London Thinks It Is California!

So one of the nicest things I discovered about living in a big city is that there is something going on all the time. And one of the worst things I have discovered about living in a city is that very often that something is going on underneath my bedroom window at some ungodly hour of the night. Whether it is the London foxes getting frisky, a stupid car alarm or a few friends on their way home loudly from the pub, I am sometimes awoken at the early hours. Last night it was a couple arguing on the sidewalk outside of our flat. I think they had been walking and stopped in front of our building at the apex of their argument. I couldn't really understand what they were saying only that they were saying it for about 15 minutes or so. Sigh.

So I am awake, it is about 12:30 a.m. - and I can't go back to sleep. I get out the laptop and catch up on my local news and I am going from website to website, reading, looking at pictures of an apparently pregnant Angelina Jolie, when all of the sudden I feel a slow vibration. Living in an apartment you occasionally feel someone walking on the floor but that wasn't it. It continued and got more intense. We are living right next to a building that has been in the midst of a remodel for about 6 months. Monday they started digging a huge hole in the backyard that I can only guess might be for a swimming pool. I also know they have been putting in a basement. So the thought crosses my mind that this building is collapsing and coming down. I am thinking I might have to go and rescue Kiki because her room shares a wall with the remodel, when I realize what it is - an earthquake. In London!

It turns out that this earthquake registered about 5.2 on the richter scale which, not huge by any means, is still respectable for England. In fact it is the largest earthquake in England for about 25 years. Not too much damage when you consider that most of these buildings were built about a zillion years ago and there certainly are no earthquake resistant building requirements or codes here.

It was the talk of the town. I must have overhead a dozen conversations that began with, "so did you feel the earthquake last night" . Truthfully speaking, while it was long I have felt bigger earthquakes before and had I not been up already I don't think this would have woken me up. But quite a few of my friends felt it and the earthquake seemed to get bigger as I talked with them. Some described a gentle rocking while others talked about being violently thrown about, even though these people lived about 2 blocks from each other!

Kiki and Snake are true Californians, they slept right through it. And strangely enough, right after the earthquake I started feeling pretty drowsy myself. Maybe because it was just like home and being rocked to sleep by something comfortable and familiar. Now maybe if I could just find myself a decent inexpensive California sparkling wine here, I could sleep like a baby!!

If You Are Going To Park Your Ferrari on the Street. . . .

Then you need to be available when your car alarm goes off at 3:30 in the morning (for 30 minutes) (twice). I'm just sayin'.

Catching Up

Yikes! I can't believe it has been this long since I have updated. It must be some kind of record. Some kind. Anyhoo, the kids and I have been very busy, here there and almost everywhere. Since we moved here I have been determined to take the kids to the land of their forefathers and foremothers (but no one really ever says that do they?). Of course I speak of the Emerald Isle, Eire, Land of Saints and Scholars - Ireland. We actually went for a long weekend in Dublin and had a blast.

 

Well, except for the night that the fire alarm went off on our floor.  I was very proud of Kiki and Snake - they got right up and were ready to get out the door in about 20 seconds.  Me?  Well, I didn't want to go down to the lobby in my green pjs with the little pink roses no matter how cute they were so I had to change into jeans really quick.  Kiki pointed out she was pretty sure it was a false alarm so she waited with me.  If she thought it were a real fire, she would have left me on my own.  I guess it is every mother for herself!!

In addition to pubs and Irish music, we managed to do some other cultural things. We visited Dublin Castle, which is still used today mostly as a place for the Irish government to hold meetings and important dinners and conferences and such. We went on a very informative tour. There has been a castle or fortress on this site since about 930, so a pretty long time. It has operated as a prison as well. In fact, one of the leaders of the Easter Rising 1916 James Connolly was held in the castle hospital after his arrest. He had been sentenced to death but apparently he had injured his leg/foot/ankle during the hubbub and the British apparently took great pride in not executing an injured or perhaps dying man. So they had to get him healthy enough to kill him. They lost patience and he was eventually put to death by firing squad. He couldn't stand and face the squad because of his leg so he was tied to a chair. There is a plaque commemorating his stay. Interesting side note - the train stations in Dublin are named after some of the leaders of the Easter Rising.

I really wanted the kids to see Blarney Castle but it is some distance from Dublin. It is actually closer to Cork and it takes about 3 hours by train. Well, what kind of a mother would I be if I chose to inflict my wishes on my children without regard to their desires or preferences? I shudder at the thought. So off we went. By train at 7:00 a.m in the morning, a weekend morning. Actually the kid were very good about it and I think they enjoyed seeing the Irish countryside. And they had their Ipods.



