Brits For A While

Scott: Final Thoughts

2009-04-08T23:59:00.003+01:00

Time to close up this blog for good. Winging our way over the Atlantic, I'm excited to be going home, returning to the land where garbage bags open and sandwich bags close. The first thing I plan to do when I arrive home is shop for groceries. It will be a pleasure to look for products where they "ought" to be--at least according to American logic. Whatever I buy, be it sugar located next to flour, or mustard located next to ketchup, I'm going to buy a lot of it, just because I know I'm not limited to what I can carry. But that's not to say I'm not going to miss this place as well. Mostly, I'll miss our daily, hourly and minute-by-minute talks as a family about the interesting, funny and culturally diverse things we see and experience. For sure, I'll miss the tubes, busses and trains which take nearly all the hassle out of transportation. But most of all, I think I'll the vibrancy of the city, a byproduct of its multiculturalism, its culture of youth, its throngs of tourists from every corner of the globe and its financiers who seek to dominate the world from this tiny little spit of land. They are giants in their own way. If I've learned anything on this trip, it is that this "green and pleasant land" is a lot more than just a pastoral setting steeped in history. Sure, it's filled with quirky people with quirky ways, but don't let the batty lords, the tattling tabloids and bad-boy royals define British existence: Despite its pretensions, Britain is indeed the center of the world, just as it has been for centuries. If London were an organ, I'm pretty sure it would be the brain--the nerve center of the global body. As I return home to the "little finger" of the planet's, I'll treasure my time here. It has given me valuable space for reflection, relaxation and refinement of values and perceptions. Although I've been a student of British history and British culture all my life, I've always been baffled by the dualing reputations of Britain as a place of cutthroat capitalism and a culture of spirit-dulling socialism. I didn't think they could co-exist, but I've found that they do. Britain, it turns out, is a and of surprising innovation often held back from being all it could become by its deep-rooted reverence for traditions and institutions. Yet it is that very reverence which gives it the sense of rootedness that allows it to remain stable in the face of the gale winds of change. In some ways, I think Britain is all the America wants to be, and all that American's abhor wrapped up in a single place. It is always said that it is easiest to hate most the things you love best. That is the British-American relationship. Separated by history we are inextricably conjoined by culture and mutual fascination. Like a pair of siblings locked in eternal rivalry we disparage each other even as we stand together bound by ties of mutual affection and admiration. We are indeed, two branches growing from a common tree each producing fine fruit which tempts the palate of the rest of the world.

Laura's List: Things I'm Going To Miss

2009-04-08T05:34:00.007+01:00

I'm going to miss the time I had with my husband and my little girls. I'm going to miss our wonderful flat. I'm going to miss my friend Kristin. And, last but not least, I'm going to miss the British Museum and Boots cosmetics. And I'm definitely going to miss the wonderful education that London afforded me on a daily basis. Here are some of the things that struck me.

11. The British are the most polite subway riders I've ever experienced (at least in comparison to Tokyo, New York, D.C., Pittsburgh, San Francisco and Paris). In particular, the women are very likely to give up a seat to an elderly person, a pregnant woman or a little girl who appears in danger of being accidentally trampled during rush hour.
10. The Brits definitely have a "glass half empty" attitude. I'd call them pessimists (though they would say "realist"), while we Americans are basically optimists.
9. London women are wonderfully fashion-forward. The men? No so much.
8. England is not known for its food. Nor should it be.
7. You can understand American culture and attitudes better for studying British history, culture and attitudes.
6. The iconic red phone booths were modeled after a tomb! Giles Gilbert Scott was inspired by the mausoleum that Sir John Soane designed for his beloved wife when she died in 1815.
5. Queen Elizabeth I and her half-sister, Queen Mary I, so different and so estranged in life were actually buried together (though not by choice) in a side chapel of Westminster Abbey.
4. Most of the museums in London are free. The British Museum, which boasts the Rosetta Stone, the largest collection of mummies outside of Cairo and the Elgin Marbles (which the Greek government would dearly love to have back) is an especially good bargain with zero admission!
3. The weather in London in March is fantastic -- moderate temperatures and sunny days. We didn't believe the guidebooks, but they were right. And with tourism at its lowest point in the year, it's an ideal time to visit.
2. The British do not talk to strangers. It's simply not done. If you trip and smack your head on the pavement, they will politely step around you. But they won't talk to you. Trust me. This is not a hypothetical.
1. The Brits love to queue. Seriously. It's in their blood. If you stop anywhere, pretty soon, you'll have 3 or 4 people lined up behind you. I've seen folks with one item wait 20 minutes in a grocery check-out line. In the U.S., we'll put that item down among the checkstand magazines and walk out after about 90 seconds. As one woman said to me, "Well if you wait in line, there must be something really fantastic at the front."

Goodbye, Good Friends

2009-03-31T22:58:00.000+01:00

The Williams's, our dear friends who greeted us on arrival, also dropped by to say farewell.

They've been so much a part of our lives for three months, it is hard to imagine life without them, but we look forward to their return stateside sometime in the next few years. Above, front row from left Cecily, Rhys and Gwyneth; Back row, from left, Meredith, Olivia and the 5-year-old slayer of female hearts, the indefatigable Owain.

We A-Mews Ourselves On Our Last Day

2009-03-30T00:03:00.005+01:00

Oxford beat Cambridge in the big race along the Thames which took place right behind our house today, but we weren't there to see it. We took one look at the crowd of rowdy twenty-somethings headed for the river with enormous quanitities of booze and decided we could spend our time more productively. This being our last day in London, we decided to return to one of our favorite places, Southwark Cathedral, for morning services. The best moment of that was when Cecily decided, uncharasterically, to lend her voice to the hymns and did a pretty good job of carrying the tune! Our next stop was the Royal Mews--the stables adjacent to Buckingham Palace. This was a place Olivia had wanted to go from the start of our visit, and she (and we) were dismayed to find that it is closed for the first three months of every year. Fortunately, the re-opening day turned out to be March 28, so on our last day, we were able to give Olivia her wish. Both she and her sisters enjoyed looking at the horses and were fascinated to learn that the Queen names each one. Olivia thought it was cool that when the queen visits, the stablemaster has to follow her around with a silver tray of carrots and sugar cubes. Also stored at the mews are the amazing royal coaches, including the 4-ton state coach gilded in solid gold (shown at left with Meredith in front.) This amazing piece was built by George III and has only been used four times in the long reign of Queen Elizabeth II. It was a great way to end our visit. For the rest of the afternoon, the girls went for a goodbye play date with Owain, Gwyneth and Rhys while Mom and Dad went home to finish packing. All that remains at this point of our presence at our wonderful little house in London is an enormous pile of luggage in the hallway awaiting the arrival of the car tomorrow.

Olivia's Journal: The Britash Brain

2009-03-28T18:54:00.002Z

Olivia's final homework project was to map the British brain, showing those quirky nodes which we have observed here that are not shared by American cousins across the pond. After three months of keen observation, here are her cryptic notes transcribed from above (with interpretetation added in brackets by the editor as needed.)

The Britash Brain

queen

rain

pubs

tea

queuing

football "soccer"

hate french; love french things

love cheap stinky cheese

after o, ad u [as in colour, flavour, labour and favour]

small gardens

horses

crickat

We may have a budding sociologist on our hands!

Shepherd's Bush Market

2009-03-27T23:30:00.001Z

As our time in London comes to a close, we are still in search of a few last adventures, preferably from the girls' standpoints those that don't include more museums. We got one today with a visit to Shepherd's Bush Market. The market is just a few tube stops from our house. It is nothing formal--just a long-row of shops build under the elevated tube line with row of stalls our front. But it is a world away from a trip to a sanitized supermarket or general goods store environment. The market seems to cater primarily to the African and Middle Eastern populations of London. There is a whole store dedicated to Middle Eastern bridalwear, including brightly jeweled tiaras and crowns of many varities, which the girls thought were the perfect choice for an up-and-coming princess. The grocery was full of things like yam flour and big containers of palm oil and all sorts of other products you just don't see at Sainsbury's. Persian-inspired carpets competed with bejewelled furniture and clothing and there various shops selling headresses and burkhas for women. Right in the middle in a strangely discordant location, there is a shop selling London souvenir paraphenalia and Christian-inspired wares includes crucifixes, rosarys, icons, statuettes and incense censors. At every turn we saw something interesting presenting another opportunity to emphasize to the girls that we have to share the planet with many cultures other than our own.

A Farewell Dinner

2009-03-27T23:28:00.002Z

Our primary reason for visiting Shepherd's Bush Market was to see it, but we also had a practical purpose: we were checking out the possibilities in order to complete our grocery shopping for a farewell dinner party we were throwing tonight for our friends Kristin and Gareth who have done so much to make this trip possible. One of the advantages of having a house instead of a hotel is that one can entertain one's friends in style, and we wanted to make the most of it. So we "put on the dog" and used every available dish for a big bash. Shepherd's Bush turned out to be a big help because it has a fish market which offers fresh catch at ridiculously low prices--f20 for a bag of prawns and four fat frozen salmon steaks. One person can hardly get a hamburger for tht price in this town, muchless four. With our company well fed, we enjoyed a great evening of conversation, storytelling of reminisces and current events. Gareth held us enthralled as he explained that the animosity between the city's financial community and the anti-capitalists which has everyone excited as the G20 Summit approaches actually has deep roots. Apparently, we have these marches, smaller in scale, frequently, and the usual response of the financial crowd is to hang out of the balconies of their buildings and throw f20 notes down on the marchers and laugh while the marchers show their hypocrisy as they scramble to grab them. We broke up the party just before midnight, wondering why we hadn't found the time to do this more often over three months.

Let's Talk About Succession

2009-03-27T08:19:00.003Z

Prime Minister Gordon Brown's unpopularity took another hit yesterday as Britain was unable to seld a bond issue amidst increasing fears that the government hasn't the ability to pay back its debts. So what does a government do to distract the public? Turn its attention to the royal family, of course. An item in The Telegraph this morning announces that the PM is meeeting with the palace to discuss plans to amend the Settlement Act of 1701 to allow two major changes: to allow those in the line of succession to marry Roman Catholics and to allow women to succeed to the throne on an equal basis with men. Presently, women can inherit the throne but only behind their brothers. The Act has implications because if it were retroactive, the Princess Anne and her children would leapfrog Andrew and Edward and their children, upsetting the line established for half a century. Such a move would have international implications since the sovereign also is nominally head of state for the the Commonwealth nations. Objections are expected when the prime minister addresses the issue at an upcoming Commonwealth conference. But other news indicates it may be time to scrap the girl-boy distinction anyway. Prince Harry--always good for a laugh--was captured on camera yesterday stumbling out of a nightclub with the fingers on one hand painted a bright shade of pink and the tops of his pink boxers clearly showing.

We Swoon Over Swan Lake

2009-03-26T23:53:00.004Z

As we prepare to return to regular life, dance practice is top of mind for both Olivia and Meredith who will be performing in recital in just seven weeks. So it was with considerable interest that Olivia, accompanied by Dad, attended a matinee performance of Swan Lake this afternoon at the Coliseum Theater, right off Trafalgar Square. There are actually two performances of Swan Lake being staged in London at the moment, the other being at the Royal Opera by the Royal Ballet. Unfortunately, tickets are sold out at the Opera House. So we went to the other one: a limited engagement performance by the American Ballet. Exactly why this company of international dance stars, most of the principals of which are not American-born, is called the "American" ballet beats me, but it was an inspired performance in a great venue. Olivia, to her Dad's surprise, proved to be already familiar with the plot line and some of the libretto. Apparently, her dance class frequently dances to some of the movements, and she has watched a video of the performance in school or dance class previously. I guess you have to get completely away from home sometimes to find out exactly what your children are doing!

Olivia's Journal: Swan Lake

2009-03-26T23:48:00.006Z

Oliva prepares a blog while sitting on the bean bag. Note the ingenious method of holding the pencil and eraser.

Today I went to the Swan Lake ballet. Here are som tips on dancing Swan Lake.
#1. Get some boys.
#2. Have beutiful sets.
#3. Have an orcistra.
#4. Get good seats.
#5. Do something difrent.
Here are some ways to dance Swan Lake.
--Spin on one foot 80 times without puting your foot down.
--Stand on your toe, put one foot ont he ground and put the other one by your ear.

I loved Swan Lake.

