The Boys' Guide to London Photo Book

http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8DcsXLli0YUs

Click on the link above to view the photo book I created about my experiences in London to share with my four sons!

Normal Life??

I am in the Phoenix airport.  Fortunately, not still, but again.  I arrived here from Heathrow less than 36 hours ago, now I am back, this time with my four boys.  We are on our way to a family wedding in Steamboat, Colorado.  The boys are looking forward to wearing their new suits, seeing second-cousins who babysat them 10 years ago, and dancing all night long (the apple doesn't fall far from the tree).

The past 36 hours have been intense--sleeping for the first time in 24 hours after my trans-atlantic flight, getting school supplies for Grant and Ari, who have their first day on Monday (the day we roll back into town), paying bills, changing furnace filters, dropping gifts off for friends, haircuts....normal life.  I told my flatmates that most days I don't sit down all day long--and that is true (except for in the car when I am chauffeuring from school to marital arts, to play practice, to mandolin lessons...).  I didn't sit down much in London (except to do classwork on the computer) but that is the only similarity my life in Prescott has in common with the three weeks I spent  London.

I hadn't left my kids over night for the first 10 years of Grant's life.  I was with them 24/7 for years--I remember being at the dentist's office when I had 3 babies under the age of 5 and thinking, "This is the first time I have been alone for months."  Getting my teeth cleaned was bliss.  Contrast that with London in July--I got a bed to myself, I got to wake up and go to bed whenever I wanted, I could go to the Pub, eat Indian food, dance all night, walk for miles...I got to do my own thing on my own schedule.  Sure, I had flatmates and class deadlines, but their pull on me was pretty small compared the to pull of four boys who want fed three times a day and expect clean clothes and entertainment daily.

I loved my crew in London, we had unbelievably good times--they schooled me on things that I missed out on, since I skipped over the single scene and went straight to married at age 21 and have been immersed in kid life for the past 13 years.  I learned new slang, had my mind blown by song lyrics, and now have a list of ten movies I must watch to be hip.  We are already making plans to meet up at the ALA conference in Las Vegas next summer.  They will be glad to see me, but they won't be jumping up and down and yelling, "Mama, Mama, Mama! I missed you, did you bring us presents?  Do you like my haircut?  What was your favorite thing you ate in England?  Can we move to Dublin?  Do English men really always wear dress shoes?  Which dress shoes should I take to London? When can we open presents?"  All within the first 20 seconds I see them...

My boys really missed me--I was busy and having new experiences and filling my days with London, Paris, and Ireland.  They were at home together, watching movies, playing with friends, and waiting for me to get home.  The reception I got melted my heart, made me proud of them and redouble my resolve to take them with me on the next trip.  I may not get to do whatever I want when I want, but it will be richer when I see new things through their eyes filled with wonder.  And when I do sit down, the four seats next to me will be filled with my boys.

The Ultimate.

The ultimate day.  Our last day in London is already here.  I can't believe the time has gone so fast.  It seems like just yesterday, not three weeks ago, I arrived to my flat on Great Russell Street.  Some of my  class mates are super anxious to go home, I am not as ready yet--I miss my boys, but I would rather have them come here to me than to go back to them in Arizona.  I keep seeing things and having experiences I want them to share with me.  They would love all the clothes and music here, they would be fascinated by the crazy street signs (PLEASE USE TOILETS PROVIDED) and street performers.  The trains would be fun, the rollerblading police would be thrilling, and the cases of pastries would delight.

Everything, even run-of-the-mill things like buying groceries and going to the park is different here, and the kids would revel in it.  They would love the ponds in the Regent's Park, the self-scanners at Sainsbury's.  Ordinary things like vintage green scooters at Old Spittlefield Markets would be memorable.

I will show them the pictures and tell them about the skyscraper I saw that was covered in plants.  I will play the video I shot of the Rolling Stones concert.  I will share everything I have seen and really hope that my four boys will get have the same wonderful experience in London as I have had the past three weeks.  This trip has re-affirmed by desire to travel with them more, to show them there is much more in the world than just what they know in Prescott, Arizona.  They need to know how diverse the rest of the world is, that most people I met speak more than one language, and the importance of wearing really nice shoes.

I was dreaming of taking them to London, and then to Paris, but now I think that I would start out in Ireland.  I didn't know what to expect in Dublin, but I would love to take the kids there.  I was stunned at the warm atmosphere.  Everyone I met, totally without exception, was kind, cheerful, and jovial.  I loved the humor and the winking and the accents.  Quinn, my 11-year-old, has the life goal of acquiring an accent.  Maybe it should be Irish....

