Three Turkeys go to Rome

It was hard to resist the obvious title of "Roman Holiday" (my favorite movie of all time) but I felt it necessary to stick with the theme of a new city for Thanksgiving.  But don't you worry - the classic gets its appropriate homage.  (Well, an homage anyway.  William Wyler might sniff at its appropriateness.)

Rome was, in a word, bravissimo.  Perhaps a better word:  stupefacente.  One more would be favoloso. And the list could go on.  What an absolutely wonderful trip.  Without doubt, what helped to make it so was truly unbelievable weather.  We arrived on a Wednesday evening, and it had rained earlier that day apparently.  But for the entirety of our stay, we had brilliant blue skies with high temps in the 60's; we were reminded of how fortunate we'd been on our trip to Spain last spring.  Even the Romans were saying that the weather was atypical for late November.  We were told that only the week or so before there'd been torrential rains in Rome, forcing the city to close down the Colosseum and other tourist attractions due to flooding.  Boy, did we dodge a bullet.

Rome is a place like no other we've seen.  A constantly evolving archaeological dig!  There are ruins of some kind just about everywhere you look.  The subway system is not one of the best due to the fact that every time they try to dig a new tunnel, some ancient artifact is found, stopping the bulldozers in their tracks.  (It still got us where we needed to go, however.)  Our hotel was just off a little cobblestone square, one block from the Temple of Hadrian - built in 145 AD!!  (It was incorporated into a papal palace in the 17th century, which is the facade you see from the square.) Anyhoo... Rome is old!  I mean, like - really old!  On the taxi ride from the airport in the dark, we could still marvel at impressive sites, such as the Terme di Caracalla (we never made it there but just loved to keep saying it all weekend with our best Italian accent, mimicking our taxi driver) and the amazing Monumento Nazionale a Vittorio Emanuele II (the National Monument) that we couldn't help but to view multiple times every day - it's enorme.  And the warmth and friendliness of the people in general was really gratifying.

The Albergo Cesari Hotel in Rome was charming & old and had everything we needed, including huge rooms.  It was in a great location on Via di Pietra, a narrow pedestrian-only street in the Pigna neighborhood and it was literally half way in between the Pantheon and the Trevi Fountain - less than a 10 minute walk to each.  The first night we stayed close by and ate dinner at the Taverna Antonina, where I tried our first pasta carbonaro (a very traditionally Roman dish) and it was amazing.  I can honestly say that we had only one meal our entire visit that would not fall into the "amazing" category - and even that one was still very enjoyable.  After a fantastic meal and our first (of many) Limoncello digestifs, we strolled around our neighborhood.  As we walked we did start to notice the sound of rushing water, but it wasn't until we turned a corner that we realized that we'd come upon the iconic Trevi Fountain, and I was knocked breathless for the first time.  It's truly difficult to describe the feeling of seeing these unbelievable sites for the first time up close; places you've seen photos of your entire life or in movies or books and imagined what they must be like.  The Trevi Fountain is such a place - but very different that what I imagined as it's basically the facade of the Poli Palace which stands behind it, so it appears to simply be one of the walls of a square (the Piazza di Trevi).  Images we've all seen give the impression that it's in a much more open area.  But this does not in any way detract from its beauty. We sat and admired for awhile (with thousands of our closest tourist chums) then made our way back to the hotel for a good night's rest - we had so much more to see.