Roll A Seven, Come Up Craps

2009-03-26T23:25:00.005Z

With Scott and Olivia enjoying the rarified atmosphere of the Coliseum Theater, Laura decided to pursue a little culture on her own--at the British Museum, of course. Surely, she reasoned, there is at least one gallery that she failed to visit on one of her six previous trips. Off she went, five-year-old Meredith and three-year-old Cecily in tow. Remarkably, Meredith seemed okay with the idea of yet another trip to this place, but Cecily was a troublemaker from the start. The fact that she didn't have her faithful horse (Dad) to ride around on only made her attitude worse. Mom, ever keen to not give in to the domestic terrorist of the household, doggedly plowed through the exhibit anyway. Cecily made her displeasure known for the duration of the visit but saved her revenge for last: after 81 days of good behavior and three "false-alarm" trips to the bathroom this afternoon with Mom, she finally chose her underpants as the venue for her delivery while walking toward home from the tube station. With that unpleasantness, Laura is suddenly satisfied that at last she has seen enough of the British Museum.

Britain Concerned By Threats of Violence

2009-03-26T23:23:00.001Z

Britain is on a self-described "red alert" in advance of next week's G20 Summit in the London. Protesters have made no secret of their intent to do everything possible to disrupt the meeting of leaders of the world's 20 wealthiest nations called to discuss the global financial crisis. The newspapers and the BBC are full of threats to smash windows, hang bankers from lamposts in effigy (and perhaps in person) and at least one threat to rush the BBC broadcasting tower and shut it down as a "save the environment" statement. An additional 3000 riot police have been hired to keep the place safe, and bank staff were warned to wear chinos and loafers to work next week in order to not become targets. Over the weekend, the home of the former head of the Royal Bank of Scotland, who made billions in losses and then walked away with a fat pension, was vandalized by a mob who threw rocks threw the windows and damaged a Mercedes in the driveway. The banker, who is currently in South Africa with this family, is said to be strongly considering staying there permanently. We're very glad to be leaving on Monday, two days before all this chaos is supposed to start, but we can't help but reflect on the irony that this is the same Britain which frowned on the colonial mobs that attacked tax collectors and the homes of English governors in the Massachusetts and Virginia not quite 250 years ago. What goes around comes around, perhaps.

A Day Out and About

2009-03-25T21:43:00.007Z

As our time here comes to a close, we have chosen to spend our last week wrapping up loose ends--revisiting places we love to get a final look or a more in-depth experience, shopping, packing and experiencing this city we have so enjoyed. Today we did a little of both. This morning we revisited St. Bartholomew The Great, a medieval church dating back to the Twelth Century. Laura was so captivate by the space that she arranged a special tour, and special it was since we got to see not only the splendid church interior but also the crypt and one of the medieval burial chambers beneath the church floor. We also had a chance to talk with Father Mark, one of the priests at the church. For the girls, it was just another church, but they considered it worth the price to get to the afternoon's activity: a visit to Kristin's house to play with Owain, Rhys and Gwyneth while Mom and Dad headed downtown. While the girls played, Scott and Laura had an "adult" afternoon in the basement of Fortnum and Mason, the downtown grocery that supplies, among others, the households of the Queen and the Prince of Wales. We sampled really excellent wines, enjoyed each other's company and had a visit with the friendly wait staff before setting off to do a little shopping. It was a wonderful way to spend an afternoon, and certainly the girls far preferred the pizza at Kristin's to the cheese, bread and olive plate on which their parents dined! Oh yeah, and that packing thing? There's always tomorrow.

Olivia's Reading Pile

2009-03-25T07:48:00.005Z

Olivia has been "turned on" by books since we arrived here. She's shown here with the stack she has plowed through in just the last few weeks. She is enjoying something called the Rainbow Magic series by Daisy Meadows, billed as the number one book for girls in the U.K. She reads them like romance novels at the rate of two or three a day. Fortunately, there are 66 with more being written. Mom and Dad buy them (fortunately, they are 3 for 2) because all this reading is proving a definite plus as her reading level is growing by leaps and bounds that all the reading packets in the world weren't getting us. I hope the library at home has this series or we're going to go broke buying books. (But there are worse things.)

What We're Reading

2009-03-25T07:46:00.000Z

Olivia isn't the only one finding time to read while we're here. Here' the rest of the reading list for us at various stages of completion:

The History of Britain, Vol. I by Simon Schama (Laura and Scott)
The History of Britain, Vol. II by Simon Schama (Laura)
The History of Britain, Vol. III by Simon Schama (Laura)
Mansfield Park by Jane Austen (Laura)
Wine and Spirits: Looking Behind the Label, publ. by WSET (Laura)
George III: America's Last King by Jeremy Black (Scott)
Oliver Cromwell by John Morrill (Scott)
The Identity of Anglicanism: Essentials of Anglican Ecclesiology by Paul Avis (Scott)
Twenty Years After (Vingt Ans Après) by Alexandre Dumas (Scott)
Stuart Little by E.B. White (Olivia)
Charlotte's Web by E.B. White (Olivia)
The Enormous Crocodile by Roald Dahl (Olivia)

Fairy Tales by Hans Christian Andersen , (Olivia)

Eine, Svein, Drei Wonderful Days

2009-03-24T11:54:00.006Z

We flew to Berlin on Saturday morning to visit our former exchange student Leo and his family. Although Laura and Scott had both been to Germany before, neither had been to Berlin, a place its own mayor labels "poor but sexy." To be honest, we didn't see much evidence of poverty. What we did see was a lot that waqs fun, interesting and wonderful. In many ways, there is really no other European city quite like Berlin. As a result of division by the Berlin Wall until 1989, the city has a different feel than your standard city operating with a central business district and tourist hub. Berlin has two town centers, one in the west and one in the east, and each is wonderful in its own right. Berlin also has an efficient transportation system and some of the better roads we have seen in Europe. Facilities are modern, the food is excellent, and the people are friendly and engaging and apt to speak to you--which came as a bit of a shock after three months of dealing with the icy reserve of Londoners. The weather was atrocious (cold and rainy) but no worse than we endured in January in London or winter at home. Leo's family went above and beyond to show us hospitality, and even more than seeing the sights (including the remains of the former Berlin Wall above). The girls loved playing in the bedroom of his 7-year-old sister with all her toys. We hardly slept at all, but no one seemed to mind, and the girls came home delighted and behaving delightfully.

Spotlight's On Wally At the Circus

2009-03-24T11:52:00.006Z

Leo's parents rented a giant SUV (by European standards) for our visit. All nine of us managed to cram in three to a row, including luggage and car seats. The parking of the thing was a challenge lin and of itself! After a quick visit to their spacious flat downtown where we had a quick classic German lunch of "doner kebabs" (a sort of panini with sliced meat and roasted veggies) we went to the circus at Wally's school. We really didn't know what to expect, but whatever it is was, we were blown away as we watched schoolkids produce a full-fledged circus performance, featuring costumed clowns, acrobats, magicians, stunts and even animal acts. Each act was performed by students, ranging in age from 6-11 all of whom, including Wally (who walked on broken glass barefoot and handled a large snake) learned their roles in just three days. No child was left out. Even a couple with severe physical handicaps had roles. And they good! The pride they felt at the enthuistic oohs, aahs and applause that greeted them was obvious to everyone. The entire school was involved, and it is hard to imagine an activity that could do more to build self esteem. Liability concerns probably limit the ability to translate the project to American shores, but we are the poorer for not having it. There is nothing like the spotlight shining on center ring to make a child's eyes glow.

We Learn A Bit About Berlin

2009-03-24T11:50:00.005Z

Leo with his grandparents, the Berliner Dom in the background; Leo with pizza-making girls; Cousin Julian helps Meredith; Cecily, Meredith and Wally as chefs in the restaurant kitchen.

Saturday morning, we met the whole family--including grandma and grandpa and aunt and cousin--at a local restaurant in the shadow of the magnificently baroque Berlin Dom, (city church) for a buffet breakfast. Scott's eye's nearly fell out of his head at the site of piles of sliced processed meat and cheese options, and the girls made quick work of the German pancakes. After visiting a bit, Meredith and Cecily were invited back to the kitchen to make pizza--chefs' hats, aprons and all. (Olivia, unfortunately, missed out after she got sick and had to return to the hotel for a brief rest.) Once our leisurely brunch broke up, we visited the Old Gallery where we saw a wide representation of German artists, most of whom are not on display in London museums. (Imagine London not having an affinity for German art!) It was unfortunate that we only had time for one museum because Berlin has many, which are conveniently grouped on a single island in the the city. We could have spent days there. Only the girls were glad we didn't have more time. After our art tour, Laura and Olivia rejoined us, and we headed for the remains of the Berlin Wall and the site of the memorial currently under construction. We enjoyed climbing a viewing tower which used to look over the wall to allow West Germans to waive at their friends and family on the other side. We also enjoyed talking to Cordula and Rene about their personal recollections about the time of the wall, which were doubly fascinating since the two of them were raised on opposite sides of the wall. Rene's story follows.

A Personal Story of a Day That Changed The World

2009-03-24T11:48:00.003Z

Rene had an interesting personal story about the fall of the wall. He said that on the night it was torn down in 1989, he was leading a meeting in East Germany about school restructuring. At 10 a.m., his audience unexpectedly rose spontaneously and left the room, leaving him mystified, but what could he do. He closed his meeting, and went home. At 4 a.m., there was a loud knocking on the door of his apartment. He rose to find at his doorstep to his astonishment a friend who had previously fled over the wall to Hungary. The friend told him that the wall was down, and he must come and see for himself. On arrival at the site of the breached wall, Rene found a lonely East German major "guarding" the breach. He inquired, "If we cross, can we return?" The major wouldn't answer, even when the question was repeated several times. Finally, with a sweep of his hand and a shrug, he simply waived the gathered East Germans through.Thus it was that one small party of East Germans found themselves standing in the other half of their city for the first time in 40 years, not sure where to go and not sure what to do next. It was a uniquely personal glimpse of the exhileration of a people on a momentous night in the history not just of Germany but of the world.

A Little Night Music

2009-03-24T11:46:00.005Z

Our Sunday morning and afternoon were wonderful, but Cordula and Rene had more in store for us. While the girls headed for the flat to play with Wally's toys, Laura and Scott returned to the hotel and got dressed. The four adults then headed for the Berlin Philharmonic--one of the greatest orchestras in the world. The program was Joseph Haydn's opera, Orlando Paladino, which was performed with orchestra and voices, but not a stage or props. It goes without saying that the music was unworldly in its quality, especially the soprano aria, "Non partir, mia bella face." Even those seated in the rafters must have enjoyed it, but we did considerably better than that. Our seats were amazing. Seated in a front-row box just above the orchestra, we could see and experience everything, including the teleprompters that simultaneously translated the opera from Italian to German. Fortunately, since neither Scott nor Laura speak German, the Philharmonic also provided a printed copy of the libretto in Italian which Laura could read and Scott could follow since Italian is close to his languages of Spanish and French. After the rousing final chorus, "Se volete esser felici" we adjourned to a nearby vinoteca (wine bar) where we enjoyed delicious Greek food, Italian wine , German beer and good conversation that kept us out until after midnight. Astonishingly, when we came home, the girls were still wide awake and happily playing.

The Zoo And The Rest

2009-03-24T11:44:00.003Z

Despite our late night, the girls were raring to go Monday morning. We bestirred ourselves early, enjoyed delicious German pastries at a shop near the hotel and headed for the bombed out remains of the Church of the Remembrance, now a ruin of a once-glorious church in the fashionable Kurfursterdamm, built by Kaiser Wilhelm I to glorify his family, dynasty and reign. Only a small portion of the building covered with with rich mosaic tiled remains as a memorial to the victims of war and a warning to the dangers of overweening dictatorship. After sightseeing on our own, our hosts picked us up for a visit to Berlin's world-famous zoo--a well run, attractive and spacious place which contrasts sharply with the run-down London Zoo at Regent's Park. The girls squealed with delight at each new discovery, including the newborn elephant and the playful apes and monkeys. When we could stand the wet and cold no more, we adjourned to lunch at KaDeWe--a department store like London's Harrod's but without snooty attitude and excessive people. Laura enjoyed perusing the German wine section, while Scott's quickly nosed out the amazing cheese counter neearby. Afterwards it was back to the flat for more conversation and a late farewell dinner before the family dropped us at our airport hotel , where we caught a few winks before catching our early morning trip back to London.

Olivia's Journal: The Berlin Zoo

2009-03-24T11:42:00.003Z

Today we went to Germany to visit Leo who was an exchange student for a year. We went to the zoo, and it was raining, so there weren't many people. First, we saw a mommy elaphant with her baby only a week and a day old. Yet, he was as big as Meredith. Then we went to the place where monkeys are. My favorite was the oranatangs. [One] played with a big and kept it with him the whole time. Once he pulled the hair of a huge monkey. There was anather monkey at feeding time that got all the apples and two carrots and hit the one in the corner [to show] him what he had and ran off. Then we saw the seals. One jumped up and saw saw me for a second and jumped down. Then we saw penguins wich are my Aunt Linda's favorite animal. Then we saw the Brown Bear with white wolves. Two of them fau[gh]t [until] the zookeeper threw an apple at the bear who pushed the other bear into the water. Last we saw the polar bear being fed. He got fed bread and oranges and fish and a couple of things. It was a very fun day.

