London

Oysters, mash, mushy peas, bubble and squeak, The Eye, the tube, and Very Posh Bangers.

Wednesday, September 19

After we arrived from Spain, I reshuffled my luggage (out with the swimsuit, in with the jeans) and was ready for London the next morning. I met Roch and Sue at the local station and we rode the metro together to Gare du Nord. The station was as chaotic as always, but this time I was prepared for the grumpy British passport control and passed with flying colors.

Coincidentally, we were seated on the same coach, but Roch and Sue got off early in Ashford to visit with Dave's granddad Bob and I continued to London.

Sue bought me a handy travel guide for the city, but I honestly had no idea what I wanted to do there. Big Ben maybe. I just knew that I wanted to visit my friend Adam and see some of London.

Once I got to the city, I followed Adam's instructions and bought an Oyster, which is a pre-paid fare card for the tube. I felt kind of silly walking up to the ticket window and asking "Is this where I can buy an Oyster?"

After only a few missteps I figured out the tube and had found myself at Liverpool Street, where Adam walked from work and met me. He collected my luggage (the dear) and I was free to roam London for the rest of the afternoon.

The first thing I did was hunt down some lunch. I settled on a modern sushi chain on Liverpool Street called Itsu. I was surprised to find Itsu touting the health benefits of its food. I thought sushi was already pretty healthy, but Itsu made point of letting you know that they were super duper healthy. No mayo crab! Only 110 calories! Etc.

Ok, whatever, I just wanted sushi. But what makes this story great is that later in the day, Adam's friends told me that an Itsu restaurant is where that Russian spy was radiation poisoned last year. Whoaaaa. Maybe the sushi isn't so healthy after all!

I wasn't entirely sure what I wanted to do for the rest of the day, so I finally decided on something easy and took the tube to the Millennium Bridge, a footbridge over the Thames. I'd heard of the Millennium Bridge only because when it opened in 2000, it swayed so badly that people were scared of it. So I was ready for action, but they'd since reinforced the bridge and alas, no swaying.

At the end of the bridge I found myself at the foot at the Tate Modern, which was on my list of Things I'm Not Interesting in Seeing. But I only had an hour or so before meeting Adam, and admission was free, so I figured why not.

It was definitely worth the price of admission, considering I was only there for 30 minutes. I zipped around and saw a Magritte, a few Miros, a Pollack, and Monet, which was unexpected for a modern art museum.

After that I was late, so I scooted back to the tube and met Adam back at Liverpool Street. I received a privileged tour of his office, then we met some of his colleagues (all Americans) and their respective girlfriends and wives at a local pub for drinks.

I was in London from Wednesday to Saturday, and each progressive night the after-work crowd at the pubs grew larger. By Friday night I was stopping to stare at the crowds on the sidewalks outside pubs, holding beers and slapping backs. Is this really what everyone does every night??

Anyway, after drinks we had dinner at a great place called Sausage and Mash, or S&M. Hah! It was right up Dave's alley and I wished he was there with me. I had a pork and apple sausage, a duck and apricot sausage, and bubble and squeak mash. Bubble and squeak, I almost fell out of my chair with giggles. Coincidentally, Suzie had taught me about bubble and squeak while we were in Spain, so I was familiar with the concept (fried leftover vegetables from Sunday's roast). But the name still put me in fits.

Thursday, September 20

I began Thursday by wandering the area around Adam's apartment. He lives only a 10 minute walk from work, in a fascinating corner of town that manages to be both punk and professional at the same time. His place is located above a chic office furniture store and a zen energy center, within a stone's throw of dozens of swank restaurants and hip clothing stores I'd never heard of.

Here are two weird things about London:

1. It's darned near impossible to find a trash can in the city. Adam says that this is thanks to the IRA. So on numerous occasions I found myself carrying empty paper coffee cups all over the city until, in desperation, I begged a store clerk or barista to take them off my hands. I can't believe the city isn't dirtier with abandoned litter.

2. It's also difficult to find a crosswalk. I found this strange for a large city, people just darting back and forth whenever they saw an opening. Even kids. Doesn't that seem dangerous?

However, when there were designated places to cross, the street was printed with handy messages along the same lines as the ever-famous "MIND THE GAP". (Side note: Grant says that the gaps in Paris are much bigger, and no one is telling anyone to mind those. Typical French.)

With the traffic being backward in England and all, I came to rely heavily on these friendly little messages. Look right, HELLO, there's a double-decker bus about to plow you over!

Anyway.

Dave's Uncle Peter and Aunt Jeanette (family history: this Uncle Peter is Sue's brother) had invited me to their place for lunch, so I hopped on a train and rode it 25 minutes to the suburb of Bushy. Peter met me at the platform and brought me back to the house to pick up Jeanette, then off to a neighboring village for lunch.

By the way, if the French countryside is like an impressionist painting, the London suburbs are like a Harry Potter book. Peter and Jeanette think they might even have filmed some of the movies in the area.

