Drivin' My Life Away

In two weeks, I'll celebrate another anniversary as a licensed driver. As much as I wish I could tell you that this is expressed in dog years, the fact is that I have been a licensed driver for 36 years.
So the question comes up since I've been in London: Do you miss driving?
I'm not sure you can draw a fair conclusion in five weeks, but I would have to say that I don't.
Tonight is a good example. I have a cold and in general am feeling fairly lousy. I'm bundled up in warm PJs (pygamas in London) and socks with a hot cup of tea at my side. It's been a rainy day. Keith is out - he has gone with his students to the theater. I would like some soup but I ate the only soup in the house yesterday.
If I were at home, I would pull on some sweats, throw on a raincoat and drive to HT to buy a can of soup. Here, I don't have that option. If I wanted to go out, I would need to bundle up, walk to the bus stop, wait for the bus (at night, up to 30 minutes) or walk the 1.25 miles to Tesco. It's an ordeal. I'll do without.
It won't kill me.
Still, I don't miss driving. I like planning out my route each day - figuring out which bus or subway to take or which path to walk. I see new things every time.
I like buying groceries in small quantities and bringing home just what I need. I don't end up with a pantry full of would-be, changed-our-mind-at-the-last-minute dinners.
Under our building (we're on the fifth floor) there is a 24-hour market - sort of a convenience store. I wouldn't really want to buy food there, but it's convenient for an occasional bottle of water. (Actually, I miss my water cooler back in Charlotte much more than I miss my car.)
Over the past week, I have been keeping my eye on the news from home, especially the gas shortages and lines. In my early days as a driver, we had shortages and could buy gas only on certain days of the week. That was no fun. I don't miss any of that and I am grateful to be somewhere with a tremendous public transportation system that gets me everywhere I want to go with a minimum of fuss and bother. All I have to do is show my Travelcard and go.
After all these years of traveling in London, I am still fascinated by the underground system. To know that I am traveling in 2008 on a system originally built in 1860 is just astounding. I love all the stations - each has a personality and design all its own. Our "home" station, Angel, opened in 1901 and has the longest escalator in Western Europe. And when you get off that escalator, there's still another one to go. That's waaay down.
So, no gas lines for me. I clutch my little Travelcard and say a prayer of thanks that someone back in 1860 had this rather brilliant idea.

Lost and Found

I'm going to bury the lead on this post.
My mother left last week. She was here for two weeks and we went full-speed every minute. There's so much to see here and we didn't want her to miss a thing.
Finally, we're down to the last day. Of all that's yet to be seen, what is it she wants most to see?
The answer is easy: Buckingham Palace.
She knows that the Queen isn't there but she also knows that certain rooms in the palace are open to the public only in August and September. So that's where she wants to go. I'm excited because I've never been there either.
It's a really beautiful day, so we decide to walk to the Old Street tube stop, a little further away but such a nice walk. We get on the tube and make a change that will take us right to the Royal Subway Stop - only it doesn't. I read the map wrong. So we're out, climbing tons of stairs and walking lots more. My poor mother. She's determined though.
Finally, we're off the tube. But we have to walk about eight blocks to the palace. Mom is hanging in there.
All this walking is on faith, because we tried to buy online tickets the night before and none were available. My mom is having none of that. "Let's go. At least we can try," says ever-cptimistic Mother.
We finally get to the palace and yes, we can get in. Hurray! We do the tour and it's fabulous. It's long and entails a lot of walking. But it is Buckingham Palace and it's worth the walk.
Once it's over, we're out back, in the 40+ acres you don't see when you just ride by. The lawn is so green and lush. The trees, plants and lake are breathtaking.
There's a gift shop too. You can buy all kinds of BP stuff. Dog sweaters. Mugs. China. Ties. Shortbread. Pens. My mom bought me a Windsor Castle shower cap. It's white with gold lettering. I'll be such a classy bather!
We walk and walk for more than 40 minutes. My mother is just exhausted. I have this image of a London headline "American tourist passes out on palace path."
Finally, we're out on the street - and near nothing familiar. So, more walking.
We reach the Kensington High Street and decide sustenance is in order. We go to the lunch counter at Marks & Spencer. It's very pleasant -Welsh rarebit for me. YUM. I show Mom the photos I took at the palace. We ooh and aaah.
After lunch, we stop by the market and pick upsome meat and veg for a farewell dinner. And after a lot of traveling, we're home.
As I prepare dinner, I'm telling Keith all about the palace and I reach into my tote to get my camera.
MY CAMERA IS GONE. (There's the buried lead.)
We start re-tracing the day. The lunch counter at M&S was the last time we saw it.
We call the store. They don't have it, but maybe we can call back tomorrow. It doesn't sound good because wouldn't someone have already turned it in?
Now, I do have two cameras, but this one is my super-favorite. But - the angels are on my side, it seems - I had downloaded 500 photos from my camera onto my portable hard drive the night before.
My mother was beside herself. In that logical peculiar only to mothers, it was her fault because she was the one who wanted to go to Buckingham Palace, and if we hadn't ...
I was sick but just had to accept it. In this city of 8 million people, a little lost camera means nothing.
Next day, we put my mom on the plane. Keith calls M&S.
They have my camera!
One more shot, back of the palace. It's a little early in the season, but isn't it a miracle?

A Magical Place

Our day in Edinburgh (Ed-in-BURRA) was like a dream. What a place! The temperature was just right (everywhere we go, they tell us we bring good weather!) and everywhere we looked, we saw something wonderful.
Our little hotel was located a couple of miles away from the city center. Saturday morning the hotel had a hot breakfast waiting for the group (eggs, sausages, bacon, baked beans, tomatoes and toast). After breakfast we hopped on our little bus and headed over to Princes Street, a long shopping street perpendicular to the Royal Mile. We just walked along, enoying something that's practically a lost art back home - window shopping. Here, you have elaborate shop windows that draw you in ... back home, that's not so important in a mall setting.
We did nip into one of many Scottish heritage shops along Princes Street. You could buy everything from shirt to kilts to caps with your clan tartan - I chose a really nice tea mug with the Gordon tartan. I was tempted by a cashmere scarf but decided to bow to my Scottish nature and be frugal.
Around 12:45, we met up with our local tour guide and we clambered back on the bus for the big city tour. Our first stop was high atop Calton Hill. This is a hill near the city center with lots of monuments and great views. There's an unfinished replica of the Parthenon there and a tribute to Lord Nelson. The views are just magnificent.
From there we drove around the city, with our guide pointing out buildings and tossing out historical tidbits. I've been on lots of tours and a good guide really makes or breaks the trip. you have to have someone who knows their stuff and can make it interesting.
We made a circle around the Palace of Holyrood House, which is the Queen's official residence in Scotland. She has a garden party here each summer. The Royals spend a lot of time in Scotland, but mostly at Balmoral which is their family home in the north.
Next: The Castle! What a beautiful place! The street running from Holyrood to the Castle is called the Royal Mile. We got out of the bus and walked up a steep, winding path from Princes Street at the National Gallery to the Castle.
I've tried to think of words to describe the castle but I'm almost stuck. It was like nothing I've ever seen. The outer wall was built in the 1800s because people didn't think the castle was especially attractive. So it has this outer wall. Once you're inside, you feel as if you're transported to the 1500s ... it is like a little town in there. Streets and steps that go straight up. Beautiful views. And once you're at the top, a walled city. You had to feel safe up there.
We walked around the castle, just taking it all in. Then we headed down the Royal Mile, just as it started to rain.
As if by magic, we had a true Scottish experience - a misty rain, the steep castle walls around us and the music of a bagpiper. It was the most marvelous day.
We didn't try haggis, but we felt Scottish to the soul.

