terrapin gardens

Boxing Day

Thu, 27 Dec 2007 07:46:44 GMT

[This entry is part of a series. One may wish to start at the beginning.]

The day after Christmas (Boxing Day) we had a lovely breakfast of leftover Christmas sausages, eggs and toast. It was yet another delicious meal put in front of us by Jenny, but this morning we were a bit melancholy because our visit with the Mear family was coming to an end. We knew we had another week to our holiday, and we had no doubt we would have fun, but we were going to miss Chris, David, and Jenny. I joked with Jenny that she had spoiled us so much that the rest of our trip would be down hill by comparison.

That wasn't the case on Boxing Day afternoon though. Jan swung by around 10 a.m. and we loaded our luggage into the boot of her car, and we headed of to destinations unknown... well, to us. Jan had a day planned for us. All we knew was that we were going to be shown Essex. We thought that meant we were going for a short drive to the near-by forrest. It ends up Essex is much bigger than that, and Jan showed us a great day.

Our first stop was at Rod Stewart's house for tea. Well, not really. We stopped in this little wooded area, and walked out to take in the view. Rod's house just happen to be there. So, I shook my arse in the general direction of his manse while singing "Do you think I'm sexy" but he never came out to compliment me on my moves. Probably too busy making another crap standards compilation.

As Rod didn't invite us in for a tour we decided to move on, hoping back in the car for the brief trip to Greensted where the oldest wooden building in Europe stands. The building also claims to be the oldest wooden church in the world. St. Cedd, a Saxon-trained at the Celtic monastery on Lindisfarne, began his religious work in the area around 654 A.D., and a church was probably started shortly thereafter. The building was added to over the next several centuries, but the oldest part—the nave—was probably built around the time of the Battle of Hastings. One of the most interesting things we saw was the grave site of a crusader, who was probably a local who was seen as a hero. Regular services are still held in the church to this day. This was just the sort of thing we like, and it was very nice of Jan to take us here!

Next we made our way toward Chelmsford. The idea was to stop in Chelmsford for lunch, but when we got there Sarah and I were still too full from our sausagey breakfast. We wandered around the town, admiring the pargeting on the homes, and checking out the village ducks.

But Jan had other plans for us, and so we hopped back in her vehicle and headed to our next destination. I found Jan's road map in the back seat and tried to figure out where we were headed based on the road signs, in case she dropped us off in the middle of nowhere and took our luggage—not that Jan was capable of such a thing. I decided we were going to Maldon next, and it ended up I was correct.

Maldon is an adorable little seaside community on the Blackwater estuary on the east coast of England. We didn't completely explore the town, but we did walk down the high street on our way to the docks. Along the water there is a walk path, that hugs the shore. People, young and old, stroll along the water; some with their dogs or children in prams. There are places to get food, and a little human-made pond for people to play with their radio-controlled boats.

As soon as we arrived near the docks, we saw huge crowds of people gathered. Some were watching dancers while others were gawking at a Bentley parked to attract attention. We wandered around, taking in the sites around the docks, before strolling down to the point where there is a statue of a crusader.It was a beautiful day, and it was a lot of fun to watch all the people enjoying their Boxing Day outings.

We eventually made our way back to the car and headed off in search of lunch, which we found at a newer pub that was designed to look old. There we had a nice pub lunch before Jan dropped us off at the tube in search of our hotel.

This is where our day went down hill.

Tired from our long, fun day we dragged our luggage to one of the many hotels that line Sussex Garden Road near Paddington station. We easily found the hotel—The Normandie—we had booked on travelstay.com before we left the states, but quickly wished we were mistaken. It took the man at the counter a while to find our resevations, but he eventually caught on and we paid for the full 5 nights we expected to stay. We schlepped our luggage—which was getting heavier by the minute—up a flight of stairs, turned the key in the door and then tried to put on our best faces. Online the place had been described as being recently renovated, and even in the lobby there was a brochure touting the fresh new look. What we found was a dingy room with wallpaper peeling in the corners, mold in the shower, broken furniture, roach traps under the beds, and used soap bars in the sink. The place lived up to its name, if you first think of the French beach that was the site of the D-day invasion. We put on our best faces, because we weren't sure what to do. Neither of us wanted to stay in this dump, but it was already 9 p.m. on Boxing Day.

