Dispatch # 39 London, England

Dispatch # 39 London, England June 2005 “Magnificent Palaces, Loathsome Towers and Memorable Dates” It was a relatively short drive from Borculo near the eastern border of The Netherlands to Amsterdam on the western side. Before we could go to the airport, however, we needed to find the office of Renault. After two months, it was time to return the van that we had driven throughout a good portion of Western Europe. During our trip preparation, Elizabeth ran across a car-leasing program while surfing the Internet that seemed too good to be true. The program, Renault’s Eurodrive, offered a full-sized mini-van with an extended lease term. Not just any van either, a brand new seven passenger, fully loaded mini-van for hire. Originally, we had planned on flying between destinations in Europe and renting cars as needed, but once we did some calculating, we discovered that the costs of the lease program, when compared to the costs of the various individual car rentals alone, was half of the expense. It also afforded us a great opportunity to tour the beautiful countryside’s of Italy, France and The Netherlands and to investigate some the beautiful cities and towns along the way. Two months ago, we picked up our new van at Rome’s Fiuminicino airport. Renault did not have a local office, so we met the representative outside one of the terminals. When it got around to signing the paperwork, I noticed that the majority of the documents clearly treated this as a purchase of a new van. Accompanying the sheaf of documents, which by the way included a promissory note from us to Renault for $ 55,000, was a one page agreement that purported to clarify the legal relationship as a lease and not a purchase, subject, of course, to terms and conditions listed in two point font on the back side of the document. When I asked for a little more comfort that I was not really purchasing a new van, the Italian representative laughed and said, “Don’t worry, just return the car to Amsterdam.” Perhaps, I would have found his assurance a bit more comforting if it hadn’t been for the fact that while we were conducting our “meeting” at a small table in the corner of an airport snack bar; the representative was clearly distracted, periodically looking over my shoulder into the terminal and motioning for his colleagues to retrieve this or that; and he kept interrupting our conversation to make cell phone calls. After a considerable amount of effort (read driving around lost) we found the address of the Renault “office” in Amsterdam. The address we were seeking was displayed on the second story of a windowless aluminum clad industrial building set atop a gas station. There was no signage and no one answered when I knocked on the door. So, as you might imagine, my curiosity (read anxiety) about how this story would end was heightened. The cynic in me was waiting for the proverbial “other shoe to drop” as we attempted to return our “purchased” (wink, wink) van after two months and 8,000 kilometers of hard use. As I sat on the steps, my mind replayed the scenario, we found it on the Internet, never met with anyone until Rome, signed a purchase contract and promissory note and gave our credit card and bank account information as security to a harried and disheveled representative at a snack bar at the airport in Rome, and we have arrived in Amsterdam to a nondescript warehouse with no sign of activity. To my surprise and complete relief, a large, gregarious Dutchman, Hans, arrived a half an hour later and introduced himself as our Renault representative, took our keys, stamped our promissory note “cancelled” and drove us to our departure terminal. It would have made for a better story if we had been stuck with the car and our bank account had been drained of thousands, but in keeping with most of our trip, everything worked out fine and Elizabeth’s discovery of the lease program turned out to be one of the best deals of the trip. We flew from Amsterdam to London on one of the European discount air carriers, Easy Jet. The fare was substantially lower than any offered by the larger, longer established airlines. In fact, when we found the airfare on the Internet, we were stunned. The fare was ten Euro, or around thirteen Dollars. Discount carriers like Easy Jet and Ryan Air have revolutionized the European market with their deeply discounted, no-frills, air transportation. Upon our arrival at London’s Gatwick airport, our seasoned band of explorers immediately sprang into action and within a short period of time, one not imaginable at the beginning of our trip; we had passed through the airport, collected our luggage and were heading towards London town. During our trip, we had taken the opportunity to divest ourselves of several pieces of checked luggage, a number now down from six to two. However, even with this lightened load, these remaining bags when combined with our carry-on luggage meant that we still had a cart full. Is it just my imagination, or has every luggage trolley in the world been designed to pull hard to the left. No matter how many times I stopped to reposition the bags or changed the direction of the force that I was exerting on the cart, it would inevitably head to port, as though drawn by a powerful magnetic force. No matter what we tried, the end result was always the same. As we waited for the train, Bella and Maddie were treated for various cart related injuries, lacerated shins or bruised heels while I stood groaning and massaged my aching forearms. We had a jolly old time in London. After availing ourselves of London’s public transportation options, taking a combination of two above ground