The fact that the next day was Thanksgiving in America was all but forgotten, aside from the fact that we felt very thankful for our surroundings.  We started the day with breakfast on the rooftop veranda and some of the strongest coffee I've ever had, but we were going to need it.  We had a 1:30 appointment to meet a guide that we'd hired at the Vatican and wanted to make the most of the morning.  We decided to check out one of the "hop-on, hop-off" bus tours that seem to have become all of the rage and that we've had good luck with in other cities; in Rome really not so much.  The traffic is so gridlocked that it makes for a tortuously slow ride; I for one just kept feeling like I should be making better use of my time in such a city.  We did get views of some amazing sites, but then once you appreciated what you saw you'd continue to sit there and look at it from the same view for the next 5 minutes until the bus moved again.  We stayed on board as long as we could before we knew that if we didn't get out and find an alternate route we'd never make it to our appointment on time, so we disembarked at the Termini station and hopped on the metro for the really easy ride back across town.  A short walk and we were at the Vatican Museums where we were to meet our wonderful Italian guide, Cinzia for our tour, which included the museums, the Sistine Chapel, and St. Peter's Basilica (as a group, otherwise known as the Vatican.)  Mio Dio, what a place.  The museums were all once the residences of popes; apparently as a new pope came along, he would build a new palace for himself and the old one would be used to display the art collections.  The result is a huge art collection the likes of which I've never imagined.  The frescoes by Raphael in the museums stood up to the works in the Sistine Chapel in my mind.  Not to say that the works of Michelangelo, Botticelli & others in the Sistine Chapel were anything to sneeze at.   I'll never again be able to look at the former's "Adam and Eve" in the same way.  Savvy Cinzia used her iPad in the Chapel to bring up close for us the images on the ceilings and walls that seemed miles away from where we were standing.  And the Chapel was the one place that you could not take photos; I didn't have a problem with that until Cinzia told us that it had more to do with copyright infringement than the preservation of the work.  Sheesh!  But I still couldn't bring myself to try to sneak one.  Leaving the Chapel, you enter St. Peter's Basilica, and we were completely stunned by its magnificence.  If that seems dramatic, I promise you it's not.  I had chills.  I had goosebumps.  I considered going to mass again.  It had quite an impact!  Seeing Michelangelo's "Pietà" brought tears to my eyes.  St. Peter's Basilica is the largest church in the world, and it will surely leave its mark on anyone who comes to visit, no matter what their religious affiliation.  Then it was out to St. Peter's Square (Piazza San Pietro) for some more "oohing" and "ahhing" and the end of our time with Cinzia.  Hiring her was a splurge as it was a private tour just for the 3 of us, but we felt it was some of the best tourist money ever spent.  Actually, before Cinzia left us she kindly walked us to a local trattoria and spoke with the owner on our behalf to make sure that we could get a meal at that time of day - it was late afternoon by this point.  The Birra Moretti and simple food were just what we needed before making our way back to the hotel.  That evening was a special birthday meal for me as I turned 29, just as I had the year before in Prague.  How lucky can a girl get?  We celebrated with a wonderful dinner at Ristorante Clemente Alla Maddalena (complete with fireworks in the desert!) then a walk back home past the Pantheon.

Friday dawned, bringing with it more strong coffee and the goal of the Colosseum, which was about a 20 minute walk from the hotel.  There was much to marvel at on the way there, then we marveled in excess at the Colloseo itself.  We were perhaps a half mile away when we caught our first glimpse and the old lump developed in the old throat.  The pinnacle of sporting venues, the structure was built in 80 AD, mostly on the back of Jewish slaves and celebrated with 100 days of games involving the massacre of at least 5,000 wild animals, in the most brutal of ways.  Yikes.  It's basically a huge ruin with a whole lot of history.  The visit to the Colosseum was followed by a short walk to the nearby Forum (a huge grassy plaza once the center of Roman public life containing various government buildings from roughly the first to the 5th centuries) and Palentine Hill, once an ancient city.  It was hard for me to grasp the history of this area as it goes so far back, but we did get some nice pictures there.  And thus began our search for the one place - besides the obvious ones - that I was not leaving Rome without finding: the church of Santa Maria in Cosmedin which contains the Bocca della Verità, or the Mouth of Truth.  Ringing any bells?  The Bocca della Verità is an ancient cistern cover which legend says will snap shut upon the hand of a liar and bite it off.  Am I getting close?  Need any more clues?  Princess pretending to be a commoner?  Gorgeous AP reporter pretending to be a knight in shining armour? You got it - it's the famous scene from "Roman Holiday" where Audrey just isn't quite sure about what Greg is telling her, then he scares her to pieces.  If you haven't seen this movie, I have just one thing to say: vergogna su di voi.  You figure it out.  All that acting made us hungry (see the photo album to understand) so on the way back to the hotel, we looked for a little trattoria that the guidebook recommended, the Enotica Corsi.  The streets were wind-y and we were getting tired so we finally came upon a welcoming looking place and Chris said "Let's just eat here."  And it just happened to be the very place I was trying to find.  And it was also one of our favorite meals.  We were almost the only customers besides the obvious family-owners who sat at their own table in the back.  The service was warm & friendly and the food was delizioso.  So cool when at the end of our meal they simply brought over a bottle of Limoncello for us to have as much or as little of as we wanted - on the house.  Now that's Italian!  After our little siesta back at the hotel (a daily necessity) dinner was perhaps our least favorite food, but our favorite waiter.  When we asked what he recommended, in his broken English he asked "Whadda you like?  I make it for you!"  So even tho' it wasn't the most delicious of meals, the atmosphere felt very pleasant and authentic.


