My father informs me, now that I’m back, that I’ve been derelict in my posting duties. He is right, of course, but having returned from a glorious week in London, I now am sick. The cause of this illness is quite clear. The headache. The stuffy nose. The sneezing.
My tragic deathbed illness? Why it can only be attributed to laundry. Yes, I’ve been forced to do laundry today. (Gasp!) We all know how desperately allergic I am to laundry, but it’s been unavoidable that I put in a load or two, and now my body is rebelling. Perhaps it’s time to invest in an EpiPen?
But like the stoic guards at Buckingham Palace, I shall solider on and tell you about our trip. And what a great trip it was!
The impetus for this trip was Adam’s work. As those who receive our holiday card know, Adam gets to travel to all sorts of great places for work (San Francisco! London! Germany!) while I stay home and make lunches. Not too fun. But in January Adam said, “I have to go to London the week of February 5.” I thought for a moment and asked, “Any chance you could do it the week of February 20?” which is that illustrious New England novelty, February vacation. A few arrangements later, and Adam said, “Done!” So we tagged along on his work trip.
Friday after school was a mad dash for home. We had an hour to get school backpacks transformed into travel backpacks, get last minute things done (stop the mail, clean the dishes, pack toothbrushes), and then get to the airport. The flight to London isn’t long enough for a decent night’s sleep, but the kids got a short nap out of it.
Our hotel, St. Ermin’s, was fabulous. Although we arrived at the hotel at 8 a.m., they still allowed us to check into our room. But we didn’t want the kids passing out too early, so we headed to Portobello Market to check out the scene.
Why, yes, my eight year old is drinking coffee. Thanks for noticing.
How was the scene? Full of whiny, tired children. So I gave in and let them return to the hotel for a nap.
Mean mother that I am, though, I didn’t let them sleep too long. Must keep them on Boston time, after all! So we headed to the British Museum, to traumatize my daughter with skeleton bones and entertain my son with the museum’s scavenger hunt for art objects.
Dem bones, dem bones
Hunting for clues in the exhibits
They roamed, the sketched, they oohed at the Rosetta Stone. And by ooh, I mean they said, “That’s all it is?”
For dinner we headed to a traditional English pub, for fish and chips and bangers and mash, and the most amazing dessert, at least for me. Pie wanted cake, Doodles wanted brownie, Adam had sticky toffee pudding, and I just wanted beer. “I’ll have an ale,” I said.
“You’ve drinking lager,” Adam point out.
“Oh, right. I’ll have a lager.”
But our waiter was having none of that. “You’re in London,” he said. “You should really try the ale. Will you trust me to bring you an ale I think you’ll like?”
Hey, I was game. Sounded like fun. Even more fun when I was presented with this:
Dessert!
Turns out I do like ale.
And on that note, I must arm myself with tissues and advil so that I may brave the laundry room once again. Stay tuned for more of the adventures of Doodles and Pie in London. Cheers!
Wow! Sounds like you guys had a blast! Do you ever stay home? lol. I think you travel to foreign lands about as often as I go to the mall (which, by the way, is a foreign land to me).
Anyway, hope you feel better soon (damn laundry…)