London Day 2–In Which I am Charmed by Signage, We Visit Charles Dickens’ House,and The British Museum Gets it Really Wrong.

London is full of amazing, awe-inspiring sights that we tourists love to flock to, cameras in hand, clutching our maps and guide books. Make no mistake, I love that side of London, and plan to see several of those sights while I’m here. But I find it’s often the smaller things that leave a deeper impression, and London is full of them. Today we set out to discover the secrets of London’s hotbed of literary heritage, Bloomsbury. Laid out with beautiful squares, and charming architecture, this part of London is full of references to Charles Dickens, T.S. Elliott, Sylvia Plath, Virginia Woolf, George Orwell, and many others. I didn’t tell the kids what we were up to, as, curiously, they seem to glaze over whenever I get going on about how Sir Whatsit once stood on this place while contemplating his lunch or Lady Whoever once purchased a case of nose hair clippers from a hosier on this site in 1732. Can’t think why…

But fortunately, we had planned to start the day with a visit with our dear friend Lila and her little guy. We haven’t seen them in a few months since they moved back to London, so it was great to catch up.

Fortunately for Zoe, we found these massive meringues at the restaurant.

Makes my teeth hurt just looking at it but they are her favourite.

Next was a wander to Russell Square where I was thrilled to see my old friends June and Tony, (see previous blogs from June 2011) sitting with their two friends, Ivy and Bob from Bognor Regis who had come up for a day’s outing to London.

That’s June and Tony on the right. They were whiling away the hours watching pigeons. Too bad I didn’t get close enough to hear what they were talking about. The price of a roast in Bognor Regis? Last week’s meeting of the Lesser Pooting library council? (the minutes are posted outside the church hall). Who knows. They were certainly vey relaxed in their sensible shoes and protective headwear. Good on them. I’m sure I’ll see them again as they seem to be everywhere.

I did manage to engage Jacob when I pointed out the art deco building that used to house the Ministry of Information during WWII. George Orwell’s wife worked there and Orwell is said to have become so disillusioned with the censorship that occurred, that he was inspired to write his novel Nineteen Eighty-Four.

It does look rather imposing.

We walked the streets for a while and everyone politely listened as I went on and on about Virginia Woolf this and John Nash that.

Another thing I love about England is the hilarious nature of their signage.

I haven’t seen one that starts off with ‘Rude Notice’. I mean how cute is this?

This one might be my favorite though

It made me wonder what they would have said next if given the chance:

Perhaps a succession of signs:

“It was planted in 2008, but was struck by a lorry in December of 2009 and has never really recovered”

“We did try everything possible to save this tree”

“Well, perhaps we could have done more but we have been busy with other things”

“Actually, we definitely could have done more, we’re just lazy tits”

“We deeply regret not having taken more decisive action regarding the health of this tree, and would like to announce our resignation”

“A sub-committee on the use of appropriate signage to inform the public in a more detailed manner of the deteriorating tree and events leading up to such demise, has been struck. Thank you for your patience”

Next was the Charles Dickens Museum which is located in the only one of his many residences to still stand. We didn’t actually go up into the museum as walking in the door was enough for me,  but we did visit the gift shop where I was pleased to see that amongst the usual tat, one could purchase a Charles Dickens Action Figure.

The kids were actually quite interested to know that he had sat in these very rooms and written Oliver Twist, The Pickwick Papers and Nicholas Nickleby. Zoe bought herself a quill and ink so I’m hoping she was suitably inspired to write her own masterpiece.

We still had time for a quick trip to the British Museum and walked the few blocks to it only to find a harassed security man yelling at everyone to ‘GO BACK’ while sweeping us off to the side so that we couldn’t enter. Apparently some idiot had left a bag unattended, which is a huge no-no here, and so some poor sod of a policeman was having a look through it while we all stood by wondering what might happen next. Especially confused were the folks exiting the building only to be told by Security Guy to “GO BACK”. After a few minutes of puzzled expressions, he changed it to “GO OVER"’ which worked a little better. Eventually, nothing happened, and we all went in.

We sprinted through a few exhibits on our way to check out the Lindol Man, whose 2000yr old body was found perfectly preserved in a bog. The tannins in the peat moss has turned his skin to leather, and he still had his hair. He was missing a few limbs but all in all was quite impressive.

