First English Roadtrip: Cotswolds!

After getting the driving fever in Ireland, I joined streetcar.co.uk where I now have regular access to automobiles that just so happen to have the steering wheel on the "right" side of the car.  When my Mom mentioned she would be interested in seeing the Cotswolds, it was the perfect opportunity to get out onto the open road here in the U.K.

The Cotswolds are known to be a quaint area of England, just about a two hour drive West of London.  It is a series of small towns, mostly established from the wool industry in the Middle Ages, and the homes/churches are made characteristically of a honey colored limestone.

We picked up our B-mer (never actually tried to type that word before, but is slang for big fancy black BMW) and were on our way.  Slight challenge at the gas station figuring out how to get the car started again, but  no other driving issues - handled the roundabouts in Oxford like I knew what I was doing (thanks to great tips from our cabbie in Dublin).  Not sure why, but I like driving here.

Once past Oxford the countryside appears, with rolling green hills dotted with sheep, many of which had little ones by their side.  I wasn't expecting it, but England also has plentiful mustard fields similar to those I saw in France a few weeks ago, so there were interspersed squares of yellow in the distance.  Beautiful.  Lush.

The route started with Bourton-on-the-Water, and not just for us.  The town was full of touristing families, a bubbling brook with stone bridges, and the perfect spot to sit outside and have some fish & chips for lunch.


From there we drove through Lower and Upper Slaughter, and then stopped in Stow-on-the-Wold, our favorite spot of the day.  The shops were nice to browse through, the buildings were all very old, like you would expect in the area, and as an added bonus I actually stumbled upon a proper dress to where to the Royal Ascot horse race I will be attending in June.

It is classic, historic countryside in England and I would enjoy spending more time in area.  Driving through the hills of the countryside made for a great first road trip here in the U.K.!  Look out!  I'm on the loose!

THE Wedding

You may or may not have heard that a beloved son of England wed a commoner this week, April 29th to be exact.

The two met in college, and judging by their perfect dental structure and high cheek bones, appear to be a great match.

I will be honest ... I know very little about all this except the few following things:

Bunting on Regents Street ready to go!

1) He is the son of Diana, the beloved Princess

2) This is all occurring in London

3) The U.S. has WAY more press coverage than the U.K. (read here for research by my very own)

4) Many Brits are a bit indifferent about the whole thing, and a portion are quite irate with the frivolous expenditure of funds and/or are getting out of town to avoid the whole thing

Get your memorabilia!

5) Our hot, young couple is attempting to break some long standing traditions, like servants and polyester


6) There are a LOT of plates, cups, flags, T-shirts, condoms, plant seeds, bunting, greeting cards, coasters, ash trays, key chains - you name it - with their faces on them.  Most of the pictures are horrible and most are made in China.  I can't decide what will be worth something when I am old.

7) They are in for quite a challenge to make this relationship work and hide their fatigue / fear

8) My friend Shannon actually walked into the hotel where Kate was staying the night before, casually ordered a drink, and saw her check in (WHAT??) "looking gaunt"

Int'l Press Booth at Buckingham

9)  And yet others bravely weathered the elements to camp out on the grounds in attempt to catch a glimpse; yet more surprisingly (just by a a hair) others in the U.S. are setting alarm clocks at 3AM to get up and see the coverage - living life to the fullest

10) It is pretty cool that I am living here at this time, and will have a "I was there when ..." story from Bill's mews, shared with my parents and newest of friends at the time, feeling quit humble at the situation and optimistic that love reins all - truly.

"Calm down you can still marry Harry"  Whew.

Even case da Sarah is in the spirit!

Amsterdam

When I was in fourth grade for our Around the World celebration I was "Holland", soon to be understood as The Netherlands.  I recall being so intrigued by the fact that they had a city named Haarlem - with two A's!  So, when a friend of mine said she really wanted to go see the tulips in bloom I couldn't pass.  Last minute flight tickets and an unusually lucky score on a room at a B&B and we were on our way!

After arriving late Friday night, browsing an outdoor book fair, grabbing a couple of Amstels and some dinner we were back to the flat to get rested up.  Great room, fraction of the price of a hotel, and awesome location - close, but not too close and no riff raff.