trains and the London Underground, we arrived at Waterloo Station. From there, it was a long, but manageable walk to our hotel, the London Marriott County Hall located on the South Bank of the Thames, directly across from Parliament. It was a great base from which to explore London and we had stunning views out our windows of both the historic, Westminster and the famous “Big Ben” clock tower as well as the ultra modern, London Eye, London’s giant “Ferris“ wheel observatory. Each day we would walk out the front door of the hotel and we would immediately be surrounded by sea of pedestrians working their way across the Westminster Bridge. Between the two lanes of foot traffic, the wide expanse of Bridge Street was full of the red double decker buses and the iconic black taxis for which London is famous. One of our first observations was the remarkable diversity of London’s residents. Walking along London’s crowded streets; we came upon people representing almost every conceivable ethnic background. Just along the two block span of side streets flanking our hotel, we encountered restaurants specializing in Indian, Thai, Indonesian, Italian, Japanese, Chinese, Turkish and traditional English fish and chips. We ate as well in London as we did anywhere during our trip. We also quickly came to the realization that London would be the most expensive stop along our journey. Although we were fortunate to be able to use a substantial portion of our Marriott Rewards points for our accommodations in London, the relative weakness of the U.S. Dollar against the British Pound meant that we still shed a lot of Pounds during our stay in England. When we made an estimate of how much our world trip would cost, we never took into account the possibility that during our time abroad, the U.S. Dollar would lose nearly twenty-five percent of its value against most foreign currencies. As a result, our trip would end up costing tens of thousands of dollars more than we had anticipated. No one was more excited than the girls when we finally arrived at our hotel in London. Although they may have shared some of their parents’ eagerness to see the wonders that London had to offer, their exceedingly high level of excitement and enthusiasm was due to the fact that their close buddies from Chicago, Austen and Isabelle Friend, were going to arrive with their grandparents in London in two days. Along our journey, we have been blessed by a few familiar faces from back home, Todd in Sydney, John in Johannesburg, Steve who joined us in Phuket, Thailand, our relatives, Doug, Sabrina and Louise and our neighbors from Chicago, Jane and Bob, who visited us in Tuscany, Italy and, most recently, the week spent with our Dutch family. In each instance, the children had been as excited, if not more, than Elizabeth and I. However, we were approaching the eve of a very special event. This would be the first time in over ten months that the girls had seen any of their friends from home. The anticipation was palpable. Before we departed on our trip, we had tried to consider what affect leaving friends and classmates would have on the children, especially, Maddie and Bella. During our travels, we had encouraged them to correspond with their friends through email. They made a concentrated effort, but the distance and lack of daily contact clearly put a strain on the relationships they had left behind. Along the way, Maddie and Bella often wondered out loud whether their friends, with few exceptions, had forgotten them. Most of the time, their apprehensions were not readily apparent. However, once in awhile, at the end of the day, they would voice their concerns, usually accompanied by tears, that their buddies back home had moved on without them. Elizabeth and I would sit on the edge of their beds late into the night trying to comfort them. So, as the arrival of old friends from Chicago grew near, Bella’s and Maddie’s emotions seemed to alternate between anxiety and excitement. In their minds, this would be a litmus test. Would this long awaited interaction be comfortable, would it feel like they had never been apart, or would it be awkward or distant? When Austen and Izzy finally joined us at our hotel, we could have lit up London with the amount of energy and excitement that filled our hotel room. Fortunately, the reunion was a success. They all seemed to get along as though the time and distance that had passed was of little consequence. It was great to see Bella and Maddie so happy. They all spent the first couple hours talking a mile a minute as they caught up on each other’s lives. Over the course of the next few days, we enjoyed joining Austen, Isabelle and their grandparents on various sightseeing tours, including trips to the Tower of London and Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum. Before and after the arrival of our comrades from Chicago, we enjoyed activity packed days exploring a small portion of London’s many interesting tourist attractions. I am afraid we missed far more of them than we saw, but time and children’s attention spans were finite. We tried to hit the high points, the London Eye, Westminster and Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace, St. James’ Park and Green Park, Windsor Castle, the Tower of London and, of course the item on every visitor’s list, Legoland. We began with a sunset ride on the London Eye, which is, for those of you who unfamiliar with this tourist destination, a gigantic observation “Ferris” wheel, actually, the largest such wheel ever built. The Eye was located right next to our hotel, opposite the Houses of Parliament on the South Bank of the Thames. We stood in the sleek, glass