Some Final Notes

2009-03-24T11:40:00.002Z

Berlin is in some ways the same as the rest of Europe but in other ways different. A few notes: The underground. The underground looks antique but it is cleaner and more efficient than its respective and betterknown counterparts in Paris and London. Although we were riding a main line at rush hour, the crush we are used to in London was nowhere to be seen. Salt. Everything in this country has a lot of salt in it. And there is more salt on the table (as if you would need it.) The worst part about Germany (if there was a bad part) was that we were chronically thirsty, and the more we ate, the more thirsty we were! Languages. Berlin is a crossroads of Europe, and you feel it. At dinner on our last night, we were ordering in German, English and Italian, sometimes all at the same time. Our waiter--an Albanian from Kosovo--switched easily among the three. The girls were thoroughly confused as to what language they were supposed to use but tried valiantly to keep up. Fortunately, everyone was indulgent when a gratcie was substituted for a danke, and we were all amused when Meredith with a big smile sweetly turned to someone holding the door for her and offered up, "Donkey" by way of thanks.

Random Snaps: Berlin

2009-03-24T11:38:00.000Z

Olivia and Wally found a common interest in playing chess against one another while Scott and Leo kibitzed from the side. Leo was our valiant and invaluable translator; Meredith found culinary "true love" in a drink called Orangina, which she has been promised we will buy on return home.

Germany, Here We Come!

2009-03-20T22:37:00.004Z

We are headed to Berlin for a few days, starting Saturday morning. We will not be blogging until we return on Tuesday. Look for more adventures then. Aufedersein!

Shah and Tell At the British Museum (Again)

2009-03-19T21:59:00.007Z

Today, Meredith and Olivia gamely braved a sixth visit to the British Museum to accompany Mom to the Shah 'Abbas exhibit. He was the 17th century (1587-1629) ruler of Iran, who took a poor and threatened (by the Ottoman empire) country and turned it into a formidable Middle Eastern power that expanded its borders, took over control of its own silk trade and built some of the most beautiful and impressive buildings in the Islamic world. We learned that he was a study in contrasts--a pious Muslim who drank wine; a humble man who freely mixed with peasants but who killed his own sons out of fear that one might try to overthrow him (as he overthrew his father); the descendent of an Islamic sufi order who killed many of its leaders for fear they were becoming too powerful. It was interesting to see so many items that have never before been outside of Iran (lamps, carpets, Qurans) and I kept thinking about the fact that such an exhibit probably wouldn't be possible in the United States because of obvious political tensions. That made it all the more ironic that the exhibit curator is an American woman -- Sheila Canby! I wonder what Shah 'Abbas -- or the many wives in his harem -- would have thought about that?

Searching For Meaning At The Geffrye

2009-03-19T21:27:00.003Z

While Laura, Olivia and Meredith visited the Shah Abbas special exhibition at the British Museum today, Scott and Cecily headed in an alternative direction. Our destination was the Geffrye Museum--dedicated to documenting the life of Britain's middle class as displayed in their homes at different periods. Getting there was a saga in and of itself. We saw a hitherto unvisited portion of London, peopled by immigrants, not particularly well signed and needing a good scrubbing. After a little wandering around, including a walk by Shakespeare's parish church, we found the museum. It is in an old almshouse--a place where the poor and elderly were allowed to live. Frankly, it looks like they still do. Like most museums we have visited, admission was free. That's good, because I'm not sure people would pay to see the collection--notwithstanding the glossy brochure which seems to promise much more. Once you are past the disappointing neighborhood and non-descript displays, however, there is a lot be learned. The English identity is very much tied up in their homes and their displays of personal wealth and taste and has been for hundreds of years. It was interesting to see how tastes have evolved and changed--and it was certainly preferable to another day at the British Museum.

No Sounds of Silence Here

2009-03-19T21:25:00.000Z

The most amazing thing happened to me today, Laura reports. A Brit spoke to me spontaneously on the street, and she wasn't even intoxicated! The British are a rather reserved lot. Unless you ask a specific question of someone or are a customer in a store or a restaurant, you won't have much opportunity to actually interact with them. I won't bore you with the particulars of the conversation (it wasn't especially interesting), but the fact of the interaction was definitely noteworthy!

Meredith and Mom Go Wild for Lion King

2009-03-18T22:37:00.001Z

Today was a treat for Meredith and Mom. It was Meredith's first-ever play, and Mom got to see her wonderment and awe at the thrill of it all. We went to see the Lion King at London's Lyceum Theatre. The show is in its tenth year (Olivia saw it in Portland three years ago), and it's very easy to see why it has lasted so long. It is visually stunning, the voices are tremendous and the dancing is awe-inspiring. From the moment the giant elephant and rhinoceros came charging down the aisle next to us with brightly coloured birds circling overhead and the music thundering around us, we knew it was going to be a wonderful show. Meredith could barely contain her joy, as she kept reaching over to squeeze my hand and smile. Twice she forgot to be quiet and exclaimed to me, "Mama, I LOVE this!" I was afraid that parts of the show would scare her and was prepared to watch with her in my lap. But that never happened. She simply loved the show. When it was over, she said she wished she could see the whole thing over again RIGHT NOW. Quite high praise from a little girl with a typical pre-schooler's attention span!

Theatre Manners

2009-03-18T22:36:00.000Z

One of the cultural differences we've noticed here is the protocol for live theatre. The shows are certainly as good as those we have seen in New York, San Francisco, Portland and St. Louis, but the behavior of the audience is quite different. Not only do people eat and drink in the threater, but they do so during the show! Also, forget about polite applause. These folks engage in catcalls and the sort of cheering that we Americans typically only see at high school graduations and football games. Today at The Lion King, the entire audience began clapping in time to the music during a particularly upbeat song. While I'm glad everyone was enjoying it, I was wishing I could hear the fantastic voices! Then, I was amused when the actor who played the villian, Scar, took his curtain call. Although he was fantastic, he was booed! When I saw his giant smile and the smiles of those around me who were participating in the booing, I realized it was actually a compliment. The audience was showing its approval by booing! All this drove hom the point that while they might look like us and we might even speak the same language, I'm definitely still in a foreign country! (Scott's note: I saw something very similiar when we saw Wicked. I couldn't believe that people were allowed into the theater late, forcing everyone else in the their row to stand to let them in and even more incredibly that most people brought to their seats a glass of wine, a drink or a beer into the theater. The thing is, they do all this as if it were still Shakespeare's Day and they were the groundlings and then they have the nerve to say that the Americans are the ones with no manners!)

Part I, Books In London: Libraries

2009-03-18T22:35:00.002Z

At left, the entirety of the children's section at the London Central Library;

At right, the entire library!

With Laura and Meredith off enjoying London theater, Scott, Olivia and Cecily were at loose ends. We decided to make the most of our day by searching out books. To do this, we chose two venues: libraries and bookstores. It turned out to be a fascinating cultural experience. The first library we ventured to was the London Lending Library, which brags that it is the largest collection of books available for loan in the world. It probably lives up to that claim with 15 miles of shelving and over a million volumes in its collection. (It claims that as a matter of policy it never throws a book away, and it has been collecting since 1841.) We expected Boston public library, New York Public Library or something similiar. That wasn't quite right. We didn't get inside the front door. This is a membership library. The cost for an annual membership is $395 (about $530.) Since we chose not to pay the fee, we were helpfully referred to the public library at Leicester Square, identified on a tourist map as "London Central Library." So off we went, only to be further disappointed. The "library" is a single large room with a mezzanine. I doubt it is bigger than our library back home, despite the millions it allegedly serves. The children's "section" was essentially a closet. A cultural capital London may be--but only for those rich enough to take advantage of it. As much as anything, this experience makes me proud to be an American.

Part II, Books In London: Bookstores

2009-03-18T22:35:00.001Z

Our foray to libraries having been an abysmal failure, we moved on to bookstores. We had done our research on the internet and found that both the largest and oldest bookstores in London are located off Piccadilly Circus. So we headed off to Waterstone and to Hatchard, respectively. Readers of this blog know that I've marvelled since we got here that in the country full of history bookstores always seem to be woefully understocked in the history section. Waterstone's did better than most: it had three sections of shelving dedictated to "British History"--the same footage dedicated to the history of transport and slightly less than was dedicated to military history. More interesting was the North American section, a single shelving unit, half of which was dedicated to places like Brazil and Argentina. An entire shelf was dedicated to Che Guevara. And Brits say Americans are challenged by geography! Hatcher's, in business since 1797, is a different story altogether. It has a clubby, wood paneled sort of feel, and an amazing collection. It reminded me of the movie, "84 Charing Cross Road" if you've ever seen it. They have more than 100,000 volumes in stock and ship any book published in the UK anywhere in the world. It unloaded my wallet for me, and will doubtless unload it in the future. As convenient as Amazon is, independent bookstores still have a place in the world.

Olivia's Journal: An Art Critic At The Tate

2009-03-18T22:30:00.004Z

Today, I went to the Tate Britain. I have five paintings that I liked. Room three--"A Lady of the Spencer Family." by Anthony Van Dyke. Anthany Van Dyke was known for his cloth. He could do amasing cloth. My favorite peice of it was the dress. It had such a brilyant blue, and I love the light coming down on the silk. I also like the pearles. There a brilyant touch. The brilyant blue just litans up the dress. That's the first thing we saw that was my favorite. Next we went to room foar. I found two paintings that I liked. "Old Horse Guards" by Canaletto. Canaletto was most famous view-painter of his day. Wealthy English tourissts who visited Italy colected them. He deceided to visit London in 1746. He remained for the best part of ten years. It was painted in summer 1749 just before the building of the old horse guards (the low brick building in the center) wasvdemolished and replaced by new horse guards which still stands today. My favorite thing about it is you can see people on the left beeting a rug. Room four, "The Strode Family" by William Hogarth. What I like about it is that it has a really dark bacground but when you look at the clothes the picture brightans up. On the dress you can see how good the painter can paint the clothes but I think that Anthany Van Dyke does it better. I like the kind of dog the dogs are. I also like the red and blue. Next we went to room seven. We saw a painting of horses and foals. by George Stubbs. This is one out of at least ten that George Stubbs painted of mares and foals in 1760s. My favorite part was the ponys because I'm horse crazy. The history is a great history. The guide tald us an interesting story. Mr. Stubbs had an interesting story. If his neighbor's horse deid he would come over, get the dead horse and put it over he shoulder and bring it home carrying it on his shoulder.. (He would), cut it up to see how it's bones worked and paint the picture. Last we went to room 15 were we saw a picture called the "Britash Channle seen from the Dorsetshire Cliffs" by John Brett. This view is proble from the cliffs above Lulworth Cove in Dorsetshire. My favorite thing about it is the way the clouds look real and how he can make it look liek the sun was coming down on the water. If you look closely at the water you can see the water is made out of dots. I like the way it looks reel. My favorite piece was the John Brett one. [Editor's note: Olivia's post is original work, although she had the benefit of notes on each piece taken from the Tate website. The editor has added punctuation as necessary. The spelling is Olivia's.]

Learning About Fine Art At The Tate Britain

2009-03-17T21:26:00.010Z

Today was about British art as we visited the Tate Britain art museum. Apparently, Olivia at least was confused as to our destination. The first thing Olivia she asked was whether there would be any paintings of fuzzy water lillies. Once we explained, again, that this is a British art museum, we were back on track. That said, as is the British way, they pretty much claim anything they want as their own, regardless of pedigree. We haven't yet figured out how American-born Benjamin West, JM Whistler and John Singer Sargent qualify as British but this doesn't seem to bother anybody and their works are proudly displayed. At least these Americans are from a former British colony. It is a bit more complicated to justify the exhibition of Polish art, which perhaps is why it is stuck off in a corner. At any rate, I digress. As always, the 8-year-old seemed curiously enthralled. She quickly picked her favorite paintings, memorizing their titles and artists. (Watch for a future post of her impressions.) And she has a good eye. When we took a formal tour in the late afternoon, we found ourselves returning to works which Olivia had already picked out as favorites! Even more impressive were 5-year-old Meredith and 3-year-old Cecily who correctly identified portraits of English monarchs without any prompting or context whatsoever. In Cecily's case, we walked into the very first room called the Tudor Gallery, and she asked (from her shoulder trhone), "Why is Henry da Eight giving that boy money?" The kids weren't the only ones learning things. One of the more interesting points of discussion along the way was provoked by a guide who told us that people seem to be either Reynolds or Gainsborough afficianados but not both. When we polled to see who fell into which camp, Laura and Scott were surprised to find themselves on opposite sides, with Laura favoring the campy Gainsboroughs (example at left above) while Scott preferred the more staid Reynolds paintings (example at right above). So vote, oh friends and family: which camp are you in?