Mio Dio!  It's only Saturday!  This day we sort of took a chance and decided to visit a place that I'd not before heard of but was highly recommended by the guidebooks and the locals: the Galleria Borghese. Talking about it the night before Kyle wasn't so sure about it, but even he was duly impressed by its awesomeness.  Once a 17th-century villa, the gallery now houses one of the richest of private art collections, amassed by Cardinal Scipione Borghese in the 1600's.  No photos were allowed inside, but the works we were most impressed by were the amazing, intricate sculptures by Gian Lorenzo Bernini. Simply jaw-dropping.  And outdoors was quite a treat as well.  The gallery is part of the Villa Borghese Gardens, some of the most beautiful gardens we've ever visited.  The camera got a work out as you'll see in the album.  On the way to the Borghese sites, we passed through the lovely Piazza del Popolo; on our way back, our destination was the Piazza di Spagna and the iconic Spanish Steps.  We found them without too much trouble, but timed our visit badly: it was a Saturday afternoon on a gorgeous weekend in autumn and not just every tourist within 50 miles but surely every Roman was out enjoying the scenery.  What a crowd.  And again, not at all like I imagined in the pictures.  The steps themselves are part of a square and not nearly as out in the open as you'd think.  But an excellent spot to enjoy a gelato or an espresso and soak up the sun.  We did have a look inside the Trinità dei Monti church which stands at the top of the steps before seeking out some food.  This time the guide book led us to a restaurant that had since been closed, so we settled for a nearby pizzaria and were not disappointed.  Our last dinner of the trip took us across the Tiber River (il Fiume Tevere) to the neighborhood of Trastevere and the wonderful Ristorante Sabatini where we were well taken care of (and where Federico Fellini apparently used to hang out.)  The waiter gave us quite a show with the decanting of the wine.  We walked back dodging some very loud bats in the trees above us (and keeping our heads covered - it was all a bit creepy) then Chris and I strolled to a square nearby the hotel after dropping a tired Kyle off and enjoyed a - you guessed it - Limoncello in an outdoor cafe.  When in Rome, and all that.


Our final day went quickly, and we wanted to get some shopping in (including finding the tie shop near the Trevi Fountain where Chris's brother had bought some ties on a previous trip.  We did find it - Segatori - and bought some more ties!)  We made an (almost) final stop by the Fountain to look in the shops, then made our way to the Piazza Navona - a Roman landmark but not terribly impressive that day, possibly because of the market stalls covering the square.  We hadn't yet seen the inside of the Pantheon, despite its close proximity to our hotel, and walking back to it we caught the tail end of an open-air concert by the police band.  The Pantheon was commissioned in the 2nd century as a temple to the gods of ancient Rome, but since the 7th century has been used as a Roman Catholic church.  It's a beautifully preserved rotunda, and Raphael is among the well known figured entombed there.  The inside is really beautiful.  We then made an (almost) final stop at the Trevi fountain on our way to lunch - this lunch was one of the best as we simply came upon it while we were looking for a pizzeria that one of the shopkeepers had recommended; it was an unadorned store front with the door partially closed and frankly I'm not sure what made us go in, but we were glad we did, as it was some of the most enjoyable food & service of our entire stay - and the hands-down best cappuccino.  Following lunch was our (final) final stop at the truly beautiful Trevi Fountain (I had to throw those 3 coins) then back to the hotel to pick up our luggage and catch our taxi.  Unfortunately, our experience at Rome's Fiumicino Airport was not a good one - really long, hot security lines and not the most pleasant of waiting areas.  But that could in no way put a damper on a trip to remember for the rest of our lives.  I certainly do hope to get back to Rome one day; in the meantime, I have much to remember it by.  Ahhhh... fantastico!


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Old York*

We liked York quite a lot.  It's one of our furthest travels north so far, but thanks to high-speed rail we were able to get there in just over 2 hours.  (Note to self: reserve your seats for future trips or you may find yourself standing on a crowded train for the better part of 2 hours!)

York is an ancient walled city on the River Ouse in Yorkshire, and was once considered the capital of England.   Many of the English cities we've visited were at one time walled for defense purposes.  In a few places - like Canterbury - the walls still exist, and in others - like Sandwich - there are paths to show you where the walls once were.  York has probably the finest preserved walls of any medieval city and you can walk along the nearly 3 mile stretch if you like to do such things.

We arrived on Friday afternoon, tired from standing on the train (!) so took a taxi right to our hotel, the really beautiful Middlethorpe Hall, which is a National Trust property.  This was a special stay as Middlethorpe Hall was built around the year 1700 as a beautiful country house for English "gentleman" Thomas Barlow.  Over the centuries it's been used as a home, a girls' boarding school and a nightclub, and has now been beautifully and meticulously restored.  The rooms are so beautifully decorated - we really felt transformed back to another era.  And the service, across the board, was exemplary.  This is not something easily found in England.  We took a taxi back in to town Friday evening, first to "The Swan" for a pint, then to dinner.  The Swan was quite a pub, a bit off of the beaten track (the hotel had recommended it as it was near our chosen restaurant) and obviously full of locals as opposed to tourists.  There's a bit of a different accent up north and this was quite evident amongst the chatting regulars.  Our dinner at another local establishment, Meltons, was really enjoyable, and Chris was able to have a good wine conversation with Lucy, one of the owners.

