and the bread whole grain. Very tasty and healthier than Mickey D's.
We stopped in at St Martin-in-the-Fields Church, on Trafalgar Square. James Gibbs designed it in 1721, a rectangular building with a large triangular pediment supported by columns in front and a large steeple. It has been copied many times in New England churches. I just love the name. Right across the street is the National Gallery of Art. With museums being free here, though we always gave a donation, I experimented with the idea of going to the Gallery to look at just a few things. The NG has two Vemeers and several Rembrandt, who has been a favorite of mine since high school. While in the Dutch Masters wing we heard music playing and happened in on a concert of flute, piano and 'cello in a large gallery room. After Rembrandt we wandered around the Impressionists and Jim fell in love with John Constable's work. He bought a print which will be installed in Jim's office. When the Gallery closed we walked around Trafalgar Square and had fish and chips and a jacket before taking the double-decker #15 bus one last time.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
London Day Six
BTW, at breakfast they call them baked beans, but I can't see anything baked about them.
Errata: I left off a Roman numeral I. The Tower exhibit was about Henry VIII's armour.
Today we toured the "City of London," also known as the "Square Mile." Our guide, who is Cornish, was informative and witty, as they all have been. He clued us in early on that the correct answers are always: 1666 (the year), The Great Fire of London (the event), and Christopher Wren (the architect). In 1666 the Great Fire of London destroyed much of the city. This gave Christopher Wren an incredible opportunity to remake London in stone.
The original guilds in London were known as Livery Companies. They were given an order of precedence in 1515. Mercers (merchants) were first, followed by Grocers, Drapers (wool and cloth merchants), Fishmongers, and Goldsmiths. Taylors (tailors) and Skinners (fur traders) have always disputed their precedence, so each Easter they alternate positions. However, this probably is not where the phrase "at sixes and sevens" originates. We sat in a lovely churchyard garden which the Gardener Livery keeps up.
Speaking of fish mongers, Queen Elizabeth I decreed that her people must eat fish three times a week. This was to keep the ships in good working order and in the ready if war should break out.
On the tour we walked down Leadenhall Market, which was the set for Diagon Alley in the first Harry Potter movie. We also saw the Lloyd's of London building, which is atrocious. It reminds me of a distressed sea cucumber, which disembowels itself upon upset. Lloyd's innards are all on the outside fabric of the building.
Do you know what defines a Cockney? Anyone who is born within the sound of the bells of St. Mary le Bow Church. We heard the bells and lunched in the cafe in its crypt. The sausage sandwich with onion marmalade was wonderful and the cheddar sandwich with chutney just as good. Said crypt was built in the time of the Norman Conquest, late 11th century, and its subterranean arches give the church the name "le Bow." Before lunch, Jim got a much needed shoe shine from a fascinating young man. He is originally from Lille, France, went to University, and then moved to London about nine years ago.
We strolled Covent Gardens and heard a young opera singer in a courtyard below street level. On a double decker #15 bus, sitting above, of course, we rode past Picadilly Circus and onto Oxford St, past the Marble Arch and on to Sussex Garden, near Paddington Station, where our hotel is. I love living near Paddington Station. It always makes me think of my oldest brother, Steve, reading aloud to his young sons about the bear from darkest Peru.
In the evening we went to the Southbank Centre and heard a free talk and performance of two short works of Finnish composer Magnus Lindberg, followed by a concert of the Philharmonia Orchestra performing the UK premiere of Lindberg's Graffiti as well as Janacek's Synfonietta and Stravinsky's The Firebird. Janacek has been a favorite of ours since my orchestra performed it in 1992. This evening we were in the second row, right in front of the celli and basses. We had a great view of the conductor, Esa-Pekka Salonen (also Finnish), and the concertmaster, James Clark. We could see and hear and feel the energy and heart that each performer put into the concert. It was thrilling. During The Firebird, the lights flickered occasionally and actually went out while the orchestra was playing, which added to the effect of the music.
After the concert we went to Waterloo Station and found a Pasty Shoppe advertising hand-made Cornish pasties. I had a traditional beef and vegetable pasty and Jim had a cheese and mushroom croissant from the Delice de France booth. They were both very tasty. Taking the Bakerloo line, a delay was announced while we waited on the train in Charing Cross station. So, we left the tube and walked around Trafalgar Square, then took the 15 bus again, this time getting the coveted, at least by me, seats directly above the driver. Being up so high while the bus careens down the narrow streets of London, I can see the inspiration for the night bus in Harry Potter. It feels like the bus must shrink to fit in the space between cars.
Errata: I left off a Roman numeral I. The Tower exhibit was about Henry VIII's armour.
Today we toured the "City of London," also known as the "Square Mile." Our guide, who is Cornish, was informative and witty, as they all have been. He clued us in early on that the correct answers are always: 1666 (the year), The Great Fire of London (the event), and Christopher Wren (the architect). In 1666 the Great Fire of London destroyed much of the city. This gave Christopher Wren an incredible opportunity to remake London in stone.
