I took all these pictures with my phone so they are what you get from a phone camera. What makes the house so loveable to me is that it has a lot of "period features" but is modern in the important areas. (Kitchen and bathrooms.) The landlord is also the previous tenant, they owned and lived in the property until Saturday, and they have moved west to be closer to her mother. It was an Asian couple, she is a surgeon, and they had two little kids. He was really nice and really excited for a family to be living here. Anyway, they left behind all the curtains, the bar chairs, a lot of dishes and some golf clubs.
This is Mim and SI's room. Mim cried and cried when she found out she wasn't getting her own room. I'm not sure where she got that idea, because it was never the plan. But she is in love with the keyholes in the doors where she can sing "It doesn't have to be a snowman..." This room is also quite small, so we are grateful for our toddler sized bunkbeds that are coming across the ocean. The only problem is that no one told me that mattress sizes are totally different here so we will have to do some engineering. (And very unfortunate for all the sheets I brought over.) The decor was also left over from the landlord, but it's cute enough for me.
This is off the kitchen, kind of out of order but oh well. I have to catch the bus in a minute. The washer/dryer, and the refrigerator. It's an awkward place for a refrigerator but it is worth it to have a full-size American one. And then at the back is an extra W.C. (Water closet.) At least we have a second toilet!
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Today Richard left church early to meet the inventory clerk at our new house. The kids and I walked down the hill after church because our car was stuffed full of suitcases. It was really exciting. (That was not sarcastic.)
Of course as soon as I walked into the house my battery died on my camera. So I took some photos with my phone before the IKEA truck arrived and the suitcases were brought it in and everything turned to chaos. But it's a tedious process getting the pictures from my phone onto this blog so it will have to wait until tomorrow. I love our house. I'll be honest, it's kind of in the ghetto. It's on a nice street in a nice neighborhood but we don't exactly live in Notting Hill. Lewisham isn't a trendy part of London at all, but we opted for a short commute time into the city for both Richard getting to work at Canary Wharf, and for me to get into Central London. But the house itself has loads of charm. I'll write more about it tomorrow. We went out for lunch, and figured we could have cereal for dinner. (We happened to have cereal and milk.) But we didn't have spoons so at 6:15pm I tried to go buy spoons and everything was closed. People had warned me about this but I didn't believe it until I saw it for myself. I returned home empty-handed, but the kids were hungry so Richard went back out and found an Indian grocery store where he bought plastic spoons and something that resembled Ramen noodles. Then we had cereal for dessert. Tonight Richard went to make some microwave popcorn only to discover we have no microwave. But we DO have a steam oven. With an old piece of bread in it. [Anyone know how to use a steam oven?] We couldn't assemble any furniture because we have no tools, but fortunately we all have mattresses to sleep on. It feels so good to have a home again. A couple months ago I downloaded the IKEA UK catalogue on my iPad and perused it's pages. Then a few weeks before we moved I spent a couple hours doing a more specific search for the most inexpensive and practical furniture. It was really fun and I had a great time choosing things. I imagined going to IKEA and wandering leisurely through the showroom and market and warehouse gathering the items I needed to make our new residence a home. KPMG gives us a relocation allowance so I was thinking "What could possibly be better than shopping at IKEA with someone else's money?!"