We then moved on to the Mexican Aztec room where there were some really good skulls decorated with turquoise and gems, but on the way we went through the First Nations of BC section, where I saw this below a totem from Gwaii Hanaas:

Excuse me but WHAAAA??

Since when have the Haida people been from Alaska so WRONG on that one and then Hey! England! BC is actually the on the West Coast of CANADA! Jeeeesus. The Northwest Coast of America??? Where’s that? Washington State? Ain’t no Haida there.

Seriously made me wonder what else they got wrong in this big ole’ museum. If the only thing that I can speak with any authority on is wrong, then maybe the Lindol Man is actually a stuffed gorilla that fell out the back of a lorry in 1972 and nobody ever noticed.

Anyway. I just hope they got the Rosetta Stone bit right.

I was pleased to see that there were directions to enlightenment, something I’ve been looking for, but I unfortunately didn’t have time, so we left, and went to get some dinner in Camden Town by the locks.

Charming.

Cheap and delicious.

A suggestion that I should be living here?

Another fabulous day.

Thanks for reading!

Cheers,

Jane

London Day 1– In Which Air Canada Serves up Nastiness, Clive is Unimpressed, and Everything Comes Up Roses.

Today was a bit ridiculous. It started at 6am and included a car ride, ferry, bus, skytrain, 5 hr flight to Toronto, a mad sprint to meet our connection, another 7 hr flight to London, where of course the trains weren’t running so, instead, we enjoyed 19 stops on the underground, and then finished up the whole thing in a bit of a daze wandering around Islington trying to find our apartment.

I am going to go out on a limb here and blame some of my lack of brain power on Air Canada who contributed to my low blood sugar levels by serving an almost inedible dinner on the flight to London.

What is that, you ask? I don’t know. It’s unclear. The flight attendant called it ‘chicken’ but I like to call it “MeatStuff in a Blood Sauce, with Pasta Dots". It was as nasty as it looks and we didn’t eat it.

Good thing Jacob had a tube of Pringles.

At any rate, the plane was packed with a rich cast of characters including the fascinating We-Don’t-Travel-Much Family from Portugal which consisted of Mum, Dad, and 14 yr old, 180lb Paolo who didn’t understand how to use headphones, and was wearing his shorts on inside out, a fact of which I became aware after noticing his label hanging out the back of his shorts as he speed walked up and down the aisle looking for somewhere for his family to stow their SIX carry on suitcases. (Dear Air Canada, maybe don’t let people bring two huge suitcases each on to the plane. Maybe they could, oh I don’t know, check them? Just a thought. Oh you thought of that too? You’re going to turn off the plane and let us all wait while you take the suitcases out of the cabin and stow them in the baggage hold? Oh good, glad I could help you think that one through.)

And then there was the large Englishman (I’ll call him Clive) who fancied himself a member of the upper class who had fallen on hard times and was left with no choice but to mix with the unwashed masses in economy class:

Me: smiling at everyone as they file past me to their seats

Clive: (lumbering past me with some difficulty) Well, at least you’re sitting down.

Me: Mmmmm yes

Clive: Bloody Air Canada have us all in here like pigs to the slaughter. I’ll not fly them again.

Me: No…not if we’re going to the slaughter…

Passenger just ahead trying to stuff a HUGE suitcase in the overhead bin: Do you mind if I just put this here for…

Clive: You can do whatever you like as long as you get out of my way, my man.

Passenger: oh…well I was going to try and fit this violin in here…

(Violin falls out of overhead bin in front of Clive)

Clive: Well done well done lets hope that’s not a Stradivarius.

Passenger: Why is there NO ROOM ON THIS PLANE.

Clive: are there any stawf on this plane? Stawf? STAWF!

Me: I don’t think they can get through…

Clive: Bloody HOPELESS. (stomps off in a huff and hurls himself into what appears to be the closest available seat

Another passenger, to his wife: It’s alright he can have it.