The original guilds in London were known as Livery Companies. They were given an order of precedence in 1515. Mercers (merchants) were first, followed by Grocers, Drapers (wool and cloth merchants), Fishmongers, and Goldsmiths. Taylors (tailors) and Skinners (fur traders) have always disputed their precedence, so each Easter they alternate positions. However, this probably is not where the phrase "at sixes and sevens" originates. We sat in a lovely churchyard garden which the Gardener Livery keeps up.
Speaking of fish mongers, Queen Elizabeth I decreed that her people must eat fish three times a week. This was to keep the ships in good working order and in the ready if war should break out.
On the tour we walked down Leadenhall Market, which was the set for Diagon Alley in the first Harry Potter movie. We also saw the Lloyd's of London building, which is atrocious. It reminds me of a distressed sea cucumber, which disembowels itself upon upset. Lloyd's innards are all on the outside fabric of the building.
Do you know what defines a Cockney? Anyone who is born within the sound of the bells of St. Mary le Bow Church. We heard the bells and lunched in the cafe in its crypt. The sausage sandwich with onion marmalade was wonderful and the cheddar sandwich with chutney just as good. Said crypt was built in the time of the Norman Conquest, late 11th century, and its subterranean arches give the church the name "le Bow." Before lunch, Jim got a much needed shoe shine from a fascinating young man. He is originally from Lille, France, went to University, and then moved to London about nine years ago.
We strolled Covent Gardens and heard a young opera singer in a courtyard below street level. On a double decker #15 bus, sitting above, of course, we rode past Picadilly Circus and onto Oxford St, past the Marble Arch and on to Sussex Garden, near Paddington Station, where our hotel is. I love living near Paddington Station. It always makes me think of my oldest brother, Steve, reading aloud to his young sons about the bear from darkest Peru.
In the evening we went to the Southbank Centre and heard a free talk and performance of two short works of Finnish composer Magnus Lindberg, followed by a concert of the Philharmonia Orchestra performing the UK premiere of Lindberg's Graffiti as well as Janacek's Synfonietta and Stravinsky's The Firebird. Janacek has been a favorite of ours since my orchestra performed it in 1992. This evening we were in the second row, right in front of the celli and basses. We had a great view of the conductor, Esa-Pekka Salonen (also Finnish), and the concertmaster, James Clark. We could see and hear and feel the energy and heart that each performer put into the concert. It was thrilling. During The Firebird, the lights flickered occasionally and actually went out while the orchestra was playing, which added to the effect of the music.
After the concert we went to Waterloo Station and found a Pasty Shoppe advertising hand-made Cornish pasties. I had a traditional beef and vegetable pasty and Jim had a cheese and mushroom croissant from the Delice de France booth. They were both very tasty. Taking the Bakerloo line, a delay was announced while we waited on the train in Charing Cross station. So, we left the tube and walked around Trafalgar Square, then took the 15 bus again, this time getting the coveted, at least by me, seats directly above the driver. Being up so high while the bus careens down the narrow streets of London, I can see the inspiration for the night bus in Harry Potter. It feels like the bus must shrink to fit in the space between cars.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
London Day Five
Our traditional English breakfast fortified us for another day of touring. We stopped at Tower Hill, site of innumerable public beheadings, then into the Tower of London for an excellent tour. The guide gave a very entertaining description of all the defenses a hypothetical invader would have to get through to successfully attack the tower. Exceedingly redundant and absolutely effective. Getting out was occasionally easier. The first captive climbed down a rope that had been smuggled in a cask of wine. Another prisoner tied bedsheets together, but they tore, he fell headlong and that was the end of him.
I love walking along the paths and passing Traitors Gate where Queen Elizabeth I entered the Tower. The White Tower, which William the Conqueror built, has an exhibit cleverly named: Henry VIII, Dressed to Kill. It featured several sets of armor custom made for Henry. He was a great athlete. Did you know Henry played "real tennis?" It's a game that looks a lot like squash, with the players facing each other as in modern tennis, but playing the ball off the walls, like squash. They say Henry was playing it at Hampton Court Palace when Anne Boleyn was executed.
Speaking of William "the Conqueror"(1066 and all that): have you had the impression he was a real outsider, kind of like Attila the Hun? Turns out he was King Edward the Confessor's cousin and William claimed Edward offered him the throne. Harold was Edward's brother-in-law and either Edward made two conflicting promises, William exaggerated his claim, or Harold just didn't get the memo. Harold's death at the Battle of Hastings gave William the kingdom and he immediately built the original Tower of London. We call it the White Tower because they used to whitewash it to cover the muck that ran down it from the privies.
Our guide slyly referred to 2012, the year of the London Olympics, several times when talking about possible improvements to the city. For example, the White Tower may be whitewashed again, say, in 2012.
We went to King's Cross station to find a Spanish restaurant, Camino, but arrived 2 minutes after table service ended, so we left in pursuit of a late afternoon meal. We took a double decker bus along Euston Road, watching for likely candidates. Jim spotted the Allsop pub, so we gave it a try. Jim had a wonderful lamb curry and I tried the Suffolk sausage and mash (potatoes) in a Yorkshire pudding. Yorkshire pudding is usually a small, baked, round affair, but this was a square the size of a dinner plate as delicious as the smaller ones. Happily the sausage bore no relation to the breakfast offerings at this hotel, i.e. it was tasty with a good texture. We shared a goat cheese salad, which shows that the pub is firmly in the twenty-first century.
