Back in the USA

We're back.
A lot of this week I've thought about exactly what I was doing a week ago and I'm doing so with a little bit of sadness and lot of fond remembrance. We had one terrific journey.
Let me tell you a little about coming back. What an ordeal! The coach picked us up at the flat at 7:40 a.m. We had done most of our packing early in the week but what came over nicely in four checked bags and four carry-ons had morphed into five checked bags and five carry-ons. Could it have been the 12 Christmas ornaments I bought - all breakable, of course? The souvenirs and gifts for friends and family? A few books we picked up along the way?
You should have seen us. Keith would step on the scale for a starting weight, then lift up a suitcase. I would crawl down under the suitcase to read the scale upside down. We shifted items from suitcase to suitcase. No matter how much shifting and sifting we did, we were facing some fees.
At the airport, the lines were snaking around all over the place - apparently the baggage conveyor belt had broken and that was causing huge delays. When we finally got to check in, our patience was rewarded with an angel at the counter. All but one of our bags exceeded the weight limit and we had an extra to boot - but she only charged us $50. We were thrilled!
The flight home was a piece of cake for me. I slept from the time I sat down to about an hour before we landed. I always sleep on planes - lucky for me.
Our wonderful friend Rhonda picked us up in her huge van, which was good because we had all that luggage ... and we had a dog to pick up on the way home!
When we walked in the door at Randi's, Mocha was joyous. He seemed a little overwhelmed so he really focused on Keith. Randi gave us such a wonderful gift - she had a hardback book made full of the photos she took of Mocha while we were gone. It's titled "The Adventures of Mocha." What a keepsake!
The first thing that hit me when I got home was how warm and cozy our house looked, as opposed to the stark white and blonde wood floors in the flat. We slept so well - our bed was incredible. And doing laundry was a pleasure!
Our first big culture shock came on a trip to Harris Teeter on Sunday night - all the choices! 100 salad dressings instead of three. 30 types of mustard instead of one. Hardly any prepared food.
So, we're back to normal life - putting up a Christmas tree, cooking and cleaning, working and driving again.
I have several more blogs to post, so keep checking!

Last Day

Today is our last full day in London, and it was a perfect one, complete with a few snow flurries, long walks in some favorite spots, dinner at the best restaurant in London (in our humble opinion!), a couple of museum stops and some impromptu squirrel feeding.

Both of us had to work this morning so work complete, we set out with purpose around noon. We had a lot to cram into a few hours. First stop: the British Museum, where we checked out two new exhibits, one on clocks and time and the other on money.

Keith loves watches, so he really enjoyed going back in time (pardon the pun) to see how clock-making began. We saw so many different clocks - very ornate ones made by the most painstaking of British clockmakers. At first, only royalty and the very wealthy had clocks in their homes. Many of them were so large they would only fit in a palace!

Across the way, we walked through the history of money, looking at coins that were 2,500 years old all the way up to debit cards and other plastic from the modern era. One Greek coin was bigger than a medallion - try putting that huge piece in a vending machine!

From there, we walked down to Westminster and into St. James's Park, which I wrote about yesterday. It's truly one of the most beautiful spaces in all of London. There's a lake there, and a bridge that gives you a couple of the best views in London. Wildlife abounds in this park - all kinds of waterfowl, birds and squirrels. Both the big ducks and squirrels will come right up and eat from your hand. One of the squirrels ran up my leg to get a tiny piece of peanut. They're not greedy in the least - they're quite happy to take one piece, jump down and chew it. I had so much fun with those sweet tame squirrels.

From St. James's, we walked across the road and down by Clarence House, the smaller palace that's home to Charles and Camilla, then up Queen's Walk through Green Park. It's a smaller park, but very pretty.

Our next stop was the National Gallery, which is a must-see for anyone who comes to London. First, it's free. Second, it has some of greatest art treasures you'll ever see. I love to look at paintings from the 1400 and 1500s - it amazes me that I am seeing something so beautiful that was an artistic vision 500 or 600 years ago. You could spend all day - and then some - at the Gallery. We stayed until closing time. It's hard to leave on your own.

The National Gallery sits on Trafalgar Square, which is one of Keith's favorite places in the world. Mine too - especially during the Christmas season. A huge Christmas tree is placed there - a gift from Norway as a thank you for Britain's help during World War II. At nightfall, choirs gather in front of the tree and sing holiday songs. It's hard for me to keep a dry eye as I watch that incredible sight.