The St. Pat's Day That Wasn't

2009-03-17T21:17:00.005Z

OK, we told you earlier about the ambivalence which the English seemed to be approaching St. Patrick's Day--a day so significant in the American calendar that children have school parties to celebrate, everybody wears green to mark it, New York shuts down for it and the President of the United States makes a point of visiting with Irish leaders. Not so here in England, despite the fact that the English have sought to be overlords of Ireland since the days of Edward I and a good part of Ireland remains in British hands. There was no green here today. The front page of the BBC website doesn't even mention the holiday. There are no Irish-themed sales going on, and the newspapers are full of news about a criminal in Austria and a movie star involved in a skiing accident. Even the pubs don't play up the holiday. While the African-American President of the United States wears green ties, dies the fountains at the White House and drops hints that his mother was of Irish extraction, for Brits, March 17 is just another work day. Weird indeed.

Victoria and Albert: Third Time's a Charm

2009-03-16T21:04:00.008Z

Today is the third time on this trip that we have been back either as a group or individually to the Victoria and Albert Museum, and still we didn't finish it. Perhaps that should come as no surprise. After all, the place has 9 MILES of corridors, 4.5 MILLION objects and covers 5,000 YEARS of history (give or take a century or two). All we can report at this point in our venture is that we gave it a valiant try. Unlike our previous two trips, we did take the guided tour this time. That was valuable and educational in and of itself, but a highlight was when the guide invited the girls to touch a genuine Chinese Ming Vase around 550 years old. We couldn't believe it, but tactile experiences are one of the hallmarks of the V&A. We discovered this again when Laura, Olivia and Meredith visited a special exhibition on the history of hats where they greatly enjoyed trying them on for size. Unfortunately, pictures were not allowed, but the girls returned determined to find Easter bonnets that would do the museum proud.

Meredith Tackles The Tough Stuff

2009-03-16T21:03:00.001Z

You have to hand it to 5-year-old Meredith: Once she makes her mind to do something, she will not be deterred until its done. Thus, although Scott was surprised this morning when she announced that she was ready to write her name in cursive, he had no doubt she could do it. And she did. The writing on the top is Dad's (minus the hearts, which Meredith added later.) The bottom signature is Meredith's free-hand copy. Pretty good, for somebody who hasn't started kindergarten yet!

She Likes Me, She Really Likes Me!

2009-03-16T21:02:00.003Z

Cecily and the Newspapers

2009-03-16T21:01:00.000Z

This blog would not be complete without mentioning Cecily's obsession with the free newspapers handed out at no charge in London in front of the tube stops each evening. She collects them--all of them--each night and carries them home. Then she sits on the floor or on her bed and "reads" them, often after she was told to go to sleep. If she spots one left behind on the train, she won't be satisfied until she had captured it, opened it and "read" it. Her collection techniques are worth noting, too. Undeterred from her great height on Dad's shoulders, she somehow manages to get the attention of all the vendors, transfer the papers she has already picked up to the opposite hand and grab another one without Dad ever breaking stride. And once she's got them, she's plenty careful to keep them tucked up and out of Dad's face, since she knows the penalty for that is a quick trip to the trash can. It's really a remarkable to see. Perhaps all those journalism degrees in the family have somehow rubbed off on our youngest child. Any newspaper publishers out there want to scholarship your next circulation manager to college?

We Loved St. Barts

2009-03-15T19:14:00.006Z

We loved the church of St. Barthomew The Great. Laura commented as we left, "It's a good thing we didn't go here on the first Sunday or we would never have seen anything else." St. Bartholomew boasts the oldest medieval interior of any church in London. It was founded in 1123 as a much larger building. The current church is the remnant that survived demolition in Henry VIII's dissolution of the monasteries in 1543. It also survived the puritans, and miraculously, it escaped being bombed in World War II. So when you walk in, through the narrow little Tudor-era gate, you know and feel that you are somewhere very, very old. The service itself is "high church"--probably more so than anything we've seen since coming to London. The choir chants, the incense censor is liberally used, the vestments are rich and candlesticks are aplenty. There is even an Angelus (Hail Mary ritual) at the end of the service. Notwithstanding all these trappings, the sermon given by the rector was wry, funny, contemporary and thought-provoking. St. Barts is not on the beaten track for tourists, and we nearly missed it, but it is definitely not to be missed, and if you can can make it for a service, so much the better.

Renewing Acquaintances With Old Friends

2009-03-15T19:13:00.001Z

After attending St. Bartholomew's we made our way back to the tube station where we met a friend of Scott's and his lovely fiance and their newborn. This young couple are both bankers in a town which is decidedly anti-banker at the moment, but they are as delightful a couple as you could want to meet--if somewhat tired as new parents tend to be. We enjoyed catching up, it having been 12 years since our young friend borrowed a room at Scott 's when he visited our northwest town with the youth group Up With People. We also enjoyed discussing the state of the world as viewed from two sides of The Pond and learning of their plans to be married in May. The girls, especially Olivia and Cecily, loved playing with the 2-month-old and all three positively preened at the chance to show off their newly green-painted nail polish (in time for St. Patrick's day) and their Sunday dresses. The newborn's Mum was a font of information about the British view of the world and made us laugh at her incredulity upon finding out that Americans actually go shopping on Saturday nights--something unheard of here where the shops close early on weekend nights. We wish them both well on their upcoming nuptials, and we hope to see them on the West Coast again soon.

Little Girls Wear Us Out At The National Gallery

2009-03-15T19:12:00.001Z

Our afternoon plan was to visit the National Gallery--that enormous place housing the greatest holding of British art. Our lunch and the company, however, we so good, that we had precious little time left, so we breezed through centuries of art in about an hour. You haven't really experienced art, however, until you've been with the Cooper girls. For every picture, they are sure there is a story, and they want to know what it is. They literally wear their parents out, physically and mentally with their demands for information. One finds oneself in a theological quagmire explaining things like the presence of angels in passion painting, the slaughter of the innocents and various scenes--often gruesome--from the entire Old Testament. And that doesn't take into account historical paintings, the dynastic connections of various Europeans monarchs, the meaning of certain landscapes and the story behind allegories and myths, all of which must have an explanation. Don't try to fudge, either. They're smart enough to spot a fake. We managed about six rooms before, thankfully, the museum closed.

The English Celebrate St. Patrick's--Kind of, Sort of

2009-03-15T19:11:00.002Z

Today there is a big celebration of St. Patrick's Day going on in Trafalgar Square. We got a brief glimpse of it as we exitted the National Gallery, which overlooks the square. Green and orange, hats, clothes and flags, Celtic music, Celtic dancing, beer, beer, beer, and trash, trash, trash are my overwhelming first impressions. The English have a weird relationship with this holiday. In truth, we haven't quite worked it out. On the one hand, any excuse for a party is welcomed, and there were plenty of people celebrating downtown. But there is, nonetheless, a hesitancy when you ask people about St. Patrick's Day. At best, they are apt to vaguely reply, "Well, it's important to the Irish." Inherent in that statement is a suggestion that the holiday is not only important to the English, they're about half convinced that something about it is downright offensive. Thus, you have the headline of today's Sunday Express Newspaper focusing not on the historical linkages between these these two island nations seperated by a sea but rather on the fact that security is being increased around the Princes William and Harry out of fear that they may be targets for IRA extremists. Given that neither Laura's nor Scott's heritage is Irish, we're really not sure how to celebrate on Tuesday. We'll probably have to settle for (Danish) beer in a green bottle and (American) Pringles in a green can and call it good.

A Good Day For Business

2009-03-14T23:49:00.002Z

Despite the gorgeous spring weather, there comes a point when you have to put aside pleasure for business. Today was that day. The business at hand consisted of running errands, doing homework and for Cecily, a long overdue midday nap. Despite our lack of any significant progress on the cultural front, the day was not a total waste: Olivia finished the last of her three month's of homework assignments, guaranteeing she will get a spring break with the rest of her class at the end of the month. And Daddy and Cecily watched part of the Six Nation's Rugby Tournament (Ireland v. Scotland), which Cecily found very interesting. That's not surprising since Cecily is the one most likely to play rugby of any of our girls.

Apsley and Two Arches

2009-03-13T20:33:00.009Z

Apsley House; The Wellington Arch; A replica of the head of the charioteer atop the Wellington arch gives an idea of the scale; the Marble Arch in the background was commissioned as the entrance to Buckingham Palace but had to be moved because the grandest carriages wouldn't fit.

We spent the day with the Duke of Wellington--the one who beat Napoleon as well as his descendant, the current 8th duke. Our destination was one of London's most prestigious addresses, Apsley House, which was built by the general known as the Iron Duke who was the toast of Europe and the prime minister of England 200 years ago. The house today is half residence for the current ducal family and half public museum. It is notable both for its Wellington memorabilia as well as for its fantastic art collection, much of which was once part of the royal Spanish art collection until Napoleon's brother stole it. Wellington recaputured it and offered to return it to the Spanish king, but he was so grateful to get his throne back that he gave the amazing collection to the general that saved his kingdom. After touring the mansion, we took a look at the massive Wellington Arch outside, with its enormous bronzes on the top and then we strolled up Hyde Park to examine its companion, Marble Arch, located at the opposite end of the park. Along the way, we discussed important English things like the game of cricket (Why would anyone play a game that sometimes last multiple days and results in no score, we wondered?) and the importance of "being seen" in the past in a daily horse or carriage ride through Hyde Park. It was a delightful way to spend a spring afternoon.

Pin Up Boy Or Emperor?

2009-03-13T20:32:00.000Z

Napoleon commissioned this statue from the famous sculptor Canova but had second thoughts about appearing in the nude after he saw it. It was crated and stored in the Louvre. After Wellington defeated Napoleon, he acquired it and installed it in the atrium of his grand house. It may seem like an effort at humiliating one's vanquished foe but it was actually a compliment.

Taking Part In British Culture

2009-03-13T20:31:00.001Z

Our educational requirements out of the way for the day, we decided to treat ourselves to a McDonald's lunch and shopping on Oxford Street. Cultural purists will be appalled that we still occasionally sneak out to McD's here in the U.K. After all, how does that further the cultural experience. In truth, we aren't exactly lonely at McD's. The Brits like it every bit as much as the Americans, so its hardly an American institution. Secondly, the ability of our tastebuds to endure a foreign cuisine only stretches so far. Eventually, even we need a taste of home. Once we were done with our Happy Meals and Big Macs, we headed up Oxford Street to a more culturally appropriate experience: shopping at Primark, a landmark London retailer (though open for less than 2 years) for the price-conscious shoppers. I would estimate that there were no fewer than 2000 shoppers in the store this particular Friday afternoon. The picture above was taken on another day but it gives you the idea of what it's like. Literally, the janitor was sweeping discarded hangars into a pile. A good half the shoppers spoke some other language than English, which is not at all unusual in any major retail store here. I would guess that a good 40 registers were checking people out. We picked up a few bits and pieces for the wardrobe, but mostly we marvelled at the emphasis placed in this city on remaining current with fashion, the low prices which make that possible and the fact that despite the severity of the current economic downtown, people haven't lost their appetite for consumption--they've just relocated to places like Primark.

British Go Mad For Michael Jackson

2009-03-13T20:30:00.000Z

Explain, please, to these Americans the appeal of a certifiably weird, 50-year-old pop star with a questionable past who hasn't put out a popular album since 2001. I'm talking about Michael Jackson, who today sold out a "final" series of 50 concerts--more than 1 million tickets--in London in less than 5 hours. The enormous O2 Arena says that thanks to the sales, it can now weather the recession for at least two more years. Fans who have been lining up since Wednesday to get a place in line to assure themselves of tickets are beside themselves. And all of this is in spite of the fact that when MJ came to London a couple of weeks ago (see picture at left) to announce his return to the stage, he kept his loyal fans and the press waiting for some 5 hours before he showed up to make a 4-minute, incoherent appearance. There appear to be no limits to the ability of some people to fall under the spell of a celebrity--even one like Jackson who despite his undeniable talent early in his career has become somewhat of a standing joke for any wanna-be stand up comic. I don't think we are alone in marvelling at the oddity of it all. The London papers seem to be taking a similiarly incredulous view of the situation. On the good side, the amazing ticket sales more than guarantee that Jackson should be able to wipe out his $50 million worth of debts.

Olivia's Journal: How To Be A Good Queen

2009-03-13T00:34:00.006Z

I wached a movie called Yong Victoria which inspired me to write about being a good queen.

#1. Don't have a husband unless you want one.

#2. Only get a husband you like!

#3. Get ladys that are Conservatives and Labour.

#4. Always do whats good for the country.

#5. Be nice to the people that work for you.

#6. Don't spend lots of money.

#7. Don't tax people for alot of money.

#8. Don't get in a fight with Parlement.

#9. Take care of poor people.

#10. Die for your country.

These are some of the tips about how to be a good queen. I will be good.