Blarney Castle is very picturesque. Although we were there in end of January, the weather was warmer than London and the daffodils were starting to come out. The castle was built by Cormac McCarthy, an Irish chieftain. Legend has it that the Blarney stone is actually part of the Stone of Scone, given to McCarthy by Robert the Bruce as reward for his support during the Battle of Bannockburn. Remember the Stone of Scone? It is the stone that fits under the coronation chair in Westminster Abbey. I wrote about it here . Its nice when things make a complete circle, isn't it? So supposedly this McCarthy fellow was quite the rebel and refused to pay his taxes to the English monarch, Elizabeth I. Elizabeth kept sending guys to get the taxes from him and they kept coming back empty handed. Each time he would send a very long winded speech back having nothing to do with his taxes or his refusal to pay them, just a lot of bull. Finally after one more long winded missive, Elizabeth is said to have declared "oh, this is just a bunch of blarney!" and hence the name, Blarney Castle. Everyone knows the legend, kiss the stone and be awarded the gift of gab. Both Kiki & Snake kissed the stone. It is quite the endeavor, you have to lay on your back, over a ledge of sorts and tilt your head way back. There is a guy there who holds on to you so you don't fall but it is still kind of scary. I have kissed the stone before and thought for the sake of my fellow man I won't try to attain any more gab.

On our little tour, we also stopped at a small village called Cobh, pronounced Cove. It is famous for, remarkably, being connected to two of the worst disasters at sea ever. Cobh was the last port of call for the Titanic before it met its epic end crashing into an iceberg. The "unsinkable" vessel sank in a little over 3 hours after the crash. Approximately 3 years later, Cobh was the place they brought the survivors of the Lusitania, the British ocean liner that was
torpedoed by the Germans in May 1915. This time the boat took about 20 minutes to sink. Twelve hundred people died. Those who were found alive in the water were taken to Cobh. Quite a few of the bodies recovered were buried in the local graveyard. The tour guide asked if we wanted to go to the cemetery and see the grave sites. Is the Pope Catholic? Of course we did!! So we went and sawthe graves. And now you can too! One of the most interesting markers read something like Here Lies Bob Jones "foully murdered by Germany on May 7, 1915". Don't you think it is strange that this little town in Ireland is connected to both of those tragedies? In its day Cobn was the port of call for all those leaving Ireland immigrating to America. They had a very interesting display about the immigration and Ireland.

I thought this old ruin was pretty interesting. It is just by the side of the road. There are loads of these types of ruins throughout Ireland. They probably have some tiny historical connection but no one has kept track or it has been forgotten by now. They just are there, in the middle of fields, at the side of the road. After a while you see so many of them, you don't notice them individually - these 16th, 17th century remains of buildings. When you think about it, these ruins are older than pretty much any building standing in the US today.

We also had a bit of time to fit in some shopping (actually some very good 2008 Christmas shopping - never mind for who!), some cathedral peeping and lunch. On the way back I got to talking to our tour guide and we were discussing Ireland today. I asked him how many people spoke Gaelic today in Ireland. First, he corrected me and told me in Ireland they referred to it as Irish, not Gaelic. He told me that for a while Irish/Gaelic was dying out in every day use. In the early 1800s when the jobs moved from the farms into more urban areas, it was necessary to speak English to get a good job. As more people moved into the city, the only people who really spoke Irish were in the country, the farmers, the poorer folks. Then the potato famine hit. An estimated 1,000,000 people died during the famine and about another 2,000,000 left Ireland to go to Europe, US, and Canada. The hardest hit socio-economic group were the poor country farmfolk. Not only did they rely on the potato for the bulk of their diet, but it was also how they earned their living. The poor were dying off or leaving in droves. That is probably why it took the British so long to respond - because it initially affected mostly the poor. So as a result, Irish as a language started to die out. There simply weren't enough people around speaking the language in every day use. However, recently more and more people are speaking Irish. It is now a compulsory language in school and you must reach a certain profiency to go to some colleges in Ireland. I also understand that to get any kind of a civil job you must speak Irish at a certain level. Today about 42% of Irish people have a good understanding of Irish, enough to speak it and understand it fairly well. Whether they use it on a daily basis is another matter. I also noticed something else for the very first time, Irish people do not use the "th" sound. So everything that should be said with a "thhhhh" sound comes out with a hard t. For example : everyting, catedral,. I had never noticed it before but I guess hearing it so much over the weekend it finally sunk in.