Hi-Ho from Edinburgh!

I'm writing this quick post from a pub in the wonderful old Murrayfield Hotel in Edinburgh. We arrived here around 7 p.m. tonight - it was a really long bus ride from London! We left at about 8:40 this morning and stopped three times for about 30 minutes each time. Most of us snoozed about half the way. It was a big bus and there are just 11 of us.
Edinburgh - what we have seen so far - is quaint and beautiful. I love it here. I'm in awe that 200+ years ago, my ancestors lived in this country and now I am here.
I love our hotel and will post photos tomorrow. We're on the first floor - about 10 stairs up from the lobby. No lift but we're very used to steps by now.The room is tiny but clean and comfortable.
We came down here for a quick dinner and have ended up sitting here for quite some time. It's fun to people-watch. There are some drinking guys beside us who appear to be having a fine old time. Earlier we helped a foursome beside us settle a bar bet by looking something up on the Web. Friendly Americans, we are!
More later this weekend. I am just so excited to be here in Scotland - it's a dream come true for me!

The Royal Treatment

We've been to Northern Ireland this weekend and what a weekend it was!
Keith and I went with my mom to visit her friends, Derick and Marian Woods, in Belfast. We took a short flight from Heathrow Friday afternoon and were met at the airport by the warm and wonderful Marian. From there, it was three days of royal treatment.
A little background: My mother is very active in the Moravian church and her church has a "sister" relationship with a church in Belfast. They've had the partnership for more than a dozen years, many visits have been made and lasting friendships have been forged. My mother was particularly thrilled to visit Ireland again - when she decided to visit us in London, she wanted to go to Belfast since she was in the "neighborhood."
We arrived at the Woods' charming home around 3 p.m. We knew that they were taking us to a concert by the Ulster Orchestra that evening but that's about all we knew. We came in, our bags were whisked to our rooms and we all sat down in the living room - a beautiful room with big picture windows fore and aft - for a spot of tea. So in comes Marian with the tea - and a platter of scones with raspberry jam. Not only did Marian make the scones, she made the jam - and grew the raspberries as well. But scones were not our only treat. She came in with yet another platter - this one with homemade shortbread and the most amazing bar cookies - a buttery crust topped with that raspberry jam and a coconut meringue. They were insanely delicious, unlike anything I have ever had. Keith and I were wolfing these things like we hadn't eaten in weeks.
Knowing a bit about British tea tradition, we figured the tea and treats were intended to be our dinner. Oh no ... dinner was just minutes away. Yikes. We had to be polite, right? So we piled into the dining room at the appointed time.
Our hosts did not disappoint. Our dinner was a shepherd's pie - minced beef, onion and peas in a light gravy, topped with potatoes - and served with carrots. It was comfort food at its best. Then ... Marian comes back from the kitchen with a fresh baked apple pie. And yes, the apples were from her very own trees.
Tummies full, we headed for the concert in the beautiful Waterfront Hall. It's a little over 10 years old and overlooks the River Lagen in the downtown area. The concert was called Flights of Fancy and our seats were perfect. I especially enjoyed the concert because the strings were outstanding.
We slept magnificently. The combination of great food, cool Irish breeze and an super-comfy bed certainly did the trick.
Saturday morning breakfast featured another Marian creation - home-baked wheaten bread, along with more raspberry jam and her homemade orange marmalade.
I had to see this garden! Nothing in the world prepared me for what I saw when I walked into their back yard.
Derick and Marian are an awesome team. Married for more than 40 years, they complement each other well. Both were educators - he taught math and was a school headmaster; she taught physics and is the daughter of Nobel Laureate Ernest Walton, the man who split the atom. They both love to travel. And they both garden - Marian is the vegetable grower and Derick tends to the flowers. Together, they have created the most beautiful garden I've ever seen in anyone's back yard.
The climate in Ireland is so kind to a gardener. In North Carolina, heat in June demolishes so many pretty blooms, but the coolness in Belfast helps to keep things beautiful. On Saturday morning, Marian picked fresh beans for our dinner. She's growing potatoes for her Christmas dinner and there are autumn raspberries on the vines. Not everything is still in season of course but we could not believe the green thumbs of these two!
After oohing and aaahing in the garden, we drove around the area, visiting Queen's University, Methodist College, downtown Belfast, the tiny town of Hillsborough and a nearby forest and lake. This was truly my favorite part of the day. The weather was picture-perfect and the lake was filled with hungry mallards - even a swan or two. I could have stayed all day ... except I knew that a Marian dinner was lurking around the corner!
Our Saturday night dinner was salmon with a parsley sauce, fresh-from-the-garden potatoes and beans and a homebaked chocolate cake. And she brought out more of those raspberry-coconut bars. And to be polite, we had to eat them. It was the least we could do.
If you're keeping count, our Sunday dinner included yet another delicious dessert - a plum cobbler. You guessed it - Marian grew the plums.
By this time, we were calling Marian the Martha Stewart of Northern Ireland. This was a high compliment - but I'm not sure they fully understood that. They weren't sure who she was, then Derick said, "Isn't she the one who went to prison?"
As I said, we were treated royally - and then some. And no wonder - the Woods know something about royal treatment. In 2007, they were invited to one of Queen Elizabeth's annual garden parties. It's quite a coveted invitation and of course, they traveled over from Belfast to attend. They showed us the most wonderful DVD of the event. They didn't get to meet the Queen but they were just inches from Prince Charles. Marian showed us the outfit she wore to the party - all ladies are asked to wear hats. Wasn't hers wonderful?
What struck us about our visit to Belfast was the warmth and friendliness of everyone we met - and how green and soft the grass was. The Emerald Isle, indeed!
On Monday it was back to London, back to my cooking and a fifth-floor view that doesn't include flowers. Lucky Keith and I have been invited back to Belfast and we hope to get there in November.