Saturday started with breakfast at the hotel, then a taxi into town.  As usual, we started at the information center to get our map (well, my map) and advice on what to do in the time available.  We started at the York Minster.  A minster apparently is a title given to a certain type of church in England, having something to do with the charter and/or type of clergy; a bit confusing for me - basically it's a cathedral.  And an impressive one at that; supposedly it's the largest gothic cathedral in Northern Europe built beginning in 1220.  We started the tour by climbing the 275 very steep stone steps up to the top of the Minster Tower.  Did I say that these steps were steep?  Because they were.  And it was a very narrow spiral stairway as well.  And the steps were pretty steep, just in case I haven't told you that yet.  It was the kind of deal where they let only 50 people at a time go up, then once you get to the top you need to wait until all 50 have come up before you can go down as there is only one staircase of pretty steep steps.  Going down was really not that much easier than going up, due most likely to the steepness of the steps.  But it was a nice view, which we were grateful for after the steep climb.

After touring the Minster we strolled the very busy streets - I didn't mention that we were dodging Vikings from the get-go (little did we know that it was the annual Viking Festival weekend which added some color to the atmosphere.) Festival aside, York is apparently quite a weekend destination and stays teeming with people all year round.

Another recommended place to see was the York Castle Museum.  Dubbed "the best day out in history", how could we resist?  In the end, we sort of wish we had.  It did house a very interesting collection of items from daily life in York throughout the centuries, but was really oddly put together.  You started out in "period rooms" from Victorian times, then suddenly you were in the year 1939, then being given an explanation of midwifery in the 17th century, then in a reconstructed indoor Victorian village, then the "Fab 60's" - Beatles music and all.  And outside on the front lawn the Vikings were practicing their battle to the death for that evening's performance (the apparent grand finale of the day's festivities.)  It all just felt weird.  This was followed by a pub lunch which may just have qualified as our worst pub lunch since arriving on these shores.  But the beer and atmosphere were just fine.  We continued then to stroll the streets and shops.  Much of the center of York is prohibited to car traffic which makes for great strolling, and the really old pedestrian alleyways are called "Snickleways" - how adorable is that?  There is also a narrow street called "The Shambles" which is apparently one of the best-preserved medieval streets in all of Europe.  We stopped for tea, as you do, and made our way back to the taxi rank to get a ride back to the hotel.  By now, by the way, the weather had turned windy and bitterly cold, so we were glad that our dinner reservation for that night kept us cozily in the hotel.

We ended the afternoon with a swim in the hotel pool and a soak in the hot-tub which I was quite grateful for; we had had a good workout earlier in the day climbing up some very steep steps in the York Minster (not sure if I  mentioned that.)  Dinner at the hotel matched the wonderful service, and we ate & drank quite well.  Sunday morning brought with it a magnificent blue sky but really cold temps.  We packed & checked out of the hotel, took a taxi to the train station to store our bags (what a great idea it would be for all stations to have a place to store your luggage), then bundled up and headed out.  As I bought a joint membership for Chris & I in the National Trust last year, I'm always happy to gain the free admission to its properties whenever I can; unfortunately many of these properties are winterized & closed ("put to bed" they say here) for the winter months.  Luckily, the Treasurer's House in York, a NT property, is one of the few places that are piloting a plan to open earlier in the year, so we were able to visit.  One of the reasons of course that these historic homes close is that there is no heat -  not just for the visitors but also for the poor docents that have to sit in each room to keep their eye on things.  So we had a chilly tour of a home that got its name not because it houses any treasures, but because it is built on the site where the treasurer of the Minster was once lived.  An eccentric fellow named Frank Green bought the re-built structure in 1897 and decorated the rooms based on the furniture pieces in them.  Hence there's the medieval Great Hall, Edwardian & Victorian period rooms, and the Queen's Room, where the future Edward VII's wife Alexandra once stayed - before she was even really a queen but who's to notice?  Frank donated the house and all of its contents to the NT in 1930 with the express condition that nothing was to be changed - he even had pins put into the floor to ensure the furniture stayed in place.  It all made for a nice tour.

Our next stop was "Betty's" - a landmark tea house & cafe in York (its flagship tearoom is in nearby Harrogate) that's been in business for 90+ years.  We'd found the original ("Big Betty's") on Saturday but the queue was around the block and we couldn't imagine the tea being that much better than anywhere else so we moved on.  On Sunday we decided to try it again, and just by sheer happenstance on the way came across what's known as "Little Betty's" which has the exact same menu and barely any line so we gave it a shot and were glad we did. A lovely lunch and delicious "Betty's Tea Room" blend of black tea.  But our thirst was not quite so easily quenched - thirst of a different kind.  On the way from the train station to the hotel on Friday afternoon, Chris had gotten into a conversation with the taxi driver about pubs and found out that one of his favorite British beers that he enjoyed in the US, Samuel Smith's, was not only available in some of the local pubs, but available on tap, not just in the bottle.  (It apparently is brewed in Tadcaster, just down the road.) So all weekend, he popped into just about every pub we passed to see if Samuel Smith's was available.  With barely an hour to spare on Sunday before our train, lo & behold there was the Hansom Cab pub with not just one but six types of SS's on tap!  He settled for a half pint each of a stout and a bitter and considered it a successful weekend.