Once we got off the plane, it was good to see my mum waiting for us at the airport. All this travel had somehow taken 24 hours, as well as taking most of our ability to observe anything, it seemed, and so by the time we did eventually get to our apartment we were so out of it, that we didn’t even notice that we were walking right through the middle of a movie set. At one point, I did wonder what all these people with all their equipment were doing in my way on the sidewalk but I did not seem able to put the pieces together and had to be told by the owner of the apartment that it was actually a movie set.  He rattled off the name of the director (David Hare) and the TV series they were filming (Worricker) all of which meant nothing to me until I googled it and learned that Bill Nighy, Ralph Fiennes, and Helena Bonham Carter were all in it. I especially love Bill Nighy for his role as Philip in Shawn of the Dead and was looking forward to seeing him. Unfortunately none of them made an appearance, but I did get to see several other actors in action on the set. Or rather, inaction, sitting around for long periods of time, and then repeating a 20 second scene eight times over. I guess I would put up with that if I was getting paid ridiculous amounts of money too.

Standing around…

Filming the “getting in to the car” scene for the 100th time. I felt like opening the window and yelling HURRY IT UP I DON’T HAVE ALL DAY.

I went back inside and checked out the apartment instead. Nice.

Zoe was SO TIRED.

After all falling asleep for several hours, we woke up hungry and went in search of groceries. Our awesome apartment is in the Borough of Islington, which is about 10 minutes out of London on the tube. It’s a beautiful cool, leafy area full of gardens and flowers. It’s the height of rose season around here and the garden walls were overflowing

Once again, London is fabulous!

More tomorrow.Thanks for reading-

Cheers,

Jane

Hawaii Day 11 In Which Caroline and Gaby won’t Shut Up, and People Pass Out Left and Right

4:30 came very early but somehow we made it, with Mr. Chatty the taxi driver delivering us to the airport with a running commentary on the population breakdown of Oahu which would probably have been far more interesting at any other time of day, but I did remember him saying that the population of Honolulu is one million, and that 80K of that is military personnel. That strikes me as amazing now, but I think I could only manage a very small head nod at the time. Sorry Mr. Chatty. Maybe he thought I was speechless with interest.

The first flight to San Francisco was without incident except that we had four year old twins Caroline and Gaby in front of us, who were very cute except when Caroline was getting upset with Gaby for sitting in such a way that she couldn’t see out the window. Never mind that Gaby couldn’t either as they were both in the centre section of the seats.

Caroline: I can’t see out Gaby is in THE WAY

Gaby: I am not

Lise (the mum): Caroline please be quiet Gaby can’t help where she sits

Caroline: but I want to see out the window THAT WAY

Lise: Well look out the window by Daddy and Reese

Caroline: NO I WANT TO LOOK OUT THAT WAY AND GABY IS IN THE WAY!

Gaby: I AM NOT!

Lisa: Who wants a donut?

CAroline: I DON’T WANT A DONUT I WANT A SEE THAT WAY! WAAAHHHH WAHHHHHHHHHH WAHHHHH

Lise: Trevor can you give Reece this donut?

Caroline: WAHHHWAHHHHHWAHHHHHWAHHHHWAHHH

Gaby: I’ll have the chocolate sprinkles.

Caroline: I WANT THE CHOCOLATE SPINKLES (sic) I WANT THE CHOCOLATE SPINKLES WAHHHWAHHHWA HWAHHHWAHHHH GABY IS IN MY WAY!!

Lise: Trevor, pass me my eye patch and those earplugs, would you?

Me: Seriously?

Gaby: snoring

Lisa: Snoring

Trevor: Snoring

Reece: Snoring

Caroline: WAHHHAWHWWHAHHHWHHAHHWHAAAA

Needless to say we were all thrilled when Caroline fell asleep too.

