Kathy is still battling a sinus infection today, so we had another fairly low-key day, with only two outings, both with subsets of the family.

Outing the first: All the kids but Maggie and I hiked 20 minutes down to The Odeon, a nearby movie theater, to see Tim Burton’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. It was a wonderfully quirky effort, very much in the same vein as Burton’s earlier Edward Scissorhands, a personal favorite of mine. (In fact, I was amused to see that the first time we really get a good look at Johnny Depp’s version of Wonka, he in fact has a large pair of scissors clutched in his hands.) The English movie theater experience was an interesting one as well. At the Odeon, they’ve preserved a bit of the spectacle of the old movie theaters, with impressively large theaters and a very spacious lobby — all the more striking, given what a premium space is at in central London. I was further delighted to see that among the usual candy and popcorn at the snack bar, there was also beer for sale.

Outing the Second: Abigail and I went to Harrods, a giant department store in downtown London, to purchase some tea towels Mom McMains had promised to pick up for a friend, but lacked the time before her departure. We elbowed our way through the crowds and found the towels with a minimum of difficulty. It is, by the way, a treat to talk to the various people behind the counters at London businesses, not only because they’re usually quite helpful, but also because one never quite knows what accent one will encounter. In addition to the variety of UK accents, the city boasts an enormous number of immigrants, flavoring their English with French, German, Eastern European, African, Caribbean, and Asian languages. After procuring the towels, we wandered a bit through the rest of the store, enjoying the somewhat inexplicably themed Egyptian escalators and the toy section, and then returning home via the Underground once more.

Note: I’ve added a few photos from the last week that I like.

Today was kept low key by illness. Both Kathy and Maggie were feeling pretty rotten throughout the day. Details to fill in later: Visit with the Newleyweds, Treasure Island show on the Thames.

Today was a relatively low-key day. Liam was feeling a good deal better after 12 hours of sleep and letting his fever run its course, but other family members were beginning to show signs of illness. We spent a good deal of the day pottering about the house, laying low and resting. On towards afternoon, however, I decided that we desperately needed to do something London specific, so I dragged Emily and Liam off to nearby Hampstead Heath for a hike.

Hampstead Heath is one of the larger parks in London, which means it’s huge. While there are a number of nice foot and bicycle trails through it, it’s not cultivated to the degree that some of the other parks are, giving it a nice “walk through the woods” feel. We started on the west side of the park, near the tube station, and walked generally east, mostly along the bicycle trail that bisects the green space. We passed a variety of people, the usual assortment of large and extremely friendly dogs, and a number of cyclists as we wended our way through the leafy expanse. While there are no wild cactus to speak of here in England, due presumably to the cold winters, there are a variety of other plants to be careful of — berry bushes with thorns, pointy holly leaves, and my personal nemesis, stinging nettle.

After about 30 minutes of meandering vaguely eastward, we saw a large which we decided to climb. This turned out to be Parliament Hill, the heart of the Heath, from which one is afforded a smashing panorama of the city. I was a bit baffled by the abundance of park benches that topped the hill and were scattered extremely liberally throughout the rest of the park until I noticed that each of them bore a dedication, and had apparently been sponsored by someone to whom the Heath had been meaningful — rather a nifty way to give something back to others who enjoy it.

From the top of the hill, we saw “The Writer” — a huge, orange sculpture of a table and chair that towered 60 feet or so in the air, dwarfing the people who wandered about below it. Some rain had accumulated on the tabletop during the night, and as the wind picked up as we passed, the water blew off the edge and doused a gaggle of preadolescents who were playing below, eliciting bafflement and then hilarious shrieks. From there we sauntered over to a cafe (the parks here seem rife with them), and brought our sandwiches over to the public bowling green to watch a group of six septuagenarians demonstrate the finer points of lawn bowling. After 20 minutes of munching and watching, we caught a bus and headed back to the house.