Reluctantly Worth The Money

2009-03-12T23:04:00.012Z

Laura has been vociferously opposed to paying f12 (about $17) per person to visit Westminster Abbey. It's not that one of the top tourist attractions in England isn't worth the money. It's the principle of the thing. Scott has tried to point out to Laura that she would pay that much money to see less interesting museums in London, but Laura has retorted that most of them are, in fact, FREE. Nonetheless, Scott knows my weak points and when he suggested that our principles shouldn't stand in the way of Olivia's education, I gave in. So it was that Laura and Olivia finally saw the Abbey today. The building is imposing and beautiful and full of history. Although I visited it once 10 years ago, I enjoyed it so much more now as I have spent the last 2 months studying British history. This time I was able to enjoy the irony of seeing Mary I buried in the same chapel with Elizabeth I (photo of their shared tomb at left.). I also enjoyed seeing the shrine to King Edward the Confessor, which is normally off limits due to its fragile condition. We happened to be in the right place at the right time and joined a priest and a couple of nuns in saying prayers at the chapel where it is contained. Otherwise, there is no way we would have seen this ancient and important monument, the housing of which is the reason Henry III built the church in the first place. The Abbey is, of course, renowned not just as the burial place of many English monarchs. It is also the site of royal coronations since William the Conqueror in 1066, and it contains the graves of some of Great Britain's most accomplished men and women. Sir Isaac Newton is buried here, as is Geoffrey Chaucer (originally earning burial at the Abbey because of his official positions with the king, but moving up to a fancy tomb 150 years later when he became known as a famous poet) George Friederic Handel, Charles Dickens, Edward Montagu (the first Earl of Sandwich, whose descendent is sometimes credited with inventing the sandwich because he was too lazy to leave the gaming table to eat) and Oliver Cromwell. Despite its beauty and imposing size, Westminster Abbey does not strike me as the most beautiful church in England (I think that honor goes to Lincoln Cathedral). Nor is it the most imposing (St. Paul's) or inspiring (to me, that is Temple Church though there are certainly other candidates). But nothing can top it when it comes to historical significance. I am willing to concede: it was well worth the f12.

Laura: The Secret To British Soccer: Keep It Simple

2009-03-12T22:04:00.013Z

Last night was a wonderful cultural experience. We learned that while we might have a lot in common with our British cousins, we sure celebrate our sports differently. First off, we Americans expect a good dose of high tech with our sporting events, as evidenced by our jumbotrons and our numerous fancy scoreboards with an abundance of pictures and statistics. The British place no premium on technology during their games. The electronic displays began and ended with one very small scoreboard and a bizarre lighted advertising band that surrounded the field and flashed continuously through the entire game at the shoulder level of the players. I sincerely hope none of the players are epileptic! When a player was substituted, the only way you could know what was going on was to either either listen very closely to the mumbling announcer or else to glimpse the man on the sidelines briefly holding up a small board that resembles a Lite-Brite on which he shows the number of the player coming out and the number of the player replacing him. As Americans, we expect a sporting event to come with light shows, organ music, dancers, a half-time show and cheerleaders. Fulham had none of these. AS for the mascot, his repertoire consisted of jumping up and down while clapping and occasionally turning a crooked cartwheel that would embarrass a 10-year-old. You might be tempted to simply believe that the English are more dedicated to the sport and less to the entertainment, but that would be wrong. From what we could tell, the dedicated fans are far more interested in what the opposition's fans are doing than what their own team is accomplishing on the field. The group of seven devoted Fulham fans sitting in front of us missed several key plays because they were engaging in tit-for-tat shouting and fist-pumping with fans of the other team. (I missed the plays, too, because I was observing these young men, so I don't say this in a judgmental way.) Interestingly, the home team manages to keep the visiting team's fans segregated in one corner of the stadium. We learned this practice started in the 1970s to minimize violence among opposing fans. This brings me to one of the biggest surprises of this game -- security. I am sure that the security at American games is just as good as at this event. But it sure isn't as visible. And it is certainly not located in the same place. Security at this game, in the form of beefy gentlemen wearing brightly colored jackets, was concentrated behind the south goal -- the exact location of all the Blackburn Rover fans. While the security guards in the rest of the stadium were perhaps 20 feet apart, the gentlemen here were shoulder to shoulder. We asked someone about this and learned that it isn't unusual for visiting fans to try to reach the field or hometeam fans. We were very glad we were seated in the Fulham section as we cheered for the home team. While I enjoyed the game and was impressed with the athletic ability of these men who could run almost non-stop for 90 minutes, I'll keep my jumbotrons, light shows and mascots who could defeat the British Olympic gymnastics team on the floor exercises!

Retail Royalty at the Football Game

2009-03-12T22:03:00.000Z

Since the Fulham-Blackburn match we attended, we have learned quite a bit more about the history of the the Fulham team. Apparently, the team has been on the fringe of the elite for quite some time. Many attribute this to the unwillingness of past owners to spend money on players. Egyptian millionaire Mohammed al Fayed (famous for being the father of Princess Diana's boyfriend at the time of her death) bought the team in 1997 and it has improved since then. As a big fan of Harrod's (which al Fayed owns), I was thrilled at halftime when I heard the mumbling stadium announcer state that al Fayed was on the field to accept some award. Although I have no idea what the award was, and I was too far away to see him clearly (my telephoto lens only works when my hand isn't shaking, and it was chilly enough that I couldn't hold the camera steady), it was still exciting to look down and known I was in the vicinity of one of the world's greatest retail demi-gods. It was kind of like a celebrity siting for a retail junkie.

Quotes of the Day: What We Eat

2009-03-12T10:26:00.004Z

Meredith asked me yesterday, "Dad, are pigs almost extinct?" It seemed like a strange question. "No. Why?" I asked. " 'Cause remember yesterday when we saw all those pigs?" she replied. Apparently, the sight of rack of pig carcasses hanging in a meatlocker at Smithfield Markets had the appearance to Meredith of the equivalent of all the pigs in the world, causing her to worry about the fate of pigs generally. Fortunately, this concern didn't prevent her from eating her breakfast with gusto yesterday morning!

One of the differences between British and American professional sports is that you can take food (not drinks) into the stands in Britain. This provides an excellent form of distraction for small children. We seized the opportunity and took along some little things, including some mini-cheese rounds. At one point in the football match last night, Cecily very politely held out her hand containing a half-eaten cheese and with exaggerated politeness and a pleading look on her face and said, "Daddy, I tried the pink stuff, and I don't like it." Controlling his laughter, Dad assured her the wax wrapping was not intended for consumption.

Football Follow-Up

2009-03-12T09:02:00.005Z

Laura has some observations of her own she wants to post as follow up to the football match we attended last night but suffice to say that Scott won't be joining the ranks of the sports prognosticators anytime soon. Blackburn, which I wrote off yesterday, defeated Fulham 2-1, as Fulham completely lost steam in the second period. Maybe I should have taken my cue from the ubiquitous betting shops that seem to be on every corner of London. The odds--helpfully published throughout the game yesterday-- were being given at 12-1 for Blackburn to win and 4-1 for Fulham. I can say this: the 90-minute games was action-packed. I have a newfound respect for soccer players as athletes. I don't know how anybody can run, jump, leap, twist, head butt and accurately direct the ball for that extended period without totalling collapsing. Since the team on the field plays offense and defense and there is no stopping at all once the clock starts running, they get a true workout. Olivia was fascinated by their warmups of players on the sidelines, many of which were doing moves very similiar to her ballet class. The fans were predictably rowdy, even with the zero-tolerance plicy for any alcohol in the stands. We got an education from the group of 17- and 18-year-old yobs sitting directly in front of us. Cecily in particular thought that was fun and spent much of the game shouting "Come On, Fulham!" at random moments and waving her hand and fingers as the opposition team, behavior she kept up until she fell asleep standing up.

Tonight, An English Football Match

2009-03-11T17:16:00.000Z

Tonight, we attend a professional football game--a soccer match to those of you stateside. The match was held at Craven Cottage, home of the Fulham Football Club, just down the Thames from our house. (See the picture above.) Fulham is the oldest London "first-class" (think NFL) club, dating to 1879, and it proudly claims that "England have never won the World Cup without the contribution of a Fulham player." The club's fortunes have recently been on the rise under the chairmanship of Mohammed Al Fayed, the owner of Harrods and more famously the would-be father-in-law of Princess Diana before she and his son were killed in the same car accident one tragic evening. The opponent for this evening is the Blackburn Rangers, playing a match that had originally been scheduled for January but had to be re-booked due to, what else, rain. The team has had some management challenges, so a crushing win seems likely for Fulham this evening--which is more to our American tastes in this land where the tie is a perfectly acceptable outcome to a match. Game starts at 8, so we'll be out late. Watch the site for the final score and any late-breakng news about any shocking upsets!

Night Knight

2009-03-11T17:15:00.007Z

We were six today as our young friend Rhys joined us to allow his Mum the freedom to get to a doctor's appointment. At 18 months, he fit right into our brood, probably causing passersby to look askance at our growing family and wonder what we were thinking. For Cecily it was a rare opportunity to be the big sister--a role which she took to like a duck to water. Although we are planning a big night tonight, we still managed to squeeze in one more attraction when we visited The Temple, a Norman church dating to 1185 and nestled in the heart of London's judicial center, the Inns of Court. For medieval feel, this place can't be beaten, especially with the effigies of Norman-era knights laying in the middle of the floor. We had a good laugh as Rhys, who had never been to such a place, toddled up to the first effigy and regarded it soberly from behind the protective railing for just a moment before announcing: Night, Night. While it was fun, nobody was quite as interested in the minutiae of the place as Laura , so Scott and kids retreated to the courtyard of the Temple, where we changed Owen's diaper and the kids played tag amidst the collared and bewigged counsels and justices and earnest groups of tourists coming to and fr0 from the courtrooms that surround the area. It certainly added a light touch to the otherwise somber place.

Random Snaps: The Temple

2009-03-11T17:14:00.000Z

Having arrived 20 minutes early, Meredith listened through the door to the organ concert going on inside. To kill the time, we broke for a snack. Afterwards, the kids played in the shadow of the church, and Cecily enjoyed being the Mom to someone her junior.

St. Patrick's Day Lead Up: Irish Eyes Are Weeping

2009-03-11T07:45:00.004Z

Britain is in uproar as violence has resurfaced in Northern Ireland after a 12-year hiatus. A group calling itself the "Real IRA" assassinated two members of the armed forces on Sunday night and a local police constable on Monday night. There is great concern that the "bad old days" of random violence are on their way back to a country that had to live with that situation and its deadly and tragic consequences for too many decades. Nearly five pages of the Times were devoted to the topic on Monday--coverage welcome only because it provided a break from the daily diet of dismal financial news. Unraised so far is how, or if, this turn of events will affect another uproar in the making: the decision to grant an honorary knighthood to Sen. Ted Kennedy. The bumbling prime minister says the the award will honor the senator's commitment to peace in Northern Ireland but the opposition retorts that the Kennedys have strong historical ties to backing IRA terrorism, and the knighthood is an insult to Britain. Having been announced, the knighthood will go forward, but it does raise an interesting question about how one man's honorific can be horrific to someone in a different position.

We Visit The Soane Museum

2009-03-10T23:38:00.009Z

The Soane Museum is small and crowed, so you have to wait in line to enter. Fortunately, the staff helpfully provide you with umbrellas to keep off the rain! Once inside, no photography is allowed, so the best you get in this post is a picture of the relatively uninteresting exterior ornamented by the lovely ladies waiting to enter.

We visited Sir John Soane's Museum today--a quirky little place consisting of the home and collection of a famous London architect who died in 1837 and left his estate to the nation. Soane was a great architect, no doubt, his most famous commission being the Bank of England, but a passionate teacher. He travelled around the world collecting examples of statues and vases and wall carvings from the ancient world to teach his students how to design architecture in the classical way and to convince his clients that they, too, ought to aim to outdo the monuments of the Romans in their construction. Among the more curious parts of his collecting was a paint chip from Pompeii, which he purloined from the ruins and brought back to England to introduce the color to London. His house and collection are just as he left them, giving a rare and very up close look at some amazing artifacts from a time when artificacts were available to the highest bidder. Perhaps his greatest acquisition was the sarcophogus of Pharaoh Seti I, dating back to 1340 B.C! The little girls didn't get much out of it, but Olivia found a few things fascinating, and Mom and Dad liked it very much, despite the many distractions it poses as one hugs Cecily close to prevent her from touching the many treasures within easy reach in the narrow, crowded hallways.

The Best Laid Plans...

2009-03-10T23:37:00.001Z

Just 'cause thinks aren't going as planned, doesn't mean we don't have fun!