We were not thrilled however, when the plane landed and we were all in that twilight zone of waiting for them to open the damn doors, and poor Reece passed out right in front of me. Just keeled over, out cold, right in the aisle. Everyone freaked out, I pressed the call button a bunch of times and then just resorted to yelling “HEY WE NEED SOME HELP DOWN HERE”. The flight attendants wandered back but of course the doors were still closed so everyone was milling around in the aisles getting in the way trying to get their bags etc. Trevor picked up his son and lay him down on some seats, and I tried to get a barf bag ready for the poor kid but couldn’t find one, at which point he promptly threw up everywhere (Reece, not his dad). I escaped relatively unscathed, and spent a few moments trying to calm down Caroline and Gaby while Lise freaked out everywhere. Thankfully the doors were opened a few minutes later and we could all leave. Poor Reece was looking a little better by then but had to stay on the plane and wait for the medical staff to arrive. It was some time before we saw them leave the gate area, Reece in a wheelchair, Caroline and Gaby running ahead trying to push each other off the moving walkway. I could hear Gaby saying “ Caroline said I called her stupid by accident. I DID NOT”. Yep, that’s right Caroline, Gaby meant to call you stupid, it was no accident.

We had to hang around in San Fran for a few hours so we found a quiet spot and laughed at all the tourists who had face masks and eye patches and their sweaters and jackets draped completely over their heads and bodies while they slept.

They’re probably going to be laughing long after I’m dead from catching Ebola or Hemorrhagic fever from contaminated plane air that’s been recirculating since 1962.

Umm excuse me. You have your sweater on your head.

On the flight to Victoria, Zoe and I were happily sitting watching Star Wars, in our usual seats at the very back of the plane, beside the washroom, when Kent pointed out that there was a women sitting down in the bathroom with the door open. I looked over to see a very pale woman, sweating profusely (the woman, not me), sitting on the toilet (seat down) and looking like she was going to pass out. At this point I was starting to wonder if it was me. What was going on?

I started pushing the call button, and the sole attendant eventually made her way to the back after I began waving my arms up and down and pointing into the washroom. The poor woman (Leslie) was looking terrible by now and so I had her put her head down while I rearranged myself so that I could catch her if she keeled over. I wasn’t going to be caught unawares this time. I even had my barf bag at the ready. The flight attendant was marginally helpful and produced a wet cloth and some ice for the woman and told her to put it on the back of her neck. It seemed to me like this might constrict blood flow to her head even further so I suggested she just mop her forehead with it and keep her head down. I think she actually needed oxygen and to lie down but that wasn’t going to happen. We toughed it out until she felt a bit better and the flight attendant helped her back to a couple of empty seats where she could sort of lay down. Poor thing sat there looking pale and sweaty for the rest of the flight and was also taken off in a wheelchair like Reece.

I was glad to get home in one piece.

In Waikiki, in an effort to keep the Hawaiian language alive, they have stamped the sidewalk stones with Hawaiian word and their meanings. Smart.

 

Thanks for reading,

Cheers,

Jane

Hawaii Day 10: In Which I Find the Death Star, Your A$$ is Calling, and The Trump Tower Sucks.

The day before our last day was mostly spent in denial that we only had two days left. So we went shopping, and not to the beach. I’m not sure why. It was all extremely fancy and overpriced, but I did find this Lego Death Star, which was AWESOME.

See Luke and Leia in the garbage room? C3-PO and R2 are on another level, and Darth is up on top. Pretty much anyone who is anyone in Star Wars is here on the Death Star. I want one for my birthday please.

We did come to our senses in the afternoon and spent it at the beach, and the pool, which we thought was our pool, but was actually the pool for the hotel next door, The Modern. But they didn’t mind too much after we all ordered $15 cocktails. Or mocktails in my case. This place had a great pool and bar which became our happy hour locale each day. If ever we lost a member of our group, they could usually be found at The Modern having a drink and lounging on one of the poolside beds. The place attracted a younger crowd, as evidenced by the message we found on one of the loungers

It says “Is your butt butt-dialing me cause that ass is calling”. Quite clever, I thought. Not sure when I would actually say it, as I suspect it would sound ridiculous coming from me. I would have to be 6ft tall and all curvy and probably African-American to really deliver that line properly.

The sunset was wicked that night from our balcony.

After dark, we went out for stroll, and found ourselves at the new Trump Tower Hotel. I had heard it was absolutely amazing, so we went in, prepared to be floored, and came out bored. Underwhelming, Mr.Trump.

This was the pool. Lame.

I’ll take the Moana Surfrider any day over the Trump. Beautiful original woodwork and a fantastic pool and bar right on the beach.

We also found this fabulous tea and gelato store where we all refueled on matcha and passion fruit gelato, and pomegranate green tea. So good.