We went into Marylebone Station and discovered another West Cornwall Pasty kiosk, but of course we were full of pub fare. (Note to self: remember Marylebone Station next time you're hungry.) I asked a sweet old gentleman how to say the name of the station. He said you could say it either "mary-le-bone" or "marlee-bone." Not too definitive.
This evening we attended a Viennese concert put on by the Young Musicians Symphony Orchestra at St. John Smith's Square near Westminister Abbey. We felt like we were in Vienna. Listening to the New Year's Day radio broadcast from Vienna is a tradition for us. There was a lovely young soprano, and several waltzes by several Strausses, including Roses from the South and the Emperor Waltz. The encores included the Thunder and Lightning Polka, (someone handed the conductor an umbrella) and ended with the the Radetzky March - a real Viennese crowd pleaser, where the conductor directed us to clap in time to the march.
Afterwards we walked beside Parliment as Big Ben sounded the tenth hour. The Lady Chapel of the Abbey looked impossibly delicate in the lighting. We walked half-way across the Westminster Bridge and again recreated the pixie dust scene from Hook, this time more authetically, since the streetlamps were lit.
I love walking along the paths and passing Traitors Gate where Queen Elizabeth I entered the Tower. The White Tower, which William the Conqueror built, has an exhibit cleverly named: Henry VIII, Dressed to Kill. It featured several sets of armor custom made for Henry. He was a great athlete. Did you know Henry played "real tennis?" It's a game that looks a lot like squash, with the players facing each other as in modern tennis, but playing the ball off the walls, like squash. They say Henry was playing it at Hampton Court Palace when Anne Boleyn was executed.
Speaking of William "the Conqueror"(1066 and all that): have you had the impression he was a real outsider, kind of like Attila the Hun? Turns out he was King Edward the Confessor's cousin and William claimed Edward offered him the throne. Harold was Edward's brother-in-law and either Edward made two conflicting promises, William exaggerated his claim, or Harold just didn't get the memo. Harold's death at the Battle of Hastings gave William the kingdom and he immediately built the original Tower of London. We call it the White Tower because they used to whitewash it to cover the muck that ran down it from the privies.
Our guide slyly referred to 2012, the year of the London Olympics, several times when talking about possible improvements to the city. For example, the White Tower may be whitewashed again, say, in 2012.
We went to King's Cross station to find a Spanish restaurant, Camino, but arrived 2 minutes after table service ended, so we left in pursuit of a late afternoon meal. We took a double decker bus along Euston Road, watching for likely candidates. Jim spotted the Allsop pub, so we gave it a try. Jim had a wonderful lamb curry and I tried the Suffolk sausage and mash (potatoes) in a Yorkshire pudding. Yorkshire pudding is usually a small, baked, round affair, but this was a square the size of a dinner plate as delicious as the smaller ones. Happily the sausage bore no relation to the breakfast offerings at this hotel, i.e. it was tasty with a good texture. We shared a goat cheese salad, which shows that the pub is firmly in the twenty-first century.
We went into Marylebone Station and discovered another West Cornwall Pasty kiosk, but of course we were full of pub fare. (Note to self: remember Marylebone Station next time you're hungry.) I asked a sweet old gentleman how to say the name of the station. He said you could say it either "mary-le-bone" or "marlee-bone." Not too definitive.
This evening we attended a Viennese concert put on by the Young Musicians Symphony Orchestra at St. John Smith's Square near Westminister Abbey. We felt like we were in Vienna. Listening to the New Year's Day radio broadcast from Vienna is a tradition for us. There was a lovely young soprano, and several waltzes by several Strausses, including Roses from the South and the Emperor Waltz. The encores included the Thunder and Lightning Polka, (someone handed the conductor an umbrella) and ended with the the Radetzky March - a real Viennese crowd pleaser, where the conductor directed us to clap in time to the march.
Afterwards we walked beside Parliment as Big Ben sounded the tenth hour. The Lady Chapel of the Abbey looked impossibly delicate in the lighting. We walked half-way across the Westminster Bridge and again recreated the pixie dust scene from Hook, this time more authetically, since the streetlamps were lit.
London Day Four
On the subject of breakfast, I forgot to mention the beans in ketchup sauce we've had every morning. I've seen them on posters of "traditional English breakfast." Makes me think of The Treasure of the Sierra Madres: "Better eat those beans, boys!" I'll take Boston Baked Beans anyday.
Tuesday morning we took the tube to Waterloo Station. Another funny story from our guide: Churchill was planning his funeral and wanted the procession to go through the Waterloo Station. His advisors carefully pointed out that that wasn't the natural route to take. Yes, maintained Churchill, but De Gaulle would attend the funeral, and he just want to remind him once more of that moment in history.
We met our guide, Richard, at the Waterloo Station. The LED timetable boards are a symphony of efficiency. It would be very inefficient for me to describe, but it was a pleasure (we're easily amused) to watch a train route with all its stops flash up on the board at the far right and march slowly down to the left, receiving a platform assignment along the way.