We decided we needed a drink and a place to think, so we left our bags, and walked around the corner hoping to find the pub we had been in on Saturday with Tait. That place, and most others, were closed so we ended up in the Windsor Castle pub. The pub was open, but was it ever tacky. When we walked in we were greeted by a old, little man who made fun of us for being American. Funny thing was, the entire place was populated by Americans. We ordered a couple of pints and made our decision. We were going to check out of the dumpy Normandie, and check into one of the myriad places on the same street, figuring any place would be better than the place were our bags were. On the way back to get our stuff and check out, we stopped by one of the places where the reception area looked nice. We asked a couple going in what the rooms were like and they referred to the place as "posh" so we went in and asked to look at a few rooms—we had learned our lesson on booking sight-unseen. The rooms were eccentric and interesting, each with a theme. They were also almost double what we had paid at the dumpy Normandie (yes, I hope to Google bomb them), but we decided it was worth it. We paid for a room for the next two nights and then went back to the Normandie to claim our things and check out. At the dumpy Normandie the man behind the counter at first refused to give us a refund claiming we had used the room already (giving me an idea of their usual clientele, and insulting me and Sarah at the same time) and therefore at least owed him for one night. I argued that the place did not live up to its online description (or the brochure on his desk) and that I demanded a full refund. He called his boss, chatted in a language I did not understand, and then told me that if I wanted a full refund I would have to come back the next day to speak with the boss. I snickered at him and said that I would not be returning and that I would get my money back through the issuer of my credit card. As much as I wanted to lay into this guy, he was not the slumlord, and yelling at him wouldn't help anything. We walked the block or so to our new hotel, unpacked our bags in our cozy tiny room. The rooms had names rather than numbers, and we had decided on "White Days, Soul Nights" over "Indian Summer" or "Cosmic Girl." After we had settled in, I walked to the corner store to get a few take away pints of Guinness.

It was a difficult end to an otherwise great day, but, as predicted, nothing could compare to the hospitality that Jenny provided. We were just glad to be out of the dumpy...

Happy Christmas ... Pass the Sausages

Wed, 26 Dec 2007 07:59:44 GMT

[This entry is part of a series. One may wish to start at the beginning.]

If we thought we were being spoiled by Jenny with her Chinese food cooking and overall generosity for the week, she out did herself on Christmas. As I mentioned in the previous installment, we stayed up quite late the night before drinking and generally making merry, so when we heard Jenny yell "David!" on Christmas morning, we decided we had better get up and not make Jenny wait to open her presents.

When we got downstairs, Jenny had already put out some delicious mini breakfast baps, eggrolls, and had coffee ready, so all we had to do was fall into the couch and wait while Santa Jenny handed out gifts from under the tree. After opening gifts we enjoyed more tea and coffee and relaxed under dinner.

Jenny had dinner on the table by around 1 o'clock, and wow did she ever prepare a feast! There was a turkey draped in bacon that was so juicy, despite not being brined. She said she got the idea from Gordon Ramsey. All I know is it was juicy and delicious. The rest of the meal was made up of what I understand to be the traditional English Christmas dishes. We had Brussels sprouts, steamed carrots, fried parsnips, delicious roasted potatoes, cranberry relish, and three kinds of sausages—one of which was wrapped in bacon!

Before we sat down to stuff ourselves with this amazing culinary display, we pulled crackers, put on our paper crowns, and read the lame jokes. A real English Christmas.

After dinner, we waddled out of the dining room to plop ourselves in front of the telly to catch Queen Elizabeth's Christmas message—her 50th, and the first in high definition. The Queen had barely finished her speech when Jenny called us back to the table for dessert... errr... pudding, which was made up of Christmas Pudding, trifle and an assortment of fresh fruits, including mango, papaya and pineapple.

After puddings we again made our way to telly room to watch universally recognized tradition holiday films like Finding Nemo and Shrek 2. By the way, one of the differences I noticed about Christmas in America and Christmas in England is that Americans are more likely to have traditional films we watch for the holiday. Think Miracle on 34th Street, It's a Wonderful Life, White Christmas, A Christmas Story, etc. While the Brits seem to be nostalgic about Christmas music. And the British Christmas music is more likely to be pop music than American holiday sounds. When I think of Christmas songs, I am likely to think of standards like "White Christmas," "Winter Wonderland," "Little Drummer Boy," etc. The pop Christmas songs I hear in England are songs that may have been played in America the year they were released, but rarely are played after. Songs like "Last Christmas" by Wham!, "Wonderful Christmas Time" by Paul McCartney, and Band Aid's "Do They Know It's Christmas." The latter seemed to drop off American airwaves almost immediately after Live Aid in 1985. Anyway, just an observation. I still never heard Santa's Super Sleigh though.