observation capsules, which were attached to arms of the great wheel that moved ever so slowly, taking well over a half an hour to complete its revolution. The views of London were magnificent. Below us was the wide dark expanse of the River Thames. From the river’s banks, London stretched out in each direction to the horizon, the orange light of the setting sun cast a magical glow on the spires, towers and rooftops of the city skyline. One of the many highlights of our time in London was our visit to the infamous Tower of London. Loaded with bloody history, the Tower of London has been a royal palace, fortress and prison, as well as the home of the crown jewels. We learned early on during our sightseeing in London that briefing our kids with a mixture of tales involving scandal, intrigue and good dose of beheadings, was a sure fire recipe to extend our children’s’ attention spans. We traveled from our hotel to the Tower by way of a riverboat excursion, passing landmarks like St. Paul’s Cathedral with its glorious dome, the Shakespeare Globe Theatre, the Tate Museum and the illustrious Tower Bridge. Entering the walls surrounding the Tower of London, we passed under the “Traitor’s Gate” where we paused to read some carefully selected gruesome and unsavory stories of London’s loathsome past, much to the kids‘ delight. Once inside the fortress walls, we explored the grounds. We visited places of dubious note like the Bloody Tower where Richard III was said to have killed his two nephews, aged ten and twelve, in order to clear the way for him to assume the throne, and the Tower Green, now a peaceful lawn surrounded on two sides by handsome Tudor buildings, where Lady Jane Grey, the sixteen year old queen was executed by order of her rival for the throne, Queen Mary I. On the Tower Green the girls took turns placing their heads on the chopping block used in the executions of two of Henry VIII’s unfortunate wives, Katharine Howard and Anne Bolelyn. It was good gruesome fun. Although the Tower is now known mostly as a site of imprisonment, torture and murder, it actually has another, lesser known, noble past. In the middle of the fortress grounds stood the formidable and majestic White Tower. The massive White Tower was a typical example of Norman military architecture. It was designed by William the Conqueror to protect London and assert his power. Construction of the White Tower began in 1080 and continued through the reigns of various succeeding monarchs. Its ten story high, whitewashed walls and four turreted corner towers gleamed in the bright midday sunlight. Mixed throughout the crowds of visitors were the men in the familiar square black hats and red and black tunics, the royal crest of Queen Elizabeth emblazoned on their chests. Yeoman Warders is their official title, but most of us would know them as “Beefeaters.” Hopping across the green lawn next to the White Tower were several large, black ravens. Apparently, legend has it that Charles II was warned that should the ravens ever leave the Tower, the monarchy would fall. Not one to tempt fate, he ordered that a small population be kept inside the walls, wings clipped of course, to insure the longevity of the monarchy. The tradition continues to this day. As we were wandering the grounds we happened upon an acting troupe that was staging a reenactment of the plot by Guy Fawkes to blow up Parliament and all of its members. The kids had a great time listening to, and in some cases participating in, the interactive dramatic show. We followed the actors around the Tower grounds as the story progressed from protest, plot, betrayal, capture, and interrogation to final execution. Following Fawkes’ execution, we took a tour of the Jewel House where we were saw, among other things, a dozen gold and jeweled royal crowns set behind thick plates of glass. The most impressive crown being the Imperial State Crown containing over 2,800 diamonds set below a giant blue sapphire. We were tricked during our tour by one of the guides who approached Maddie and asked her if she would like to wear the Queen’s crown. She looked at us with eyes the size of saucers as she followed the guide around the exhibition stand. Unfortunately, much to her chagrin, the closest she was to get to the crown was the plate glass casing. The illuminated crown cast a vivid reflection on the glass wall opposite the exhibit and Maddie was the perfect height for the reflection of the crown to appear to be sitting on her head. While the rest of the family marveled at the crowns, scepters and robes, Frankie and I spent his time examining the exhibits of armor, swords and medieval weaponry. Sweet! At the end of the Tower tour, the kids found (surprise, surprise) the gift shop. Maddie picked out a book on the gruesome tales of the Tower of London and another full of nasty tidbits about London’s sordid past and Bella and Carmen met a stuffed bear dressed in the uniform of a Palace Guard that they could not live without. Meanwhile, Frankie experienced one of those Shirley MacLaine moments of total consciousness, having an immediate realization that he was, in fact a knight trapped inside a pirate’s body. Gone was the feathered pirate’s cap that had been a fixture on his head for months, and in its place, was substituted the fearsome plastic helmet of a medieval warrior, which together with red tunic and wooden sword transformed our little buccaneer into a knight of the round table. It was an outfit that he would refuse to shed, even at bedtime, for days to come. Just across the river from our hotel was the masterpiece of gothic and medieval architecture, the Palace of Westminster and its iconic Big