After lunch Peter brought me back to the station just in time to catch the train back to London. From there I decided to take their suggestion and visit Trafalgar Square. I was surprised to find there a lomography photo exhibit. We just received a lomography camera from my friend Terry, and I happened to have it with me. I was pretty excited about the coincidence and opportunity to take a photo of the lomography exhibit with my lomography camera. That is, until I realized that I was fresh out of film. Bummer.

Next I walked to Piccadilly Circus, which is supposed to be London's version of Times Square. I guess it would be more like Times Circle, because the whole thing is centered around a roundabout. It was there that I met Adam after work, and we continued to walk around the area. Eventually we passed through a park and found ourselves at Buckingham Palace. I took some pictures, and we might have seen the Queen and her royal entourage pull in, but we couldn't be certain. After this it was nearly nightfall, so we visited Adam's favorite Vietnamese place for dinner. Yum!

Friday, September 21

So some time a few weeks ago Adam and I had this crazy idea to make paella during my visit. I can't remember whose idea it was, but naturally the cry for homemade sangria followed.

So when I woke up on Friday morning, I had a seafood shopping list and the address for a fish market in my inbox from Adam. So with his spare A to Z (which is a book containing detailed maps of the city...if you've ever visited us we might have lent you the Paris equivalent, which we call by the less creative manufacturer's name "Michelin") in hand I set out to find the fish man.

Please hold the jokes about women and directions because I got lost within half a block of Adam's apartment. Back and forth, back and forth, scrutinizing the A to Z with every step. But finally I was on the right path and found the Leadenhall Market and the fish guy. I bought some prawns and scallops and walked back to throw everything in the refrigerator.

Adam took half the day off hang out with me, so I met him shortly thereafter and we went out for fish and chips (one of the few things on my List of Things to Do) at the famous shop The Golden Hind. History lesson from Adam, (which I believe started as a history lesson from his mom): The Golden Hind was the name of Sir Francis Drake's ship.

So I had fish and chips and mushy peas, a classic English lunch. Mushy peas are great, not only in taste, but in vibrant green, almost artificial-looking color and fun name. The English really know how to name stuff.

As we ate lunch I noticed that the Cordon Bleu cooking school was just across the street. One of Adam's colleague's wives, who I'd met Wednesday night, was a student there. And sure enough, we eventually spotted her outside the school on a smoking break. So we walked over to say hi and "grill" (hah hah) her on what she was making that day.

"I just got yelled at for talking to another student" Kate complained, rolling her eyes. "I was talking about sorbet, but I guess that doesn't matter because today we're making beef tornedos". Cooking students have the most interesting classes. Kate knows how to kill a live crab with a pin, how to cook every cut of beef (even though she's vegetarian), and what mace is. I was so impressed.

Anyway after we left Kate, Adam and I proceeded to Westminster Abbey. We got there at 3:40 and just barely made it in before they closed for the day. We each paid 10 pounds to get in, and then photos weren't allowed! I did a bit of grumbling about Notre Dame being free and you can take all the photos you want, but whatever, Westminster Abbey was still beautiful, even if I can't share pictures of everything inside.

We saw the resting places of a number of kings, queens, and a bunch of other famous people. The oldest we saw was from the 1200s, possibly Edward the Confessor (what a great name, but I bet he didn't think so).

From there we walked past Big Ben ("Look kids! It's Big Ben!"), along the river and past The Eye, the giant ferris wheel, before heading back to Adam's apartment.

Despite our exhaustion from the hike and my reservations about our cooking skills, we put together a surprisingly tasty paella. We didn't have a paella pan, or even a big frying pan, so we made it in one of Adam's brewing pots. And and and Adam made fantastic sangria.

After dinner we flopped down in the living room, in the haze of paella smells, and watched Total Recall on tv. Adam totally takes English-speaking television for granted.

Saturday, September 29

I had some time before my train left, so Adam took me to an incredible market in the city. It was like the Ann Arbor Farmer's Market times 100. All kinds of fun cheeses, pastries, and chocolate. At one stand I bought a cup of hot cider, which, upon finishing, I realized contained alcohol. Buzzed before noon. Nice.

I bought some fun stuff called mushroom pate and some cheese for Dave. We sat on a door stop in the morning sun and shared an apple strudel and talked about the ideal place for him to open a brewery. I selfishly wished he'd never leave London so I could come back to that place again and we could share pastries and talk about stuff.

While we wandered our way out of the market I saw this great sign. Who could resist Very Posh Bangers in a bap for only 3 pounds 50?

On the way back to the apartment we passed over Tower Bridge, which is not to be mistaken for the London Bridge. Which, Adam reminds me, fell down. We did pass over the new and improved London Bridge earlier in my trip, but it wasn't very interesting.

We also passed by the Tower of London and waved hello to the Crown Jewels from the outside. I guess I'll save that one for my next trip.

Back to the apartment for my luggage, then off to Waterloo to catch my train. Goodbye to Adam, goodbye to London, goodbye to the English language for a while. It was a nice break, and I do love the way the English name stuff.