Let's just go ahead and add that to the list of things I've romanticized about moving to London. We made our first trip to IKEA last Tuesday. We took the train to get there and it was relatively easy and straightforward. I had made a list from my favorites in the catalogue and brought along my trusty notebook. We planned to leave the kids in Smaland and have a much needed break. Turns out the kids can only stay in Smaland for an hour, so we only got about 2/3 of the way through my list, recording the item numbers, and locations in the warehouse. Then we hurried back to pick up the kids and called it a day. IKEA will only deliver items one or two days after purchase, so we had to wait until Saturday to buy everything anyway. By Saturday we had received our car so we decided to drive to IKEA. So we drove. And drove and drove. We actually drove down the longest high street in Europe, Streatham High Street. Traffic was terrible. And then we got lost. The British equivalent of Siri was telling us the most bizarre things. We could SEE the tall smokestacks in the IKEA parking lot, with the blue and yellow banners but we could not GET to them. It was infuriating. By this point we had been driving for nearly two hours and the kids were hungry and impatient and someone had to use the toilet. (WHY DO MY KIDS HAVE TO PEE SO MUCH?!) It was pouring rain and by the time we got into the store I was already grumpy. There was a 30 minute wait for Smaland so I let Richard sit with the kids and I got a head start, which turned out to be grossly insufficient. By the time our hour was over we still had a lot left to do so there was kid shuffling, kid distracting, a trip to the cafeteria, a few trips to the loo, walking walking walking. I'm sure every IKEA is busy on a Saturday but I'm quite sure this IKEA was exceptionally busy. The thing is, picking out pillows and mattresses gets really boring. And then it becomes really stressful when you throw four kids in the mix. We had to have everything delivered so in sheer desperation we opted for an extra 10 pounds to have IKEA staff get our items from the warehouse for us. SO WORTH IT. We had a cart full of items we needed to pay for, and the lines were horrendous. And then we had our list of items that needed to be retrieved and delivered, and arranging for IKEA to do that apparently requires enough paperwork to organize a small country. I kept taking the kids and leaving Richard to do said paperwork and then he would have to chase me down in that HUGE store to ask me a question. Because, did I mention, his phone had died? At last the work was done. We got ice cream cones, made one last trip to the loo and were off! Trouble was, Richard's phone was dead, and I'm still figuring out how to to get a functional data plan on mine, so we were on our own without the help of Mr. British Siri to get back to our apartment. But we made it, in half the time! And no one had to pee the whole way home. Thank goodness because I was utterly exhausted. The only part about the whole experience that makes me smile (at this point, maybe I'll feel better when the boxes and boxes of unassembled furniture that surround me actually resemble FURNITURE) was that the IKEA staff loved the little American kids. They loved them on Tuesday and they made a big fuss when we were back again on Saturday. And it's a darn good thing, because guess what? We get to go back again tomorrow. Spoiler Alert: There is a picture of me in this post! After the museum we went out for lunch at then drove to a beach that was recommended by our hotel concierge. I'll let the pictures do most of the talking. I will mail European chocolate to whoever can offer me a satisfactory explanation to this mystery. All over the beach were these little piles of sand and little holes. I know they look like turds, but they are sand, I promise. You can see them in the pictures above. It's as if someone pressed sand through a pasta maker in little piles all over the entire beach. Then the tide would come in and wash them away. Chasing the birds. I didn't even pack mine and Richard's swimsuits because the forecast said it was going to be 68 degrees. I figured kids aren't too picky about weather for swimming but I didn't think the adults would be interested. It ended up being over 80 degrees and we were wishing we were in the water! I've never seen a forecast be so terribly incorrect and been so disappointed about it.
After we finished at the beach we drove back to London, sandy and exhausted, for our last couple nights in our apartment. I'm still working on posting this holiday... maybe my subconscious just wants to keep re-living it every couple of weeks. On Thursday evening after we got back from Dover castle we went back into Ramsgate for dinner and had Fish N Chips again. Then we took a walk down by the beach. It was breezy and cool but that didn't stop a few beach goers. For awhile we watched a man doing some sort of sailing/surfing. He would ride the board out, with the wind pulling his sail, and then coast back in. He did it over and over. I want to put it on my bucket-list; whatever it is. I wanted to try to get one of those cool jumping pictures that are all the rage for bridesmaids and best men and weddings these days. This is what I got instead. The next morning was Friday, the 4th of July. We wanted to do something patriotic so we went to a WWII museum. It was small and had two exhibits: a Spitfire and a Hurricane. Those were the two British bomber aircraft flown during the war. The boys weren't too impressed at the time, but now that they've learned so much they are dying to go back and see them again.