Our night was capped at DaMario's, a restaurant we have come to love here in London. It's in Covent Garden on Endell Street. It is a tiny restaurant where all the pasta is housemade and the service is kind and caring. Our friends, the Drysdales, steered us there, and we love it as much as they do. In fact, last week they told us they'd just returned from Rome and they found no restaurant there as good as DaMario. Tonight, Keith got casarecci with meatballs and I got my usual - ravioli with spinach in brown butter and sage sauce. It was the perfect "last meal" in London.

So our night ended early - we were home by a little after 9 p.m. We got a chance to ride the Tube and bus "one last time" and see twinkling lights on our high street for the last time this festive season.

I'll sign off now - we have suitcases to weigh and lots to do before 7:30 a.m. Wish us happy and safe travels. About 24 hours from now, God willing, our feet are back on North Carolina soil.

Going Underground with Churchill

When I was in school, World War II definitely got short shrift. In American History classes, we'd start off strong with Jamestown, the Pilgrims and the Revolutionary War and spend a lot of time on the Civil War. The Industrial Revolution was good for a week or two. By the end of the school year, we talked a little about World War I and very little about World War II. It was pretty much: "We were the good guys, the Germans, Japanese and Italians were the bad guys. Ask your parents about the rest."
You see, I was part of the generation where all the dads were in the war and all the moms remembered rationing.
So when it comes to World War II, I'm fascinated. And I have learned a lot about both wars while here in London, visiting museums. London - and the Brits - withstood an awful lot.
Today I visited the underground nerve center for the British forces in World War II - the Cabinet War Rooms. It's a fascinating self-guided tour, showing the room where Prime Minister Winston Churchill met with his war cabinet as well as radio rooms, sleeping rooms, map rooms and even a fully functional kitchen. The men directing Britain's part in the war stayed underground for six years - during the Blitz, while London was bombed night and day by the Germans, the Cabinet were underground, with six feet of concrete between them and the building above.
Churchill had a bedroom - a simple single bed with his cigars nearby and maps covering the walls - but he rarely slept in it at night. He was known to nap there for an hour most afternoons. Another perk of being prime minister: He had access to the only underground flushing toilet. The others ... well, made other arrangements.
It was interesting to hear video clips - of Churchill's famous speeeches and of a phone call between Churchill and brand-new U.S. President Harry Truman.
On an even lower floor, typists, secretaries and non-officer personnel were provided cots in which to sleep. Rats were a problem in those lower rooms and there was no privacy and little contact with the outside. A sign hung on the wall, telling the workers in the war rooms what the weather was like outside.
On V-J Day, when the war finally ended, workers walked out and left the rooms as they were - and that's how you see the rooms today. Original paint, original furniture.
When I walked out of the war rooms and up the stairs to ground level, it was barely still light outside. It's getting darker much earlier - it was about 3:45 p.m. when I came out, and it's cold today.
Still, I couldn't resist crossing the street to take a stroll through St. James's Park. It's so beautiful - this oasis of nature a stone's throw from the Houses of Parliament. As I walked down the path, big hungry ducks and cygnets came close to me, hoping for a treat. I wish I'd had something to throw at them.
I ended up coming out of the park, walking through Admiralty Arch and straight to Costa Coffee, where I drank a big cup of tea to ward off the chill. One more day.

The End of the Blog?

Forty-eight hours from this very moment, we'll be gliding (I hope) into the air above Gatwick Airport, on our way back to the USA.
Does that mean the blog will go away?
We still have a lot of London adventures to share. Sometimes in the day to day, we couldn't find time to get them all down. So, once we get home and sort all the photos out, expect to see some more posts here on And Blog's Your Uncle.
We hope that our blog can be a guide to people who plan to visit London, and to that end, we're planning to compile a list of our favorite things to do and places to eat and shop.
So keep checking. It's hard to keep us quiet. I guess you can take the bloggers out of London, but you can't take London out of the blog.