Supermarket note: One thing I find absolutely wonderful about shopping for food here is that all the produce has listed on its label not only the usual weight and price, but also what part of England it was “Grown In” and whom it was “Grown By.” Though it may not actually reflect business realities, it makes one feel much closer to the farmer and as if someone has a personal stake in the food you buy — much more so than does buying from Agrico’s Worldwide Lettuce Consortium back in the States.

Day 15: Mom left for the US today, so I started off the morning with a trip to Gatwick Airport, both so that we could make use of our BritRail group pass, and to give her a hand hauling stuff around. We had a welcome opportunity to talk at some length on the train (a luxury seldom practical amid the challenges of moving a large group from place to place), which we made the most of. After seeing Mom safely to the check-in gate, I headed back into London and joined the family for lunch at the house.

After a brisk afternoon’s loaf, we all headed into central London to meet up with Bill, Becky’s brother, for dinner and a visit to his church. We ate at Wagamama, a funky noodle place of Bill’s choosing which, while a bit loud, had good food and took great care of our group. Each of the kids emerged with a Wagamama T-Shirt, and we all came out with full, satisfied bellies.

We then proceeded on to St. Mary’s, the church Bill attends in London. While it was housed in a lovely old building with abundant stained glass and a balcony with well-worn pews, the service itself was quite progressive, with leaders in their 20’s and 30’s, contemporary worship music, and some downright silly skits. It was interesting to find that much of the music was the same that our church back home uses. While liturgical traditions in Christianity have long had a standard framework to hang services on (and even, before Vatican II, a standard language), it would seem that the music is becoming the unifying element in more progressive circles. (I find this fact a bit alarming, given the fact that the theology in a fair bit of modern worship music seems somewhat suspect.)

We found the people of St. Mary’s to be warm and welcoming, and would have enjoying sticking around longer to visit, but had to get the kids home so that they could get to sleep at a decent hour. Bill accompanied us, and joined us for a glass of wine and a long conversation about the state of the church and the concept of “having a calling.” Since he had to work in the morning, we finally parted company reluctantly and toddled off to bed for the night.

Day 16: Today was Nerd Day! We decided to make a pilgrimage to Hamley’s Toy Store, which I’d read about before heading over to the UK and which we’d briefly spotted from a double-decker bus a few days previous. While I’d expected Hamley’s to be a good destination, it was more than I’d hoped for: 7 floors stuffed with toys of every kind, complete with enthusiastic demonstraters. There were computer games, outdoor games, slot racers, model trains, Robosapiens, Radio Controlled Flying Saucers, machines that made bubbles that burst into clouds of smoke when popped, drawing toys, and big latex bubble-blowing kits all on display. Additionally, the basement featured life-size Lego figures — Hagrid and Harry Potter, huge dinosaurs, and Star Destroyers, to name a few.

The kids had just received their allowance for the week, so had a great time charging among the floors figuring out how best to spend five pounds. (Our entreaties to save some for the rest of the week fell on deaf ears.) Predictably, the majority of it went to the candy shop, which was immense and well-stocked. I gave in and stocked up on a few of my favorite Jelly Belly flavors (Cherry Cola, Vanilla Bean, Cream Soda, and the incomparable Buttered Popcorn), and also picked up a small model London Underground Train Car for my office.

We finally staggered out of Hamley’s, squinting at the sunlight, and wandered a bit further down Regent Street. I was surprised to see a Gizmondo store along the way, and ducked in to ogle. (Gizmondo is a handheld gaming machine, like the GameBoy or PSP, but with GPS and a camera built in.) We continued our tour de geek by dropping in the Apple Store long enough to poke around, admire the Great Glass Stairway, and use the restrooms.

Liam had started feeling poorly an hour or so previous, and was showing no signs of getting better, so we decided to split up at this point. Kathy and Emily went off to do a bit more wandering and shopping and have some girl time, while the other kids and I went home to have some dinner and to put the sick folk to bed.