You could get lost there

Our time in this world is really very short.
That's the feeling we got as we wandered the rooms of the British Museum, a gem of a place located just down the street from Keith's London office, across from lovely Bloomsbury Square. We spent several hours there - amazingly, it's all free - and we hated to leave. I know we'll come back many times while we're here, but my Mom really wanted to go, so that's what spurred today's trip.
The museum is a beautiful, wonderous space. I took this photo from a point midway between the third floor and second floor. The museum's celing mesmerized me - it reminded me of a planetarium.
It's hard to know where to start at the British Museum because there's so much to see, from the Rosetta Stone to the Elgin Marbles, but Keith and I set out for the ancient artifacts. It was just amazing to see urns, bowls and artwork created 5,000 years ago and preserved so well. Here's a sarcophagus from about 2,500 A.D. - I thought it looked like a salad bar. Don't you?
Every statue we saw was more amazing than the last. It really made you start thinking about what life was like in these long-ago civilizations - their culture and beliefs. One of my favorite statues was named Roy. (I'm partial because that was my dad's name - in fact, for some reason, I thought it was really funny that there was a guy named Roy among all the snakes and pharoahs.) I took so many photos in this collection because every single one fascinated me. They were so well-crafted and detailed. Here's one more - it's Ramses II. Bear in mind that this is just a fragment of the original piece and it's nearly 3,600 years old. I was looking up at it and the sheer size (more than seven tons!) was breathtaking.
After our long stroll through the antiquities, we decided to walk up a few flights to the mummy display. Everywhere you go there's something fabulous to see. All the way up, we saw gorgeous mosaics from 4th century Carthage. Every one we saw was our new favorite. Here's one of many that we really liked. It's a dog and a boar. It looks like something ugly was about to happen.
We didn't spend as much time among the mummies as we would have liked. The rooms were packed. You know what they say - everyone loves their mummy.
I'll write again about that part of this wonderful museum, I promise.
After hours in the museum, we caught up with my mother, who was browsing in other areas, including the gift shop. She bought Keith the coolest Rosetta Stone tie. He loves it!
It was a beautiful night so we walked a bit and ended up having a traditional fish-and-chips dinner at a place called Fryer's Delight. It's definitely a hole-in-the-wall - they don't even have a bathroom! But it's a really good chippy - that's what a true Brit calls a fish-and-chips joint. Along with my cod, I ordered Pickled Cucumber, which turned out to be - wait for it - a sliced pickle. You don't see a lot of pickles here. I was thrilled.

The Total Shakespeare Experience

Cheers! Keith here and one thing I've learned tonight after a visit to Shakespeare's Globe Theatre here on the South Bank of the Thames. I wouldn't have made a good "groundling."
That's what they called the common folk who attended the theater back in Shakespeare's time. They watched the play standing up while the more well-off patrons luxuriated in the box seats around the stage. And that's how I experienced the "Merry Wives of Windsor" tonight -- literally for as long as I could stand it.
Nothing against the play, a delightfully-played rumbustious comedy which explores themes of courtship, marriage, fidelity, deception and jealousy, and has one the Bard's most unforgettable characters, the rotund and pompous Falstaff.
The Globe's recreation of both the stagecraft and the ambience of Shakespeare's day is a great educational experience for the theater-goer. And the cast sets the mood for that from the start, with a little poem to gently warn the patron of basic theatre etiquette:

Welcome to our Elizabethan stage
Where flash photography is not the rage,
And all your devices to off be set,
Because electronics haven't been invented yet...

Unfortunately, there wasn't much they could do about the airplanes that occasionally flew over the open-roofed theater.
Actually, the ground-level view isn't all that bad unless you're height-impaired, and it's especially fun when the stage and the action project out into the audience for an up-close and personal view.
But on this night it was more than my 56-year-old legs could bear and by intermission, 90 minutes in, I was feeling the effects. So I made my way back to the flat, accompanied by several of my students, channeling some envy for those folks who had been able to sit down. And I left doing what I always do after I read about the Middle Ages (OK, so Shakespeare was a little after) -- I thanked the Lord above that I was born in the 20th century.
And strangely enough, I related this experience to my one visit to Wrigley Field in Chicago for a Cubs game back in 1999. Loved the history and the atmosphere, but the place could've use more bathrooms and more comfortable seats. All other things being equal, I'll take amenities anytime.
As I understand our playgoing schedule, we may see a production of "Hamlet" later on this semester at another theater. I'm looking forward to it, and I presume that it'll have a place for me to sit down, which is the way I'm sure the Bard would really have wanted it to be.

Tourists, Bloody Tourists

My mom and I have been doing the tourist thing. Her time here is limited so we want to do and see as much as possible. So we've been on the run, lots of walking to bus to subway to boat, trying to see it all. And we've seen a lot, let me tell you!
Today we went on one of the bus tours that hits all the hot spots in town. We had a great seat on top of the double-decker and a well-informed guide who tossed out trivia like breadcrumbs to hungry pigeons. What was missing? A working camera! I had some memory malfunction so I can tell you about the tour but I can't show you. A bloody shame it is!
We started our tour off just off Picadilly Circus. From there it was Trafalgar Square (where I spent New Year's Rockin' Eve in 2000) to Hyde Park to Buckingham Palace, with lots of scenery in between. Our guide told us that there is a pet cemetery in Hyde Park with a grave for a beloved Lab that reads, "More faithful than my husband." Ouch!
The palace has 660 rooms. It's hard to wrap your mind around that, isn't it? Thr Queen even has an fully equipped underground operating room should she require emergency surgery. Hundreds of staff work at the palace - and the Royals rarely stay there. They spend most of their time in Windsor or Balmoral in Scotland. But if they need to be in London, it's nice to have a little place in town, right?
Our guide told us Prince Charles has his own staff, including a person whose duty it is to squeeze his toothpaste tube. Talk about a niche job!
Just down from the palace, we saw a storefront for Justerini & Brooks, said to be a great favorite of Prince Charles. That's where his favorite libation, J & B Scotch, is purchased. Did you know that J&B stands for "Justerini & Brooks"? I didn't - until today.
We moved through Belgravia, quite a posh neighborhood. How posh? The average home in that neighborhood costs 18 million pounds - yep, about $33 million. Quite a neighborhood, isn't it? If you can afford it, your neighbors would be Madonna, Roger Moore, Sean Connery (the two former 007s live next door to each other), Joan Collins, Margaret Thatcher and Tony Curtis, among other luminaries. High cotton, as we say back home.
We decided to jump off the bus at Westminster Bridge (not off the bridge), where we hopped onto a Thames River Cruise. I highly recommend the cruise if you're visiting London. The river is so historic and there's so much to see - it's a little hard to take it all in, but it's a very relaxing way to see a lot. We took the boat all the way to Greenwich, home of the Royal Observatory and the Prime Meridian. It was a fun and different way to see London.
Back on land, we hit other hot spots, including one of my personal favorites - Monument, an area which runs along the Thames. There are beautiful old trees and wide sidewalks - it's the loveliest place in the world to walk and just take in all that is beautiful here.
Our last stop of the day was Covent Garden, a must-see while in London. Touristy? Probably - but it's an area that transports you to another time. I especially like visiting there around dusk. Covent Garden takes on a jazzy energy at night.
So now we're back at the flat, resting from a day of nonstop go. This weekend we'll be in Northern Ireland.
I keep seeing travel posters in the underground stations - weekends in Norway, Spain, Turkey, Iceland ... they're calling my name. I wish they would call my bank and drop in a few pounds. Travel is a beautiful thing.