I Coulda Been A Stalker

I'm a Beatles fan, so it goes without saying that I'm a fan of Paul McCartney - or Sir Paul, as he is known here in the UK. I loved him as a Beatle and if he never did anything after writing "All My Lovin'," that would be enough. But for more than 45 years, he's been making great music. And let's face it, he is absolutely the cutest 66-year-old guy around.
Paul has a farm in Scotland but when he's in London - which is a lot of the time - he lives in the same house he's lived in since the mid-'60s. It's on Cavendish Avenue, in the St. John's Wood area, a couple of streets over from Abbey Road.
When you get off the Tube at St. John's Wood, there's a little Beatles memorabilia shop, so you know you're in the right area for Beatle spotting. Ringo lives in LA now, John and George are gone, so the one you're going to see is Paul.
St John's Wood is a well-heeled area and there's an American school there, so there are a number of ex-pat families living there, including our friends, the Drysdales. Over dinner Saturday night, they told us that Paul sighting are quite common in the neighborhood. He's lived there for most of his adult life - and if you'll pardon the pun - people around there just let him be.
It's well-known in St. John's Wood that Paul goes to Panzer's Deli just about every morning at 7:45 a.m. The man loves his bagels.
Would I like to actually see Paul McCartney? Yes, definitely. Would I walk up, say hello, ask for his autograph, take his picture? Absolutely not.
I've always had a "thing" about celebrities. I can admire their work, but in the end, I think they're just people. Playing the music is good enough for me.
Plus, to actually stake out Paul at Panzer's, I'd have to take one bus and make three Tube changes - during rush hour - to get up there by 7:45 a.m.
I love "Jet," "Michelle," "Hey Jude," "Yesterday," and "Let It Be," but I guess not enough to stalk the man while he's picking up his morning bagel.

An Old Tiger and a Cold War

( Keith here. In the interest of ethical blogging, I'll reveal that this entry is one that we should have done some time ago, but just haven't gotten around to it. Our time here is running short, and we felt like we finally had to get this one in.)
There are lots of wonderful museums in London, and it's impossible to get to all of them. But one that we wanted to make sure we visited this time, because we hadn't returned since our first trip here late in 2000, was the Victoria & Albert Museum.
Located in the South Kensington area, it's named, of course, for Queen Victoria and her beloved Prince Albert, who dedicated it when it was founded in 1851 as the Museum of Manufactures. It's been the Victoria & Albert Museum since 1899, when the Queen made one of her last public appearances at the dedication and naming of the current building.
The "V&A" as it's called, isn't as big as the massive British Museum, but it has a collection that rivals its better-known competitor, with 80 miles of corridors. It is one of the best places in the world to see the history of applied arts -- ceramics, glass, textiles (including some fascinating clothing exhibits), ironwork, sculpture, prints and photographs.
The scope of the museum makes it hard to cover everything that's there, but we'll show you one of our favorite pieces -- a statue from India that dates from around the 1790s called "Tippoo's Tiger." Jayne remembered it well enough from our first visit to make a beeline right to it when we started looking at the main collection.
The wooden statue, which belonged to the Indian ruler Tipu Sultan, depicts a tiger devouring a helpless Western soldier, probably British. Inside the tiger is a metal organ which makes noises that simulate the roar of the animal and the shrieks of his victim. Fun stuff.
In addition to being a neat piece of artwork, the statue is a commentary on Great Britain's status then as an imperial power, which was not always well-received by the countries the Brits invited themselves to. (One of my students this semester interviewed some folks in front of the British Museum who observed that museums in their native country, Australia, didn't have anything like the antiquities you find in museums here. "That's because we don't go to other countries plundering their things," they added, not in a complimentary way.)
But the main attraction for our visit this time was not the ancient stuff. One of the special collections at the V&A this fall has been entitled "Cold War Modern Design, 1945-1970." As we have noted previously, we've both become interested in this period of history and how the design of things reflected the conflicts that were going on in the world at the time. See our previous entries on the Atomium and the 1958 World's Fair from our trip to Brussels and the boxy Communist-era buildings we saw in Budapest.
The exhibit covered these things and much more -- lots of exhibits of plastic furniture and clothing and some interesting building plans, some that became reality and some that didn't. One of the more quirky was some drawings by the great French architect Le Corbusier of a plan for an Olympic Stadium in Baghdad, in anticipation of a bid by Iraq for the 1960 Games which didn't quite happen. Reminded me a little of Beijing's "Birds Nest" Olympic stadium.
So it was appropriate that to top off our day, as we left the Cold War retrospective, we set out for that triumph of Western capitalism and design, the supermarket. Tesco, Great Britain's largest grocery store chain, has what to us is the closest thing we've seen to an American-style supermarket out on Cromwell Road, reachable from the V&A by a bus ride and a few blocks' walk. Two floors, rest rooms, a Costa Coffee cafe and a car park. Lots of different brands, good quantities of items. No waiting in endless lines for drab merchandise. We grabbed a few things, paid up and headed for home, glad that that old Cold War turned out the way it did.
A RANDOM NOTE: We had one of those "small world" encounters tonight. We've blogged previously about the huge new Westfield mall that opened at the end of October. We had a shopping errand to do out there tonight and decided to have dinner at a restaurant called The Real Greek. It turned into quite a feast -- we haven't had much grilled meat here this fall and we had some tender skewers of chicken, pork and lamb with some tasty accompaniments.
Our waiter was a pleasant young man who made note of the fact at the end of our meal that we didn't seem to be English. Oddly enough, he could tell by our accents! And he began to list some places in the U.S. that he had lived while he worked with the Royal Caribbean cruise line and was a waiter on a ship called the Radiance of the Seas.
That was the ship on which Jayne and I took a wonderful Alaska cruise in the summer of 2003. Our waiter's job, as it turns out, was in the Chops steak house on that ship, a place where Jayne and I spent a very relaxing evening the night our ship left Juneau. And further, it turns out he was on that very same cruise -- which we all remembered for the fact that, early on our last day at sea, the Radiance rescued four fishermen whose boat had capsized in the choppy Pacific Ocean waters.
Just one more in a series of memorable moments that have made up this unforgettable experience. And if you're ever in London, definitely stop in at The Real Greek. It's the real thing.