We had just enough time for a short walk along the York walls on the way back to the train station.  After picking up our luggage and planning to wait 30 minutes for our train, along came an earlier train direct to King's Cross; looking inside we spied 2 unreserved seats so we shoved our way past the toddlers and old ladies and slipped into them just before the man with the crutches could get there.  Hooray!  Don't judge - you find you can become a different person when the alternative is standing for 2 hours while holding on for dear life.  (And yes, I am just kidding about the kids, elderly and handicapped.)

*as opposed to "New York" the American colony named after York.

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Back to Kent

Even tho' I think every once in awhile that I miss having a car, when we actually do drive in the city I quickly remember how lucky we are not to have one.  When I say "we" drive, I of course mean Chris.  When we first came to London, I told him that learning to drive here could be one of the biggest challenges of my life, but also one of my greatest accomplishments.  However, it was not to be.  Just wasn't worth the hassle and most of the cars here have manual transmissions anyway, which I never mastered on my own side of the pond with the gear shift on my right...  I could really be dangerous behind the wheel here.  What with the "roundabouts" every 100 yards and the motorways named with letters & numbers, going clockwise and "anti-clockwise".  And when giving directions in the UK (or in fact anywhere we've been in Europe) no one uses street names.  It's "Go down this road about 5 minutes and turn right when you see the Budgens."  This includes the good old GPS, or "sat nav" as it's more popularly referred to here.  Our automated friend simply doesn't use road names or numbers, rather it's, "after 100 yards, turn right at the round about, third exit" or "after 200 yards, bear right" or "after 100 yards, go straight on!"  But she was spot on with her most recent commentary, and we were grateful to have her when we rented a car last weekend and drove to the Kent Coast.

I've been wanting to see Dover Castle, and a few different people recommended against staying in the town of Dover itself, so I found a hotel in the seaside port of Ramsgate, about 20 miles north.  Suffice it to say that Ramsgate is nowhere as scenic as its tourist website portrays, and the room we stayed in - although the hotel itself was charming - was probably the smallest we've ever stayed in.  Ever.  In our lives.  One of us had to back up around the bed when the other needed to grab something from the closet - er - cubby with hangers.  But it was clean and functional and completely fine.  And despite the lack of atmosphere in Ramsgate, we had really great dinners there both nights we stayed, first at a seafood restaurant tucked away above a fishmonger's shop, and the second at a Michelin-starred venue with a waiter from NYC.

The real highlights of this weekend were Dover Castle and the famed "White Cliffs".  And we thoroughly enjoyed the town of Sandwich, where we spent our Sunday before heading back to London.  Dover Castle is a fort that originally dates back to early Saxon days 2,000 years ago.  It was expanded upon under Henry II, who built the current castle in the early 12th century.  Well, we are talking about a king here, so I suppose it's more accurate to say that he had the castle built.  Over the years, it's served as a key defense of Britain, being quite close to the coastline of France across the English Channel.  From the first invasion by the French in 1216, to protection during the Napoleonic Wars threat in the early 1800's, to it's importance in the planning and execution of "Operation Dynamo" - a huge evacuation effort of British troops from Dunkirk during WWII - Dover Castle has earned its nickname of "key of England".

The castle is actually a huge complex, and your visit can be broken up into sort of 5 different eras of history; we spent the most time in the Secret Wartime Tunnels exhibit.  These tunnels were first built  - or dug I suppose - during the Napoleonic Wars - and became the crucial centerpiece for the afore-mentioned Operation Dynamo.  They basically provided an underground city including headquarters, barracks, and a hospital, and the amazing feat of the evacuation of nearly 340,000 troops over 10 days who were trapped in Dunkirk and unable to fend off the German army any longer, was carried out from these tunnels.  The exhibit was really well done and moving.

Leaving the castle, we drove to the nearby White Cliffs.  The weather had improved nicely by then and we had a lovely walk along the cliff edge (!) to get a good look.  We recalled our trip to the more-impressive Cliffs of Mohor in Ireland in 2005 - like then, there was not a guardrail in sight.  And it was windy which made us feel all the more vulnerable.  But we didn't fall thank goodness, rather we got some lovely pictures and strolled back to the car after about 30 minutes - we really didn't need more.  On the way back to Ramsgate, we stopped in the nice little coastal town of Deal and had a bit of a walk around before stopping for a pub lunch, then headed back to our hotel.  As I said earlier, Ramsgate doesn't seem to offer much in the way of culture or history, but we were 2 for 2 with really excellent restaurants for our dinners, in both food & service.  Made the lack of square footage in our hotel room bearable.  And speaking of the hotel, the common areas were really charming, and they even had an extensive vinyl collection and a turntable; while I was napping one afternoon Chris whiled away some time in the reception room listening to classic Dire Straits.