Today was the last day Mom McMains had to spend in England, so we asked her to chart our course for the daylight hours. She decided that Greenwich sounded like a lot of fun, so after another rather late start, we took the Underground to Westminster Pier, where we picked up a boat to Greenwich. As we traveled down the river, we got spectacular views of the Parliament Building, the Tower Bridge, the Millennium Bridge, the London Eye, and a number of other notable landmarks — it’s an excellent way to see the city.

The section of Greenwich where the boats arrive has been designated a World Heritage Site, owing both to its beauty and its historical importance in developing the science of navigation. Many remarkable buildings are included in this area, but the most exciting to me was the Royal Observatory. The Prime Meridian passes through the Observatory grounds, bringing with it a long queue of visitors who wish to stand astride it, one foot in the eastern hemisphere and one in the western. Since we found ourselves rushing to get back to the boat, we weren’t able to thoroughly explore the grounds, but did enjoy a really nice camera obscura exhibit, where one entered a darkened room and saw a wonderful panorama of London projected down on the white table in front of you. Since it’s effectively a giant pinhole camera, the image is impressively clear; it’s a marvel to watch the ships sailing by and trees waving in perfect miniature.

After traveling back to London, we split up — Kathy and I heading to the West End for a night of theater, and the kids heading back to the house with Mom, who had graciously offered to take care of them for the evening. Kathy and I had bought balcony tickets for The Big Life, which focused on the adventures of four citizens of various Caribbean islands who emigrate to England, and billed itself as “The Ska Musical.” (The plot was an updated version of Shakespeare’s Love’s Labours Lost.) It had gotten good reviews, so we were already excited when we arrived at the theater, only to find that we had been bumped up to box seats that immediately overlooked the stage. We were a bit surprised to find ourselves pretty much the only white people in the queue at first, though the crowd became more mixed as the seats began to fill.

The show itself was lots of fun — fluffy, but with great energy, smart writing, and some fine music and acting. Our favorite part, however, was Rose — a big woman smartly dressed in a purple outfit and matching hat who started in the box seats opposite us and provided commentary and monologue during scene changes, functioning rather like a Greek Chorus with a sense of humor. (She was flamboyant enough, even when sitting still, that Kathy spotted her beforehand and said “I wonder if she’s a part of the show.”) Her ribald commentary kept things moving along nicely during the first act, but rose to a whole new level during the second, as she moved into the box where we were sitting and proceeded to, among other things, get Tabasco sauce in her eyes, run off screaming, sing a tune “from my latest album”, and lose her wig during her impassioned warbling. She seemed to be a crowd favorite too, as she got one of the biggest ovations when the curtain call came.

One thing that has amused me in the two weeks we’ve now been here is that I find myself speaking an odd half-baked mix of generic American English, Texan, UK English, and even a bit of Australian. (“No worries!” I hear myself cheerfully responding as people “Sorry!” their way past me in the Underground. Then I wince.) Especially when we were spending a good deal of time with the Cunliffes, it was very easy to slip into the native cadence — or at least an American mangling thereof. Hopefully I’ll be able to shake that off quickly when I get home, lest I suffer a well-deserved skewering by friends.

On Day 12, Mom McMains, the kids, and I all boarded a train for Leeds Castle, a site that bills itself as “The Loveliest Castle in the World.” The train ride was pleasant — the kids kept occupied with card games, especilaly enjoying Muggins, a card game Mom taught them which was a staple of my youth, while I watched the passing countryside out the train windows. I can think of no way to travel that I prefer over the train — it’s much more comfortable than the sardine cans in the sky, affords the chance to get up and have a walk around whenever you like, and the scenery tends to be unmatched. It seems a wretched shame to me that trains are so underutilized in the States, though in a place as spread out as Texas is, I can certainly see how it would be difficult to make it a viable enterprise financially.

After an hour or so of travel, we alighted at Bearsted and talked with the helpful stationmaster, who put us on a bus for the castle. We enjoyed a quick lunch on the grounds and then boarded a tram that took us down to the castle proper, which may indeed live up to its hyperbolic advertisements. The castle itself is built on two islands in a lake; the walls plunge directly into the water in a number of places, and the grounds are just about as pictureque as can be. We were, however, a bit disappointed both that parts of the castle had been modernized to allow it to better serve as a conference center, and that the tour didn’t provide an opportunity to climb into the turrets and enjoy the view from the top of the structure.