Saturday we had to pack in as much of what Amsterdam had to offer in as little as time as possible (well, not quite everything).  In the morning we browsed a food and craft market, saw the Anne Frank house (from the outside), and found our way through old squares and the tulip market - Bloemenmarkt.  So fun!  Bulbs upon bulbs, wild varieties, beautiful colors.  One musn't forget that the town of Gouda is just outside Amsterdam, so brightly colored rounds of pungent cheese were on offer as well.

I bought my handy travel guide earlier in the week and I was surprised to learn that Amsterdam is nearly all canals.  In parts of town, every other what would be a street is in fact a waterway.  This makes for infinite picturesque views - with boats and bridges and the classic thin, brick row housing along the channels.

I would not be one bit surprised if someone told me that there were more bicycles in Amsterdam than people - including tourists.  One has to witness the mass quantities of bikes hanging on every post/fence/tree and just crammed into any open spot forming mass jungles of bike parts to truly understand this (for the Amazing Race fans one of the legs was in fact trying to find a couple bikes at the Central Station bike parking lots, which is several stories high).

So  ... when in Rome  ...we did in fact spend the afternoon on a canal boat cruise and rented a couple bikes to do it like the locals.  Stopped for a snack of fondue (whoa delicious)!  After some recuperation time, we were back on the town for some people watching and a spectacular dinner and bottle of wine.

Sunday was all about going out to see the tulip fields.  We had rented a car, and to avoid going into a fit of rage I will summarize it to:  we ended up with a manual, Amy ended up with an ego boost.  Kuekenhof is a park south of Haarlem devoted to showcasing the bulbs - truly stunning.  The colors and size of some varietals was certainly beyond what we see in the States.  They even had twins!  Though we had to see the fields as we bounced our way back to the airport, the color palette was nonetheless breathtaking.

I will be spending time trying to figure out how to make quitting my job and living (not working) in Amsterdam for a while seem like a respectable thing to do.

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Set Change

If the backdrop for March was the crayon yellow of our youth, April is all about blues, lilacs, and baby blanket pinks (I'm getting quite literary, huh?).

Taking a walk today I realize that my neighborhood has literally transformed from a week ago - from flaming Daffodils and Forsythia to cool cherry blossoms, lilac bushes, blue bells, Iris, and the coveted Wisteria (ugh, if only the weather on Logan Blvd could sustain this Queen - do your eyes a favor and click on that link).

Even the air feels likes it's changed, from the aggressive Move-Out-of-My-Way-Winter-Here-Comes-Spring to the more laid back Let's-Stroll-Into-Summer-Why-Rush?

All of these photos were taken on my street.  The first one with the quadruple purple threat is my next door neighbor Frank, who has lived in that house for over 30 years.

As with all seasons, there are several varietals I have never seen before.  Trust me, had the sun been shining their colors would have been even more glorious.  For example - Blue Bells.  Do we have those in the Midwest?  They are also some sort of English icon, as the famous Penhaligan's Perfumerie has them as their signature scent.  Look kind of like Lily of the Valley, but, well, blue.

I have also been advised that one MUST see the Blue Bells in bloom at Kew Gardens as they blanket the entire park floor  ... hoping they hang out another couple of weeks so Mom and John can come too.

Bon Jour Provence!

Many people have said one of the benefits of living in London is that you are just a two hour train ride from Paris, a quick flight to just about anywhere mainland Europe ... they ain't kidding.  This past weekend I had the blessing to be able to join a (almost said old here) Chicago friend to celebrate her (let's just say rhymes with "ourtieth") birthday in the Provence region of France.  Not only was it a wonderful group of people to hang out (10 in total), but the surroundings, food, wine, and weather could not have been more spectacular.

The Luberon region of Provence, just East of Avignon, consists of small, cliff-hanging ancient towns dispersed amongst rolling hills of yellow mustard plants (lavender not in bloom quite yet) and a variant scene of changing countryside (mountains, rivers, fields of grape plants, cherry trees ...).  Uhhh-mazing.