What's news?

Faithful readers have asked me about how I get my news here in London. As a former newspaper person, it's exciting to be in a city with lots of newspapers. Some of them are incredibly cheesy - but really fun to read! You have such a choice here - a very competitive newspaper environment. And coverage is so different! If you believe that the American media is biased ... holy cow, you should get your news in London!
Newspaper and TV reporters don't hesitate to put their opinions out there. No one even pretends to be unbiased. I'm watching Sky News now ... they're talking about Prince William deciding to join RAF search and rescue operations. They're calling it "another royal PR stunt."
Now they've been talking about the Lehman Bros. bankruptcy for about 10 minutes ... and the interesting thing is that most of what they're talking about is how the London papers have covered it. But I am impressed at how they're explaining how this will affect regular folks and they're actually doing it quite well. More than 5,000 people will lose jobs in London because of this. Some are comparing this crisis to 1929.
Speaking of companies going under, one of the UK's largest tour operators went out of business - overnight - on Friday. The company, XL Leisure, closed down early Friday, stranding travelers all over the world. An estimated 85,000 people paid for a vacation and didn't get it. If they did get to travel, they're stuck where they are - and they're having to pay big prices to get home.
By the way, British people call vacations "holiday," and where we would refer to these stranded folks as travelers, over here, they're called "holidaymakers." As bad as this situation is, doesn't "holidaymakers" sound just so darned festive?
Keith and I have made six trips to Europe, and our travel has always been done by a travel agency. Could we have done it cheaper by doing it all ourselves on the Internet? Possibly. We're both fairly web-savvy and I think we could plan a trip on our own. But there is something very comforting about knowing that a professional has planned your trip and if something happens and you're not in front of a computer, you can make a call and have it taken care of. I truly think you get what you pay for, and for me, a travel agent is worth every penny. It's peace of mind - and how do you put a price on that?

I was tossed out of Harrods

It's true. I was asked to leave the Holy Grail of Retail today.
It started innocently enough. Keith, my mother and I left the flat on our way to a fun browsing day. After rides on crowded buses and tubes (2 of each) we arrived at Harrods, with our trusty shopping trolley in tow. Faithful readers will remember my beloved rolling cart from previous posts. I take it everyhwere.
If you've never been to Harrods, let me just say that it's really something you have to see to believe. It's a little like Disney World with much higher prices. You don't just "run in" Harrods. You shuffle through, pushed by the crowd. You pick a general direction in which to go and the crowd just takes you, like a giant wave of greedy humanity.
One of the things I've noticed at Harrods is that there are always luxury cars parked outside. This is odd because there doesn't seem to be anywhere to park nearby and most Londoners don't drive to shopping venues. But always around Harrods, there are Bentleys and Rolls Royces. A Mercedes would be slumming for this crowd. And there is always a sunglass-wearing beefy guard standing near the parked cars. Today my mom stood by a Rolls while I snapped her photo. I couldn't see the guard's eyes (sunglasses, remember?) but I could feel the glare. I was hissing, "Don't touch the car!" I didn't want to be arrested!
Well, we walked into the store, moving through the souvenir shop where you can find anything in the world with "Harrods" on it. Aprons, tea towels, bags, tins of candy, gummies, biscuits and chocolate, bears, keychains, tea, mugs, coasters ... you get the idea. They may even have a tattoo shop. It wouldn't surprise me.
We walked through the food halls, which is a tribute to excess. More cheeses than you can imagine. I lost count of the varieties of ham. Jams and curds, breads and pastries and the most beautiful cakes I have ever seen. They looked like works of art with their rolled fondant icing and beautiful decorations. A tiny fruitcake - about the size of a cupcake - was white with a delicate black lacy pattern on it. The tiny cake was 9 pounds 95 pence - about $19. I couldn't take the shock of finding a price on the regular-sized cake. That would be Sugar Sticker Shock.
But if you're a chocoholic, you'll be in heaven at Harrods.
We found everything in chocolate - including some adorable snowmen and Santas - even a chocolate Scrabble game.
We went to one of Harrods 28 eateries for some liquid refreshment, then went in search of the loo. In this posh palace, you can wee for free, but you must go to the lower ground floor, through the pharmacy to find the loo. And then you'll stand in line to use it. Here's a fun fact: the bathroom was smallish and there was an attendant on duty. Her sole duty seemed to be to say, "Next," whenever a stall cleared. But there on the counter, many coins were left to tip her. That is a job I could do - bet you get a discount too.
So then, back upstairs. We were headed to Christmas World and Pet Kingdom. We had bid Keith farewell in the food hall. He was stocking up on olives and fancy cold cuts to take back to the flat so he could watch the Clemson football game while Mom and I geared up for some power shopping.
As we were walking through the perfumerie, a guard approached me.
"Madame," he said. "You cannot bring that trolley into the store."
"What? I have had it in the store for the past two hours," I said.
"Well, you cannot do this. You must check it on the lower ground floor or you must leave the store."
It did not take long to make this decision. Getting to the lower ground floor would take 45 minutes. I was within sight of an exit door.
We decided to leave and not a moment too soon - he led the way to the door and gave me a daggers look when I defiantly stopped at the Penhaligons counter for a sniff of their divine Victorian Posy scent.
What are two gals to do when they're thrown out of London's poshest store?
Well, we kept shopping! We walked to Harvey Nicks, had a wonderful tea with cool little sandwiches, cookies, brownies, scones and a fabulous fruit tart. We looked at purses with buttery-soft leather and heart-attack-inducing price tags - 2,000 pounds for one yummy Balenciaga bag that we both fell in love with. I didn't buy anything there, but Harvey Nicks likes me ... he really likes me! He let me roll my trolley right through his fancy store.
Mom and I were wearing new pedometers and before the night was done, we'd walked about six miles. But alas, in the crush of the bus ride back to Islington, we both lost our pedometers so now we have to guess at how far we're traveling. We may not know the exact mileage, but we're definitely gals on the go.