No visit to Dublin would be complete without a visit to Guinness.  While the tour was mildly interesting, (a bonus - it's self guided, so you can go as fast or slow as you want) we were all about the beer and the gift shop there.  Actually, I don't know if it was because we were there or what but in the past I have never really cared much for Guinness.  However, this time, I rather enjoyed my complimentary pint at the end of the tour.  Perhaps it was because it was free.  We did some damage at the gift shop because every young boy needs to go back to school wearing a beer t-shirt commemorating his weekend of culture with his mother.

 

We went to Trinity College to see the Book of Kells, a highly ornate manuscript that has been around since the 7th century at least.  It is pretty interesting looking at how complex it is and thinking it was all done by hand.  We were
able to walk around the campus a bit, after buying our requisite t-shirt and sweatshirt and absorb a bit.  It really is a beautiful campus and it looks like a college should.  We noticed some guys playing croquet on the lawn.  I didn't know anyone still played that game except Alice in Wonderland.  Well, they play it at Trinity College.  Kiki wondered out loud whether she should consider Trinity for one of her college applications.  No!!  I am barely getting my head around the fact that she may apply to some East Coast schools, I don't think I would like having several oceans between us.  Hmmm - maybe that is what appeals to her!!!  

I think the kids enjoyed traveling to the land of their roots.  It gives them a point of reference, although from their perspective during this weekend, they might get the idea that Ireland is all about the beer, the shopping, the music with a few castles and interesting artifacts thrown in.  Yeah, pretty much.  

41 Gun Salute (That's Right - 41)

One of the cool things about our neighborhood is that it is home to the King's Troop Royal Horse Artillery. Very often the soldiers take the horses out for a romp in the neighborhood or we can see them on the way back from an official engagement of some kind. Part of their duties are ceremonial, they fire royal salutes, they provide gun carriages and teams of black horses for State and Military funerals. Queen Elizabeth's father, King George, had the unit formed in 1947 because he wanted a troop dressed in ceremonial garb to take part in all great ceremonies of state. He was so pleased with the unit that it became known as the King's Troop. When he died, as is customary, all things with the name King in them became Queen . . ., because the new monarch was a woman. However, knowing her father's fondness for this particular unit she decreed that it would continue to be known as King's Troop in honor of her father. Nice daughter, huh?

Last week, I happened to catch them coming through the streets on their way back from some event. There is something surreal about going to the grocery store and having to wait for the horses and cannons to go through before you can enter the cross walk. I don't recall that ever happening








in California. They have been known to come down our street on the rare occasion. I have tried to take a picture but I am always out of battery when it happens!!!

So I read in the paper that Wednesday was the anniversary of the Queen's accession to the throne. In celebration the Troop was going to fire a 21 gun salute in her honor at Hyde Park. However, since Hyde Park is a royal park they throw in an extra 20 guns. I decided to head over because I wasn't sure when I would see a 41 gun salute again in my life.
I was surprised that there weren't more people. I spoke with a police officer and asked if there would be a crowd and he assured me there wouldn't be. Really, I was surprised. He said this type of salute wasn't very well attended. There would be some honored guests but that was it. Honored guests!! Maybe someone royal? No, he didn't think so. Well I could hope. So I wandered over where the honored guest area was all set up. Did that for 2 reasons. One , if someone royal was there - better vantage point to gawk and stalk. Secondly, I figured where they set up the honored guests probably would have the best view of the festivities. Otherwise if you were an honored guest and you couldn't really see anything, you wouldn't feel very honored or the people doing the set up job just weren't very good.

The salute was set to go off at 12 noon. The band marched in about 11:30 and started playing. I thought the band was pretty interesting. At first, I just thought it was an ordinary band that they assigned the duty to. But actually I think this was the Kings Troop Royal Horse Artillery's own band. My reasoning? The spurs. Not too much need for the trombone player to usually have spurs, right? The honored guests came in about 15 minutes before on mini-buses. Mini-buses. No famous peoples or royals as far as I could tell. Apparently it was a formal occasion. You can't really tell from this picture, but the men were wearing mourning jackets. The ladies were mostly wearing fancy suits and hats. That is how you can tell it is a fancy do in England, if the ladies are wearing hats. Because it is a daytime formal occasion the men wear bowler hats. If it was at night, they would wear the top hats.