Americans are funny about their tea. They don’t quite get it. you have to specify ‘hot’ tea when you order your morning tea otherwise you get a glass of cold unsweetened tea. It’s a bit weird. Tea is already hot. They don’t make you ask for hot toast. Not yet anyway. Could you do something about the hot tea thing, America? Pass an amendment that makes it unlawful to not understand that tea is already hot?

Actually, don’t worry about the tea/toast thing. Please focus on doing something about all the guns first. And good luck with that. Stupid NRA.

You’re welcome.

It is possible to walk several miles at night in Waikiki there is that much going on. It’s kind of awesome. But also tiring, so we found our way back to the condo, and collapsed into bed.

Thanks for reading,

Cheers,

Jane

Hawaii Day 9 In Which We Soak Up the Hawaii Five-0 Vibe

Back when I was trying to find somewhere to stay in Waikiki, I happened upon a listing for a condo at the Ilikai Hotel. I’ve always wanted to stay at here so I was super happy to find a condo with three bedrooms that would fit us all nicely. I got happier and happier to learn first that it was an ocean view condo, and then that it was actually on the top floor of the hotel. It was the freakin penthouse! And not just any penthouse, but the iconic penthouse of Hawaii Five-0 fame, where Jack Lord stands on the balcony and the helicopter zooms in to take a shot of him.

Check this out on YouTube:

The condo is probably one of the best places I’ve ever stayed: sweeping views of Waikiki and the pacific, a cool seventies feel to the place with original avocado appliances, floor to ceiling  windows and mirrors and cool marble tile floors. We kept expecting to see Hugh Hefner sitting in one of the lounge chairs or anyone in a white suit surrounded by scantily clad women.

I must admit to being a little worried when I booked the place as I have a bit of an issue with heights, as you may have gathered reading previous posts from me. I had a little talk with myself about not being a complete idiot and that I MUST NOT inflict my fears on my kids, and to generally just get a grip. I listened to myself for about 5 seconds, and then decided to go straight to the inflicting, by begging/lecturing/ordering everyone to follow a list of rules regarding the deck, me, and the 26 floors below.

1. do not joke about jumping over the railing.
2. do not pretend to push, throw, jostle, nudge, or chuck anyone or anything over the railing.
3. do not pretend to trip and fall thereby hurling yourself over the railing.
4. do not even talk about doing any of these activities anywhere where I can hear you.
5. do not exchange eye-rolling with another member of the group if you see me crawling around on the floor.
6. do not shake your head and walk off muttering rude things about me if you see me bent over with my arms outstretched, white-faced, and lurching back into the condo.
7. do not try to bribe me to come out on the deck.
8. do not hide somewhere on the deck and then make a loud screaming noise that gets progressively quieter.
9. do not play Blind Man’s Bluff on the deck.
10. do not use the deck chair as a pretend springboard.

Having read everyone the Riot Act, I was pleasantly surprised to see that the nice people who had designed the Ilikai back in 1963, had with the exception of one corner, installed a very solid-looking three foot wide ledge all the way around the building just below the deck so that it was not necessary to look straight down into the swirling depths of the building. This was extremely thoughtful of them and made it so that I could actually manage to walk out on the deck, and even hold on to the railing without looking like I had just been dug up from my grave.

I still felt like the entire world had spun off its axis if I was out there for too long.

The best comment came from Silas, though, who I overheard asking his dad: “Would it be OK, if Jane’s not out here, for me to walk on the ledge?”

Even I had to laugh when I heard that.

Believe it or not, I actually took these photos!

View to the right.

View to the left.

Down to the Lagoon. Yes, it’s on a bit of an angle. Rule #11: Do not mention that my photos from the deck suck.

Straight down to the pool, taken by me holding my camera out over the edge while looking the other way…Still makes me feel queasy to even look at this photo…

Straight ahead, people.

I won’t bore you with anymore pics, as you probably get the idea…

I will mention, however, that I especially enjoyed the elevator that zoomed to the top of the building, zipping past all the other floors on its way to ‘PH’.

I also enjoyed this sign in the elevator  for the local coffee shop, where, apparently, they don’t serve coffee, and also, they don’t roast themselves. What a relief.