We took the southwest train to Salisbury, a charming city on a small river. We strolled along the river to the cathedral, which was built consecrated in 1258, just 38 years after it was started. The 404 ft spire, which was added later, is the tallest in the United Kingdom. It is really beautiful. The cathedral has the world's oldest working clock and one of the four original copies of the Magna Carta. Quiz: where have you heard about another copy? Bing! Right here on this blog. So, we had to go look at the Salisbury copy. The docent was tickled, in an understated British way, when I said we'd seen the British Library copy. She talked with us quite a while. (There wasn't a crowd.) She had a photocopy of the British Library copy and pointed out that the Salisbury copy was done in a much more skilled hand. A tourist had once argued with her that it much be computer generated, it's so even. The ink used has iron in it, which actually etches into the parchment over time (written in 1215 AD). She also mentioned that the Licoln Cathedral had let its copy go on tour and hadn't been very careful about it (tut-tut) - a little cathedral rivalry going on there.
We lunched at the cathedral cafe where we looked up at a wonderful view of the spire.
We then took a "private motorcoach" on country lanes to Stonehenge. Passed by Sting's country house (whoever he is). Madonna had a honeymoon there. (I have heard of her.)
I'd read some disappointing reviews on the web about touring Stonehenge, but I was not disappointed. It is a marvel to see and thrilling to walk around. Maybe all of you knew this, but the stones are at least 50% longer than what you see above ground. Our guide has memories of family picnics at the stones. There's a flat stone that made a great picnic table. One doesn't get that close nowadays, but there are sample rocks near the gift shop that you can touch.
On the way back, we saw the hill that was the original site of the fort, the "Sarum." Market day was just ending when we arrived back in Salisbury, but a West Cornwall Pasties shop caught my eye, so we bought a chocolate pasty (I don't think that's a traditional pairing) to eat right away and a lamb and a bacon & cheese for supper at the hotel. They were delicious, and would have been even better hot, but we weren't hungry when we bought them. I had a recipe for Cornish pasties when we were first married, which I remember fondly. These were in a different league. They were light and flaky - a lot like an excellent croissant. (ed. note: on Wednesday we saw another West Cornwall Pasties kiosk at Marylebone Station, but we weren't hungry, again. But now we know we don't have to go all the way to Salisbury for fresh ones.)
Later in the evening, we walked from our hotel, which is just north of Hyde Park, to Park Crescent. My Little Black Book of London (The Quintessential Guide to the Royal Capital) states: "Outside Regent's Park Tube stop is one of the most breathtaking spots of London: Park Crescent--a semicircle of colonnades designed by John Nash." I'm glad we saw it, but it isn't nearly as breathtaking as Westminster Abbey, or Parliment, or the Tower of London. The walk took us through a neighborhood of shops with Arabic signage. London is so cosmopolitan. Much as I love Boston, it really is provincial. We are constantly overhearing and not understanding conversations in other languages here. It's invigorating.
Tuesday morning we took the tube to Waterloo Station. Another funny story from our guide: Churchill was planning his funeral and wanted the procession to go through the Waterloo Station. His advisors carefully pointed out that that wasn't the natural route to take. Yes, maintained Churchill, but De Gaulle would attend the funeral, and he just want to remind him once more of that moment in history.
We met our guide, Richard, at the Waterloo Station. The LED timetable boards are a symphony of efficiency. It would be very inefficient for me to describe, but it was a pleasure (we're easily amused) to watch a train route with all its stops flash up on the board at the far right and march slowly down to the left, receiving a platform assignment along the way.
We took the southwest train to Salisbury, a charming city on a small river. We strolled along the river to the cathedral, which was built consecrated in 1258, just 38 years after it was started. The 404 ft spire, which was added later, is the tallest in the United Kingdom. It is really beautiful. The cathedral has the world's oldest working clock and one of the four original copies of the Magna Carta. Quiz: where have you heard about another copy? Bing! Right here on this blog. So, we had to go look at the Salisbury copy. The docent was tickled, in an understated British way, when I said we'd seen the British Library copy. She talked with us quite a while. (There wasn't a crowd.) She had a photocopy of the British Library copy and pointed out that the Salisbury copy was done in a much more skilled hand. A tourist had once argued with her that it much be computer generated, it's so even. The ink used has iron in it, which actually etches into the parchment over time (written in 1215 AD). She also mentioned that the Licoln Cathedral had let its copy go on tour and hadn't been very careful about it (tut-tut) - a little cathedral rivalry going on there.
We lunched at the cathedral cafe where we looked up at a wonderful view of the spire.
We then took a "private motorcoach" on country lanes to Stonehenge. Passed by Sting's country house (whoever he is). Madonna had a honeymoon there. (I have heard of her.)
I'd read some disappointing reviews on the web about touring Stonehenge, but I was not disappointed. It is a marvel to see and thrilling to walk around. Maybe all of you knew this, but the stones are at least 50% longer than what you see above ground. Our guide has memories of family picnics at the stones. There's a flat stone that made a great picnic table. One doesn't get that close nowadays, but there are sample rocks near the gift shop that you can touch.