My first full day here I posted about the ceramic thing I saw in the stationary store that said, "Anything Can Happen Today."  Lots of amazing, beautiful things happened on my trip.  I loved, loved my time here and my varied experiences.
In Dublin, I happen to walk by the National Library of Ireland, in a regal complex right next to the Parliament buildings.  There was a huge hanging banner outside that said, "What will you find today?"  A terrific marketing motto for the library, and a terrific outlook to carry into daily life.  I will take that home to my boys...

English food. I can't stop eating....

Mushy peas, spotted dick, blood sausage, bangers and mash.   The names don't conjure up images  of gastric delight to most Americans, or maybe to most tourists in general.  Great Britain is not known for its food--well, it is known for the funny names of its food--but not for its deliciousness.  Actually, Britain is famous for poor, bland food.  Researching a trip to Chile four years ago, I was warned it was the England of Latin America--every meal a bland piece of meat, a pile of white rice or boiled potatoes, and a bread so nondescript, it defies description.




Happily, the food here has been a surprising treat.  London is not living up to its reputation for plain and soggy food.  We are eating so well, I don't want to go back to Arizona food.  One huge reason is the astounding selection of food--the diversity in London stuns me everyday.  I am not at all used to seeing Iranian, Turkish, Japanese, and Indian food at all, let alone on the same block as a Proper Burger restaurant (best green olives I have ever had) and a Fish and Chips place.  In the Brick Lane Market in the East End, there is a food court that has food stalls from 29 different countries.  Astounding.  I had Moroccan food for the first time.  The options, the options.  Tapas, sushi, pizza, falafel...is this heaven?  No, it's London.

One trend here I see daily is the propensity of people to pop into a take-away place or a market and buy a lunch to go, often eating it outside in a park (really common right now since the weather is so hot and most places don't have A/C, it's more pleasant outside in the shade than indoors).  It surprised me at first that places charge one price for take-away and another to eat-in.  I discovered the reason is that on eat-in food, the restaurant is required to collect the 20% sales tax, take-away is exempt.  Since buying food to go is so popular, the choices, even just at the local grocery store deli, are amazing.  I have seen prawns with sauce, baguette sandwiches of every variety imaginable, couscous with feta, and my personal favorite I have been packing for our field trips, tuna, corn and pasta salad.

Cucumber sandwiches, peppery eggs salad, papaya tarts, and my favorite--scones with clotted cream were on three-story serving trays at high tea Tuesday.  We had real china at the Orangery next to Kensington Palace (the TV news vans were out in full-force covering the birth of William and Kate's baby).  It was really too hot to drink tea--at least in my humble opinion--I guess some people think hot drinks make you feel cool.  I just don't see it.  Give me iced tea in 90 degree weather anytime.  But, it was a blast to laugh over having one lump or two and to split all the treats so we could taste each one.  I got a lot of grief over finishing everyone's clotted cream, but it was just so good...

One night in Dublin...

This sounds like the start of a joke, but it is actually what I am doing today, spending one night in Dublin.  At the beginning of the July, I thought it was ridiculous to go all the way to Dublin on the last Friday and Saturday of my time in London--but a few days ago, it seemed perfectly logical.  After all, it is only a 1 hour flight, and when is the last time I was in three countries in one week (never).  So here I am.

Admittedly, I didn't have much in the way of expectations.  I hadn't planned on coming until a couple of days ago, so didn't research.  And, I didn't think it would be much different from London.  But, just a few hours in, I really like it.  I have been called mate, dear, and love already today.  Squeal!  I am enamored with that.

It was raining when I got here, but beautifully sunny when I got lost and was wondering around the city centre, taking in the sights.  Overall, its a bit grittier and a bit more real than London.  The first think I saw was a guy throwing up into the gutter.  There are all kinds of fake Chanel handbag stalls and electronic stores where they "unlock your phone"  right downtown in the tourist center. There are also lots of chain stores coming in.  I found a public library with free wifi in one of the new mall-type complexes.