Saturday Surprise

From the time we woke up, it was like a drumbeat in our heads - last Saturday in London. Last Saturday in London.

We decided to spend it in a favorite way - walking around, just taking in the sights - and having an early dinner at one of our favorite restaurants, Wahaca, in Covent Garden.

Wahaca is a Mexican restaurant we discovered in early October. They describe their menu as "Mexican street food." What we love about it is that the food is truly fresh and delicious, really unlike any Mexican food we've ever eaten. The first time we went to Wahaca we were seated next to another American couple and their young son. We had a nice conversation about adapting to London life and they told us about some of their favorite restaurants, which now are our favorites. These folks have great taste!

Tonight we walked into Wahaca and were standing in line for a table when a lady turned around with a huge smile on her face and greeted us. It was Heidi Drysdale, our friend from way back in October.

She and her husband Doug and son Jake invited us to join them for dinner. We had a great time visiting with them. They're in London for a year and they live up in St. John's Wood, right beside Abbey Road studios.

The Drysdales eat at Wahaca every Sunday night so running into them tonight was really serendipitous. They hadn't gone last Sunday because they spent Thanksgiving weekend in Rome, and they were craving a Wahaca fix. We were so glad to see them again. They are such a nice family and we enjoyed spending time with them. It made the night festive and not as sad as it might have been.

After we said goodbye, we headed south toward the Thames and ended up walking across Waterloo Bridge. What a view! Of course, it was night and my camera takes lousy night photos, so I can't actually show you how gorgeous it is. But the lights of London and the shimmering water is a sight you never get tired of seeing.

Once we crossed the bridge, we started hearing live Christmas music. As we walked into Waterloo station, we ran into buskers playing very festive music. Waterloo Station is a vast station that includes railway and several underground lines. It has a very old-fashioned look. To add to that tonight, we saw a number of well-dressed gentlemen in black tie, one even wearing a top hat. On their way to the theater, perhaps ...

No such excitement for us tonight. We walked home in the cold and tucked in for the night. Our last Saturday was a good one.