 

Needless to say, we were diggin’ this sweet place on top of the world and I plan to retire here as soon as possible.

Thanks for reading,

Cheers,

Jane

Hawaii Day 8 – In Which We Say Goodbye to the Surfboard, and Say Hello to the Sun.

Our last day on Kauai was bittersweet. I do love it there, and there is something to be said for returning to the same place to really gain a sense for how a place changes, and stays the same, over the years.

It’s too bad it rained almost the entire time we were on Kauai, but we still managed to have a great time. Kauai has a laid back, end-of-the-world feel to it that is intoxicating and although it was one of our wettest visits ever, I still felt sad about leaving.

It was raining like crazy when we packed up the cars to head to the airport, but we still had one thing to do before we left. Jacob’s awesome thrift store surfboard had served him well, but was too big to take on the plane, and to expensive to ship home. So we decided to do a little pay-it-forward experiment, and sharpie a message onto it, then leave the board at the beach, with the hopes that someone who wanted/needed it would have the chance to use it while they were on Kauai, then pass it on to someone else.

Nice work, Jacob.

He also put our email address on the board and wrote ‘send me some pics’. It would be really great to actually get a picture from some happy soul.

We left our place a little late and of course the weather was terrible and we got stuck behind a Kauai slowpoke. Traffic on this little island is outrageously bad, but we thought we might be OK at 11am. We were definitely wrong about that and at one point, wondered if we would even make our 1pm flight to Honolulu.

When we finally arrived at the airport at 12:20 pm it was a huge rush to drop off the rental cars and get checked in. We were a sweaty bunch when we were finally all in line. A very long line. We were flying Go! airlines and the line up for the 1pm flight was extremely long. We grew increasingly anxious and fretful until the woman in line behind us casually informed us that Go! Airlines was actually more commonly known in these parts as No Go! Airlines and that it was likely the flight would be at least delayed, if not cancelled. She was a regular interisland flyer and this was her experience. No sooner were the words out of her mouth than a message flashed up on the screen beside our flight informing us it had been delayed to 2:20pm.

Several people in line ahead of us would now miss their connections, stomped off swearing. One woman beside me angrily declared this to be ‘THE FIRST AND LAST TIME’ she would ever fly with Go!

And so we waited and moved our bags .06 of an inch at a time until we were finally able to check in. Then it was off to the equally long line at security. I am very pleased to be able to announce here that we found the leftover New Year’s firecracker in Zoe’s pocket BEFORE we went through security. Yep.

We finally made it to the gate and sat, and sat, and sat, as the flight was delayed and delayed and delayed. It seems that time really does slow down here, and it doesn’t matter where you are in the world, you’re always on Kauai time.

Eventually the flight took off, with us on it, but only because I finally, in the absence of any announcement, went up to the desk and asked if they were boarding our flight yet.

Me: Are you boarding flight 1051 yet? We’ve been waiting forever…

Rachelle: 1051? Go! 1051?

Me: Yes…

Rachelle: They are on final call for flight 1051. It’s almost ready for take off.

Me: Well was someone going to tell us that?

Rachelle: It was announced several times.

Me: Is no one curious why the plane is empty? I think we’re all sitting here waiting. Have been since 1pm as a matter of fact. But no rush really…

Rachelle: Like I said, it’s final call so please have your boarding passes ready and proceed through gate 7a to…

Me: yes yes…

Single mom behind me: Are you going to announce flight 1051 for boarding soon?

Me: See?!

Rachelle: Ma’am it’s final call for…

Single mom: What?!! SARAH, MATTHEW, GET OUR BAGS! NOW!I’m NEVER flying GO! again.

Me: It’s more like GO! figure it all out yourself! or GO! wait over there for 5 hours or GO! find another airline.

Rachelle: Please proceed to ga…

The flight was mercifully short, if held together with paperclips,

and we were soon in Honolulu. We high-tailed it out of there and called a cab to take us to our hotel. We were pleasantly surprised when a huge limo showed up.

This was a far cry from our last hours in Kauai: the sun was out and we were in a limo, and it was all good.

Next up: Our sweet Hawaii 5-0 condo.

Thanks for reading,

Cheers,

Jane