On the way back, we saw the hill that was the original site of the fort, the "Sarum." Market day was just ending when we arrived back in Salisbury, but a West Cornwall Pasties shop caught my eye, so we bought a chocolate pasty (I don't think that's a traditional pairing) to eat right away and a lamb and a bacon & cheese for supper at the hotel. They were delicious, and would have been even better hot, but we weren't hungry when we bought them. I had a recipe for Cornish pasties when we were first married, which I remember fondly. These were in a different league. They were light and flaky - a lot like an excellent croissant. (ed. note: on Wednesday we saw another West Cornwall Pasties kiosk at Marylebone Station, but we weren't hungry, again. But now we know we don't have to go all the way to Salisbury for fresh ones.)
Later in the evening, we walked from our hotel, which is just north of Hyde Park, to Park Crescent. My Little Black Book of London (The Quintessential Guide to the Royal Capital) states: "Outside Regent's Park Tube stop is one of the most breathtaking spots of London: Park Crescent--a semicircle of colonnades designed by John Nash." I'm glad we saw it, but it isn't nearly as breathtaking as Westminster Abbey, or Parliment, or the Tower of London. The walk took us through a neighborhood of shops with Arabic signage. London is so cosmopolitan. Much as I love Boston, it really is provincial. We are constantly overhearing and not understanding conversations in other languages here. It's invigorating.
Monday, September 28, 2009
London Day Three
I awoke to Jim's voice, "Mary, breakfast is over in 15 minutes!" We hadn't set an alarm and slept till 9:15 a.m. Breakfast was the same as yesterday: buffet style scramble eggs, sausage, corn flakes (Jim partook), canned fruit cocktail and juices. It strikes us as a "typical" American breakfast from 40 years ago. Except the sausage is different than anything I've eaten, and not in a particularly good way: fluffy, almost, a foam of fat, says Jim. But, breakfast comes with the room and starts our day off with warm tummies. We think we'll skip the sausage tomorrow.
We took a "londonwalks.com" tour of Westminster Abbey. Gillian, the tour guide was great: informative and witty. The Abbey is beautiful. The fan vaulting on the ceiling of the Lady's Chapel is incredible: lacey ribs that look like ladies' ball gowns swirling. Jim bought me a small book, "The Royal Line of Succession." It takes me back to my youth and love of all things historical and royal.
We walked across Westminster Bridge, right next to the Houses of Parliment, complete with a bagpiper. We recreated the scene from Hook when Toodles flies to Neverland at the end of the movie. Well, without the pixie dust.
Then we caught the 148 bus, one of the new double-deckers, and sat up above, of course. I watched for the premium front seats to free up, but they did only one at a time, so we continued to sit together and rode past Victoria Station and the back of Buckingham Palace Gardens, which was all stone wall and barbed wire and trees from the Grosvenor Place side. We skirted the north side of Hyde Park, got off at Notting Hill Gate, and found a Tesco grocery store. It was very centering for me to be in a real grocery store - it puts me in my element. We bought Cornish scones and rhubarb-vanilla yogurt. There were no shopping carriages, only plastic baskets, no parking lot, and no Russian speaking cashiers. (Hi, Sam!) After a few days in a hotel area, it was nice to find a place that sells bread and groceries.
Back outside on the streets, I was puzzling with my map when a friendly man asked if we needed help. He had a book in his hand about a musician's trip through the south and south west (Memphis, Amarillo, Phoenix, etc.) He directed us to Portobello Road. The market is only on Friday and Saturday, but we walked down the road with the haunting tune from "Bedknobs and Broomsticks," in our heads. In 2001 we were there on a market day and bought some British edition Harry Potter books. The facades were brightly colored stucco: pink and blue and yellow. They reminded me of St. Croix colors.
Looking for a place to sit down and eat our scones, I steered us to Pembridge Square, which had a wrought iron fence all around. I asked a passer-by how to get in. It's a private garden, it turns out. She offered to unlock the gate for us, "but how would you get out?" So, we chatted with her. She's Greek and came to Oxford about 25 years ago. She loves Notting Hill, but thinks it has gone to tourists too much and lost some of its charm.
The yogurt was mildly rhubarb, the scones were good, but, oh! for a microwave in our room! I don't know where we would fit it...
We took a "londonwalks.com" tour of Westminster Abbey. Gillian, the tour guide was great: informative and witty. The Abbey is beautiful. The fan vaulting on the ceiling of the Lady's Chapel is incredible: lacey ribs that look like ladies' ball gowns swirling. Jim bought me a small book, "The Royal Line of Succession." It takes me back to my youth and love of all things historical and royal.
We walked across Westminster Bridge, right next to the Houses of Parliment, complete with a bagpiper. We recreated the scene from Hook when Toodles flies to Neverland at the end of the movie. Well, without the pixie dust.
Then we caught the 148 bus, one of the new double-deckers, and sat up above, of course. I watched for the premium front seats to free up, but they did only one at a time, so we continued to sit together and rode past Victoria Station and the back of Buckingham Palace Gardens, which was all stone wall and barbed wire and trees from the Grosvenor Place side. We skirted the north side of Hyde Park, got off at Notting Hill Gate, and found a Tesco grocery store. It was very centering for me to be in a real grocery store - it puts me in my element. We bought Cornish scones and rhubarb-vanilla yogurt. There were no shopping carriages, only plastic baskets, no parking lot, and no Russian speaking cashiers. (Hi, Sam!) After a few days in a hotel area, it was nice to find a place that sells bread and groceries.