That disappointment was allayed, however, by the great variety of other attractions on the grounds. There was a super falconry show, a gorgeous lake with Canada Geese and black swans imported from Australia, and an extensive aviary with the largest collection of cockatoos I’ve ever seen, one of which apparently had a taste for little girl and gave Maggie a pretty good nip. The kids’ favorite was an enormous, sadistic, beautifully constructed hedge maze. It was so tricky that it took us over 10 minutes to make it to the mound in the center from which successful navigators could watch the hapless wanderers’ progress and, if they’re feeling generous, offer help. (I saw Mom come back out the entrance 3 times after she ventured in, looking increasingly bemused each time.) From the center of the maze, one can exit beneath the maze via a ominous grotto, lavishly decorated with sculptures made of seashells and a waterfall.

As we travelled home, we noticed that there was a huge police presence. In the wake of the two previous bombings, both of which had occurred on Thursdays, the police were evidently taking no chances with this Thursday — they had cancelled officers’ vacations and called up the largest simultaneously active force of police in England since World War 2. We were further surprised when we got off the tube at our now-familiar Archway stop, and run into Lana and Meara, who we weren’t expecting to see until a day or two later. Apparently I’d gotten the dates bollixed up, and they’d been waiting for us for a couple hours already. (This, by the way, is an excellent way to ensure a warm greeting.) Kathy returned from Paris later that evening, bearing gifts, photos, and tales of fun in France. She received a warm greeting without having to use the expedient of locking everyone outside the house.

Day 13: With our full numbers reassembled, we made a leisurely start to the day, not getting out of the house until arounch lunchtime. Since we enjoyed it a great deal, and several of the travel groups hadn’t been the first time, we decided to make our way back to Covent Garden Market, where the kids rode a beautiful carousel and we enjoyed a number of street performers’ acts.

I must have a willing, fairly non-homicidal face, as the buskers kept calling on me when they needed volunteers. The first was a juggler, whose skills for berating the crowd for not being supportive enough quite eclipsed his accomplishment as a juggler. Two other men and I helped hold his giant unicycle while he climbed on top of us to reach the seat. The worst part, however, was that due to our failure to communicate among ourselves, we ended up giving him far too much money for his tepid efforts. Argh. At another location, a freakishly animated fellow decided to reenact a Village People performance using volunteers from the audience — an effort that resulted in me wearing a cowboy hat and doing vigorous pelvic thrusts in front of a few hundred Londoners. So much for English reserve. (My dad and I found ourselves later wondering why this fellow got the tips when we volunteers had done all his work for him.)

We enjoyed a number of other excellent acts, but eventually left the Market (a bit reluctantly) to head over to Trafalgar Square. There was a jazz band performing on the stage there, but we had attention for little beyond clambering all over the giant lions, ogling Big Ben down one of the streets that radiate from the square, and admiring the fountains. The square is quite a place, and I can see why it is a gathering place for Londoners when things are afoot in the city. Leaving the square behind, we caught the number 15 bus and watched the streets pass from the upper deck, enjoying the chance to rest our feet (and eyes, in some cases) as we wended through Picadilly Circus and down Regent Street. I was excited to spot Hamley’s, a gigantic toy store I’d wanted to visit, and the Apple Store. (Despite having been a long-time fan of the Macintosh, I’d never yet managed to make my way to an Apple Store.) By the time we passed the Tower of London, it was becoming apparent that everyone was tired, so we hastile leaped off the bus and headed back to the house for dinner and bed.

