Birthday in London

My wife was born on 3 Nov.  So she thought it would be special to stay in London for her birthday.  Her birthday was Thursday and our departure was scheduled for Friday, the next day.  We had the entire day in London, Thursday, to celebrate her birthday.

Source:TheOriginalLondonSightseeingTour

On Wednesday we took the Original London Sightseeing Tour.  When we returned to the apartment that night my wife was tired and her leg was sore.  Thursday was a day of taking it easy, keeping her leg up, watching some British TV, not overdoing it before our flight home.  We discussed going to a restaurant to celebrate her birthday.  I got a half-hearted commitment.

My search for a restaurant started with Jamie Oliver.  We had seen Jamie's Italian in Islington as we rode along the 38 bus route.  There was also a Jamie's Italian in the new mall at the end of the Overground near the Stratford Station, soon to be gateway to London 2012 Olympics. 


I just started making bread before I left the US and wanted to share my experience with my daughter and her new husband.  She would need a baking stone as described in my bread making bible, Artisan Bread In Five Minutes A Day.
                                         
While looking at Jamie's Italian at the mall, it would also be a good place to look for a baking stone.

Throwing my camera bag over my left shoulder, I left the apartment and headed for Hackney Wick Station.  It was drizzling a bit but generally it was another nice day during our late October visit in the UK.  There was never a time I needed to wear my heavy jacket during the our UK trip, not even on the river tour when it was breezy.  I boarded the train heading towards Stratford station, the very next stop, the end of the line.

Source:Flickr/sludgegulper

Lots of Olympic construction could be seen from the train.  

Source:GooglMaps

The olympic village is just across a canal from my daughter's apartment.  The canal is the western boarder of the village.  It's that dark vertical line to the left of the light shaded area in which the oval stadium stands.

©GettyImagesViaNigeriaNews

The mall was within eyesight of the train station.  I might even say within a stone's throw.  Westfield Mall was huge, a bit high end, too.  

I mean, I never saw a champagne bar on the concourse floor of any mall I have ever visited in the US.  Of course, I try to stay out of malls in the US.

Westfield Mall opened in Sept 2011 and is still feeling its way with mixed use of public spaces.

There were 234 stores in this four story 7,883,700 square foot mall.

While looking for a Williams-Sonoma type store, I found a gallery of small shops near the James Lewis store.  I was impressed by one shop selling artisan breads and rolls, Karaway.  I was tempted to purchase a Russian Rye.  I circled that shop like a vulture floating on warm odorous updrafts.

Source:JW Waterhouse

The breads called to me like the Sirens to Ulysses.  Luckily I had stuffed my ears with wax before leaving the apartment.  I broke free of the singing and continued on my journey to purchase a baking stone for my daughter.

Two floors above the bakery, near John Lewis, I found Lakeland.  Lakeland is the UK's leading kitchenware specialist.  They didn't have what I wanted.  John Lewis was now in my sights, my last resort.  Even with the help of a store associate, from a different department, it took me quite some time to find a pizza baking stone on the bottom shelf of a free standing display.  
                                          
The box contained a near 15"(38cm) round stone with a wire cooling rack that had handles.  It wasn't what I wanted.

                                                               
I was looking for a thicker 18" (47.5cm) square stone.  I gave up looking for the stone and turned my efforts to search for Jamie's Italian.

Source:Coverpointfood

Looking for the baking stone, I had been through the entire mall and didn't see Jamie's Italian.  So I exited the mall just outside of John Lewis.  There, across a wide pavement, I saw Jamie's Italian.  

Source:Jamie's Italian

Attached to the window was their menu.  I took in the menu and I wasn't wildly excited.  It was a sure bet that the food wasn't the mediocre plateful I would get at a pizza shop in the US but the price reflected that.  If you ordered a full dinner, entrée and a side, it was pricey.  It wasn't pricey by London standards but it was by my standards.  Remember that you need to multiply the prices in British pounds by 1.5 to equal US dollars.  I entered Jamie's and received a menu to take back to the apartment to share with my family.  I was not going to make the decision, alone.  No way!  Not by myself!  Did I say I have been married for thirty-four years?  I have learned a thing or two in that time.

Source:Bumpkin

Source:Bumpkin

As I exited Jamie's I saw  across the wide pavement another restaurant, Bumpkin.  I walked over to view their menu in the window.  I liked the looks of this place.  Their menu was more like a traditional English Pub; venison, quail, mutton, salmon, partridge, ell, black pudding...   I didn't see much for a vegetarian; my daughter you will remember.   So I entered Bumpkin and talked with the manager.  He assured me they would accommodate the dietary needs of a vegetarian.  The manager gave me a menu to take home, even though it was not meant to be taken from the restaurant, and I headed to the Overground station.