The coolest part for me was that there were three old men there, and two of them had been pilots during the war. They took their jobs so seriously, even though I'm sure they just volunteer their time there. They answered all our questions and took pictures for us. Today is our last day in our apartment. I have mixed feelings about this. There are so many things I'm not going to miss. For example, all the doors in the apartment are spring loaded and close automatically. I understand this is for fire safety but it's quite a pain, it makes for difficult temperature control for one thing. And it's also really impractical with the kids. The kids sleep on the first floor and we are up on the third floor and although you can hear surprisingly well from top to bottom due to the small spaces, if our door was closed at night and the kids doors were closed we would never hear Eli wailing when his leg fell asleep or Simon whimpering because he wet the bed. Wait a minute... maybe I've misjudged the value of the spring-loaded doors... But in the meantime I've been propping open the doors with our huge suitcases. I also won't miss being on the 20th floor and worrying about what the kids are dropping out the windows or throwing over the patio wall. But then of course there are so many things I WILL miss. I will miss being on the 20th floor with almost an entire panoramic view of the city, especially the view at night. I will not miss living in the financial district which is not family friendly, it is a hustle and bustle and we are constantly battling commuter crowds. But I WILL miss living in the financial district with the smart looking people in their business suits and all the posh shops and restaurants. I will not miss living with something else's belongings and worrying about what my kids are doing to them. But I will miss having the maid come and clean. It has also been hard to maintain any kind of kitchen. I mostly buy only what I need to make a single meal, which has its advantages but can also be problematic when I go to saute the veggies and have no olive oil or anything that resembles it. I will not miss having empty cupboards and an empty refrigerator. But I will miss having per diem and eating out at tasty new places. I've really come to love Canary Wharf. I'm familiar with the trains around here and the restaurants. I love running along the river. I like the simplicity of our apartment with so few belongings. But we are so done living out of suitcases. We moved out of our house in Kuna on June 4, so it has been a full month of transition. We've packed up our suitcases and changed locations four times now. We are all jonesin' for some stability. This week we took a little road trip and Simon was so confused about where we live. In a hotel? In the apartment? At Baca's house? In our new house? So tomorrow we will go to church, and then when church is over we will walk down the hill to our new, completely empty house where we will meet up with the agent and the key. Then Richard gets the pleasure of using our little car to shuttle our 12 suitcases from the apartment to our house. And hopefully IKEA will deliver our mattresses so we can have something to sleep on besides the hardwood floors. Parks have been our saving grace the last three weeks. This one is our favourite- Sir Jon McDougal Gardens. We all loved this cool swing. We've been here two weeks today. I haven't felt too much homesickness but that might just be because right now it feels like we're on vacation. Of course there are some things that I'm having trouble getting used to, but for the most part I'm falling in love with London.
Things I don’t really love: - Cigarette smoke. I don’t know if the UK government has just thrown its hands in the air with regard to public education campaigns about the harmful effects of smoking, but I did notice that cigarette packs have pretty bold and obvious warnings. It sure feels like a LOT of people smoke. - That I can’t make my kids wear their neon shirts every day, because every where we go there are so many people! And I miss just being alone, driving alone in a car or even being alone in an aisle in a grocery store. - The frustrating lack of public toilets. I get it, I mean I know it’s the problem of big cities with indigent people. Despite our efforts to be more proactive with our kids and their bathroom needs, (using them before we leave and when we are patronizing restaurants) it still feels like someone always has to wee RIGHT NOW. In fairness to the English and their polite manners, no one has ever turned away one of our kids when we’ve been desperate. - The noise. You’ll see this in my other list too. It’s one of those love-hate things. But sometimes I just long for quiet. - The people who expect you to move out of THEIR way. They just keep on walking, full speed ahead, directly toward you and it’s really a “move it or lose it” attitude. - The lack of people I love. I know I’ll make new friends, but the kids and I feel a little lonely at times. No play dates, not much social interaction at all really. Things I really love: - Girls in Hijab. Something about these girls and women moves me. Maybe I’m projecting my ideals of modesty, courage and spirituality on them, but regardless they are committed to their religion. - The smells! When I go running I usually seem to end up running “upstream” in a river of commuters. I love it. There are so many perfumes and colognes. And of course there are so many delicious food smells, so many ethnic foods and bakeries too. - All the beautiful people I see. I’ve noticed in the past couple days that living here in the corporate part of the city I’m seeing a more refined demographic. The people I see each day are well-dressed, well-kept professionals. But it’s fun for me. They look so grown up and “smart” – as the British say. - The cheese section in the grocery store. - The bakery in the grocery store. My favorite treat is a shortbread cookie covered in caramel with Belgian chocolate on top. Mmmm it’s so good. So far I think Nero coffee shop has the best one. - The street/tunnel performers. I think I might have to carry less cash with me because I just want to give it to them all. Walking through the tunnels while changing trains or rail lines can get so tedious, and when there is music it just