Wednesday is Free Museum Day for our family! After Liam and Abigail had both asked if we could take today off, we scrapped our original plan to head for Leeds Castle, and decided instead to let the kids sleep in until they woke of their own accord. We then packed a lunch and jumped on the Underground once more, alighting at the South Kensington station, where a long subway led us underground nearly to the door of the Science Museum. (Confusing vocabulary note: What we Americans would call the subway is here the “Tube” or “Underground”. What Englanders call a “Subway” is an underground pedestrian walkway — a concept for which I don’t think we have a dedicated word in American english.)

The Science Museum was fabulous. Like the British Museum, admission is free, and it’s too big to take in its entirety in one visit. The entry hall is dominated by an enormous, three-story tall brushed metal ring, the inner circumference of which is lined with white LEDs used to display a varied series of patterns and messages, some of which are entered by museum visitors at one of the exhibits on the 2nd floor. (Another confusing vocabulary note: the floor where one enters is here called the ground floor. Go up a flight of stairs, and you’ll find yourself on the first floor — what we Americans would call the second.) The ring, sadly, was too huge to be able to capture in a photo, but really appealed to the part of my brain that likes shiny objects and Blue Man Group.

Our favorite bit as a family was the Energy exhibit, which had a variety of interactive displays designed and executed by a number of different artists. Though the educational value of some of them was a bit suspect, they were all quite engaging. It was especially nice to see exhibits designed by artists, who are often a bit more sensitive to the nuances of human communication than are scientists. The kids were also intrigued by the Foucault Pendulum, which the museum staff sets going in the morning and twists around throughout the day as the earth rotates beneath it. (They were, however, a bit disappointed they couldn’t play with it themselves.) I was fascinated to see that the museum had also built several Difference Engines — the mechanical computers that Charles Babbage had designed back in the 19th Century, but had never mustered the financial resources to fabricate during his lifetime.

We then popped over for a too-brief visit to the Museum of Natural History, another vast and beautiful facility. A giant metal sculpture of the earth, pierced by an ascending escalator, loomed over the entry hall here. We walked through a dramatic exhibition of volcanism and earthquakes, including a simulation of what a quake would be like. Since everybody’s energy level was flagging a bit by this point, we decided to track down some dinosaurs and then call it a day. After wending our way through one of the most complete bird exhibits I’ve laid eyes on, we finally found our dinosaurs, visiting with them for a few minutes before heading back to the Underground for our trip home. (We had been planning to wrap up the day with an outdoor dramatic production of Treasure Island, but true to London’s stereotype, the weather was rainy and a bit too cold to enjoy such an event. How odd to be enjoying 52° weather in July!)

The more I see of it, the more London seems an inexhaustible trove. One would need to spend a week in any one of a dozen museums to really take it in. While the theater that gets top billing may not be particularly innovative, there’s a ton of other stage productions that don’t get advertised in the Tube. Concerts, opera, pantomimes, and a delightful array of street entertainers flesh out the arts scene nicely, and the beautiful parks are without compare. Quite a city, indeed.

On our first day of Kathyless existence, Mom McMains and I took the kids to the London Zoo. We hopped off the Tube at the Regent’s Park station and took a leisurely stroll from the south end of the park to the zoo’s entrance on the north side, enjoying the giant trees, a few dogs (though nothing like as many as we saw in Highgate Wood a few evenings previous), and watching the varied passersby.

The zoo seems to enjoy a somewhat indifferent reputation in London. I can only assume that this is due to historical failings, as it is currently a remarkably nice place. The vertical emphasis I mentioned earlier is in evidence even here, as the grounds are split into three sections, joined by tunnels under the Prince Albert Road and a bridge over the Regent’s Canal. In addition to the static animal exhibits, there were a number of feedings and animal shows scattered throughout the day and some great walk-through aviaries, aquariums, and the reptile house where Daniel Radcliffe’s Harry Potter set the snake loose.