After packing up and checking out the next morning, we headed for Sandwich, a lovely and historic little Cinque port town. (What's a Cinque port? click here. )  At first we were a bit discouraged, as everything seemed to be closed, including the tourist information center!  But we stopped for a coffee and had a chat with the proprietor and she gave us some encouragement.  And believe it or not, the attendant at the public toilet was a wealth of information and had free maps for us!  Thank God for Chris's prostrate the size of a grapefruit.  So we went to the "Secret Gardens of Sandwich" which were beautiful, and strolled along the town "wall walk" and had a nice lunch before finally calling it a day and heading back to London.  It was a nice little getaway weekend in this nice little country of which we are privileged to be temporary residents.

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On Overload

So much has been happening since I last wrote I don't even think I can write a sensible commentary.

Chris & visited Dorset in September, more specifically the coastal towns of Bournemouth & Poole and had a very nice time.  I can't write a blog about the weekend, however, as I took no notes and it was already 6 weeks ago.  In a nutshell:  Bournemouth - pretty touristy, nice hotel, lovely gardens in the middle of town, on the seaside; Poole - much more quaint and pretty, on a harbor, very old, love their pottery.  Oh - and I was convinced that I saw Vanessa Redgrave there.  What Vanessa Redgrave, CBE, would be doing in frumpy clothing sitting on a bench on the Poole Quay (boardwalk) I have no idea, but if it wasn't Vanessa, then she has a twin.  An identical twin.  And even tho' the woman told me directly that she was not Vanessa Redgrave when I asked (oh, yes - I asked), if she had said she was I would've believed her, she looked that much like Vanessa Redgrave, even at close range.  As a matter of fact, I'm convinced that she told me that she was not indeed Vanessa Redgrave, so as not to start a riot of fans right there on the Poole Quay.  Chris & I are fortunate enough to have tickets to see Ms. Redgrave co-starring with James Earl Jones in the West End production of Driving Miss Daisy next weekend.  Perhaps a stage door interrogation following the play is in order.

Anyway.  At the end of September and beginning of October, London - indeed most of the lower UK - was blessed with summer.  Finally.  It was truly glorious weather by any region's standards: blue, cloudless sky and temps hovering right around 80 degrees F or a tad higher.  I took advantage by walking & visiting parks where possible, and Joyce, Jenny & I made a day of it and visited Ham House, a National Trust property in the southwest part of London.  Chris & I also finally made it back to Highgate Cemetery to check out the west side (we saw the east side last summer) and I must say, against most conventional wisdom we both preferred the east side.  You can only visit the west side through a tour group and aren't able to wander around on your own, which might have been why it was less appealing.  Still a beautiful, mysterious place.  Apparently, Highgate was the setting for various B-type vampire & horror movies in the 60's and 70's, and it's completely evident why it would have served as the perfect choice.

On the day that the weather was due to become more seasonable and England-like, Chris, Kyle & I flew off to the US for a visit.  True to form, it was jam-packed.   It unfortunately started with a 5-hour delay at Dulles for Kyle & I as our plane from London was delayed and we missed the connecting flight to Syracuse.  But it was all up hill from there.  We spent 2 days in Liverpool (NY) then drove down to Vestal to our house that we seem to grow to love more the longer we are away from it!  That weekend, the Manning family descended for the annual (when we can pull it off) Early Thanksgiving, and as usual, it was a hoot.  Following that, Chris flew to DC for work and Kyle and I took a road trip to NJ and PA before heading back to Vestal to prepare for the Wronsky's 50th Anniversary dinner, which was a sparkling success.   Then, after the bathrooms were once again clean, beds made up with clean sheets and every last crumb vacuumed away, we all flew down to Washington for a few more days of visiting with the guys before finally flying back to London.  Gosh - it made me tired just to recall all of that!

And speaking of tired, the jet-lag got the better of me on this end of the trip and it seemed to take longer than usual to get back onto GMT.  And now that I finally am, we turn the clocks back this weekend.  Woe is me, right?  Until the next adventure, I will survive!