Our stone cottage in the village of Robion was picture perfect; dinner in the courtyard surrounded by candles, bottles of wine, and laughter made for a couple of those best nights in your life.  The sun-soaked afternoons under nothing but blue sky weren't too shabby either.  Oh, and how could I forget the gooey cheese, buttery croissants, and chewy local red.  Thanks Erica.

I hadn't actually had much time to research the area, so the daily outings were quite impressive.  We first went to Roussillon, which is known for the multi-faceted shades of ocher colored earth.  The colors of this soil  were out of this world and because they were used to tint their paints, result in a town where the colors of all the buildings all melted together.

From there we headed to Gordes, known to be one of the most beautiful towns in all of France - picture perfect.  The overlook of the town as you approach defines breath-taking, and walking through the pastel colored streets into shops selling baskets, soaps, art, (sneaking in an apple tart right after your delicious lunch) was an experience I will not soon forget (and I have a terrible memory).

From there the gang headed back to the cottage to rest at the pool with some wine and prep for the birthday dinner.  For, in the morning most of us had to shake off the haze of a bit too much red wine so we could head off to see the Pont du Gard, an ancient Roman aquaduct not far from where we were staying.  Quite an impressive little artifact.  We ended the day with a stroll through Avignon, still surrounded by its fortress wall before I had to sadly board my train to return home.

It was one of those trips where you seriously question before you leave if there just isn't any remote chance you can stay, even just one more night.  Alas, it is the Monday morning stress-athons that provide me the means to experience all these wonderful things, but I got to say, popping out the other end of the Chunnel back in bloody-old England was just a tad depressing.  At least the sunny morning today, and the prospect of more things to come, helped me get over that.

Daffodil Delirium

At every turn of the head ... Daffodils. Now, I mean these are definitely a great flower, one that symbolizes the beginning of Spring, beating even the tulip to bloom. However, the Brits take these flowers quite seriously.  They are EVERYWHERE! Sprouting up randomly in the grass, thousands together in a park, filling the local's window boxes (I also got into the spirit).  Often no rhyme or reason to their location, just a universal, unspoken love for them.


They even sell little fabric ones to wear on your lapel similar to the poppy.  Not only are they everywhere, but there seems to be a biased, extreme favor for them, as there has been little room for any other bulb, as far as I have seen.

These little guys have made for a quite chipper March, as they all are smiling at you as you walk down the street or ride the bus.  They are now starting to fade after a solid six week showing.

I look forward to the surprises that April offers - the Magnolia trees have all just bloomed this week.  One thing for certain, they do know how to garden.

1400 km through Ireland ...

The past five days I got away, really away.  By the middle of the trip I already felt as if I had been gone from daily life for quite some time, and that peace remained throughout the trip.  The night before St. Patrick's Day my BFF and I set off for Ireland for what would be two nights in Dublin followed by three days of driving through the South and West of the island - no set plans, just see the sea and eat seafood.

While in Dublin we stayed right in the heart of the action in the Temple Bar district.  Great swanky hotel close enough to the pubs to be used for nature's callings.  It was a real kick to see actual Irish pubs for the first time and taste a fresh brewed Guinness (yum).  Everyone was in a real cheery mood, and the parade was delightfully artful and unchaotic. The weather, live Irish music, costumes, and entertaining foreigners were great as well.  Above expectations.

Friday morning we rose early to pick up our little red rental car and hit the road.  First down south to Killarney, through the Lakes to do the Ring of Kerry - about 112km around one of the five southern peninsulas off the island.  It is quite common to see extremely old rock-formed buildings deteriorating in the distance, some even castles and cathedrals.  The changing landscape was captivating.  We made our way through several small towns, stopping for a lunch of crab and local made Irish cheeses.  The homemade breads at nearly every location were amazing - full of seeds and herbs.  End of night one we lucked out in a great B&B on a riverside with a lovely couple running the place, great recommendations on dinner that evening, a humongous full moon, and a stellar homemade breakfast included the next AM.

Day two on the road started with a tour of Dingle peninsula, the next to the north of Kerry, courtesy of moi driving for the first time ever on the "other" side of the car / road.  Yeah, I'm a pro.  It was a great morning, clinging to the sides of the mountains, curvy roads, cliffs and seaside ("tight left", "wide right", "think Irish", "too close to the stone wall").  We stopped off for a magnificent bowl of pub-made seafood chowder before crossing the River Shannon via ferry and heading off to the Cliffs of Moher.