Back outside on the streets, I was puzzling with my map when a friendly man asked if we needed help. He had a book in his hand about a musician's trip through the south and south west (Memphis, Amarillo, Phoenix, etc.) He directed us to Portobello Road. The market is only on Friday and Saturday, but we walked down the road with the haunting tune from "Bedknobs and Broomsticks," in our heads. In 2001 we were there on a market day and bought some British edition Harry Potter books. The facades were brightly colored stucco: pink and blue and yellow. They reminded me of St. Croix colors.
Looking for a place to sit down and eat our scones, I steered us to Pembridge Square, which had a wrought iron fence all around. I asked a passer-by how to get in. It's a private garden, it turns out. She offered to unlock the gate for us, "but how would you get out?" So, we chatted with her. She's Greek and came to Oxford about 25 years ago. She loves Notting Hill, but thinks it has gone to tourists too much and lost some of its charm.
The yogurt was mildly rhubarb, the scones were good, but, oh! for a microwave in our room! I don't know where we would fit it...
London Day Two
Verdi's Requiem was a wonderfully moving experience. When we got tickets, the Barbican was nearly sold out, so we got two seats right up against the stage. We had a great view of the cellists and bassists, the conductor, and the tenor and baritone soloists, but couldn't see the bottom half of the huge chorus on risers behind the orchestra. The sound was glorious. The baritone, Robert Hayward, was especially good. The Guildhall School of Music and Drama supplied the symphony orchestra and chorus.
Sunday morning we walked through Hyde Park and onto Exhibition Road to the LDS Hyde Park congregation. It's a wonderfully cosmopolitan group. They receive so many visitors that they just have the visitors stand briefly en masse, rather than elicit individual introductions. They say it gets really crowded in the summer.
After church, we strolled to the Victoria and Albert Museum. Right on the ground floor is the scuplture exhibit. They have an "Age of Bronze" by Auguste Rodin, which we saw in the Philadelphia Rodin Museum earlier this month, and several Rodin pieces that were new to us.
My favorite piece in the museum was a life-size terracotta sculpture of a seated peasant woman in wooden shoes nursing a baby by Aime-Jules Dalau (1838-1902). I found a photo by searching the V & A museum sculpture collection for "Aime-Jules." Try it! http://www.vam.ac.uk/collections/index.html
On our way back through Hyde Park we stopped at the Diana, Princess of Wales Memorial fountain, which was full of children and adults wading. With a little (a lot?) of imagination, you can see it as a huge necklace made of moving water. It would be more effective as art without all the waders, but it's a pretty idea.
We also paid homage to the Peter Pan statue featured in one of my favorite movies, Hook, with Robin Williams as a grown-up, uptight Peter Pan and Dustin Hoffman as a marvelous James Hook. The statue is actually in the Kensington Gardens, next to the Serpentine. We thought of Lestrade dragging the Serpentine in Sherlock Holmes, but saw only small pleasure boats. And heard a lot of Spanish, presumably of the Continental variety.
Sunday morning we walked through Hyde Park and onto Exhibition Road to the LDS Hyde Park congregation. It's a wonderfully cosmopolitan group. They receive so many visitors that they just have the visitors stand briefly en masse, rather than elicit individual introductions. They say it gets really crowded in the summer.
After church, we strolled to the Victoria and Albert Museum. Right on the ground floor is the scuplture exhibit. They have an "Age of Bronze" by Auguste Rodin, which we saw in the Philadelphia Rodin Museum earlier this month, and several Rodin pieces that were new to us.
My favorite piece in the museum was a life-size terracotta sculpture of a seated peasant woman in wooden shoes nursing a baby by Aime-Jules Dalau (1838-1902). I found a photo by searching the V & A museum sculpture collection for "Aime-Jules." Try it! http://www.vam.ac.uk/collections/index.html
On our way back through Hyde Park we stopped at the Diana, Princess of Wales Memorial fountain, which was full of children and adults wading. With a little (a lot?) of imagination, you can see it as a huge necklace made of moving water. It would be more effective as art without all the waders, but it's a pretty idea.
We also paid homage to the Peter Pan statue featured in one of my favorite movies, Hook, with Robin Williams as a grown-up, uptight Peter Pan and Dustin Hoffman as a marvelous James Hook. The statue is actually in the Kensington Gardens, next to the Serpentine. We thought of Lestrade dragging the Serpentine in Sherlock Holmes, but saw only small pleasure boats. And heard a lot of Spanish, presumably of the Continental variety.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
London Day One
Virgin Atlantic Flight 12 left Boston Logan Airport at 7:45 p.m. on Friday, 25 September 2009 with Jim and me in seats 60J and 60K. We've taken our empty nest on the road. The flight was just under 7 hours, arriving around 8 a.m. London time. With our Oyster cards in hand(30 pds each for 7 days, unlimited Tube and bus rides), we took the Picadilly Line to the Circle Line and left our luggage at the hotel: Abbey Court near Paddington Station. We stayed here in July 2001 with our six children, then ages 10-20. The room is cozy, with a large sycamore tree outside our huge window.