The library was very welcoming, which hasn't been my experience with other libraries on my trip.  Welcoming and well-used, it took me a few minutes to find a seat where I could sit down and connect my laptop in order to set my meet-up plans with my lobster (see previous post).  That done, I wondered around a bit, impressed by the diversity of patrons and services.  There was a children's section, computers, a display on local music festivals, and a photography exhibit on the use of prams as carts for traders throughout Dublin's recent past.  I am hoping to run into one, now that I know about them and see it for myself.  There was also a very large music section in the library, full of patrons listening to selections on headphones and checking our cds--and, there were two piano keyboards with music stands and headphones, and signs saying,  "Learn to play the piano here."  And both of the pianos had adult patrons, wearing headphones and practicing!!

I left and wandered around the centre a bit--though it was touristy, it was also packed with locals, out shopping or walking.  It meandered down some alleys and crossed a lovely iron bridge, under an arch and ended up in Temple Bar.  Now, one person told me to stay out of Temple Bar and one told me to make sure and go to Temple Bar.  It is basically an area of shops and, mostly, bars--lots of people even at 2:00 o'clock,  and lots of street performers.  It was great!
I stopped at a pub, it was full of drunk Irishmen on their way out, so I figured it was authentic.  I sat at the bar and a bartender with a lovely accent served me steak and fried potatoes while a young man played folk music on an acoustic guitar.  I just kept thinking how lucky it was that I took a chance and came to Dublin for one night.

Mixing It Up With FSU Study Abroad Programs--Group Video Project

My Lobster Flatmate

Lucky only scratches the surface of how I feel about my flatmates.  Back I Arizona last month, I had a mini-panic attack when It occurred to me that I could get stuck in a room with someone who had the TV on all day.  Yes, constant TV was my worst fear, having not watched any for about 12 years.  But now I realize I could have got stuck with flatmates who had way worse issues than TV addictions.  But, I didn't, I got flatmates I love, especially my roommate who I share a bedroom with, Melissa.  My lobster flatmate.

Melissa, Keila, Katie, Me, Hillary

Apparently, being someone's lobster comes from the show Friends--Phoebe talks about how lobsters stick together for life and says Ross and Rachel are one another's lobsters.  Melissa has a house on Cape Cod, and therefore a thing for lobsters.  She also has a boyfriend lobster.  But, as she says multiple times each day, I am her roommate lobster.
Woot! Lucky me.  

Paris.  Oh Paris.

Melissa is a total crack-up, she keeps me laughing all day.  We go to bed about the same time, and she's a hard sleeper, so I don't have to feel guilty about waking her up when I hop out of bed at 5:30 a.m.  We eat out together a lot--it's easy because we both like steak and Pimm's, although we've had fantastic Indian food.  She's converted me to afternoon iced coffee, and I've converted her to Zumba.  Not really.  She won't budge on the Zumba, citing 84 left feet and claiming to pose a danger to others.  Melissa also claims to be the whitest person on earth, but can't really be because her iPod has Jay-Z doing the dirtiest song I have ever heard.

I thought the making of Harry Potter was an amusement park.
It's not really, so we pretending the bus was a roller coaster. 

Melissa andI have really been looking forward to today--we've planned all week to go to Harrods and then back to Camden Locks Market to get fish pedicures.  Melissa had seen this there and was excited to go back, I said I was up for a new experience.

Harrods was fantastic--five floors of designer/luxury goods, from Tiffany engagement rings (one of us tried some on) to 700 pound scarfs, to caviar counters and stacks of pastries.  The center of the store has amazing Egyptian columns and gilded escalators.  I bought presents for the boys in the Qatar section, note books and t-shirts in Arabic (they were 80% off).  The savings on souvenirs was more than spent in the Steakhouse on the food galleries, where they cut the steak to our specifications, grilled it in front of us and served it with creamed spinach, mashed potatoes, gravy, and béarnaise sauce.  Totally worth the pounds (both ways).

So Harrod's was great.  Fish pedicure, not so much.  My lobster really steered me wrong on this one.  I imagine a tranquil pool of water with four goldfish gently caressing my feet.  Instead, it was like an attack of piranhas in a feeding frenzy.  Relaxing fish exfoliating massage, my foot.  It was like torture--a wriggling mass all over my feet--in between the toes was the worst.  I really tried to man up and continue, and after the initial pull-out I did put them back in for a few minutes, but it was intensely awful.  I bailed, but Melissa stayed in for the long haul.  We both agreed we never, ever needed to do that again.

Tomorrow, my lobster and I are off to Dublin for a two-day dip into Ireland.  It was Melissa's idea, but I am going to give her the benefit of the doubt--nothing can be as bad as a fish pedicure.