Source:Bloomberg

At the other end of the mall was the train station.  At that very same end was Marks & Spencer food store.  I picked up some wine, apple cider, bread and a few other items and was off to the train.


Back in the apartment, my wife half-heartedly went over the menus.  It seems there was a change in plans after I left on my journey.  My daughter's high school friend was in London with her husband and two toddlers and they would be joining us for dinner.  There were no Sirens sweetly singing but our ship was surely dashed upon the rocks.  We would not be going out to a restaurant but staying at the apartment, entertaining.  Take out or as they say in London, take away, was in the works.  Fish and chips and mushy peas would be our celebratory birthday dinner.  At least we were in London for her birthday.  That in itself was special.


©Damyon T. Verbo - all rights reserved

Back to London - Breathless

All our luggage was in the lobby of Ginnie's Guesthouse.  Only four of us for the car ride back to London because my son was on his way to visit The University of York via train.  My son-in-law and I loaded the car with my son-in-law bringing out the last bag.  I squeezed into the back seat, next to the bags.  My wife had the middle section of seats to herself with her right leg and her pink cast spread out over the seats next to her.  My son-in-law drove with my daughter next to him.  We were off.  


Our route was via the A46 around Lincoln to the A1 down to London with a piece on the A16 fitting in there somewhere.  The countryside along the road reminded me of Lancaster County here in Pennsylvania; green rolling hills with plenty of farms.

Somewhere near Stamford we stopped at an OK Diner.  The diner looked like an American diner from the exterior with its stainless steel and neon OPEN sign.  The OK sign reminded me of the old OK used car signs of Chevrolet dealers. 

The interior wasn't quite like a typical American diner.  I didn't see any counter.  The center of the ceiling was much to high.  It reminded more of a TGIFs.  The decor was trying a bit hard for '50s US nostalgia.


We all ordered off the menu.  The wait was a bit long.  They seemed to be short on staff.  The food was good at a reasonable price, for London.  All that was missing for an authentic US diner was American dialects and diner language being yelled to the cook, like:"One hockey puck, run it through the garden, fries in the alley, cheese'um and put wings on that." 


Once back on the road again, it didn't seem long before we were back at the apartment in Hackney Wick.  We unloaded all the bags outside the door to the apartment building.  My son-in-law was in a hurry to return the car before another day's rent was added to the total.  The three of us were left to drag everything upstairs to the apartment.  The pink cast on my wife's foot handicapped her, so it was really just my daughter and I to lug the bags.

Outside the door

Once everything was in the apartment, I brought our bags into the bedroom we were using.  At that point I realized my CPAP bag was missing.  I returned outside to where we unloaded the car to see if it was there.  It wasn't outside.  I went back upstairs and searched the whole apartment.  I couldn't find it.  My daughter called her husband to look in the car before he turned it in at the rental office.  It wasn't in the car, either.


I have been using the CPAP for near ten years now.  Before I was tested for sleep apnea, my blood pressure was chronically and dangerously high.  My doctor was unable to lower my blood pressure and my dosage of medications was at their limits.  After wearing the CPAP for a few months, my blood pressure began to drop.  Today, if I fell asleep without the CPAP I usually awaken after a very short period with my heart racing and pounding.  The kind of pounding I can see.  There is no way I can sleep uninterrupted and healthily without the CPAP.

Google Maps

My last guess was I left it at Ginnies Guesthouse, two hours away by car.  I called Ginnies.  It was there in Cleethorpes.  I told Francis, the owner, I would be up that very night to collect it.  I called my son-in-law's parents appraised them of my situation and requested I spend the night with them.  Everything was settled.  I would travel back to Grimsby by train that night.  My son's-in-law parent's would collect me at the Grimsby Town train station.  We would then go to pick up the CPAP at Ginnies.  I would sleep at my son's-in-law parents' house and return to London in the morning on the train.

I checked to be sure I had my credit card and off I was to King's Cross Station.

©Damyon T. Verbo - all rights reserved

English Wedding Reception- Grimsby

We arrived at the golf club after a short ride from Louth.  The reception was on the second floor of the clubhouse overlooking the course.  There was a lovely view from the deck.


The room was a good size.  There were round tables from one end to the other.  Enough open area was left for a small dance floor and standing at the bar.

The disc jockey set up his equipment at the far end of the room.

He had cases and cases of CDs.  Duct tape was the language he spoke.
  
Blinking lights was the story he told.  

Bulbs the size of those on the beach in Cleethorpes.  

Power Play was his name.