After watching the aforementioned Christmas classic films, Sarah, Chris and I took a long walk around the neighbourhood to walk off dinner and pudding. We must have walked for an hour or so, but still felt full when we returned. Before we left we knew that there was still another course of food, but when we were told there was cheese, we envisaged a cheese plate and some crackers. What we returned to was a whole new meal. There were 8 different kinds of cheeses, a deli meat platter, crackers (the edible kind), bread, chutneys, bread sauce, olives, onions, pickles, celery, carrots, and port wine. We told ourselves we wouldn't eat much, but it is impossible to get away with not eating when Jenny is in charge! Besides it was cheese! So it didn't take too much convincing to get us to over indulge.

At this point I had to loosen my belt and have a lie down. We retired for the final time of the evening to the television room to watch the Red Dwarf marathon before I excused myself to go to bed. Sarah, Chris and David popped open a bottle of champagne and had a few glasses before finally saying goodnight to Christmas. One of the best Christmas' ever.

Next: Boxing Day Adventures with Essexjan.

Christmas Eve Midnight Mass ... Jam!

Mon, 24 Dec 2007 14:40:09 GMT

[This entry is part of a series. One may wish to start at the beginning.]

For the first time since arriving in England we took it easy today. No shopping, no site-seeing. Mostly we hung out drinking tea, talking, watching Christmas-related shows on the telly, and occasionally slipping away to wrap holiday gifts. A nice, lazy, Christmas Eve.

In the late afternoon Jenny surprised us with another scrumptious meal. Sarah had told Jenny how her favourite meat was lamb and so there it was. Jenny is amazing!

After supper Sarah and I watched our traditional holiday film, About a Boy. Not exactly a Christmas film, but with some elements that we think display Christmas spirit. David joined us and seemed to enjoy our silly little tradition. Once the film had ended, Jenny, David, Sarah and I played Upwords. It was the first time I had played, and while it seems familiar to Scrabble fans like me, it is a game that requires a different way of thinking. Jenny and David competed with each other while politely watching while Sarah and I struggled. It was still good fun to relax and play a good board game.

While we were playing games, Chris was off practicing for the night's gig... playing organ at midnight mass at St. Mary's Church in Walthstow. He came back after rehearsal to pick up Sarah and I so we could join him for the jam.

It was short drive to the church, and we arrived well before the worshipers, so Sarah and I wandered around the ancient place, checking out the architecture and the burial stones. The only people around when we arrived were the Vicar, deacons, and another gentlemen—who later was revealed to be the new archdeacon ... and a West Ham supporter. People were polite at that news, but it may have been because it was Christmas. There was at least one guy, sitting behind us, wearing an Arsenal jacket. I was polite when I met him (before the West Ham announcement, naturally) while I wandered around before the service. He asked if I was a regular, and I replied that I was visiting from the States and there to support Chris, the organist. He asked me where I was from in the States, and when I replied Vermont, we said "ah, yes. That's in the west, correct?" I politely corrected him, we conversed a little more before parting ways.

Sarah, who had gone outside to wait for our friend to arrive, returned a few minutes later with Jan in tow. Jan took a few photos of Chris and then joined us in a pew nearest the organ.

The service was somewhat familiar to me, but still different enough that I kept my mouth shut most of the time. Even with the karaoke screens and monitors everywhere displaying the words to songs didn't really help. Songs that I thought I knew had completely different words than I recalled from my childhood.

The vicar was nice, and funny. At the beginning of the service he made some announcements. He said that Jesus didn't want us to hold it, and directed people to where the loos were located. He said that there was a carpeted area with toys if the kids or adults needed a lie down. He reminded people to turn off their mobiles saying that at midnight they would start beeping with text wishes from family and friends hoping to be the first to wish a happy Christmas; and that some of these people would no doubt have been indulging in a bit of holiday cheer.

We came for Chris' organ playing though, and we were not disappointed. He rocked the house! The organ sounded great and Chris made it sing. Sending people home with Toccata from Widor's fifth organ symphony.

Once the service was over the four of us wandered around the village near the church. We said goodbye to Jan and headed back to Chris' place where we ended up staying up until 4 a.m. drinking scotch whisky and singing songs while David played guitar.

Next: Happy Christmas ... pass the sausages.

A Day Trip to Cambridge

Sun, 23 Dec 2007 18:55:26 GMT

[This entry is part of a series. One may wish to start at the beginning.]

When we woke up this morning it looked like quintessential English weather as a fog hung over London. I assumed it would burn off as the day went on, but we lucked out that it remained for the rest of the day. It added a lovely aesthetic to our trip to Cambridge. The drive to Cambridge, however, was uneventful because the same fog made it impossible to view any scenery with the exception of the motorway. Thankfully Chris knew his way.

Once in Cambridge, we made a beeline to the outdoor cafe near the carpark for hot coffee, before making our way to the outdoor market to shop for last minute gifts. The market was an eclectic mix of art, knick knacks, and food shops all with interesting wares as well as shopkeepers.