I purposely didn't bring a camera. Mine's kinda clunky and doesn't take action shots. So, I'll just buy postcards along the way. For you blog followers, you'll have to use your imagination.
We toured King's Cross Station. A sign informed us that they'd moved Platform 9 3/4 due to renovation and directed us to its temporary location. When we visited in 2001, there was no brick wall between Platform 9 and Platform 10, so I wonder if this is a recent addition...It has the end of a luggage trolley bolted to the wall, so it looks like the trolley is entering Platform 9 3/4.
St. Pancras Station has a beautiful "glass-and-iron train shed, which for many years had the largest clear-span in the world." (TimeOut London, 2009 edition) Next to the station is the British Library, not to be confused with the British Museum, which housed the British Library until 1997.
A Parliamentary committee called the 1997 British Library "one of the ugliest buildings in the world" (ibid). Inside it the dimly lit John Ritblat Gallery houses an amazing collection of books and manuscripts, including Handel's hand-written Messiah score, a huge Gutenburg Bible, which was illumined by hand, a teenage journal of Jane Austen, a dictionary that Samuel Johnson created and two of the four existing copies of the Magna Carta. I was especially anxious to see those having heard that a copy of the Magna Carta has travelled to Fraunces Tavern in lower Manhattan. Samuel Johnson is one of Jim's favorites. He's been re-reading his biography by Boswell lately.
We bought some sandwiches and have settled in our rooms, trying desparately not to fall asleep, in order to acclimate quickly to the 5 hour time difference. Tonight it's Verdi's Requiem at the Barbican Centre. Hopefully that will be forte enough to keep us awake.
I purposely didn't bring a camera. Mine's kinda clunky and doesn't take action shots. So, I'll just buy postcards along the way. For you blog followers, you'll have to use your imagination.
We toured King's Cross Station. A sign informed us that they'd moved Platform 9 3/4 due to renovation and directed us to its temporary location. When we visited in 2001, there was no brick wall between Platform 9 and Platform 10, so I wonder if this is a recent addition...It has the end of a luggage trolley bolted to the wall, so it looks like the trolley is entering Platform 9 3/4.
St. Pancras Station has a beautiful "glass-and-iron train shed, which for many years had the largest clear-span in the world." (TimeOut London, 2009 edition) Next to the station is the British Library, not to be confused with the British Museum, which housed the British Library until 1997.
A Parliamentary committee called the 1997 British Library "one of the ugliest buildings in the world" (ibid). Inside it the dimly lit John Ritblat Gallery houses an amazing collection of books and manuscripts, including Handel's hand-written Messiah score, a huge Gutenburg Bible, which was illumined by hand, a teenage journal of Jane Austen, a dictionary that Samuel Johnson created and two of the four existing copies of the Magna Carta. I was especially anxious to see those having heard that a copy of the Magna Carta has travelled to Fraunces Tavern in lower Manhattan. Samuel Johnson is one of Jim's favorites. He's been re-reading his biography by Boswell lately.
We bought some sandwiches and have settled in our rooms, trying desparately not to fall asleep, in order to acclimate quickly to the 5 hour time difference. Tonight it's Verdi's Requiem at the Barbican Centre. Hopefully that will be forte enough to keep us awake.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Challenge Course 4 at Heber Valley, Utah
I can't believe it! I'm in Salt Lake City watching my brother reading a truck book! Must be a slow day...No, really, I enjoyed seeing G, especially the outside shots of suburban New Jersey:
http://carlssummerblog.blogspot.com/2009/07/big-truck.html.
I'll be leaving Utah tomorrow. We had a great family reunion at a church campground in Heber Valley at about 10 thousand feet. It was wonderful seeing aunts and uncles and cousins. We had great food, a beautiful lake to canoe on and "challenge course four." This consisted of a 25 ft. telephone pole to be scaled, a 25 foot long high-wire to be traversed, with knotted ropes dangling above it at about 6 foot intervals for handholds, and another telephone pole at the far end of the high wire with a little perch to sit on, from which one is launched on a zip wire:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zip_wire
Family History note: our son had an unfortunate incident with a zip wire when he was in kindergarten, which involved a lot of blood and his two front teeth being pushed up.
I had heard about the zip wire and was looking forward to riding it. However, no one had told me how you got to the zip wire. When I first saw it, I was SURE I wouldn't be taking the challenge EVER. But they wouldn't let me do the zip wire without going up the pole, across the high-wire and onto the teeny little perch.
Obviously the end of this story is that I did the challenge and survived. I was nearly sick with anxiety at the thought of possibly even trying even just the telephone pole climb, possibly. Once I started,it was really scary, but very safe. I was harnessed to a belay rope (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Belaying). Luckily, while I was debating about the attempt, I overheard someone say, "Don't look down," which was the best advice I could have had. I never came close to looking down. In fact, the view of the treetops in the distance is burned into my memory. I'm not sure I've ever concentrated so hard on anything as I did that view. It was intense. My mouth has never been so dry, not even after surgery when the nurse wouldn't let me even swish water in my mouth. About mid-high-wire, my dry mouth was almost as bad as the fear itself.