A Yank at Oxford

Jayne spent the day working in front of the computer, so Keith's writing the blog.
There's a lot to see in London, but there's also more to the UK than London. So our stay here with the students will take them out of the city several times. Today we hit the road for the first time and spent the day in Oxford, a university city of about 125,000 people about 50 miles northwest of London -- just up the Thames River.
It's been one of the world's greatest centers of learning for about 750 years, making America's most venerable old colleges and universities (Harvard and William & Mary, for example) seem brand spanking new by comparison. And Oxford is not a university in the sense that we're familiar with them in the U.S. -- it's a loosely-related collection of 39 colleges, each with its own "campus," which total about 20,000 students.
Our day in Oxford began when we were dropped off by our bus in the town center near the Martyrs' Memorial. It's like a lot of statuary in this country -- a beautiful piece of work which commemorates a violent act. The martyrs were three Church of England bishops who were burned at the stake in the city in 1555 by order of "Bloody Mary," the Catholic queen.
It's a lot more peaceful these days, as long as you can avoid the ever-present bicyclists who sprint up and down the streets, especially in the pedestrian mall area called Broad Street.
Our tour guide took us past several colleges and we spent some time at several Oxford landmarks. One of the most interesting was the Sheldonian Theatre, designed by Christopher Wren, the architect of the magnificent St. Paul's in London. Oxford's buildings have little ornamental touches that reward the careful observer. At the Sheldonian, it's the heads of what folks believe are Roman emperors. On other buildings, it's little creatures called gargoyles who perch along the rooflines.
It's also not a tour of Oxford without hearing about the university's famous former students. We saw the coffeehouse frequented by authors C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien, who were classmates and friends. The poet Shelley was a student here before the administration "sent him down" over a pamphlet he wrote espousing atheism. And of course, Americans are shown Christ Church, the college attended by both former president Bill Clinton and daughter, Chelsea.
School's not in session at Oxford for a couple more weeks, so many of the colleges are closed. But we had the opportunity to enter Magdalen (pronounced "Maud-lin") for a look around. It's a beautiful college, with a garden and deer park and the Thames flowing nearby. It's fun to try to imagine what the life of those students in the 1300s must have been like, and in some respects probably not a lot has changed.
One enduring tradition has to be a visit to an inviting pub, which mom-in-law Emma and I took advantage of following the guided tour. We searched out a place called The Turf Tavern that Jayne and I fell in love with on our first visit to Oxford back in December 2000.
Anyone who can find this charming but out of the way place deserves an honorary degree from the Oxford college of his/her choice. It's at the end of St. Helen's Passage, which it would be generous to describe as an alleyway, and there's been a public house on the site since sometime in the 1400s. (And we talk about campus tradition here …let's see, when will Clemson's Esso Club celebrate its 600th anniversary?)
"An education in intoxication," reads a sign on the wall.
"Best pub in England," I heard one visitor say to a friend as they walked in. I wouldn't disagree. Try the fish and chips with green peas and wash it down with a Strongbow cider.
Our visit ended with some time to wander around. Bookshops abound, as you'd expect in a college town. And even dignified Oxford has its official campus shop with all sorts of Oxford-branded apparel and souvenirs, including shot glasses and umbrellas. (I'm wearing the baseball cap as I write -- free with purchase of a t-shirt. What would the martyrs think?)
It's back to the bus and back down the motorway to the City. The students seem to have enjoyed the trip and one or two wonder what it might be like to go to college there. As long as they're thinking, it's been a successful day.

Mocha's Excellent Adventures

Just a note to let everyone know that our Mocha is doing great with Randi and the Davis girls - labs Winnie and Daisy. Randi is a saint for adding this big and boisterous dog to her household. I'm sure he's a challenge.
She's kind enough to send us regular updates and photos. Here's one with Mocha trumpeting the big last-minute win of his beloved Panthers over the Chargers. If you're reading this, Jerry Richardson, wouldn't he make the cutest mascot?
According to Randi, Mocha is making a good transition from being only pup to one of the pack - with an occasional lapse. Last week she told us that she took the dogs to the bank where Mocha promptly grabbed his treat from the teller at the window - as well as treats intended for Winnie and Daisy. That's our boy!
We sure do miss him - and a big shout-out to Randi for making him part of her home!
Edited to add: Faithful readers have pointed out that Mocha may look as if he is being held under duress in this post. Not at all - Mocha has a very solemn face. But just to show you what a joyous time Mocha is having at Camp Davis, here's a photo Randi took of him on that trip to the bank where he scarfed all the treats. Mocha called shotgun and sat up front while Winnie and Daisy shared the back seat!

Mother Mash ... with Mother!

My mother arrived this morning! I was there to greet her at Gatwick Airport when she stepped off the plane at 8:45 a.m. Of course, there was about a hour between the time she stepped off the plane and I actually SAW her. Customs, you know.
What a day my mom has had! As soon as she arrived, we hopped on the Gatwick Express train and headed back to London's Victoria Station. There, we switched to a bus - the 73 - that winds all through London and ends up in our little borough of Islington. We hopped off the 73 and there was wonderful Keith to meet us! The three of us - and luggage - boarded the 43 and got off about three blocks from the flat. I think she walked through our front door around noon!
That's a lot of ground to cover for anyone, let alone someone who is ... well, old enough to be my mother. But she's a sport and we've had a great day. After she arrived at the flat, we decided to bypass scintillating conversation and just take naps! I had left the flat at 6:45 a.m. to get to Gatwick and was exhausted!
Around 7, we left for dinner, headed for good old Mother Mash. Faithful readers will remember our first trip there last week ... it was such a hit across the pond that guests are requesting a visit there upon arrival.
So, the three of us boarded bus and tube to get to Mother Mash and a fab dinner. Mom did the steak pie thing and Keith went with sausages again. I went wacky and tried a new pie - chicken, ham and leek. It was brilliant, as they say here in London.
We sprang for a celebratory dessert - all of us tried a pudding. Here, puddings are individual sponge cakes, very moist and flavorful, and covered with warm custard. Talk about comfort food! We were all ready for naps again.
But we had miles to go before we could sleep, so it was back to tube and bus. My mom now is a pro at riding the subway. She rode the longest escalator in Eastern Europe and did a lot of walking on some of London's busiest streets. What a day. Now she's having a cup of coffee. She's going to wear US out, I promise.
She's here for two weeks. Hurray!

The Staff of London Life

I used to work for a newspaper that had a number of vending machines in a large break room. One machine held the usual candy bars, chips and gum. One held drinks; another coffee and hot chocolate. The last one was a big rounded machine full of cold things - apples, oranges, bananas, yogurt and the dreaded sandwiches.
I never really saw anyone eat those sandwiches. I was personally frightened by them. They stood on one triangular side, white bread sporting colorful fillings - pimiento cheese, egg salad and what could only be called mystery meat. They seemed to stay in the machine forever.
One of the first times we visited London, we went to one of the department store Food Halls - and there they were - row upon row of wrapped sandwiches, standing on their sides. Here, they're called Takeaway Sandwiches, and they are incredibly popular. You can get them at drug stores (the ones at Boots are supposed to be among the very best), at the supermarket and at department store food halls as well as at special sandwich shops like Pret a Manger and EAT.
Keith loves them. He's intrigued by the combinations and flavors he finds on the shelves. Almost everywhere you'll find Prawn Mayonnaise and Egg Mayonnaise. "Mayonaise" is what we would call "Salad."
Keith's found a few favorites: Cheese and Pickle, which he says is a British cousin to pimiento cheese; Salmon and Cucumber, Roast Chicken and Bacon, Wensleydale Cheese and Chutney. He's also partial to something called a Ploughman's Baguette, which is cheese, tomato, onion, pickle and rocket (salad greens) on a long roll.
The other day, Keith was bringing a sandwich home for himself and he called to ask if I wanted one. I said that a ham sadwich would be fine. When came home, he had a Ham Salad with lettuce, tomato and red onion. It was on the most fabulous bread, a hearty malted brown. I picked off the lettuce, tomato and onion and added some mature cheddar (sharp cheese) from our refrigerator. The ham slices were thick and very tasty. Voila! Perfect sandwich.
Much to my amazement, I have become a fan of the Takeaway Sandwich. Not as big a fan as Keith, whose eyes light up at the idea of what sandwich he'll tackle next. But I unwrap my little sandwich and eat it like a true Londoner.
I still would not touch that thing from the vending machine though.