We had no real destinations while in Cambridge. Chris guided us around in order to see the various colleges and their sites, all the while imparting little bits of wisdom on Cambridge history and lore. Many of the colleges were closed due to the holidays, including Emmanuel—Chris' college—while others thankfully had their gates open. The buildings and chapels are breathtaking.

After wandering around for a few hours we stopped in for lunch at The Eagle, which is possibly best known as the place where Francis Crick announced that he and James Watson had "discovered the secret of life" after coming up with their proposal for the structure of DNA in 1953. I didn't find this bit out until I went looking for a link for this post, though, so all I knew at the time is that the place had delicious fish n' chips and tasty beer.

After lunch we walked around a little longer, stopping briefly at a Rɘvolution—a chain of trendy vodka bars that seem to be popping up everywhere. We stopped primarily to use their loo, but decided to at least have lattes since we were using their facilities. The service at this place was odd. We sat down and ordered our drinks. A short while later they arrived; we finished them and then waited and waited and waited and never saw our waitress again. I approached another staff member to ask for our waitress letting them know we wanted to settle our tab. They, at first, were confused and thought we wanted to order another round of lattes. We explained we needed to leave and the woman left to find our waitress. The same woman returned and told us that she was sorry we had to wait and that our drinks were free. At least we think that's what she said. We slowly put on our coats and just as slowly made our way to the exit, in case we were mistaken. No one stopped us, so I guess we heard correctly.

We were still making our way to the carpark, but there was a John Lewis' across the street so we stopped briefly to look for more gifts. The place was packed, but again queues moved quickly and the staff was helpful and nice.

On the way home, the traffic was a bit slower as people made their way to their Christmas destinations. We drove mostly in silence while listening to Christmas songs on the radio.

I am glad to report that it remained foggy the whole time we were in Cambridge, and I will always recall it romantically draped in mist. It was a great day all around, and I am grateful to Chris for chauffeuring us as well as showing us around Cambridge.

Next: Christmas Eve Midnight Mass ... Jam!

Who Are You !?

Sun, 23 Dec 2007 05:26:39 GMT

[This entry is part of a series. One may wish to start at the beginning.]

As promised the night before, Sarah and I made our way over to Jess & Nick's flat the next day to have tea (and whisky) and Christmas fruit cake. We even remembered to drop off the gift we forgot the night before!

They have a brilliant flat near the Pimlico tube stop with a lovely view from the roof deck. We had a nice visit and the conversation was stimulating. Sucks that there is a big ocean between us.

As their last great service, Nick & Jess alerted us to the time-saving of using the overground train from Vauxhall to Wimbledon, and walked us to the train station. This allowed us to visit with them longer, so we were grateful.

The train ride was quick and we easily beat Spahr, Tait, and Sharp to the planned meetup spot at Wimbledon station. It was great to see the lads again and I was pleased to introduce them to Sarah. Spahr brought along his son, who I hadn't seen since he was a tot. Great kid.

As a group we rode a train over to a stop near the grounds and walked until we reached Craven Cottage. Once there, I had a small issue with my ticket, which required me to bounce around between helpful people with orange jackets and handheld computers; however, I eventually was able to enter and meet up with Sarah, Sharp and Tait at our seats in the neutral section ("Come on, Neutrals!").

Despite ending in a 1-1 draw, the match was quite enjoyable. The home team fell behind late in the second half on a goal by Marcus Bent—who, from my vantage point, appeared to be offside. Up until that first goal, Fulham had been the better side going forward. After the goal they worked hard and, eight minutes later, American Clint Dempsey, equalized with a low drive from the edge of the area.

After the game, we met up again with the Spahrs and headed over to a pub by the tube stop. The place was packed, but I managed to wiggle my way to the bar rather easily and ordered a round for the group. The Spahrs left shortly after, and the rest of us (Sharp, Tait, Sarah and myself) went in search of another drinking establishment. Hopefully one showing the late-starting Wolves match.

We only walked about a block when I noticed the familiar orange strips on the telly in a large, posh bar. We went inside, Tait got the round and we all ordered food. The burgers were huge and served on thick breadboards. The game was at half time and the Wolves were down 0-1, but they scored midway through the second half to equalize. Shortly after that they scored what appeared to be the winning goal, only to have it (rightfully, honestly) called back for offsides.

After the match, Sharp left for home while we made our way to a quiet pub to catch up. The Harcourt Pub near the Edgware Road tube stop met our needs and we relaxed over a last round before calling it a night.

Next: A Day Trip to Cambridge