The rest of our day did not go quite so well as the the auspicious beginning. We tried to visit the Temple of Mithras--only to find that it has mysteriously disappeared. We tried to visit the Guildhall--only to find it closed for a special event. We tried to visit Smithfield Marke--only to find that it is open only in the mornings. We tried to find gelato for the girls to make up for tramping them all around Central London and had no luck. Finally, we grabbed the first tube we came to, headed back to Westfield Mall in our own backyard and went to the gelato stand we KNOW is there and open. We then grabbed a bite to eat at Burger King--another standbye and called it a day. We try very hard to plan these things out to maximize our time here but sometimes the city and the many competing demands of the population on its treasures get the best of us.

A Movie Made For A Budding Princess

2009-03-10T23:35:00.000Z

Our afternoon plans having collapsed, we decided the day shouldn't be a total waste--at least not for Olivia, who was well behaved throughout the day, unlike her sisters. So we flipped a coin to see who would stay home with the little ones while the other took Olivia to see the newly released film, The Young Victoria. Laura won the coin toss but decided to stay home and rest her feet, so Scott and Olivia headed off to the movies for an evening showing. Olivia loved the portrayal of a headstrong young queen, determined to have her own way and very much in love with life and with a certain young man. In many ways, she probably saw herself in it, especially considering the imperious airs she developed upon her return home! It didn't hurt that many of the things she has learned here were faithfully replicated in the movie, and she has been many of the places where the movie was filmed. I doubt it would have been as well received stateside, but it was the perfect ending to a day in London.

Oh To Be In England

2009-03-09T20:02:00.002Z

Oh, to be in England
Now that April's there,
And whoever wakes in England
Sees, some morning, unaware,
That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
In England - now!

--Robert Browning

Back On Track To Churches and 'Zeums

2009-03-09T19:16:00.005Z

We made Cecily's biggest fears come true today: we managed to make a combined visit to a church and a 'zeum! Tired from our travels in Italy, we decided to stick around the neighborhood, so we wandered down the Thames Path to Fulham Palace, the country home of the bishops of London until 1977. This site has been continuously occupied by churchmen for 1390 years--incredible when you stop to think about it. The west courtyard is particularly interesting because it is one of the very rare surviving examples of Tudor architecture in England. You walk into the courtyard, and the place just feels old. We enjoyed learning all kinds of stories about the place, including the scandal that followed the stealing of a salt cellar (a valuable kind of dish used for preserving food) during a visit by Elizabeth I and the back and forth of Reformation politics when Bishop Bromley under Bloody Mary imprisoned and tortured people in one of the very rooms in which we were standing. (He got his comeuppance when he himself was imprisoned by Elizabeth.) We were also fascinated to learn that the Bishop of London--the third ranking clergyman in the Church of England behind the archbishops of Canterbury and York--appointed by George III in the immediate aftermath of the American Revolution was actually a Virginian! There's irony for you. Despite the fact that it was another church/museum, the girls seemed to have a good time. The fact that the palace is surrounded by a big park and it was a beautiful spring day helped.

Olivia's Journal: A Visit To Italy

2009-03-09T19:10:00.000Z

Today we are back from Italy. It was very fun. My favorite thing about Italy was spending time with my family in Italy. I have 25 relatives that live in Italy. The most interesting thing to me is that my relatives named Sarah and Alain own a fancy restorant named trattori barbatoni. One night we went there for dinner, and the whole family was there. We stayed there from 8:00 p.m. tell 12:30 a.m. My mom's favorite thing was the winery. My dad's favorite thing was spending time at Daniele's house. We went to the Carnival where you danced and threw confety at each other. I got a mouth full of it. Italy is a very fun and pretty place!

Italian Overview

2009-03-08T22:56:00.014Z

The whole family gathered to greet us on arrival; the bambini table at Saturday night dinner; Anna with sons Ennio and Diego and Ennio's family; Daniele's family; Gaudenzio and Magda; Anna, Liliana and Antonio; Paola and family with Laura; Laura and Paola; The family turns out at the airport to say goodbye--until next time!

As we boarded the airplane to return from Italy today, Cecily asked if we were going home. "Home to London," came the reply. Cecily screwed up her face and began to wail. "Why are you crying," Dad asked? " 'Cause we will have to go to church and another 'zeum!" came the tearful reply. Cecily's attitude pretty much summed up the attitude of her sisters. All three had a wonderful time in Italy and are very ready to go back. As always, the greeting from her Laura's large, extended Italian family was over-the-top, including a big family dinner Saturday night for which La Famiglia Zanino et Famiglia Tapparo rented out the best restaurant in town, which isn't hard to do, since members of the family own it. Besides, since everybody in town is pretty much related there are no patrons left if the family is having a function! Best of all, from the girl's persective, was the abundance of cousins. Although the bambini speak little or no English and our three speak no Italian, this was not an impediment to playing games like chase and tag. The girls even had costumes, made by the relatives, in which to attend the local carnevale with all the other children of the town, where they enjoyed throwing confetti, dancing to music, watching a magician and eating pizza. Best of all, there were no 'zeums for three days (although they had to endure one winery tour), and the sun shone bright every day.

A Little Bit About Orio

2009-03-08T22:55:00.006Z

The breathtaking Italian Alps dominate Orio's skyline.

The town in which we visited is about 30 minutes outside Turin in the northwest of Italy. Orio Canavese has perhaps 750 people and dates from medieval times--which is abundantly apparent from the layout of the streets and appearance of the buildings. The town is populated by people named Ponsetti, Tapparo and Zanino, all of whom are somehow related to each other. For the most part, none of them know HOW they are related, but they can tell you if you ask which of the various branches are NOT related, even though they bear the same surname. Laura's grandmother immigrated from this small town at the turn of the 20th century, leaving behind a large clan of siblings and cousins. Apparently, the families on opposite sides of the Atlantic lost touch during the Second World War, and it was not until Laura tracked them down again in 1992 that they were reconnected. She has since been back five times and is quite welcomed by all the family as the American, especially since she learned Italian so that she would be better able to speak to them. This time, however, she gained new stature because she is The American WITH CHILDREN! One of the things we have been trying to do since Laura first met the family is track the family history, which was largely lost when the connection was severed in the middle of the last century. Each visit, we add a few more branches. Thus we were all the more amazed and delighted on Sunday when we had lunch with a cousin whose house we had not previously visited to find a complete, printed family tree hanging on the wall! It was, admittedly, the tree of the cousin's wife, but as I pointed out, since everyone is related, it eventually branched into Laura's line as well. Unfortunately, we only discovered this treasure as we were leaving, but big plans were made for exchanging email and for a future visit to go together to the records of the parish church and finish the job!

Checking In On The Best B&B In Orio

2009-03-08T22:54:00.001Z

Usually when we go to Orio we stay with relatives but this time with five of us we were too many, so the family arranged for us to stay at a B&B. This was an experience. The B&B is delightful. It is in the oldest house in the village dating from 1767, but it was clean and modern. It turns out we were the first guests ever. This makes it of great interest not just to us but to the entire clan, all of whom accompanied us to check in and crowded into our two rooms to check it out for themselves. I would like to tell you the name of the place but I can't because it doesn't yet have a name. No one will ever know we were the first to stay there because there is no guest register. Oh, and there is no electronic record of payment because they only take cash--no credit cards. When you walk up to the house, you parade past several gates behind which barking dogs greet you somewhat unnervingly. The first thing the landlord explains to you is how to turn the hot water on and off. You can tell where the hot water is because all the pipes stick through the wall of the bathroom into the adjacent bedroom where they are conveniently covered by the bed shoved against the wall. One of those pipes feeds the bidet, which, if you have small children, is the most interesting part of the whole place. Gales of laughter will ensue as each one feels a blast of cold water hitting her backside as she washes her "bum bum". The B&B itself is located directly under the belltower of the picturesque Church of San Giorgio. At breakfast the next morning, the proprieter can tell you all about how the bells of the church are broken, which is why they ring madly at 4 a.m. Someone is coming from Genoa to fix them, someday. Of course, you will probably not understand this, if you do not speak Italian, as the landlord speaks only Italian and some French. Anyway, you don't really need language to communicate the message of "Eat! Eat!" the breakfast set before you consisting of bread, toast, biscotti and brioche. You also jam and butter, and for a beverage you get coffee or chocolate and a single obligatory glass of orange juice. This is all served with great formality for the approximately five minutes it takes to eat your piece of toast. And then you are ready for the day. If you ever go to Orio, I highly recommend the B&B. It has character. It would tell you the name and phone number, but since I don't know it, I can't. Just drive into town and ask at the town square and someone will point the way.

Random Snaps

2009-03-08T22:53:00.005Z

Olivia at Carnevale with a local official in costume; Meredith makes pizza with cousin Flavia; Cecily with cousin Cecilia (Cecily was quite taken to find out that she had a cousin her shared her name and immediately rechristened herself for our Italian visit.)

The Restaurant of Dreams

2009-03-08T22:53:00.004Z

Sarah and Alain, proud owners of the best restaurant in Orio (and possibly in the Piemonte!)

When we visited Orio in 2000, Alain Zanolo and Sarah Ponzetti Zanolo showed us the shell of what they told us they planned to rebuild as a restaurant. It was not much to look at then: the shell of a very old building in the center of Orio with rubble walls, rubble floors, some old beams and vaulted brick ceilings. We have often wondered whether it would succeed. I don't think either of us was therefore quite prepared for what we found this time. It has not only succeeded, it has succeeded marvellously! La Trattoria Barbatoni is a gem of a restaurant seating 26 on an ordinary night and 65 when it is packed. It serves a fantastic regional menu prepared with the best ingredients, hosts an amazing wine cellar and attracts clientele from all across northern Italy, including Turin and Milan. It is superb in every way, including an astounding level of investment in very expensive wine glasses which improve the quality of the vino when it is served. No detail is beneath the attention of owner/hosts Alain and Sarah who run the kitchen, the reception and provide the service themselves. It is first class all the way. Tour operators should take note. To get the real feel of Italy, this is a place you ought to be taking your clients! Follow a link to the restaurant here: http://www.barbatoni.it/

A Visit To An Italian Winery

2009-03-08T22:52:00.001Z

Wine featured prominently in our visit. Alain used his connections to arrange a visit to one of the area's oldest wineries, Orsolani, founded in 1894. We met the winemaker/owner and his parents, and wwe learned about the winery's production, including the fact that the winery has served both Pope John Paul II and President George Bush--a pretty funny thing to hang your hat on considering that Bush is famous for not drinking. We sampled the vintages, most of which we would never have encountered in the states. We actually learned a fair amount, and we were humbled at the end of our visit when the winemakers presented us with a rare and expensive book highlighting the history of all the wineries of Italy. What we enjoyed most, I think, had to be the Italian version of the history of winemaking in the world. It goes something like this: "The French claim to have invented lots of things about wine. Nothing the French invented wasn't previously invented by the Italians, or if it was, Italians perfected the art of it long and taught the French how to do it right." The most grievous error of the French, it seems, is that they claim to have invented the methode champenois, method for making champagne, which, according to the Italian version of the world, was well known to the Romans. While I have no idea what is true or not true, it continues a theme we hear throughout Europe. That thing at which the French are best is self-promotion. At its heart, French culture is culture purloined from the rest of Europe.

Carnevale

2009-03-08T22:51:00.002Z

For family benefit: the little boy who features prominently in this video is Andrea, son of Ennio. The man in the brown sweater is Daniele, son of Antonio. The woman beside Daniele is Marina, wife of Ennio.

One of the things we got to experience this time around was the community Carnevale. You might know this event if you live in the states as Mardi Gras and you will know that it is supposed to occur before Ash Wednesday to mark the start of Lent. Orio knows that too, but as they explained, the big cities all have taken those dates so they hold their carnevale in the middle of Lent. (So much for self denial.) The neighborhood children all gather in costumes at the local community center on Saturday afternoon, and there is much tossing of confetti. We were practically buried in the stuff, which unfortunately sticks to woolen clothing and little girl hair with tenacity of chewing gum. We were covered in the stuff before we left. There is a big party on Saturday night, and Sunday morning the whole town brings empty pots down to the town square to fill them from big cauldrons of beans seasoned with pork stewed by the town grandees. It is a very festive time, and apparently gets more so as the evening wears on just before the giant bonfire is lit in the square. Unfortunately, our time ran out, and we had to catch our plane before the event ended. Nonetheless, the two-thirds of carnevale which we encountered was a unique and enjoyable cultural experience.