The only downside to the place was that everything seemed frightfully expensive: £12 to get in, £6 for a chicken curry (which was, admittedly, very tasty), and even more for the various kiddie rides scattered around the grounds. Additionally, we once again ran afoul of two contrasting phenomena: due to the more northern latitude, it’s still staying light here until about 9:30pm (and the sun rises around 6:00am). By contrast, most businesses and museums seem to close by 6:00pm — frightfully early by American standards. As a result, we keep finding ourselves getting kicked out of places as they close without having been able to see everything therein. The Zoo was the latest example — we only got to see the Meerkat Village and the otter exhibit because we chose to leave the zoo the long way. We came home, had some cereal for dinner, and started Volume 3 in the Chronicles of Narnia (which felt like singularly appropriate reading in England).

Latest entry in the curious cuisine chronicles: Dandelion & Burdock Soda. While Maggie likes it pretty well, everyone else thinks it tastes like bilge water. There are also several condiments here in common use that are novel to us Americans: the ubiquitous and inauspiciously named “brown sauce”, which seems to be a hybrid of BBQ and worcestershire sauces, and the estimable “mint sauce”, made with ground up mint and a vinegar base. Kathy especially likes this, and plans to look for suppliers in the States.

Today I felt my first bit of homesickness. I’m not sure if it was Kathy’s absence, the demands of shuttling 4 children through a city not designed with large, boisterous families in mind, the stress of dealing with Maggie giving herself a pretty thorough head-bonking, or (most likely) the combination of all of these, but by evening’s end, I was missing my quiet corner of the ol’ homestead.

Kathy’s cousin Heather joined us from Paris, where she runs a personal shopping service, for today’s romp around London. We started with a visit to the amazing British Museum. This museum is a public trust, with one of the foremost antiquities collection in the world, and free admission. The building itself is a very nice contrast to many museums — open and airy, with lots of natural light from skylights, and plenty of space around the pieces. The first thing we saw upon entering and turning into a gallery was the Rosetta Stone in all of its amazing detail. Photos of the stone don’t do justice to the intricacy of the carvings thereon — tiny, and cut with a precision far beyond what I can manage with a pen and paper. We then proceeded through one of the Egypt galleries, with a number of huge sculptures we’d read about in a book for children on the Museum, and some of the Greek & Rome areas, which were likewise overwhelming.

By this point, we were all getting a bit hungry, so we ducked out of the building and grabbed lunch. I found the next entry in my Curious Crisp Hall of Fame: Slow Roasted Lamb & Mint flavor potato chips. The rest of the family enjoyed the peculiarly inconsistent service economy that seems to characterize London’s businesses at Burger King, where the help seemed rather put upon when asked to provide the actual food ordered, and would only grudgingly dole out a single packet of BBQ sauce when asked.

We then did a bit of wandering and shopping, spending a good deal of time in a game shop with a spectacular selection and a similarly varied toy store in Covent Garden Market, where we had our first encounters with buskers, London’s famed street entertainers. There was a human statue who would remain perfectly still until she heard the clink of coins in her dish, at which point she would come to life for long enough to pantomime her gratitude. We also encountered a nondescript looking woman in blue jeans beautifully singing soprano opera arias accompanied by a recorded orchestra on a boom box, and a charismatic string quartet which not only played wonderfully but managed some entertaining choreography as well. (The cellist was exempted from the dancing about, mercifully.)

As we were wandering in the Covent Garden area, we saw the theaters producing a number of the shows that are currently being heavily advertised around London: We Will Rock You, The Producers, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, Mary Poppins, The Lion King, and more. It surprised me a bit that so few of the current big shows in London’s famed theater district are original — nearly all are derived from other media that have been adapted to the musical stage. As much as I love the movie version of The Producers, it would seem that a stage show would be hard pressed to improve markedly on it, especially without Zero Mostel and Gene Wilder involved. We plan to take in a show before we leave, but will hopefully be able to find something a bit more original than these.

Kathy has now headed off to Paris with Heather until Thursday. Mom McMains should be rejoining the kids and I this evening, and we’ll have the next few days to focus on doing things around and near the city the children will enjoy.

We’ve made our way safely, though arduously, back to London after an absolutely smashing wedding. More details once we’ve settled back in and gotten something in our bellies. (I’m a bit behind on my writeups, but will try to catch up a bit this evening.)