One Last Round

As I write this, we're heading into our final week in London. I'm approaching this week with mixed emotions: I will be glad to get back to my family and friends, to play with my big brown dog, to do laundry in a real washing machine - one that doesn't turn white clothes that lovely shade of gray, to sleep on the softest sheets and the best mattress in the world.
What will I miss? The list is way too long! I love so much about this city - several times a day as I walk down the wide, damp sidewalks or climb the stairs at the Tube station or even wait to cross a busy street, I say a prayer of thanks and gratitude to have had this opportunity.
Today I had a lovely lunch with the daughter of one of my best customers. Jennifer grew up in Charlotte and three years ago, married a fellow who had been transferred from Charlotte to London. She's spent her entire married life here and she absolutely loves it. She was kind enough to reach out to me before we came here and getting our schedules worked out has been tough, but we finally had that lunch today.
We met at the Baker Street tube station (if you're a child of the '70s, you're probably humming the Gerry Rafferty tune right now) and from there, walked to Marylebone High Street. I'd never been in that area, and neither had Jennifer, so we were exploring new territory. I'm so glad we did. The area was wonderful - very quaint, all small shops and cafes, no big chains. We ate lunch at Carluccio's, and believe it or not, we ate outside. It was clear and chilly, but the restaurant had tall heater lamps to keep us nice and warm. Jennifer loves the ex-pat life; she and her husband have filled up their passports with travels to Europe and beyond. It was so much fun visiting with her. After lunch, we walked a few blocks to the Oxford High Street and into Selfridges (see photos below) where I had a bit of holiday shopping to finish.
We had been talking at lunch about dogs and were amused to discover that both of us had pets named Biscuits and Muffins while we were growing up. That led to talk of Biscuit, the animatronic dog I wrote about a few months ago.
Update: Biscuit is still in the stores but he's been reduced to 99 pounds, down from 149. We went to find him (Jennifer had not seen him yet and I was anxious to show him off) and what we found was a limp, ragged-looking dog with zero pep. It seems a little girl threw him around on Thursday and ... well, broke him. We tried to get him to do a trick and soon, a crowd gathered. An older lady wanted to buy a Biscuit but insisted that she see him perform his full round of tricks first - naturally. She told us she wanted him because it would be like having a real dog but without the mess. "And you don't have to walk him," Jennifer said. The lady smiled at her and said, "You Americans are lazy." We thought that was pretty funny - since we had walked all over London earlier. There were probably 10 of us gathered around, all of us well over 21 - and then some. I was telling the crowd all about this talented dog and his coterie of tricks and I encouraged them not to leave until they saw him in action. As we anxiously waited for the sales clerk to put batteries in a new Biscuit, an older gentleman said, "Look at us. This is a children's toy and we're all standing here, not a child in sight."
The lady who thought we were lazy said, "Well, children don't know how to treat him."
After New Biscuit went through his round of commands, she bought one and so did another lady. I missed my calling, I'm afraid. I should sell Biscuits.

Holidays on the High Street

I didn't grow up as a mall kid. The mall in my hometown (Winston-Salem, NC) actually opened just before my sophomore year in college, so I spent my living-at-home years shopping at shopping centers or downtown.

What I remember best about that very dated mode of shopping is the windows and their beautiful displays. When I was a kid, I would see a toy in the window of Tiny Town and I wanted to go in and get it. When I got older, it was clothes in the window of Arcade, Robins or Thalhimer's. The window display moved you right into the store.

That's the real joy of high street shopping here in London. Yes, there are malls, but they're few and far between. The real shopping action takes place on the main street of each borough, and that's referred to as the high street. Islington, where we live, has a high street. It's a small area, but there are clothing stores, shoe stores, drug stores, supermarkets, charity shops, boutiques, restaurants and of course, Starbucks. Two of them, three blocks apart.

The best high streets in London are Bond Street and Regent Street. That's where all the big department stores are - the behemoths that fill a city block and have six or seven stories of everything you can imagine.

The economy is rough here too. That's kind of good news for Americans who are here - the dollar was $1.98 to the pound when we arrived; now it's about $1.45 to the pound. American dollars go further now. It's a great time to visit the UK!

Last week, all the Christmas lights came on. The stores now are fully decorated and Christmas songs play as you shop. The window displays are stunning.

Selfridge's windows take my breath away. Their motto for this shopping season is "The More The Merrier." They've carried the theme out in each window, with Santa in a number of everyday poses. Each window is a separate, elaborate scene. In one, Santa is in a barber chair; in another, he's pushing a cart down the aisle in a grocery. In another window, he's soaking in a tub - with his red suit on, of course! These windows are so inventive and so much fun to look at. There are plenty of them, because Selfridge's is a monster building.

Down the street, Debenham's is decorated to look like a giant package. And over in the Covent Garden/Seven Dials area, the street decorations are just gorgeous.

Click on the photos to see them full size. They're quite something to behold!