Ordinary To You, Extraordinary To Me

2009-03-08T22:50:00.004Z

Commercial wine production was part of our visit, but Laura was excited to learn that one of her cousins is making really excellent wine in one of his subterranean storerooms. Daniele makes both red and white and a passito which are really, really drinkable. While he dismisses the quality of them, we sampled them at lunch and found them very drinkable and enjoyed a pleasant visit about production experiences. It is funny that the family all try to find something suitable to give us whenever we visit. What they could give us that we would most enjoy is simple a couple of bottles of Daniele's wine made from the grapes he grows in the backyard. And speaking of the practical over the sublime, we found our own perfect gift for cousins Paola and Mossimo: they want from us a decent recipe for pancakes and a bottle of maple syrup. Apparently, finding a truly authentic recipe is a difficult thing in Italy and pancakes are much prized. The challenge for them will be to manufacture buttermilk, since apparently this substance doesn't exist in Italy. We will also be sending them a pastry cutter, as they were quite interested in an had not ever heard of this kitchen implement. Strangely enough, they are not alone. We have yet to find anyone in Britain who has ever heard of or sells such a thing either. Travel is indeed a broadening experience for all involved.

Random Snaps: Bambini

2009-03-08T21:59:00.003Z

Enrico (son of Sarah and Alain); Andrea (son of Ennio and Marina); Cecilia (daughter of Daniele and Paola); Giordano (son of Paula and Mossimo); petting the propieter's cat--our favorite activity each morning; Guilia (daughter of Enni0 and Marina) with Cecily; the end of a hard day.

No Posts Until Monday

2009-03-06T00:01:00.001Z

We are gone to Italy March 6-8. We'll be posting again on Monday. Arrivaderci!

Olivia's Journal: A Moral Conundrum

2009-03-05T23:05:00.006Z

I have been lerning about the french revolution. There were the aristocrats and the peasants. The aristocrats were the ones that owned the land and took the money and payed taxes to the govorment. The peasants were the ones that had there money taken away and starved to death. The peasants got tired of being starved to death so one day they came and chopped off the aristocrats heads inklooding the king and queen's and their kids. The peasants took all there stuff and the english bought most of the things. You can see it in the Walace Collection and Buckingham Palace. The question is, who do you think was right? I think that they were both right because the aristocrats were just doing there job and living a happy life but they made the peasants starve. The peasants just wanted food but they didn't have to chop off there heads. They could of just did something else. What do you think? [Editor's note: the photo at left is a picture of a handbill advertising the sale of the contents of Marie Antoinette's Petit Trianon, a full seven months before her death. It's one of the things that we saw in the Wallace Collection, that prompted this post.]

Museum of London Docklands

2009-03-04T21:13:00.007Z

Today we made the long journey across London via the tube and the Thames River boat to Canary Wharf in the east end where the London Museum Docklands is located. A companion to the Museum of London which we visited early on in our trip, the focus of this museum is the importance of the shipping trade to London's development. A central focus of the museum is England's involvement with the slave trade and the terrible cost in human lives associated with that commercial practice. We were surprised to learn that the end of the slave trade wasn't as much moral revulsion, as films like Amazing Grace would have us believe but rather had more to do with basic economics that caused the overall British economy to go into a slump. We also learned cool things about the construction of the original London Bridge and about the poverty of dockworkers and other laborers in the 19th century. We learned about press gangs, and we learned about the whaling trade. We also learned about the damage inflicted on the dockyards by Germany in the Second World War. In a nifty little sideshow we saw samples of various imports collected by the customs house, including Laura's favorite, a jar of "Old Man Eyebrows" from China.

Cultural Relativism

2009-03-04T21:12:00.003Z

I had to buy a new workbook for Meredith in order to continue her schooling her, the old one having a number of defects. Fortunately, I found a local bookstore with some great curricular choices, including one published by Oxford Press. She is making excellent progress and loving it. However, the fact that the book is British brings a few challenges. We are definitely learning the meaning of cultural relativism! Imaging that you have the vocabulary of an American 5-year-old who can't yet read, try and find the correct word fill in the blanks underneath the above four pictures. Don't peek at the answers until you've tried! (Hint: no word is longer than four letters.) In case you're no more culturally connected than our five-year old, the correct answers appear in pink at the end of the blog on the prime minister's visit to the U.S.

British Perspective: Prime Minister's Visit To U.S.

2009-03-04T21:11:00.000Z

UK Prime Minister Gordon Brown is in Washington, D.C., visiting with the newly elected President and addressing Congress. This is a coup for the prime minister because he is the first European head of state to be allowed to visit President Obama at the White House. Most people here seem to think that Brown's visit is just a publicity stunt to distract from his declining popularity as the recession deepens. They quickly point out that just last week he played the politics of distraction by inviting the pope to visit Britain. Anyway, whatever they think of Brown's motiviation, people here are even less thrilled with Washington's reception of Brown. All the newspapers, respectable and otherwise, are outraged that Brown got only a 30 minute interview with the President. Their upset comes not from the short amount of time allocated but from the fact that the President's explanation was that he had an important meeting with the Boy Scouts that couldn't be postponed. Bumping the P.M. of a major ally to hang with boys in shorts and caps doesn't sit well with a country that thinks of itself as the center of the universe. Meanwhile, all of this is taking place against a backdrop of a funeral capturing national attention--that of the 4-year-old son of opposition leader David Cameron, who stands to become the next PM if Brown is ousted in upcoming election. The contrast between the fumbling prime minister trying in vain to catch a ray or two of reflected glory from the new President,and the young, grieving father attending to family responsibilities could harldy be more stark. [Answers to the Cultural Relativism post above: tap, pram, bog, chip]

Waiting For the Riverboat

2009-03-04T21:10:00.000Z

Visiting A Treasure House

2009-03-03T21:54:00.007Z

We visited the Wallace Collection today, a museum of great art, furniture and armour collected by the 4th Marquess of Hertford and willed to the nation by his son. The entire collection is displayed in his London town home, a beautiful mansion, each wall of which is wallpapered in silk with floor to ceiling curtains in the range of 12 feet high. By chance, we happened upon the mansion as a concert on an antique harsichord was finishing up, giving us a rare opportunity to hear that instrument. We then wandered the galleries, continuing to find ourselves amazed as we came upon one well known piece of art after another. Our favorite story was of the purchase of Rubens paintings by the marquess. He bought them sight unseen because he thought he should. Then he put them in storage and never looked upon them. Other artists that impressed were Rembrandt, Hals, Titian, Van Dyke, Murillo and Champeigne. we all enjoyed looking at the large collection of bronzes and through them learning about the ten labours of Hercules. Olivia was particularly interested in landscapes, while Meredith made a game out of looking for Cupids and Psyches. In the house, we also stumbled upon the largest single collection of furniture owned by Marie Antoinette, which gave us an opportunity to discuss seriously with Olivia the moral dimensions of the excesses of the French Revolution versus the terrible suffering of the peasantry which led to it. She is pondering that still. We also saw the amazing collection of armour, and the girls got actually got to try some of it on (see photos above). Unfortunately, we had to leave as the museum closed, but for a small museum with free admission, it was well worth the trip.

A Couple Hours With the Lord Chancellor

2009-03-03T21:39:00.006Z

Scott had a little chat today with the Lord Chancellor of England, along with 200 of his friends and intimates who also attended a lecture at the London School of Economics. The Lord Chancellor historically was one of the most powerful positions in the British government, serving as chief of the judiciary, a member of the Cabinet and speaker of the House of Commons. (Apparently, separation of powers hadn't been invented yet.) The most famous lord chancellor ever is probably Thomas More, whose head Henry VIII removed when More didn't support his break with the Roman Catholic church. The position is less important since reforms in 2005, and even after attending the lecture, I'm still a little unclear as to the positions exact functions. According to the current chancelor, Jack Straw, the position is "steward of the Constitution" which doesn't help much considering that the British Constitution is an unwritten document which gets interpreted by parliament as times dictate. I learned several interteresting facts at the lecture, notably that Straw is the first "commoner" to occupy the office since 1591, the last year Christopher Hatton was chancellor for Elizabeth I. I also learned that Britain has an incredibly well funded legal defense system (for which the Lord Chancellor is responsible), funded at f38 per capita (compared with f4 in Germany and f3 in France.) This is quite lucrative for some attorneys who specialize in defending the indigent, producing more than f1 million per year in revene. The Lord Chancellor went out of his way to make it clear this practice is nearing its end! Lastly, the lecture ended on a fascinating note. In response to a question, the Lord Chancellor strongly defended the use of closed circuit television and mandatory DNA registration as a necessary protection of Britons. In a most un-British way, he was nearly shouted out of the room by the assembled audience of lawyers and law and political science-students!

Pimp My Ride

2009-03-03T21:24:00.002Z

Somebody in London thinks s/he is very funny. These stickers replicate official tube signs and are posted on various tube cars around London. Given the crowded condition of the tube at some times, it doesn't seem too far fetched!

Just Beat It

2009-03-02T22:30:00.004Z

Even the most determined sightseers must pause occasionally to attend to domestic chores--in our case, homework, housecleaning, laundry and some shopping. The chore to which the girls were introduced today was rug beating. Far from thinking this was an awful task, they vied for a turn with the push broom to beat the dust from the carpet. For Olivia, it was an opportunity to take out some aggression--probably held over from her frustration with having to do multiplication story problems. In the end, all three girls did a good job with rug beating. They are available to be hired out when we come home! Not so much their Mom, who seized the opportunity of having three little girls outside to give the floor a needed scrub. Hey, Honey, if you're reading this, you're as sexy when you clean as when you draft legal documents and write wine columns!

Olivia's Journal: The Zoo

2009-03-02T22:29:00.000Z

Yesterday we went to the London Zoo. It was very fun. My favorite was the tiger. Unfortunatele, they were layzy. I also liked the otters. We got to see them eat crayfish. They swam to the bottom, caught one, came back up and ate it alive. I took a video of it. I also liked the penguins, but I was amazed by how little there was of penguins. We also saw butterflys. We saw the world's largest moth. It looked fake, and it only lived seven days. We also saw gifraffes. They were very cool. Evry time the other one came in they would play around. My favorite thing was when I read a plaque that said the lion trys to get his neibors and eat them as an extra meal! It was a very fun day.

We See Our Girls In A New Light At Methodist Hall

2009-03-01T23:57:00.001Z

We began our day in ecumenical fashion by attending services at the United Methodist Central Hall in London. This enormous church is next door to Westminster Abbey and the Houses of Parliament. It was built in 1912 as the world headquarters of Methodism and served as the site of the first meeting of the United Nations in 1946. Its enormous central auditorium seats 2,352 although the space is designed to feel much smaller. The sanctuary is dominated by an enormous pipe organ around which the choir is seated, giving it all a rather Mormon Tabernacle-esque feeling. The service was nice enough, and the people were extraordinarily friendly, but what really surprised us was when the time came for the children to head off to Sunday School. To our surprise, all three of our girls were eager to go. They happily left Mom and Dad without a murmur and went off somewhere in the cavernous bowels of the building with the other children. Are these the same little girls who had to taken to their Sunday School room at St. Pauls Hammersmith by their parents and bribed heavily to allow us to leave? It was a moment of realization for us as to how much our little girls have grown emotionally in our two months in London and a moment of pride in just how secure all three of them have become.

The London Zoo: Fun But Oddly Disappointing

2009-03-01T23:56:00.001Z

After church, Mom and Dad had a surprise for little girls. Much to Olivia's frustration, we wouldn't tell them our afternoon plans, but as we got closer she figured it out for herself. Our destination was the London Zoo at Regent's Park. Quite honestly, the zoo is pretty sad in every respect but price where it truly is the leader of the pack. It is old, tired and inferior in variety, animal care and physical condition to the zoos with which we are more familiar in Portland and St. Louis. Still, a monkey is a monkey, and the girls were excited to see plenty of them. They also enjoyed the gorillas, Bactrian (two-humped) camels, the giraffes, the otters, the pygmy hippos, the tigers and lion, the pigs, the wild dogs and the parrots. They really liked the butterfly house, and Meredith and Cecily were thrilled when the keeper worked with them to allow a butterfly to land on their fingers. Strangely enough, the zoo doesn't have a number of the standard animals one expects at zoos, such as elephants. London Zoo does operate another larger zoo outside London at Whipsnade where a larger collection of some 2500 animals is based. Getting to it, however, is a transportation nightmare which we and all but the most ardent of zoological tourists are not equipped. Given that the zoo seems to keep the best of its collection locked away where no one can see it, is it any wonder they are under financial strain?

Have You Ever Seen Animals Like These?

2009-03-01T23:55:00.000Z

Cecily shows us a llama.

Olivia imitates the bearded pig.

Meredith mimics a pelican.

Quote of the Day

2009-03-01T23:54:00.000Z

An actual conversation at dinner tonight, apropos of our trip to the zoo:

Dad: Olivia, what do you call a thing that eats other things?
Olivia: Ummmm, predator?
Dad: Right! Good job. And what do you call the things that get eaten?
Olivia: Clients!