So the troops come thundering into the park at about 11:50. They set up the cannons, which takes all of about 3 minutes and then they have to wait. And wait. And wait. When the King's Troop says the salute will be at 12 noon, they mean 12noon and not a second sooner or later. I spied one of the leaders watching his watch very carefully. At exactly 12 noon, the first of six cannons went off. As you can imagine, it was pretty loud. Then the next, then the next. It was all pretty efficient. I think the whole
thing was over in about 15 minutes.











But not until the marching band led the way, playing Mary Poppins tunes. (Huh?) Oh well, I love a parade.

It's a Wrap on the Cotswolds and Other Things

Okay, so it is time to finish up these entries because I don’t think writing about the trip should take more time than actually taking the trip. Before we get moving onto the next towns, I wanted to include a picture of a thatched roof cottage. I was amazed at how many of these cottages are around, that we saw on this trip and are in use. They are very cute but I imagine the upkeep is pretty tough. Very picturesque.


Chipping Campden

Chipping Campden is another one of the Cotswolds’ wool towns, which were
founded on the ancient wool trade years, years ago. Specifically Chipping Campden was founded in 1185. The town buildings are like a time line, there are structures that date back from every century since the 14th. As usual there is a beautiful church. Since it was Sunday and they had services ongoing, we couldn’t traipse around in the church, church traipsing being our specialty. So we walked all throughout the town, much to the delight of the teenaged people in our group. Chipping reminds me a bit of Carmel. There are no house numbers on the houses. Most of
the houses are either named or have some other identifying mark, such as the blue shutters or green door. This is the market that has been in the town center since it was built in 1627. It looks pretty good for being almost 400 years old, huh?


These crosses are in just about every town we have been in. They honor the local citizens who died in one of the wars or conflicts that Britain has been involved in. The red wreaths are made of paper or a plastic version and are supposed to represent poppies. The poppy is the symbol of Remembrance Day (the UK version of Veteran’s Day).







Stratford-Upon-Avon



Well, for most of you Stratford-upon-Avon (remember Avon, like haven without the h) needs no introduction. I guess that was kind of an introduction. Birthplace of the Bard, William Shakespeare. We managed to see his house, you can actually walk in, see where he lived, etc. It was interesting but…… okay – you knew there was but. Stratford is probably one of the biggest tourist attractions in the Cotswolds. It has been “Disneyfied” in a way. Not because there is a Shakespeare information center and there are no Shakespeare or Anne Hathaways walking around signing autographs in a “sold only in Stratford” autograph book. No I think it was interesting to learn about his life, his past, his family. But the area immediately surrounding his house is an outdoor mall, with dress shops, gift shops, candy shops. I noticed this same phenomena at Canterbury Cathedral. Once of the most historic places in all of England and it surrounded by Top Shops, Wetherspoons restaurants and Monsoons. I am not one of those ‘keep everything exactly the same, no modernization,” but I think the areas around certain sites could be kept a little more historic and a little less commercial. Maybe its just me.

So we got a really good feel of the English countryside. It is beautiful and I could drive (or be driven as the case may be) around for hours just watching it. It is always interesting and something historic is just around the corner. (Okay, cue smaltzy Disney music, …… Noooooooooo!) Good Trip.

Cotswolds and Other Things Cont'd.

Today our blog is sponsored by the letter B. Can you say “B”? Or more precisely “Burton on the Water” and “Bibury”, two of the towns we visited recently on our car trip.

Bibury

Bibury was once called the most beautiful village in England by William Morris, a famous British author. I have to say it is a pretty little town but the MOST beautiful? That is a lot to live up to. We have seen a lot of these cute villages and after awhile it is hard to distinguish levels of cuteness. I will let you be the judge.






Bourton on the Water

This was one of my favorite towns on the trip. I think it was because it calls itself “the Venice of the Cotswolds”. See? I like the brashness of it. It is beautiful. It has many of these little bridges crossing the river. One thing I noticed about rural England is that after a while the people got a little less imaginative about names and just became very utilitarian about it. For example, there is Bourton, Bourton on the Water (where we were and a very apt description) but not to be mistaken with Bourton on the Hill or Bourton on Dunsmore.
I can just hear the conversation:

“Another town???”

“I know, what are we going to name this one?”

“Well, what about Bourton?”

“Taken”

“Blimey! What now? Oh, okay, I got it. How about Bourton on the Hill?”

“Sorry, that one too.”

“Great, I'm gobsmacked. What am I going to do now?”

“Listen, I don’t care what you name it. Just come up with something soon or I am going to go jump in that river.”

“WAIT. I GOT IT. BOURTON ON THE WATER!!!!”

And it was done.