The Law of the Loo

Back home, we call it the "bathroom," ladies' room, "rest room," "potty," ... even the "john."
In London, it's much more direct - when you need to go, find a "toilet." Some people call it the loo.
Not so much a scintillating subject, but let's face it - everyone has to go. So I am going to tell you the Law of the Loo.
Here it is: Go when you have the chance.
You see, in London, you are not likely to find a public restroom anywhere except a restaurant or a big department store. I was in a three-story drug store the other day when I received an urgent call of nature. This was a BIG store, mind you. So I asked a clerk if they had a public restroom. She smiled and said, "No. Sorry." I wanted to say, "Where in the heck do YOU go?" but trust me, there was not time.
I had to run across Oxford Street, into the HUGE Debenham's Department Store, all the way to the back of the store, take the lift to the top floor, then walk to the other side of the store to find the bathroom.
This is how I came up with The Law of the Loo.
An hour before this potentially tragic event, we had been having a nice, leisurely tea. We got up to leave and it crossed my mind to go to the bathroom. But ... famous last words ... "I don't have to go right now."
Now, if there's a bathroom nearby and I have access to it, I go.
Which brings up another thing you may need to know should be planning to travel to London. This is not a city for the weak of leg. In London, you climb a lot of stairs. If Chicago is the City Of The Big Shoulders, London is the City Of The Strong Calves.
Some places have lifts (elevators) and escalators, but they're not so common. Most of the time, you're going to be hitting the stairs. And not just a few stairs. At times, you will feel as if you are walking down to the dungeon.
Most of time, a restaurant's toilets are located down a flight (or two or three) of precarious steps. If you have quaffed a few ales, you might find it difficult to make your way safely. If you're a person who doesn't need to go "right this minute," change your habits.
It's the Law of the Loo.
I want to add this postscript. Sometimes you will venture to the toilet in the basement of a building that looks pretty dicey (or dodgy, as they would say in London). You might think, "This is going to be worse than any gas station bathroom I've ever encountered."
Wrong.
Bathrooms in this city are clean as a whistle, no matter where they are. They may be tiny with peeling paint and uneven floors, but there is never wet paper on the floor, there is always toilet tissue and soap and a working hand dryer on the wall. The doors on the stalls come all the way down to the floor - total privacy.
So, getting there is a bit rough, but once you arrive, it's sweet - and clean - relief.

Best. Shoes. Ever.

I wanted to give a shout-out to my shoes. You may think this is a frivolous post, but if you're on your feet a lot or planning to walk a lot, you will thank me.
The first time I came to London in 2000, I wore Reebok walking shoes. I felt like I was wearing a neon sign that said "TOURIST." One day I was on the tube and I looked down and noticed I was the only person with light-colored shoes. And they weren't even comfortable for all the walking!
Since then I have worn Ecco shoes on my trips to Europe. They're great and wear well, but they're black and they lace up - not such a great look with a skirt or in late summer.
I found these Josef Seibels at Dillard's at SouthPark. Now I know they're not the best-looking shoes in the world, (Keith calls them my "baseball shoes" because of the white stitches) but I will tell you this: I have worn them every day for 10 days, I have walked a ton and my feet have not hurt once. No blisters, no aches, no pains.
Best. Shoes. Ever.

The Sunday Tradition

When we decided to live in London for a semester, we did not want to lead an American life in England. Of course, we're Americans - proud to be and always will be - but we wanted to really live here and not be tourists for four months. So today we tackled a British tradition - the Sunday Roast.
Almost every pub - and a good many restaurants - feature Sunday roast. It's just what it sounds like - roast beef, usually served with Yorkshire pudding (not a dessert) and veg (not vegetables ... apparently over here, it's just veg.)
We've been looking around all week and gathering suggestions of where to go for our first proper Sunday Roast. So today, we headed for the 'burbs - to the little borough of Ealing - for lunch.
Ealing is a bit of a Tube ride from here but it's a pleasant one. When you get outside Central London, you start to leave the underground stations and actually see trees and green things as the train rolls by. We arrived in Ealing, then walked a few blocks down a picture-postcard street. Our destination: The New Inn.
First a little about Ealing. It's been around for about 7,000 years and is located west of London. A famous movie studio is in Ealing - in fact, it's the oldest one in the world. Among the things that have been filmed there: "The Ladykillers," "Kind Hearts and Coronets," the Monty Python TV show and the Hugh (be still my heart) Grant movie "Notting Hill."
We arrived at the New and immediately realized we'd made a good choice. This wonderful old pub, a rambling old building with a bar at the center, was packed. At this roast, you pay, pick up a ticket and find a table. Then you walk over to a station where meat is carved and veg is put on your plate.
Oh, the variety of roast! I was expecting just beef but was pleasantly surprised to see roast turkey, roast gammon (ham to us), roast lamb and roast pork as well. The veg included carrots, broccoli, fried potatoes, new potatoes, swede (rutabaga), butternut squash, peas, mashed cauliflower and parsnips. And of course, those insanely delicious, melt-in-your-mouth Yorkshire puddings and gravy. Yorkshire pudding is really like a giant popover, batter that is baked in a very hot tin until it puffs up. It's usually served ladled with gravy. It is very much like eating beef-soaked air.
What you're seeing here is my plate. I chose to get just a little beef, as well as some turkey and gammon. I have never tasted such delicious ham. Everything we had was incredible. Sunday Roast at The New Inn was a hit with us! We sat at a small table for two in between two larger tables of families. When one group was leaving, the father lightly bumped the back of my chair. He said, "Sorry," and I said, "That's okay." Then he said, "I am so sorry, love. There's nothing worse than being bumped while you're trying eat your roast."
Random thoughts for today:
** The weather is beautiful today. There's a nip in the air - it's not quite fall, but you can see it coming.
** If you want to do any Sunday shopping in London, you're out of luck after 6 p.m. On the way back from Ealing, all of our high street stores were closed tight at 5, including the market. We walked over to the N1 Centre, thinking we'd hang out in Borders for a while. (Coming back home, we'd ridden the bus through Charing Cross and saw book store after book store. We were bitten by the book store bug, as we often are.) Just as we start browsing at Borders , they made the closing announcement!
** Our high street has a Burger King. I don't eat at BK in the states and I'm not eating there now. But ... I saw a poster that stopped me in my tracks. BK now has a sandwich called the Meat Beast Whopper. Are you ready? It's your standard Whopper, with pepperoni and bacon added. Now there's a heart attack on a plate.
** My hubby walked down to the local pub last night (The Offsides Pub) to watch a World Cup qualifying football match. England beat Andorra, 2-0. That's soccer, you know. He loves it. What a bloke!