I'm Not Whining About Wine School

2009-02-28T21:26:00.000Z

One of the goals of this trip was for Laura to get additional wine education. Although I have spent a lot of time on self-study, through reading and travel, I was (and still am) anxious to formalize my credentials by learning from the experts. I signed up for the Intermediate Certificate Course through the Wine and Spirit Education Trust. The WSET is a well-regarded organization that provides professionals in the wine and spirits trade. Some pursue a certificate to help them find a job; for others, it's a job requirement. The course itself is three full days; I took it on consecutive Mondays. It was intense and challenging, and it required a lot of studying--about 40 hours. I can't say I enjoyed it -- it was too much work to actually enjoy it at the time -- but I sure thought about what I learned for several days after each class. The course ended with a difficult examination. This is serious stuff. You have to leave all your materials under the table; you cannot talk to proctor; and you must prove your identify with photo ID before the start of the exam. As I was taking the exam, my stomach was churning, and I was sweating. At one point, I tried to remind myself that my score really doesn't matter. And I couldn't help but think -- I CHOSE to do this. In fact, I CHOSE to PAY MONEY to do this! What was I thinking?Although I won't get my results for six weeks, I'm certain I passed. In the end, however, that's not what was most important. What's important is that I learned a lot, I had fun and I'm going to be able to update my bio to note that I'm now officially Wine and Spirits Institute-educated.

What I Learned At Wine School

2009-02-28T21:25:00.001Z

So, what did I learn? The most valuable things I learned were (a) what to expect from the most common types of wines (including varieties like chardonnay or cabernet) and what to expect from wines from particular regions (such as South African pinotage or Loire Valley chenin blanc); and (b) how to taste wine in a systematic and critical way. Each day involved about 6 hours of lecture together with the tasting of 18 wines. We sipped (and spit) each wine an average of 3-4 times as we judged the color on two criteria, the nose (smell) on three criteria and the palate (taste) on six criteria. It was methodical and thorough. We did this by tasting, swirling and spitting wine all day. This had an unexpected consequence. By the end of each day although I had never actually swallowed a drop, I found the idea of a relaxing glass of wine repulsively stomach-turning. Despite this, the tastings were invaluable. By using this tasting method (the WSET folks refer to it as the "Systematic Approach to Tasting"), I have a very effective way to compare wines. As a result, I can tell you what a wine should look, smell and taste like just by knowing what grapes it is made from, where it was grown and when it was bottled. As a result, I can better describe why I don't like a certain wine and I have a good chance of avoiding similiar wines in the future. In addition, I'm more than ready to write wine-tasting notes now--all I need is for the Central Oregonian to spring for the shipment of wines to write about each month!

Wine School: A Spouse's Perspective

2009-02-28T21:24:00.000Z

Scott was supportive of Laura's desire to go to wine school while we were here. "You already know most of what they're going to teach you, but if you need the piece of paper to prove it to someone else, here's the perfect chance to get it," he said. Scott, unlike Laura, isn't a wine snob. In fact, he's more of a wine slob. Laura recently gave him a taste test of red wines, where he managed to get five out of five varietals wrong. Basically, he knows three kinds of wine: red, white and pink and he still uses the "choose the pretty label" and "expensive must be better" methods to pick wine in the grocery. Being married to Laura, he has picked up a few things: don't put red wine with fish (usually) or white wine with beef (usually), don't discriminate against wine just because it has a screw top and don't serve wine in plastic glasses. That's about it. He isn't even ready for the beginner class at Wine and Spirits Insitute, much less the advanced. So when Laura came home talking about the "fifth sense" being umami and discussing "terroire" and going on about sherry, I thought she was referring respectively to soybeans from Japan, the dog and my sister-in-law respectively. But I did what husbands do best: I listened attentively, looked interested, nodded approvingly at the right points and basked once again in the sheer pleasure of knowing that I married a really smart woman who's even smarter now. By the way, dear, can you bring me a glass of wine: whatever's red and on the counter will be just fine.

Third Time's A Charm: The London Transport Museum

2009-02-28T21:23:00.000Z

We have now been (as a family) three times to Covent Garden where the London Transport Museum is located, but each time previously, distractions caused us to miss one of its main attractions, the London Transport Museum. This time we showed steely determination in marching past the street performers and straight to our destination. It was worth the effort. The girls loved climbing on wagons, busses, trains cars and tube cars, and Mom and Dad marvelled at the details of the contstruction and operation of one of the most complex public transportation systems in the world. We were surprised to learn that the system itself is more than a century old and that our western suburb of Hammersmith was one of the earliest suburban areas connected to Central London. The girls also got the chance to lie down in a mocked-up air raid shelter replicating those which were used for refuge by 130,000 Londoners nightly during the Blitz, and we contemplated together what London must have been like 100 years ago when the Thames was giant sewer and the smoke and "fug" of industrial smoke (that's an English word) hung heavy in the air. Something must have sunk in about all that with Olivia because when we left, while her sisters insisted on keeping their souvenir entry cards with 13 hole punches carefully collected at various stations around the museum, Olivia decided to deposit hers back in the recycle bin for the good of the environment.

An Afternoon At The Movies

2009-02-28T21:22:00.000Z

We had lunch at a cafe near Leicester Square with Scott choosing fish and chips and Laura trying falafel. It was quite British, much to the dismay of the girls who were unsuccessful in begging their parents to make a McDonald's run. Despite that, they enjoyed their pasta and their fresh-squeezed apple-juice. We then headed to our afternoon destination, a nearby cinema where we all watched Hotel For Dogs. The cinema experience was a little different than what we've encountered before. Leicester Square is in the heart of London's theatre district, and interestingly, the cinema is run as if it were a cinema. First, the seats are assigned. Second, the number of chairs is relatively small for each screen. (Our auditorum probably held 75 max.) Third, there is an usher in each auditorium to show you to your seat and preserve order, at least at the start of the film. Finally, the auditorium itself has a heavy emphasis on decor. We didn't fully understand going in that we weren't going into a standard movie theater which caused us to make one mistake: when the cashier offered us front-row seats, we declined them, not wanting the experience of being overwhelmed by the screen and emerging with a neckache. In retrospect, given the layout of the theater, what we had been offered were the best seats in the house. Oh well. Live and learn.

The Center of the World

2009-02-28T21:21:00.007Z

Before leaving home, I was thumbing through a book at Barnes and Noble giving advice to young men. The author, a Brit, advised his readers: "Never live more than 50 miles from London." I really didn't understand that comment at the time, but that was before I fully comprehended just how completely the British really do believe that the capital city of their tiny little island is indeed the center of the universe. I don't know exactly when Britain accepted that the earth revolves around the sun and not the other way around, but I now know that they live with the sure and certain conviction that when God first parted the waters in Genesis, the first thing to emerge was the island of Britain (excepting the Republic of Ireland, of course.) The above two images are examples of what we see all the time. Notice the heading on the first, a map of transatlantic cables, taken at the Royal Institution. The banner reads: "Britain: The World Center." Now look closely at the map we saw today in the London Transport Museum which displays: London, the British Isles (minus the Republic of Ireland) and "All The Rest of the World." Is it any wonder that when Sir Walter Raleigh was locked up and bored in the Tower of London and he decided to pass the time by writing a book called "The History of the World", it turned out to be--surprises, surprise--a book about England.

Why Europeans Love Obama: One Man's Answer

2009-02-27T22:59:00.000Z

Scott had lunch downtown today with a Brit introduced by a mutual friend. It was a wonderful opportunity to talk with someone about the differing perceptions of Americans and Britons about the world in which we live and to share insights about our particular cultures. My favorite discussion had to be the one we had about the new president. I observed that while Americans are very hopeful for good leadership from Barack Obama and of course we celebrate his election as a breakthrough in race relations, we all temper our hopes with reality that the political system imposes real restraints on any President's ability to make significant change. Europeans, I observed, don't see to understand this and, if anything, are greater Obama fans than their American counterparts. John's response was unhestitating: "Of course we like him. The alternative was that horrible woman from Alaska who kills things!" The depth of European revulsion for Sarah Palin caught me off-guard, but John explained it was a major factor here as the election unfolded. "You have to remember that America leads the world, and the President is more than the President is the de-facto leader of the world," he said. "A 73-year-old cancer survivor and a killer won't likely run the world in a direction most Europeans could support!" It was one of many topics we covered, including why Britons puts up with queues, trash bags that don't open and the future of the world economy, potential for reform of the American healthcare system, the culture of poverty and the future of the American political system. It was one of those thoughtful conversations that makes me love travel.

No Parking On Avenue Q

2009-02-27T22:58:00.000Z

Despite our best efforts, our plans around here have an irritating way of going awry. Tonight is the night that Laura was to take the two little girls to see Avenue Q at the Noel Coward Theater, a friendly little play featuring a bunch of Muppet type charcters. We bought the tickets for this performance some weeks ago. Yesterday, Scott travelled into Central London to pick them up, only to find the box office unexpectedly closed. Today, he made another trip, only to be told that Ticketmaster hadn't delivered tickets yet for today. With time running short, Laura and the girls, dressed in their theater-going best, headed off to brave the will-call line ahead of showtime. That's when we learned that something was deeply amiss. According to the theater, Ticketmaster has no record of having sold us any tickets. The theater offered to sell tickets at the door but at the same time made it clear that little children weren't going to be welcomed at the theater. At this point, Laura had had enough and returned home. The disappointment of the girls was quickly assuaged with a stop at the Disney store. While we hated missing the show, it was certainly fun to see the girls all dressed up in their finery, especially Meredith in the newly purchased hat which this was her first chance to wear.

Meanwhile, Back At The Ranch...

2009-02-27T22:57:00.000Z

A Visit To The Library

2009-02-27T00:57:00.002Z

Yesterday, while waiting around for the lecture to start at Westminster Cathedral, I had to kill some time so I ducked into the public library for the city of Westminister on the second floor of the City Hall. Westminister, for those who don't know, is the city at the center of London and is home to the Parliament for the United Kingdom, Westminister Abbey, the various Cabinet offices and more than 234,000 people. The library at city hall is the newest of the 12 branch facilities operated by the City of Westminster. To get there, I had to go through the city planning department and some other workers busy at their desks. When I got inside, I still wasn't sure I was in the right place. The "library" consists of a single large room, maybe the size of two offices at the county courthouse at home. There are a few books, a few computer terminals and a few periodicals. There were perhaps 5000 titles in all. The biography section consists of a single shelf (not a section--a shelf--pictured above.) For fun, I ran a search on the library catalogue of two subjects whose biographies I am currently seeking: George III and Oliver Cromwell. Despite the fact that the entire Westminster system claims to have a little over 5000 biographies total, it has none specifically on George III, one of England's most acclaimed monarchs. It has three on Oliver Cromwell, only one of which is available for checkout and the wait for that one is 48 days. By contrast, our public library at home has its own enormous building, a collection of 70,000+ items, meetings rooms, programs, banks of computers, etc., etc., etc. , and this is not considered a luxury but a standard part of government services. As a county commissioner I heard constantly about the unmet needs of our local library, but having seen what others have to work with, I'm more aware than ever of the need to count our blessings for what we've got!

A Visit To Somerset House

2009-02-26T23:37:00.009Z

Today we visited Somerset House, a mansion along the Thames in the heart of downtown London. It was built by the Lord Protector of England, Edward Seymour, after his nephew, Edward VI , son of Henry VIII, became a king as a child. Unfortunately for Seymour, he overstepped himself and lost his head shortly before the mansion was completed, but many royals thereafter thought it a very fine home indeed. We took a guided tour, which unfortunately focused more on the architectural detail than the history. (If you are a little girl, say BORING!) Still, to the adults at least, it was interesting to learn that the Thames used to flow under a part of the house to allow boats to disembark their passengers in the basement. It was also interesting to see some of the clever architecture used to build truly impressive staircases and to see the statues representing the four continents which were installed in 1775. Three of the statues, Europe, Asia and Africa, carry produce in their hands. Only the fourth (shown at left), representing America, holds a spear in its hand, reflecting the trouble the British were having with their colonies at that time. This place is also the place where stamps were affixed after the hated Stamp Act was imposed in 1763. Both Laura and Scott were surprised to find out that the Stamp Act was not only imposed on Americans; it was imposed equally on the British. That's something you never learn in American history!

We Ring The Bells of St. Mary's

2009-02-26T23:36:00.000Z

Shortly into our visit to Somerset House, a voice came over the loudspeaker instructing everyone to exit immediately via the nearest exit. The voice said only that "An incident has been detected." We hurried into the street without a clue as to the cause of the evacuation, although we later learned it was a false fire alarm. With nothing to do but wait, we went across the street and wandered into the church of St. Mary le Strand. It is a lovely little church, set right in the middle of the street. The architecture is over-the-top gorgeous and heavy on plaster carving. The warden was very friendly and told us all about it, but best of all, he offered to let the little girls ring the bell in the bell tower. They thought that was great fun and rang vigorously (above)until told to stop so as to not accidently call all the little old ladies in the neighborhood to services!