Random notes: Tonight we ate a much-needed bowl of chicken soup (we have colds!) at Harry Morgan, a NY-style deli that's been in London since 1948. There are a couple of locations, but we went to the one in St. John's Wood High Street, just a few streets over from Paul McCartney's home and a few more streets away from the famed Abbey Road. Paul's a pretty famous vegetarian so I didn't expect to run into him in an establishment that specializes in salt beef sandwiches. But, really how cool would that be??

*** I popped into Harrod's today to pick up a tin of tea and decided to browse a bit in the section they call Pet Kingdom. Oh, how I wish I'd had my camera. Pet Kingdom makes PetSmart look like The Dollar Store. The luxury! This is when you truly want to lead a dog's life. They had about a hundred collars. I saw one I thought would look good on Mocha ... but quickly put it up when I saw the price - 35 quid! That's about $52 US for a dog collar!

The dog clothing was hysterical. They had London police coats for your dog as well as leather jackets, sweaters of all kinds and every kind of bowl you can imagine. Not to mention some of the most gorgeous blankets you've ever seen!

I feel like such a neglectful pet owner. My dog has worn the same collar for nearly four years and he eats from a stainless steel bowl. He seems happy, though - I hope there's not a dog therapist in our future!

*** Men in London carry bags. They're smaller than briefcases, like purses, with shoulder straps. I noticed on the tube today that almost every man, especially those in suits, carry them.

Missing Blogger Returns!

Sorry I took a little hiatus there. We're operating at fever pitch here - as Keith said, we're smack into the round of "last times," and it would impossible for me to express how sad that makes us. We've had such a good time here - really better than we had ever expected. We've grown so fond of life here. I feel a bit like Cinderella with an eye on the clock, and midnight is fast approaching.

While Americans were being trampled at the mall, we spent the media-created Black Friday (don't get me started on THAT one) in lovely Cambridge. One of the nicest things about living in London and our flexible schedules is that we can decide we want to go somewhere and be on a train 30 minutes later. So Friday morning, we headed to St. Pancras Station to hop on the Capitol Connect train to Cambridge, a journey that took less than an hour.

Oxford, which we wrote about in early September, and Cambridge are Britain's oldest and most prestigious universities. They're both made up of a number of colleges - you eat, sleep and take your classes within the confines of your college. Of Cambridge's 31 colleges, Kings College may be the most famous; it certainly is breathtakingly beautiful. Look at the lush green grass, so well-tended in late November.

Cambridge celebrates its 800th anniversary next year. Can you imagine? What a thrill to walk those streets, amid those fine old buildings and think about the people who have passed through - Prince Charles, Sylvia Plath, Isaac Newton, Charles Darwin, Francis Bacon ... the list goes on. Tall cotton, as we say back home.
We spent quite a bit of time walking the winding stone streets, dodging bicyclists. Bikes seem to be the preferred mode of transportation in Cambridge - they're all over town. I would love to have hopped on one myself.
We spent a big chunk of time in the Fitzwilliam Museum, not far from Cambridge city centre. This museum, started with a bequest from Richard, VII Viscount Fitzwilliam of Merrion in 1816. He left not only his valuable collection but money to keep the museum going. Many refer to the Fitzwilliam as the finest small museum in Europe.Is isn't large, but it houses an eclectic collection of antiquities, painting, sculpture and decorative arts. They have a fine collection of Italian Renaissance art, which I love. We really spent too much time there because by the time we got out, it was starting to get dark – which it does about 4:15 p.m. here. That meant we didn’t get to see the River Cam or walk over the Mathematical Bridge, which was something we really wanted to do.

It was very intimidating being in the presence of such great young minds. While waiting at a crosswalk, we spotted some graffiti. Here's how geniuses deface public property.
We walked back into town, browsed a few shops and stopped for a cup of coffee because a chill was starting to set in.
We both fell in love with Cambridge and wish we had time to go back. I’ll bet it’s gorgeous in the spring.

We hopped on the train to head back to London and when we arrived, we walked a few blocks to a favorite restaurant for a "last meal." It's called North Sea Fish and it's one of our three favorite "chippies" in London. It's a lovely, quaint restaurant - you have the feeling of eating a fancy dinner at your great-aunt's house. Portions are huge - in fact, Keith and I split a small platter of cod and chips and were plenty full. When you're at North Sea, always, always save room for dessert. Their traditional English desserts are wonderful, especially the Sherry Trifle and the Bread and Butter Pudding with Warm Custard. Split that, too. North Sea is famous for big portions!