If it's raining, this must be London

We've had two days of rain now. Not steady rain, mind you, but a mix of drizzle, downpour and puddles as big as a pond.
I'm not really complaining. I don't mind the rain so much. I rather expected that we'd have a lot of rain, so we came equipped - we both have raincoats and somehow, we've ended up with four folding umbrellas - actually 3.25. One of them is really on its last legs.
It was raining pretty hard when we set out this morning so we rode the bus instead of walking. Public transportation - especially very crowded public transportation - is an experience. I stood beside the smelliest man on earth on the bus today. I couldn't move because the bus was too crowded. The long bus ride gave me time to think. Just how long would you have to go without bathing to smell that bad? Wouldn't you realize that you smelled that bad? Do you reach a point where you just don't care?
I'm such a philosopher.
Today's wanderings took us over to the Bloomsbury Square area. Last year when we were visiting we stayed in this area, and I just fell in love with this big umbrella shop on the corner. It reminds me of something out of Mary Poppins. It's a huge store - they must have every kind of umbrella in the world.
We had to find printer ink and a USB cable today, as well as paper. Electronics stores - plentiful in the Tottenham Court Road area, near Bloomsbury Square - are so different that what we see in the states. No big showrooms for you to browse and play. These are stores with a big counter and clerks behind the counter - you tell them what you want and they bring it out. And we noticed a lot of radios in the shop - not something you find so much at home.
We bought reams of paper at Ryman the Stationer - that name just cracks me up. Ryman reminds me of a store I grew up with, Hinkle's Book Store. It was the back-to-school tradition to head to Hinkle's for notebooks, pens, pencils and paper. They had this huge gray barrel full of Hinkle's pencils beside the cash register - you always had to fish through and pick your favorite colors. I know this sounds like a digression but it's really not - in many ways, you get that feeling about London - a throwback to the way things used to be. Small shops instead of warehouse stores.
But ... obviously, London is very cutting edge. One of our errands today was to activate a cell phone that belongs to the university. Cell phone stores are everywhere - Orange, O2, Carphone Warehouse, Vodaphone - and pay-as-you-go cell service seems to be very popular. There are signs everywhere urging you to "top off" your phone. We did just that with this Nokia phone today. We bought 15 pounds of time - I think that would about cover the monthly taxes and fees on my phone at home.

Last week I bought this cool rolling cart that has come in very handy for shopping. Today it was great since we had heavy paper reams to tote. This bag is quite sturdy. I see a lot of bags like this about town - some are far more elaborate - but I like mine just fine.
Last night we went to Porter's for Keith's birthday dinner. It was excellent, as it always is. I had the same thing I always get there - Fisherman's Pie. This is a little casserole with salmon, cod, prawns (shrimp) in a white sauce with fresh dill and topped with mashed potatoes and cheese. Keith had the steak, Guiness and mushroom pie with a puff pastry crust. All very traditional British and thoroughly enjoyable. I think he had a great birthday - he got more than 50 email and Facebook greetings, so he felt pretty good! After we left the restaurant last night, we walked through Covent Garden, then out to the Strand, which is part of the theater district. I took this shot - it's not very clear, but see that strip of silver between the two buildings? That's a part of the London Eye.

Happy Birthday to Keith!

Today is Keith's birthday. Ironically, it is really the first day since we've been here that we've been apart more than just a couple of hours. Right now, I am drinking my Royal Blend tea and watching it rain.
The school year has now started. The students arrived yesterday - Keith took the train out to Gatwick to meet them and he was back by noon. I had work of my own to do, so I put on my writer hat for a while. When he came back, we took our nifty rolling cart and headed up to the High Street to do a little grocery shopping. We've now become familiar with all the stores in the area and where deals are to be had. We had the students over for a welcome dinner last night. Keith had requested spaghetti and that was a bit of adventure.
Faithful readers will remember that I had a challenge finding the ingredients to make spaghetti sauce. Well, I finally resolved that, and so yesterday we went out in search of ground beef (called mince over here) , fresh bread, parmesan, salad makings, pasta and a birthday cake. We found most things at Tesco Metro. It's a little further to walk but the prices are good. Keith picked out his birthday cake - they didn't have a big selection but he ended up selecting a chocolate cake (big surprise) over the Fairy Cake and the Cheeky Monkey.
We haul our goodies home and I start preparing for the party. I began cooking the sauce, using my Pampered Chef stir-fry pan - my favorite go-to pan. Yes, I brought it from home. I knew I couldn't live for four months without it. It's great for stir-fry, but also for soups, stews and the like.
What I didn't realize until about an hour before we were due to eat is that there was not a single pan in this kitchen to cook pasta in. You need a large pan that allows you to bring water to a rolling boil, then dump in the pasta. Other than the pan in which my sauce was simmering, the biggest pan in this kitchen is a small saucepan. This was a real kitchen emergency - I was beginning to think that I would be spooning sauce over bread! Finally I realized that I could cook the pasta in very small batches. So it took me about an hour to cook a pound of pasta - spaghetti in shifts, you might say.
Anyway, the students arrived and the meal went off without a hitch. We got out the cake, lit eight star-shaped candles and sang happy birthday to Keith. (The cake was small and if I accurately matched candle to year, I would have run out of space. Sorry, honey! You're not getting older, you're getting better!)
We all enjoyed the get-together and decided we'll do it regularly during the semester. I love to cook and will get a bang out of doing it ... but I will definitely check my supplies before I dive in! I'm not homesick in the least (although I do miss my dog!) but I will say that I take having a well-equipped kitchen for granted!
Keith was up early this morning. He and the students went over to the school this morning, then embarked on a coach tour of the city. As I was writing this, he arrived home - the longest we've been apart in nine days. I'm surprised he didn't go over the wall before now!
Tonight, we continue the birthday festivities. We're going to have dinner at Porter's, a traditional English restaurant that we've visited every time we've come to London. If it were my birthday, we might be headed back to Mother Mash, but we'll have to wait a month for that.