The zip wire was fun. Since it starts about 25 feet above the forest, it's really an amazing ride. Many people rode the zip wire "no hands," but after the high-wire ordeal I gave myself permission to hang on tight. I shook for quite awhile afterward.
This was at 11 a.m. Our group was also scheduled for 2 p.m. and since there were some extra tickets, I considered going again. It felt so unreal that I had actually done it that I wanted to do it a second time to convince myself I'd done it once. I spent a long, long time watching others accomplish the challenge, including my son for the second time and my daughter for the first, before I committed to going again. It was just a little teeny bit less scary. Before I started up I took a few sips of water and remembered to breathe through my nose, so my mouth wasn't quite so dry.
The second time, I waved my arms on the zip wire. Triumph!
BTW, my sneakers have done the challenge 4 times: once with me at 11 a.m., once on my son, who didn't bring sneakers and had broken the shoelaces of his father's sneakers in the morning, once on my daughter and then on me again. What brave little sneakers!
http://carlssummerblog.blogspot.com/2009/07/big-truck.html.
I'll be leaving Utah tomorrow. We had a great family reunion at a church campground in Heber Valley at about 10 thousand feet. It was wonderful seeing aunts and uncles and cousins. We had great food, a beautiful lake to canoe on and "challenge course four." This consisted of a 25 ft. telephone pole to be scaled, a 25 foot long high-wire to be traversed, with knotted ropes dangling above it at about 6 foot intervals for handholds, and another telephone pole at the far end of the high wire with a little perch to sit on, from which one is launched on a zip wire:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zip_wire
Family History note: our son had an unfortunate incident with a zip wire when he was in kindergarten, which involved a lot of blood and his two front teeth being pushed up.
I had heard about the zip wire and was looking forward to riding it. However, no one had told me how you got to the zip wire. When I first saw it, I was SURE I wouldn't be taking the challenge EVER. But they wouldn't let me do the zip wire without going up the pole, across the high-wire and onto the teeny little perch.
Obviously the end of this story is that I did the challenge and survived. I was nearly sick with anxiety at the thought of possibly even trying even just the telephone pole climb, possibly. Once I started,it was really scary, but very safe. I was harnessed to a belay rope (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Belaying). Luckily, while I was debating about the attempt, I overheard someone say, "Don't look down," which was the best advice I could have had. I never came close to looking down. In fact, the view of the treetops in the distance is burned into my memory. I'm not sure I've ever concentrated so hard on anything as I did that view. It was intense. My mouth has never been so dry, not even after surgery when the nurse wouldn't let me even swish water in my mouth. About mid-high-wire, my dry mouth was almost as bad as the fear itself.
The zip wire was fun. Since it starts about 25 feet above the forest, it's really an amazing ride. Many people rode the zip wire "no hands," but after the high-wire ordeal I gave myself permission to hang on tight. I shook for quite awhile afterward.
This was at 11 a.m. Our group was also scheduled for 2 p.m. and since there were some extra tickets, I considered going again. It felt so unreal that I had actually done it that I wanted to do it a second time to convince myself I'd done it once. I spent a long, long time watching others accomplish the challenge, including my son for the second time and my daughter for the first, before I committed to going again. It was just a little teeny bit less scary. Before I started up I took a few sips of water and remembered to breathe through my nose, so my mouth wasn't quite so dry.
The second time, I waved my arms on the zip wire. Triumph!
BTW, my sneakers have done the challenge 4 times: once with me at 11 a.m., once on my son, who didn't bring sneakers and had broken the shoelaces of his father's sneakers in the morning, once on my daughter and then on me again. What brave little sneakers!
Monday, June 22, 2009
The great paint project
When I was a graduated senior from Westfield, NJ High School, I painted my parent's 3 story house. It had grey shingles. (I always spell grey with an e.) This summer Annie, entering sophomore at U of Wisconsin-Madison, has contracted to paint our 3 story. The 3rd floor dormers are vinyl-sided, so she won't need to rent a longer ladder like I did the day I painted the exterior 3rd floor.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Lawn mowing
So, just a few weeks ago, I realized that Sam wouldn't be around to mow the lawn. Since we have an acre of land, this is a big deal. Jim mowed a week or two ago and today was my turn. I clocked it as exactly 2 hours.
My hands are very sore from squeezing the safety handle for two hours. No blisters raised.
Note to self: wear garden gloves while mowing.
Sam's majority
It's the end of an era: twenty-eight years of mothering minor children. At the suggestion of a wise friend of mine, I've been preparing, trying to give myself permission to recognize this as a stressful transition: happy stress, but something with emotional weight. To pay attention to my emotional self and not try to tough it out by ignoring or denying the deep emotions that surface. I have kept myself from crying uncontrollably, but I have accepted tears welling up and acknowledged the feelings.
>
Sam's graduation was June 7, 2009 at the Tsongas Arena in Lowell. Then on Thursday, June 18, he packed up and we drove him to Logan Airport. As I watched him clear security and saunter down the gate corridor to disappear from sight, I turned to Jim and cried on his shoulder. Such a mixture of pride, joy, sadness, and curiousity of what his future will hold. He texted me when he boarded the flight and now he's at BYU, getting oriented and starting classes on Monday.
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