For the vast majority of the trip we were on thin roads, barely wide enough to pass two cars (hold the breath and pray as anything larger than a Yugo passes you) and extremely rural.  Even when you got to a town you had the sense most places were empty or the inhabitants were in some sort of slumber.  We did end up getting some rain that afternoon and by the time we got to Moher it was down right arctic, so it was a quick stop.  The rain did add to the confusion of "why is the turn signal on the wrong side" and "man I keep turning the wipers on for the signal".  Yep, those are switched too!

We weerily made it into Galway that evening after a full 10 hours on the road, found the first hotel we could and barely accomplished getting a hot shower and a decent meal across the street.  We did rally however and convince ourselves we should spend the last morning of the trip touring northwest of Galway in a region called Connemara, full of mountains, stone walls, and free range sheep - lots of them.  Being Spring, all the farm critters had little babies jumping about.  It was a beautiful end to the trip - so very remote, scenic, and true inspiration to lead a simpler life and build yourself a castle.

The Eye

Check off another London tourist attraction!  Played hooky this Friday with an out of town guest and decided to do the Eye ... not a bad idea since it was so sunny out (that blue ski is a rarity here).  The London Eye just so happens to be the biggest ferris wheel in Europe (huge ... bigger than Navy Pier), and the glass pods you ride around in are pretty cool.  The round takes about 30 mins total and is just above Big Ben and the House of Parliament on the River Thames, providing spectacular views.  Generally I am scared in ferris wheels, but this one is so sturdy and smooth, not a nerve twitched!  Whew, didn't have to have another panic event like at the Eiffel Tower!

London Graffiti

Blansky, Essex Road

Oh yes, they do have their fair share of the typical stuff, but London has a breed of graffiti they can call their own.  I am no historian, but Banksy has a distinctive stenciling technique that has taken on.

Banksy is an artist in the city that pretty much stays underground and I believe that has made the appearance of one of his projects even more exciting to the masses.  When wondering the city, I take delight when I encounter such a piece.

The first one I recall was on my very first day in London, on Cross Street very near my current flat.  It was a very cute pug dog that drew my attention because of how good it was and I was shocked when I went by again and it was painted over.  Almost felt like it was an illusion all along (... the dog that drew me to Islington ... buahhh).  After that I began seeing random pieces that all had a very similar style, usually off on their own, and certainly considered beauty, not destruction.

Cross St.

Primrose Hill

There is a more famous piece on Essex Road, also just a couple blocks from my flat (the one with the kids and flag above).  The "are you looking at me?" man is now on Cross Street, but doesn't feel to me like the same artist.  When wondering Primrose Hill I saw the one with the guy with his dog (very similar style to the first one I saw).

I can't say for sure that these are all Banksy, and even more curious is while wondering through Paris I saw this one with the cat that caught my eye as well.  While looking at the wiki link (above) for Blanksy it says that he styles himself after Blek le Rat, a Parisian graffiti artist.  Just may be!!

"Niether God, nor master, nor tasty fried food treat"

 

Foods of America

So, if one were to travel to London from a foreign land, visit one of the well know major department stores and happen to see the "Foods of America" section this is what they would find.  You know, kind of like the "International" section of Dominick's where you find black beans, rice, and bamboo shoots.

I'll let you draw your own conclusions, as I am sure they will be varied.  Feel free to use the comment section.

P.S. check out the price on those Lucky Charms!  That's $12 bucks!

Kitzbuhel, Austria

Got a little getaway this weekend - two nights in the Alps ski town Kitzbuhel.  Kitz is known amongst those in the know (not me) as an upscale ski resort area, with a quaint downtown, very daring slopes, and expensive hotels.  Some of you may recall the name from past Olympics, tucked in between the rugged mountains in the area of Tirol.

A friend of mine had a work gathering there this week and the option to stay the weekend, so we wisely took advantage of it.  "See the Alps" is now checked off my list.  I was pretty blown away by the first sight of the mountains outside the Innsbruck airport, and the hour train was a beautiful, peaceful ride..