We did the Mash

Today we had a late lunch at a restaurant off Oxford and Regent. I had read about this place a while back and made a note of it - it's called Mother Mash. The menu is pretty simple - actually, as simple as 1-2-3. First, you pick your mash - potato, that is.
You can have plain mashed potatoes but I went with Champ Mash - that's traditional Irish mash with milk, butter, cheddar and spring onion. Second, you choose your main. You can pick from sausages (many varieties) or pies. I got an Aberdeen Angus pie. This was a nice crust surrounding chunks of very tender beef, nicely spiced. Last, choose a gravy - I picked a fabulous Onion Gravy, which was carmelized onions in a beef stock gravy. Now, put all this together in a big soup bowl, and that's Mother Mash.
Keith went a different way. He selected a Cheesy Mustard Mash, which had coarse-ground mustard and cheese in the potatoes. He had Lincolnshire sausage, which were pork sausages seasoned with tarragon. (But he copied me on the gravy.) The menu says the pies and sausages are made with "no artificial nonsense or horrible bits."
This was an excellent meal and we will definitely go back. It's in a really cool neighborhood. Just off the alleyway where Mother Mash is located is Carnaby Street. You probably have to be a certain age to appreciate this, but in 1966 to be on Carnaby Street was to be on the hippest street on Earth. In the mid-60s, all mod fashion emanated from this street. As we strolled through the neighborhood, we saw lots of high-end shops - Stella McCartney, Ermenegildo Zegna, Soethby's, Liberty. The purses I saw in store fronts cost as much as my house!
I love to look at the cars as they whiz by. Very few SUVs - in fact, I've seen just one Land Rover and a couple of old (circa 2000) CRVs. Lots of Fiats and Renaults. And of course, Mini Coopers. Today, we spied something different - a G-Wiz.
It is a really tiny car - smaller than a Smart car. I looked it up - it's a totally electric car, made for city driving. They don't advertise. They go 48 miles on a charge. If you drive your car in London, you have to pay a daily congestion charge - but if you drive a G-Wiz, you don't have to pay the charge!

How the other 1 percent lives

Today was a fun day of errands. First stop: a Bureau de Change on High Street Islington, where I changed my $113 into pounds. It was a little depressing when the clerk handed me 56 pounds in exchange for $113! People used to say they were "sound as a dollar." Now, you can be "sound as a pound," but if you're like a dollar, you might as well be dead.
From there, we went to Kings Cross/St. Pancras station to update our Travelcards. This is something we will do weekly. Kings Cross/St. Pancras is a huge station for both underground and the National Rail Service. It's a old station and is where the terrorists set off bombs in 2005.
From there, we took the Tube to Picadilly Circus. My destination was the venerable Fortnum & Mason. I wanted to buy a tin of their wonderful Royal Blend tea.
I went to F&M for the first time in 2000. Keith and I had a lovely tea in their St. James's Restaurant. It was dreafully expensive but so worth it ... it was the ultimate British experience.
F&M is an old department store, founded in 1707. The bottom two floors are a grocery of sorts - in fact, F&M is the Queen's Grocer. You won't see Lizzie gliding a cart down the carpeted aisles - it's the Queen's Grocer by Royal Warrant. It simply means that they're approved to supply goods to the Royal Family.
The lower floor has a selection of meats, cheeses, fruits and vegetables and several rows of assorted goodies.

The sweet potatoes at F&M were the largest ones I have ever seen. (As always, click the photos for a larger view.) I photographed them - leave it to me to haul my Kodak into an upscale grocery store - beside a rather large eggplant, or aubergine, as it is called here.
Then there were the beans. The first ones we saw were called Broadbeans. They were the size of large chiles. The flat beans - top right in the photo - were at least a foot long. Amazing! The rich really are different! They eat gigantic beans!
Below those, we found English peas and the ultra-slim French beans.
Pate was everywhere. I have never warmed to the idea of pate - I'm not a livers kind of gal. Two that caught my eye were a pate of chicken liver, Cointreau and orange, and a Venison terrine of fresh chicken livers, red and white juniper berries and venison. I also saw Boar paste, apparently tasty on toast points. I have to say that it looked simply horrible.
When I get right down to it, I'm a very plain food person. Sauces with reductions, glaces, confits and such are not for me. So I got a bang out of reading the labels.
How about Pickled Hen's Eggs? Five to a glass jar, 4.95 - approximately $2 per egg. They're pickled in malt vinegar, raw sugar, chili flakes, allspice and chiles.
We were fascinated by cubes of sugar made into puzzle pieces. The pieces of white, brown and dark brown sugar looked really fun - but eventually your puzzle is melting into your tea.
How about a tin of Octopus chunks? A can of Haggis?
We did see a few familiar items. Betty Crocker Devil's Food Cake mix sold for 3 pounds, 20 pence - about $6 and you have to make the cake yourself.

I'm saving the best for last - a standard box of Lucky Charms cereal was 8 pounds, 95 pence - about $17. If it were Cap'n Crunch, maybe ... but Lucky Charms??

Visit with an Old Friend

Tonight was a big night for Keith. We had dinner at his favorite London restaurant. He's a happy man.
We discovered Nando's on Jan. 1, 2001. It was a cold, rainy night and after stopping for a cup of tea at a pub on Bayswater Road, we walked and walked around the Notting Hill area. We ended up walking for hours. We were hungry and we spied a place called Nando's. They served peri-peri chicken. We didn't know what that was, but we figured it smelled good and the place looked fun and funky. We decided to try it.
We've never seen it mentioned in any London guidebook and we've read just about every one out there. Nando's is like nothing else. It smells like chicken you just took off the backyard grill. Before they cook the chicken, they marinate it for 24 hours in peri-peri sauce, which is a Portugese spicy sauce.
On that visit to London, we ate at Nando's twice - and we were three days from leaving when we found it.
Since then, we've been back to the UK three times and we've eaten at three other Nando's in London and two in Manchester. It's a chain, but only in the UK.
One thing interesting about Nando's: it is the ONLY London restaurant I have ever seen that gives you free refills on soft drinks. That is truly unheard of here.
Tonight we went to our neighborhood Nando's, which is on the Islington High Street. Oh my gosh, it was soooo good.
Keith got a quarter chicken with medium sauce added. The menu describes medium as "tolerable. A warmer shade of cool." He also got spicy rice and coleslaw.
I got a grilled chicken breast on toasted "pitta" and chips, which are French fries. My sandwich was wonderful. It was nicely marinated but not spicy - which was truly a blessing because I've had a little tummy trouble since my arrival.
Nando's is very affordable, very filling. We'll definitely recommend it to the students when they arrive on Thursday. We also saw an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet in the N1 Center (a shopping center in Islington) that was 5 pounds 50 p for lunch. Sounds like student food to me.

Random thoughts for Monday:
** Hard to find at the market: Canned tomato products. I wanted to make spaghetti sauce. I looked for tomato paste and tomato sauce at several stores. American grocery stores are full of canned food. Not so in London markets. About the only "tinned" food you see are canned spaghetti (made by Heinz), a small selection of soups and baked beans (also by Heinz). Finally found a box of chopped tomatoes and a tube of tomato paste.
** We're mastering the bus system. Our bus is the 43. It stops a block or so from the flat. It has turned a bit chilly and having a handy bus is a nice thing.
** A big news story over here since we arrived is the story of a family in Shropshire whose million-pound mansion burned down early Tuesday morning. The fire was horrific and slowly but surely they're finding bodies in the rubble. It looks like the father shot the family, then burned down the house. It's all over the BBC and SkyNews. And so is Gustav.
** Our SlingBox is working really well. It's attached to our TV at home and through our computers we can see exactly what we could watch in our living room at home. So Keith got to watch a little Clemson football (which turned out not to be so great) and I got to watch "Mad Men." Technology is unbelievable. I'm ready to do an ad for SlingBox!