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The Rest of Summer

18 August:  Eric arrives from US
20 August:  Michael & Sarah arrive from US
20-29 August:  Duck confit sandwich at Borough Market, Holly Bush, Hill Garden & Pergola, Golders Hill Park, Bull & Bush, Hyde Park, the Swan, Imperial War Museum, Museum of London, Three Stags, London Walks (Unexpected Downpour), Market Porter
23 August:  Sue & Sarah go to Richard Ward Salon in Chelsea to have hair done; Sarah gets hair done by Kate Middleton's personal stylist James Pryce; rainiest day so far this summer!  (He loved her dress!  Well done.)
25 August:  Michael & Sarah depart for Austria
29 August:  Eric departs for home
30 August:  Chris departs for US work trip, passes Liz on M1 who is arriving from Heathrow (2 days late - thanks Irene!)
1 September: Chris returns from US
2 September:  Meg & Glenn arrive from US
30 August - 9 September:  The Duke, Holly Bush, Geffrye Museum, Sông Quê, Cristina & Wycliffe, St. Paul's, Southbank, Vinopolis & the Whiskey Exchange, la Ballerina, Chris & Glenn golf at the Belfry, V & A, Hyde Park, the Swan, Notting Hill (fond farewell, Travel Bookshop!), Chris turns 49, Tower of London in the rain (finally see the Crown Jewels!  Kind of unimpressed so glad we weren't waiting 2 hours in a cold rain as others have done), Hung, Drawn & Quartered, Westminster sights, Belgo for dinner (unpleasant diner behind us - there is a story here), Camden Markets for last minute shopping, last stop at Holly Bush and final lamb dinner.  Whew!
9 September:  Liz & Koetz's depart for Heathrow.  Sue enters Betty Ford Clinic.

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Stratford-upon-Avon

I've been compiling a list of recommendations from various sources of places to visit in England, and several different folks suggested Stratford-upon-Avon - which will be referred to here at "SoA" or simply "Stratford".  Hyphens can be such a nuisance.

Stratford is in the Cotswold region (dedicated readers will recall that the Cotswolds are a "An Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty" north & west of London.)  The train from London took about 2 hours, and our hotel (the appropriately named "Shakespeare Hotel") was another one of those lovely old Tudor buildings built in the 16th century and nicely modernized for the 21st.  The first evening there, most shops & sights were closed, but we strolled around and got our first look at Shakespeare's birthplace, which is of course the biggest tourist draw to the city.  One of Chris's colleagues had recommended an Italian restaurant and it was fabulous - so fab in fact that it was our dinner spot for both nights.  (Well, it was fab, and we found all of our other choices booked the second night, so it worked out well.)

Saturday morning showed the promise of sun and off we went to explore the Home of the Bard.   First stop was the afore-mentioned Birthplace, and it was pretty neat.  Will was born to John & Mary Shakespeare; Dad was a glove-maker and married Mary Arden, who's childhood farm is another historic sight nearby.  The date of his birth (23 April, 1564) is estimated by the recorded date of his baptism; it's known that back then a child was typically baptized within 2-4 days of its birth (unless the poor thing was sickly - then it happened asap!) Will grew up in SuA, and at the age of 18 married the 26-year-old Anne Hathaway, who was - gasp - already with child!  I was a bit disappointed in this fact not because baby was already on the way (I mean, really - who am I to judge?) but because it ensures that the movie "Shakespeare in Love" (one of my favorites) is a complete work of fiction, rather than just a partial work of fiction.  **Sigh**  Anyhoo... Will went on to do all sorts of remarkable things, such as become the greatest writer in the English language.  His plays were being staged in London by 1592 and he spent his career between Stratford & London, where his company founded and constructed the Globe Theatre.  He lived out his days at New Place, the second largest home in Stratford, and died on 23 April, 1616 -  his 52nd birthday.

After the Birthplace, our 3-in-1"Shakespeare Birthplace Trust" ticket gained us entrance to Nash's House & New Place, and Hall's Croft. Nash's house is the still-standing next-door neighbor to New Place, and is a museum; New Place is a very interesting work in progress: the final home of WS, it's currently being excavated, centuries after having been demolished in about 1760.  Hall's Croft was the home of Will & Anne's daughter Susanna and her husband John Hall;  a "croft" is an enclosed area of land.  It's an interesting period home - the Halls were quite wealthy - with really lovely gardens.  In order to bring things full circle, our last stop of the day was the Holy Trinity Church, the final resting place of the Beloved Playwright.  It's on a very quiet and beautiful spot along the River Avon, and I think honors him well.

After a little siesta back at the hotel, we went to meet Mr. Josiah Grubb, guide for our evening's Stratford Ghost Walk, and he was delightful.  We ended up revisiting many of the spots we'd seen earlier in the day, but gained new ethereal insights.  Then it was back to Sorrento, where they already knew our name, and yummy Italian fare, of the Stratfordian ilk.  Sunday found us shopping in a colorful street market, then to the Royal Shakespeare Company for a behind-the-scenes tour, which was really interesting.  The RSC is home to one of the most - if not the most - prestigious Shakespeare companies in Britian; it's been burned down and rebuilt and currently produces multiple Shakespeare productions each year, featuring such notables as Dame Judi Dench, Sir Patrick Stewart, and Sir Ian McKellan.  When we were there, Macbeth was playing, but at a running time of 2:50, we wisely decided that Josiah Grubb was more our speed.

