Things I Don't Want to Forget

We're settled back into life at home: school is starting, back to work, back to doing all that normal stuff you do by rote. That's what I love about traveling: Everything is new and different, and one can be so aware and awake, rather than stumbling unawares through one's normal routine.

There are a few things I'd like to remember about the trip that weren't captured in other stories or in photos. Here goes:

• The price of petrol! Oh my god!!! We put 70 liters in the car to fill it up, and the price came to 99 pounds. We had to triple check our conversions there, but that seems to be $8.64 per gallon. Yikes! Makes what we spent on trains and buses seem much cheaper all of a sudden.
• Brown sauce: the British love their sauces -- maybe that's where they think the flavor is?? Repeatedly we were asked if we would like "brown sauce" with that: with pasties, sausages, breakfast sandwiches. Finally, at one place, I said they could throw in a couple "brown sauce" packets -- they were like the little ketchup packets that come with fast food, but they just said "brown sauce." Alex and I tasted it later, a little fingertip-worth, and I swear I thought it tasted like "brown." If brown had a flavor, that would be it. But a Google search revealed that it's just steak sauce, like A-1. A-1 Steak Sauce is "brown sauce." (Seriously: taste some A-1 and tell me it doesn't taste "brown.")
• My favorite television commercial: A commercial for Soda-Stream, that do-it-yourself sparkling water system. A little boy's voice comes on, in a thick British accent, and says: "We've only got one bottle of fizz at home, with 32 flavors!!!" I couldn't help it: that one bottle of fizz made me laugh every time.
• Hanging our laundry to dry: Apparently this is a custom in Britain. Even if they have a dryer, the Brits hang their laundry out to dry. The flat where we stayed had one of those tiny front-loading washing machines that was under the counter in the kitchen. But it also doubled as a dryer if you were in a pinch. But everyone in the complex of flats, and in the town in general, and in the country in general, hung their laundry out to dry. At first I thought I was being so ecological. But do you know how much work it is to hang the laundry for a family of four??? Especially if you can only hang it on a small drying rack on a small balcony. And what if you want to wash and dry towels and sheets? I am happy to have my dryer back.
• The scale of things: everything is just on a smaller scale in Britain. The cars are small, the roads are small, homes are small, the refridgerator is small, so all the food packaging is small (forget about getting a gallon of milk, or even a half gallon! We once even got a four-egg carton of eggs). We were quite cramped in that 2-bedroom flat, but I'm not sure a house would have felt that much bigger.

It was a really great trip. We had such a good time, we are already thinking about where to go next: Italy? Spain? Ahhh, the possibilities....

Final days

We all so enjoyed the National English Sheepdog Trials. It was just 30 minutes from our flat, and it was the first time we didn't feel that we were having every tourist dollar sucked out of us. We felt more like locals! Free parking, kids free. Loved it. Arthur's pictures are far superior to mine, so I'll direct you to his: https://picasaweb.google.com/107594137102369752950/SheepdogTrials?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCPyrw-yz06-F_QE&feat=directlink

We then walked around the nearby town, Dorking (Arthur kept calling it "Dorkville;" was it his usual sarcasm, or did he really keep forgetting the actual name? Another fun neighborhood name: Cockfosters, the last stop on one of the tube lines---nothing quite like hearing the loudspeaker announce "This is the Piccadilly line to Cockfosters." Alex could barely contain himself). There was a beautiful cathedral in Dorking, but also lots of regular folk out on a Saturday afternoon. I love to soak up the normal life of a place, to see how similar we all are, the world over: spoiled kids crying, parents pulling their hair out, teens hanging with their friends. In fact, one day I went to the Shepperton Library to ask about printing something, and one of the older employees was a bit short and rude, I thought, saying, without me ever having said where I was from or where I was staying, "Don't you have internet in your hotel room." I thought that was a bit presumptuous, and I was telling the story to Arthur and the kids when Anna said, "Well, old ladies who work at libraries are always rude." Yes, that has been my experience as well. And now I know it is not just American old ladies who work at libraries.