I didn't ski - I don't have the gear and actually like the bones in my legs to be straight, so I went just for the site-seeing.  Friday night we went out for dinner and cocktails in town, Saturday covered the sites, and then made the return journey Sunday.  Our B&B was darling, run by a very traditional Austrian couple.  Quality DNA.  They served us a nice breakfast each morning made up of cheese, cold cuts, bread, yogurt, and coffee.  The view from our room was stunning, overlooking the mountainside, and on day one two hot air balloons floated by while lying in bed.  

After breakfast we went for a walk into town by way of a winter trail through the forest and around a lake.  The air was so fresh and the sky so blue.  We passed over a small river running over multi-colored stones, looked so crystal clear I wanted to drink it!  Though a bit chilly, it was so still out that in the sun you felt warm.  The weather was perfect.

After shopping in town a bit, we both mustered up the courage to ride up one o f the gondolas to the top of the mountain.  This was no small feat.  The pictures here do not even come close to doing justice to how high up this thing really went.  Scary!  And after the double espresso I had at Meinl Kaffee the heart was pounding!  We did survive and once at the top sat down for a little lunch with the panoramic views in the sun.  I ordered a traditional meat and cheese platter, complete with horseradish (that I mistakenly thought was cheese and put a big scoop in my mouth) and a shot of schnapps.  So that's how they keep warm!  Tasty.

Back at the bottom, we did a bit more wondering around town, took a rest, and then headed out for a traditional Austrian dinner.  Stroganof was the plate, served with spatzl (small dough things) on the side.  Tasty.  Shannon had pancake soup!

In the morning we took our time eating breakfast and then hit the road for the taxi/train/bus/plane/train/tube/bus ride home.  The view on the plane flying out of Innsbruck was amazing.  It is hard to comprehend that a scene like that is actually real.  It was a great trip.

Sunshine ... on my shoulder ... makes me happy ....

Dear Madrid, you are winning me over.  From your azul skies, to your stark white facades, your green parks, salty ham, smoky Riojas, all rolled in cheese and crusty bread ...  oh, and not a disappointing shopping spree yet.

To top it all off, the center of your Plaza Mayor offers a refuge from the elements, that even on a chilly February afternoon, was toasty enough to shed the layers and fulfill just a bit of the longing inside that yearns for sun on my shoulders.  With an amazing paella to boot.  Thank you ... oh, especially for having that rabbit fur vest I have been visiting at 60% off.  Love you!

Kitty is a Brit!

Though he officially landed in the U.K. January 8th, I wanted to make sure I had proper photos only after he had some time to get over the jet lag and get accustomed to his new home.  Things went just fine - at least the part I witnessed.

For those of you who haven't had the privilege of moving a pet to the U.K. there is a crazy amount of process you need to go through, starting 7-8 months in advance of the move.  

There is the microchipping, then the rabies shot, then the blood test to prove he had a rabies shot, which requires a certificate from the University of Kansas.  Then, all of this information must be gathered and entered into an official government form by a certified veterinarian, which then must be signed by the USDA in Des Plaines, IL.  Then, 6 months of waiting (for me, for him it was more like 6 months at Grandma's house getting all the goodies you want).

Finally, two weeks before departure you book a ticket with one of only two certified airlines allowed to transport pets into the U.K.  The cage needs to be precisely measured to pre-set multiplicative factors to your pet's dimensions, and he must be given a flea and tick treatment no more or less than 24 hours before flight time, again by a certified vet that must enter all this batch information into the now sacred form.

The day of the flight they need to arrive in the cargo area four hours prior to takeoff, where he is succumbed to some pretty intense screening.  All went well - we passed.  So, off he went, to what I am sure was some pretty scary circumstances, until about 14 hours later when I picked him up outside of Heathrow airport.

All in all, he really didn't seemed to rattled.  However, in the cab on the way home, he was struggling to keep his eyes open and his head up ... poor guy, he did so good!  Now, my little buddy is happy in his new home, that is so quiet and warm!  And, he has his Mom with him again - 14 years and still going strong.