Ben. We learned that although the huge clock tower of the Palace of Westminster is popularly known as Big Ben, the name actually refers to the clock tower’s fourteen-ton bell, named after Sir Benjamin Hall who was the Commissioner of Works when it was installed in 1858. Each night, after darkness fell, we were treated to an enchanting view of the up lit façade of Westminster and its famous clock tower, the black hands of clock dials set against the clock’s brilliant white face, the light of which beamed through the lightly fogged evening sky. In the mornings, we would wake to the fairy-tale sound of Big Ben‘s tolling. We spent portions of a couple of mornings and afternoons strolling around Westminster, sitting on the grass of Parliament Square enjoying an ice cream and people watching. The Palace and Abbey were such a grand set of buildings; I never grew tired of gazing at them, especially the Abbey‘s intricate transept. It was with an ample sense of awe that I contemplated that travelers like us have been marveling about this place for over a thousand years. It was said that this was the political and spiritual heart of England. It was a religious shrine, the seat of government and the place where all of Britain’s monarchs have been crowned for the last millennium. Surrounding the square were statutes of some of the notable statesmen from the past. Our personal favorites were those of Winston Churchill, shoulders hunched under the cloak of his famous overcoat, in the middle of a deliberate stride; a seated and contemplative Abraham Lincoln (the only non-British subject to be so honored); and the life like statute of the notorious Oliver Cromwell. Keeping in mind my adage that gory equals gripping, the kids found the statute of Oliver Cromwell statute most interesting when they learned the story of one of the worst grudges in British history. Cromwell presided over England’s most famous republican experiment, which began after a particularly bloody and vicious civil war in the mid 17th century. Upon his death, Cromwell was buried in Westminster Abbey. However, when the monarchy for which Cromwell was responsible for overthrowing was ultimately restored in 1660, the new king ordered Cromwell’s body exhumed after which it was ceremoniously hanged, drawn and quartered and beheaded for good measure. Of course, it would not be a proper trip to London without a visit to the Buckingham Palace. We strolled along Birdcage Walk before dipping into the leafy and inviting St. James’s Park, a wonderful urban oasis full of wide lawns, shading trees, tranquil ponds and well maintained, brightly colored flower gardens. We stopped along the way to feed some of the swans, geese and pelicans that wandered freely along the pedestrian footpaths. After taking an ice cream and coffee break at one of the outdoor cafes, we pressed on through the park until we reached London’s most famous residence, Buckingham Palace. We lingered for quite some time watching the pomp and circumstance of the changing of the Palace Guard. The guards, dressed in their red tunics, white shoulder straps and belt, black pants and tall bearskin hats, pulled low over their brow, marched from the nearby Wellington barracks to the Palace. The formal military drill that made up the changing of the guards was precisely choreographed and clearly full of tradition. The older girls were inspired to mimic the guards’ march as they passed and of course, what would a trip to Buckingham Palace be if they didn’t take a moment to try to get the posted guards to break their frozen stare. Transportation in London was as much an excursion as it was a necessity. During our time in London, we had the opportunity to ride in the traditional black sedan taxis. Their design has been constant for decades and the exclusive manufacturer of these London icons only makes taxis. The interior of the passenger area was enormous. The real attraction, however, was the cabbie. As if supplied to the City of London by some central casting agency, every cab driver that we encountered was eerily similar. Each was a Caucasian male, appearing to be in his fifties, speaking with a heavy cockney accent and extremely gregarious. The rides were full of non-stop chatter. In most cases, we found the interaction enjoyable, although there were times when we knew the gentleman behind the wheel was trying to communicate with us, but we couldn’t for the life of us understand a word he was saying. Although there was a time or two, at the end of a long day of sightseeing, that I would have preferred to observe some silent reflection (insert, grab a quick nap) on our drive back to the hotel, but this was never in the cards. These guys were relentless, and they could talk a wood horse to sawdust. In addition to cab rides, there were the red double-decker buses and of course, the “Tube,” London’s Underground subway system, which is one of the most elaborate in the world. It was every bit as complex and far reaching as the subway system we encountered in Tokyo. From our “home base” at Waterloo Station, we could easily travel by rail to anywhere within or outside the city. And there was something unique about London train stations. The main terminals were huge, there were platforms and tracks everywhere and the stations were full of people bustling about in each direction under the sunlit roof of the station’s greenhouse-like architecture. Near the heart of London proper was Trafalgar Square, which on the evening we visited, was full of Londoners seated on the steps enjoying a last bit of sunlight at the end of a warm spring day. Surrounding them was the impressive monument to Lord Admiral Nelson, who with