Tony and Shara: December 2008

Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Our trip is nearly done. It's dark outside on our final day. Jono is pouring gin and tonics. We leave tomorrow at 9 a.m., arriving back in Portland at 7 p.m., which will be 3 a.m. back in England. So now it's time for some random photos and thoughts:

I love that pharmacies are called chemists in England. I don't know why. And I'd very much like to live on Frogley Road. But I don't know about Speedo Pizza. Not only is speed the wrong priority for pizza, but I imagine the delivery man showing up in a skimpy bathing suit. Not a pretty picture. Nor would I call my shop White Stuff, which I think is what people call cocaine and also sounds vaguely racial. And finally, given the vast number of calories involved, I would not call my fish and chips shop the Sea Cow.

Checking it off the list

It's our last day, and Shara still had two items on her list: mailing post cards and doing rubbings in a cemetery. She got the postage before lunch at the Thai restaurant. Afterwards, we all went to a nearby cemetery, which is about a mile from Jono and Alison's place and surprisingly run down. Blackberries and ivy are growing everywhere. Headstones are falling down and cracked. It's quite odd and quite spooky, especially with all the crows.

Driving out of London with theme song

Lulu and Frances on the merry-go-round

Taking the tour bus

That's Buckingham Palace on the left. The tour guide told us the bus wasn't allowed to go in front out of respect for the Queen's privacy. Given the vast hordes of people we saw in front of the palace, this seems like an unlikely explanation. The tour was fun, but it was damn cold on the open top.

Waiting for the bus

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

More Tuesday in London

We spent a long day on the tour bus and at the National Gallery. It was dark when we finally left. Notice the slender moon behind us.

Tuesday in London

We took the bus tour, which cost too much. But we also spent the afternoon at the National Gallery, which was free.

Monday, December 29, 2008

Buckler's Hard

Overpriced and under-featured. The boat trip wasn't available; the hotel/cafe was closed. At least the swans were hungry. And at least we got out of the house. We later retreated to the Montagu Arms in Exbury for cream tea, killer scones with cream and jam and excellent ham and curry chicken sandwiches. Plus, they put us in an enclosed room so Angus could run amok.

Lulu and the horses

Lulu spent quite a bit of time down the common with the horses. She sketched them. She fed them.

Saturday, Dec. 27

We spent the afternoon at the beach. It was cold, but the sun was out and we found an incredible array of rocks, including one that resembled the Madonna and child. Alas, a lovely day was tarnished by a thief who stole Lulu's camera. It was not an expensive camera, but we lost all the photos she had amassed on the trip. We decided to bury our sorrows at the local pub, which was filled with a bunch cranky Englishmen, one of whom declared: "There isn't a woman a love who knows what off sides means. Not one." I made the mistake of tipping the bartender. She later returned the tip to Jono, saying, "I own the place. I don't charity." Or something like that. Ouch.

Tony and Shara's walk

Shara and I took off Saturday morning for a walk. We crossed the common, and then took the road to Exbury, the home of the Rothschild estate. We heard a bunch of inebriated friends of the Rothschilds blasting pheasants. Then we freelanced our way back across several public footpaths, an excellent British tradition of giving people the right to get around on foot over private property.

Boxing Day

Boxing Day is the day after Christmas, and it's basically when you show your appreciation for the servants who had to work on Christmas. In some parts of the the country, you neglect to give a generous gratuity to the trash collector, you pay a steep price the rest of the year. We spent Boxing Day in the car driving to South Hampton, which is where Jono grew up. It's in southern England across from the Isle of Wight. It's also at the edge of the New Forest, which is not new at all (King Henry VIII created it 500 years ago), but its a wonderful wide open "commons" where you can pretty much wander forever. The best part -- at least from Lulu's perspective -- was the rule that anyone can let their horses and donkey roam freely. Lulu managed to befriend many a horse.

And now for something completely different: the British area really, really into potato chips, which they call crisps. And they are into some pretty incredible flavors: roast chicken and rosemary; steak and onions; and (as is pictured above) prawn cocktail. I tasted several and can say that overall I approve of their flavored crisps, but I had to draw the line at the prawn cocktail.