To top off our last day of soaking up "normal life" in Britain, the kids and I went to the movies. Many movies already open in the U.S. hadn't reached the UK yet. Cowboys & Aliens wasn't opening until August 17. Super 8 opened while we were there, even though it's been in the U.S. for a couple months. But "Rise of the Planet of the Apes" had just opened, so we went to that. Many years ago, I had gone to a movie in Ireland, and the tickets gave assigned seats, so I wondered if it would be the same in Staines, the nearby town with a large cineplex. Although there wasn't assigned seating, there was "VIP" seating, premium seating in leather seats in the more desirable sections of the theater. The regular seats were in the front and way in the back (no leather, but rather large, comfortable seats). We had barely gotten to the theater in time, so when we saw all these vacant seats in the center of the theater, we thought this was our lucky day. Nope. I asked if the seats were taken, and the woman politely said they were the VIP seats and I had to pay extra. Had I? No, I hadn't. I asked how I could tell the difference, and she noted the leather seat thing. Still, we found fine seats and enjoyed the show (well, I mean, I liked the night out; the movie left a lot to be desired).

I really enjoyed being less of a tourist and feeling at least the teeniest bit more like a local, doing what local people do, feeling that we could navigate the roads and go to movies, etc.

Our last day before cleaning and packing we spent at the Royal Airforce Museum. The kids learned about the Battle of Britain and saw a lot of airplanes from all eras. It was free and quite well done.

Next, if I may, I'll try to sum up and note some of the random things I'd like to remember but that didn't merit mention already.

Struck down by a head cold.

I started coming down with something Tuesday and now, Saturday, am only starting to feel a bit better. But I'm afraid Anna may be getting it next! And if not that, then both kids have a sickness of another kind: homesickness. They are homesick for their friends, their beds, and all things familiar.

I am not at all homesick, however! That's the bonus of having all your dear ones travel with you. I wish we had more time, especially with the lost days from being sick. I spent nearly my whole birthday in bed -- didn't get up until 1:00 p.m. Of course, we hadn't gotten to bed until 1:00 a.m. the night before. We went into London to see Warhorse, and the long train ride back to Shepperton got us in late. But we all loved it! I sucked on throat lozenges and restricted nose blowing to the loud moments on stage, so hopefully I did not disturb my fellow audience members too much. Alex, in particular, loved it, but who wouldn't love a story about a boy and his horse and war.

We wondered if, going into London on Wednesday night, we might notice the increased police presence promised by David Cameron and Boris Johnson. (Have you ever seen the mayor of London, usually just called Boris? He's quite a character.) Arthur and the kids had gone to Thorpe Park (big amusement park near Shepperton) on Tuesday, and I stayed home to work and nurse the beginnings of my cold. Since the worst of the riots had taken place Monday night, I kept BBC and Sky News on all day and listened to all the outraged shopkeepers and all the pontificating about disaffected youth, but mostly I heard about the need for a more "robust" police response. I thought "robust" was usually used to describe red wine. Over, and over, and over again: the need for a more robust police response. So, 16,000 police on the streets Tuesday and Wednesday night. But in the center of London, in the theater district, with tons of pubs and shops and restaurants and tourists, we didn't really notice any police, nor on the train ride in or out of London, even though we pass through one of the neighborhoods where there was rioting, Clapham. No police that we could see. Of course, Wednesday night was when the rioting had broken out in Manchester, a city that had contributed extra police to London.

So, our own disaffected youth, ages 10 and 14, have just stayed home and moped and skyped and chatted with their friends, and watched bad television -- hey, just like back home! I insisted on going sightseeing Friday, despite this lingering cold, because we're running out of time! There a couple towns in southeast England I wanted to see: cute villages with important historical significance. I got the family up Friday morning, but the kids wouldn't budge. So, we agreed to leave them at home. We left them with the key to the flat and 20 pounds, and Arthur and I set off. We discovered for the first time that the car we've been driving has GPS navigation, which greatly helped with navigating the motorways and roundabouts, and we visited Rye and Battle (pics below). We arrived back home by 6:30, thinking the kids might be worried, but they were exactly as we had left them: watching TV and on the computers.

Today I'm hoping to get Anna up and go to the last day of the National English Sheepdog Trials: you know, just like in the movie Babe? The dogs have to round up the sheep and be rated on their performance? I thought Anna would love it, but I'll have to see how she's feeling and how the weather holds up. Then maybe one more day in London, then we have to clean the flat, pack, and head home. I could easily stay another week!

The village of Rye. Actually, the official name is "The Ancient Town of Rye." Parts of it date from about 900 years ago.

The view from the Church tower.

The Church tower.

The ancient steps up to the tower. As Arthur said, these are so ancient and unsafe, there's no way the public would be allowed on them in the states: risk of lawsuits.

The clockworks in the tower: a turret clock, dating from 1561, the oldest of its kind in England.

More cobblestone streets in Rye.

The 14th-century entrance gates to Rye.