cunning tactics and brazen disregard for odds, soundly defeated Napoleon’s French armada at the Battle of Trafalgar in 1805. The overwhelming destruction of the French fleet played a large role in the shaping of world history. His fleet lost, Napoleon had to abandon his plans to invade and conquer Britain. With the French navy out of the picture, Britain was free to rule the seas and accelerate its global colonization. Nelson was mortally wounded during the battle and his remains were given a state funeral after which he was interred in St. Paul’s Cathedral. In the center of the square stood a column nearly two hundred feet tall. On top of the column was a twenty-foot statute of the intrepid naval hero. Surrounding the base of the column were the sculptures of four huge lions. It was a fitting monument to a time when Britannia ruled the world. Time now for another episode of “That’s So Carmen.” It seems as though not a day goes by without our diminutive five year old providing some sort of comic relief. In this instance, we were all lounging on the bed in our hotel room, watching television. Carmen’s growth during our journey has manifested itself in many ways, one of which is her relatively new insistence on using the potty alone without any assistance. For the longest time, the routine involved us helping her take off her pants and underwear and then assisting her up until she had a firm perch. We would then allow her some privacy and await the familiar call of her little voice announcing “Papa (or Mama) it’s your favorite time of the day!” This was our signal to return, help her finish her business and then get her dressed again. Lately, she has asserted her independence, handling the entire process by herself. On this occasion however, she had clearly experienced some difficulty getting her underwear and pants back on. She emerged from the bathroom, and in her serious voice exclaimed, “I’ve seen London and I’ve seen France, NOW WILL SOMEONE HELP ME WITH MY UNDERPANTS!” Speaking of Carmen, she has developed a strong interest in written messages and postal services. Lately, whenever we arrive at a new destination, she hoards any stationary and envelopes she can find and squirrels them away in her “bag of occupyment.” She spends a considerable amount of her free time drawing pictures for each of us. Thereafter, she signs, seals and delivers letters to everyone, often leaving them in inconspicuous places like a shoe, under a pillow or in a backpack. She is the self-proclaimed “mail lady” and she takes her job very seriously. All she requires in return is that we too write a letter and deposit it with her for circulation. Since I am on the subject of new developments, Frankie has added a nimble and energetic routine to his daily regimen. He calls it his “happy dance.” His performances are usually spontaneous, but on occasion, he can be coaxed into presenting it on a moment’s notice. Try if you will, to imagine a three-year-old version of Mel Gibson’s character in “Braveheart” displaying the rapid footwork of Jennifer Beals in “Flashdance.” We have found that the best way to keep the kids engaged in a historic place like London is to periodically provide them with some non-educationally focused outings. This time it was trips to Lego Land in Windsor, Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum and Mary Poppins, the Musical in London. Madame Tussaud’s has been entertaining young and old alike for over a hundred years. Having never been to a wax museum, the girls had a great time walking among the life sized figures, posing for pictures with the likes of Madonna, Queens Victoria and Elizabeth, John F. Kennedy, Tony Blair, Princess Diana and Marie Antoinette (along with her guillotine, of course). The day trip to Windsor took us by train to the gates of Windsor Castle, the historic mainstay of British royalty. We walked around the perimeter of the imposing fortress, which has served as a residence to English monarchs for centuries. According to the brochure, it is the oldest and largest castle in Britain containing over a thousand rooms. But the Castle was not the real reason we had come to Windsor, it was that lesser known jewel of Britannia, Lego Land. We were impressed by the size and scale of the reproductions of Legoland’s wonders of Europe, done completely with one inch colored building blocks. In addition to the models, there were games, mazes, imagination stations and discovery zones offering all sorts of fun and interesting activities. The amusement park had a variety of age-based thrill rides and roller coasters. After weathering through a rainy morning, we spent a fun filled afternoon taking in all of the attractions. On our final night in London, I had the distinct pleasure to escort Carmen, Isabella and Madeline to the Prince Edward Theatre in London’s lively West End district, on a date to see the world’s most famous nanny, Mary Poppins. We were treated to a wonderful musical stage production of Disney’s Mary Poppins. For me however, on special nights like these with my daughters, the destination is really secondary. The real fun is watching the girls prepare for the outing. There was a genuine excitement in the air as they scurried around trying to find the perfect “fancy dress,” primping and experimenting with makeup and accessories. Knowing full well that the days when my daughters will act so excited about spending an evening with their father are short-lived, I soaked up every treasured moment of our last night out on the town in London. NEXT DISPATCH. IRELAND

Comments

[abundant creature]

Thanks for sharing your adventures with us. I'm inspired to plan my own trip with my son.