makes everything better. I’ve seen accordians, violins, a saxophone, a rapper, singers, guitars… you name it. - The way everyone calls me or the kids “darling”. It’s so kind and friendly. People are constantly knocking the kids over or bumping into them. There aren’t many kids around here and our kids are learning a little too slowly about being aware of the people around them. But most people are quick to apologize when they’ve bulldozed a toddler. “Sorey darling!” - The food. We certainly heard our share of “British food is terrible!” from people when we said we were moving here. But as Richard likes to point out, let’s be honest here. We are moving from Boise Idaho. Is someone going to claim that Boise has better food? (No offense Boise! We love your food!) There are international restaurants everywhere of course, and even our experience with local food has been great. Pie and mash hit the spot for meat and potato people like Richard and Cameron. - This is obvious, but the never ending supply of museums. We’ve barely dipped our toe in and I’m in love. Two years won’t be long enough to see all the museums. - Despite being in this huge city it doesn't take long to get to the countryside. And what a beautiful countryside! That's probably enough for now. I'm sure as time goes by I'll discover new treasures and annoyances. Living in this temporary apartment, Richard not working yet, and being in a new place make it feel like we are on vacation. But we aren't- and even though we have a sufficient per diem to cover our meals we still have limited funds for sight seeing and exploring. The kids are mostly free on public transport but Richard and I aren't, so wherever we go we pay. And even though there are many free places to visit, many are not free. So we've been trying to find a balance of taking advantage of this work-free, school-free time without burning through our savings. It is also exhausting being tourists so we have spent a fair amount of time just relaxing around our apartment and watching the World Cup. But after a day or two of sitting around I get antsy, so on Monday afternoon I said "Let's go somewhere!" By the time we got out the door it was rush hour, and I didn't check the forecast, so we didn't bring jackets or umbrellas and that's how our adventure began. Piccadilly Circus isn't a circus at all, in case you were wondering. A circus in this context is just referring to a circle, which is what is at the center of this really nonsensical intersection. Let me take this opportunity to say that the roads in London have no rhyme or reason. They are what they have been for a couple hundred years, or more. They don't run north-south, east-west, they run hither and thither. It's completely opposite the grid type system you'd find in Salt Lake. (Those Mormons are so organized!) London consists of many small villages that all just grew together, and since the English are reluctant to tear down buildings to make more organized "motorways", they just make do. The idea of driving in London is terrifying to me for this reason, and because of that minor detail about driving on the other side of the road. Piccadilly Circus is in west London. It is the heart of the theatre district so all over we saw signs for all the classic musicals and some new ones we've never heard of. I had no idea there were so many theatres, and each theatre only shows one play. We got to Piccadilly Circus right at dinner time, so of course the kids were starving. I always imagine these little outings so much differently than they actually occur. I imagined we would meander past Piccadilly, through Chinatown and toward Covent Garden Market where there are some fun places to eat. All the while soaking in the experience, observing with wonder and awe the old buildings and charming little streets. It was less than a mile of walking and was only supposed to take 12 minutes. But right after I took these pictures it started to sprinkle. And instead of doing the responsible thing and coming up with a back-up plan, I ignored the rain and my husband's promptings to find a closer restaurant and the hungry pleas of my children because I was TAKING IN THE SIGHTS BY GOLLY. Then it was an all-out downpour. And Mim needed to wee. And and and... I'll skip the next twenty minutes and suffice it to say there were some immature and stubborn adults and some wet children by the time we ducked into a Chinese restaurant called Kai in the heart of Chinatown. The food was delicious. Cameron wanted to try roasted duck, which turned out to be quite tasty. I have to give credit to the kids for their open mindedness and flexibility with all the different foods we've tried. They have been good sports. And Eli and Miriam were determined to master the chopsticks. Simon thought he was determined too, but he was making such a mess that we confiscated the chopsticks. Sorry buddy, maybe next time. Fortunately by the time we finished eating we were mostly dry and in much better spirits. In an effort to ease my mother-guilt for dragging my children through the rain, we made a quick stop in a candy shop. But who am I kidding? The candy stop was all about me too. The street performers were probably my favorite part of Covent Garden. There was a guy singing through/playing an orange traffic cone. There was also a magician/comedian and a Freddie Mercury impersonator that was probably rated PG-13, because well, Freddie Mercury. But this guy was our favorite. Flames came out of the bell of his instrument (have I really forgotten what instrument that is?! I'm ashamed of myself.) We watched him for several minutes and all the kids wanted to throw money in his hat. I'm grateful to whoever told me the informal rule that if the performer is good enough to make you stop, or if you take a picture, you ought to give them money. (Adri? Lori?) Covent Garden Market was fun and quaint and definitely has some restaurants we'll be coming back for. It's a pretty tourist-y type place so it seemed as good as any to take this obligatory photo. You knew it was coming.
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JoAuthor and creator of this weblog; phase two of my internet chronicles of just your average middle class, "married with children" family life. Archives
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