Part of the abbey in Battle, a village named for the infamous Battle of Hastings, the only successful invasion of England, in 1066, by William of Normandy, ever after known as William the Conqueror. He ordered the abbey built on the site.

The battlefield, preserved for posterity.

Inside part of the abbey buildings. This section dates from only about 500 years ago.

Older sections were started in 1070, and parts were destroyed during the Reformation, when Henry VIII ordered the dissolution of the monasteries in 1539.

The ice house: This is the entrance to a deep, insulated cavern. Ice was harvested in winter and then stored over the summer.

Paris!

So many things to say about this very short trip to Paris. I shall let the photos tell some of the stories for me, but suffice it to say that the trip was a success. We took the train, the Eurostar, under the Chunnel---I was so excited about this part of it, and it was so uneventful! I actually missed it. We had gone through some short tunnels as we left London, so when we went through the actual Chunnel, I had no idea. I paid attention on the way back, and it lasted less than 20 minutes.

It took three metro lines to get to our hotel, and it was a teeny hotel, with the teeniest lift on the planet. Two people could barely fit, let alone with luggage (see pics below, or attempts at pics; you couldn't really fit a camera in that thing). Nevertheless, we opted to stay on the seventh floor, and it had a beautiful view. Best of all, it was around the corner from the Eiffel Tower.

We walked along the Seine that first night, taking in some sights, when the clouds started to turn very black. I suggested we find a cafe before the skies opened up. Arthur thought there was still blue sky to be seen, the storm might pass, but as we felt the first sprinkles, we ran for the closest cafe, and the deluge began. It was unbelievable. We were so lucky to escape it. But as luck would have it, the cafe was extremely expensive. It was worth it to escape that rain (and the food and wine were excellent), but really, that many Euros???! What is the exchange rate again? I'm afraid to check my bank account.

Speaking of food, oh, my, God. We, all of us, instantly noticed the difference: the bread, the cheese, the wine, the coffee. Everything is better in France! After over a week of British food, we were all in awe of French food. We weren't sure we could go back to British fare.

Our seventh-floor rooms in this tiny hotel.

The view

Ummm... Alex, yes, that's seven stories up.

The impossibly small elevator (lift!) in our hotel -- the mirror in the back tries to make it look bigger, but it is miniscule.

this is the entire square footage: 3 x 1.5

Heading out to see the sights, and the first, just around the corner from our hotel, is...

The Eiffel Tower. (As it came in to view for the first time, Anna asked, "Are you sure that's the right one?" She was expecting something different? Bigger? Brighter?

Carousel ride at the base of the Eiffel Tower.

Walking along the Seine. See the black clouds gathering in the background?

Here's the downpour!

We started at the outside seating at our emergency shelter, but had to move inside. It really came down!

Next day: taking the stairs up to the second floor to catch the lift the rest of the way (much shorter line this way!)

The Paris police were conducting some sort of maneuvers on the tower that day.

View from the top.

Anna pointed out the Taj Mahal! (It's actually the Sacre Coeur, in Montmatre.)

More police maneuvers...

and rescues?

Notre Dame.

Alex lit a candle for Cate.

Can you see the gargoyles sticking out from the side of the cathedral -- Alex wants one for his room

Anna dragged us to many, many souvenir stores

The Louvre.

The mob scene in front of the Mona Lisa. It was just ridiculous. The painting is fenced off from the public and under special protective glass, and this mob of people take their pictures in front of it. Silly.

Eiffel Tower by night...

...before it started to rain again.

Salisbury, Stonehenge

I had made this trip years ago, with my good friend Cindy, freeloading with her group of students doing a semester in London. On that trip, I remember being somewhat underwhelmed by Stonehenge and overwhelmed by the cathedral at Salisbury. This time, it was the reverse. I guess I had my expectations lowered by Arthur's constant harping about how you couldn't get that close to the stones---which I knew from the last time. But I felt like we were fairly close. And I got the kids up early, and used our location west of London to our advantage by getting out there by 10:00, before the big tour buses from London, so it wasn't that crowded.

Comments from Anna: The stones were more close together than I thought they would be

Comments from Alex: "I don't want anything I say to go in your blog."

Obligatory poses in front of the stones.

Anna taking a picture of Alex taking a picture of Anna taking a picture...

Lots of sheep in the fields around the stones.

Salisbury Cathedral.

Stone carving on the facade of the cathedral.

A present-day exhibit at the cathedral -- these sculptures were strategically placed all over the cathedral, inside and out. It was a little jarring.

Anna standing in front of the new baptismal font inside the cathedral.