Statford-upon-Avon holds a worthy spot on our list of recommendations.  And so alas, parting in such sweet sorrow, I leave you better a witty fool than a foolish wit; but surely you know that despite the fact that our revels are now ended, we can always be assured that all's well that ends well.  So until next time, my friends... "A horse! A horse!  My kingdom for a horse!"  I know, I know.... "I must be cruel, only to be kind."  And...  oh forget it.  You get the drift.

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Quand les Proches Entré - Deuxième Partie

Oh man, this one will be tough.  Paris seems like a lifetime ago at this point!  But I will do my best to remember the highlights, the first of which occured before we even left London.  We were nearly "down one Grampa" as Nicole so aptly put it, as after we all got off of the tube at St. Pancras station on the way to the train, Sam didn't realize we'd all exited and was still in the carriage after the rest of us had gotten off and the tone was sounding for the doors to close.  Fortunately we saw him just in the knick of time - it was the crowded morning rush hour - and he made it off in time.  Had he not... well, let's just say the Eurostar waits for no one.  Fortunately, it didn't come to that.

Dad was the only one in our group who had never been to the "City of Lights", but we all saw many sights for the first time.  We arrived in the early afternoon on a Wednesday and checked into a wonderful hotel, just steps away from the National Assembly and within a 5 minute walk of the Place de la Concorde.  The skies were questionable to begin with and we started off for lunch in a bit of a shower, but by the end of the day we were clear and dry.  We walked quite a bit - as you do in Paris - and made it to the Notre Dame Cathedral just before it closed for the day.  On the way back to the hotel we stopped for a libation and ordered a cheese board to share at the table.  Sam declared the butter the best cheese on the plate (he really did think it was cheese - must be something in the French milk) so we dubbed it "le beurre fromage" and had a good laugh.  Dinner that evening was fantastic - a bistro in walking distance with wonderful service, terrific food, and even an English menu.

The next day was Bastille Day, and we were lucky enough to catch a bit of the air show and parade right near our hotel.  We then were on the march once again, and headed for le Jardin & le Palais du Luxumbourg.  Mon Dieu, were they beautiful, and well worth the trek.  Also worth the trek was where we went for lunch afterwards: the "Académie de la Bière".  My guidebook had recommended it, and the gendarmes outside of the palace had heard of it, but they gave us directions European-style.  In other words - no sense of distance.  Cinq minutes turned into trente minutes, but at least we were going in the right direction.  Good beer and good food and a good resting spot.  Dinner that night was a bit more of a challenge - no English menu and not many English speakers, so we took the waiter's suggestion and ordered a price-fixed chef's menu for the table.  Smart move.  We might not have been able to name everything we ate, but we can definitely say it was delish.  And what better way to end a French dinner but with fireworks over the Eiffel Tower?  We only caught the tail end but it appeared to be an amazing finale to Bastille Day.

Our final day was picture perfect, just right for a stroll down the Champs-Elysées to the Arc de Triomphe followed by a river cruise on the Seine.  Unfortunately we were on a boat with a roof, which would've been great if it was raining; in our case it prohibited us from really being able to see some of the sights being spoken about in our audio guide.  Oh well... c'est la vie.  Still fun.  Our last meal wasn't a great way to end the trip, due to Chris getting into an argument with the waiter over our credit card use (or banning there-of), but the friendly receptionist at our hotel had us smiling again when we went back to pick up our luggage, and all was set right again.  Two and a half days is simply not enough for Paris - even if you've been before - but even a short trip can pack quite a punch and we all had a great time.

The family's final days in rainy/sunny London were spent at the Churchill Museum/Cabinet War Rooms, and a trip to Harrods along with half the population of the universe.  We did find by default a wonderful little pub in Kensington that had a limited menu of pub-fare pure and simple but it was really good.  And our Irish barmaid was a hoot so it was a good choice of spots to come into out of the rain.  We also squoze (squeezed?) in an early 21st birthday celebration for Kyle plus another dinner of lamb, so our companty left us with some yummy food memories to think about the next day when they were presented their airline choice of chicken or pasta, wrapped in plastic.

We are expecting a whole new slew of company during the second half of August and first part of September; I've thought of hanging a "No Vacancy" sign outside on the balcony but it could send the wrong message to the neighbors.  We're getting pretty good at making the Full English, so maybe considering opening a Bed & Breakfast is in order...   Contact me for availability and online booking options!

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