                      

Not that I am saying the DJ was behind the times but at least twice I looked over and thought he was calling the '80s.  Then I realized he was using a phone receiver to sync the CDs.  Seems he didn't have headphones.

My daughter decorated with pumpkins, to tie in the late October date.  She used the pumpkin carving kit I brought over and some black lace stockings into which she stuffed other pumpkins.  She did a nice job.

                     

If you wanted an alcoholic beverage, there was a cash bar.  There was an open bar at the wedding in the US.  The young Brits at that wedding didn't know what to drink first.  They were like kids turned loose in a candy shop and someone shouted, "Free candy!"

Even though there was a cash bar in Grimsby, my son didn't seem to have any problem getting himself a drink.

My wife had a difficult time with her new pink cast.  Don't get me wrong, the color didn't have anything to do with the discomfort.  It was the cast and the pain of the broken bone that were to blame.  The reception was on the second floor of the club house.  The stairs to the reception room had one of those elevator chairs bolted to the wall.  This was much appreciated, as my wife had yet to master the stairs with crutches.

We met family and friends unable to attend the US wedding in May.  We were glad we were able to make the trip to the UK to be a part of this joyous celebration.  I think everyone enjoyed themselves.  I know we did.

The English reception was booked for seven hours.  We were exhausted once back at the guest house.  It was one of those good feeling exhaustions, though.  The kind of exhaustion that takes a load off your shoulders.  Then I realized I had one less child to carry.  She now had a husband with broad shoulders.

©Damyon T. Verbo - all rights reserved

Cleethorpes - Kind of Surreal

Man in the Moon display on the beach, Cleethorpes, UK

The location of the English wedding reception for my daughter and her new British husband was in Grimsby, England.  My wife and I decided to look for a hotel or guest house nearby.  Before leaving the US, I did my research on the internet, or the interweb as I heard it called in UK.  I found a guest house not far away in a seaside resort named Cleethorpes.

We booked a room at Ginnie' Guesthouse.  Ginnie's turnout to be a gem.  Our room was great.  It had its own toilet, sink and stall shower.  A large window provided great light.  There was both a double and single bed.  A large wardrobe closet was more than ample for our needs.  Enough electrical outlets for my camera charger and my CPAP.  A modest sized TV with remote and free cable that carried British and a few familiar US shows added just enough sparkle .  Overall our second floor room was wonderful.

That night, we were invited to dinner at my daughter's in-laws and I am not sure if it was the conversation or the pain but after dinner my wife decided to go to the hospital to have a health professional look at her foot.  (See the previous post about her foot)         

It was a week and a day of pain since her fall in London.  She didn't see a doctor before this because she had a fear the doctor's and hospital' bills would drain our wallets.  A visit to the ER in the US would cost at least $400 without any doctors' or X-ray bills.  Without money our stay would be, shall I say, uneventful, boring.  We would all be looking out the window at the canal traffic, Olympic construction and watching Friends on Comedy Central on British TV back at my daughter's apartment until our flight home.  It turned out that with the socialized medicine in UK, if there was no hospital stay we didn't need to pay anything.  Nothing.  Nada.  Free.  Even though we were foreigners.  Thank you your majesty, Queen Elizabeth and all your loyal subjects.

We returned to Ginnie's from the hospital with a plaster cast and crutches.  As we noisily asended the stairs after midnight, with me reminding her that people were asleep, my wife remarked of how her life would be so much easier if we had the first floor room at the bottom of the stairs.  Nonetheless, she clumsily hobbled to the second floor, having never before used crutches, even though she had both knees replaced just three years ago.

At breakfast the very next morning, Kim, the owner of Ginnie's, moved us into that first floor room.  It was a nice room but not as great as the second floor room.  The move, however, did make our lives easier.

Our first breakfast was the full English breakfast that included, fried eggs, two rashers of bacon, two bangers (sausages), a small fried tomato, beans, mushrooms and our choice of white or whole grain toast.  My coffee arrived in a small french press pot and my wife received a hot pot of tea.

Source: Two Guys Breakfast Blog

It was great.  The beans kind of blindsided me though.  As an American living in the NorthEast/Mid-Atlantic region I am more familiar with potatoes and not beans with my breakfast.  Beans are saved for hot dogs or maybe outdoor grilling.  I ate them just the same, thank you.

We didn't get to see many sites around Grimsby or Cleethorpes on Friday, except those along the way to the in-laws house, a few miles inland from the beach.

Steel's Corner House Restaurant

Friday evening we had reservations at a well established restaurant in Cleethorpes, renown for their fish and chips, Steel's Corner House Restaurant.  The menu was not huge but varied and included a few vegetarian entrees.   We narrowed our choice down to Small Haddock and Chips, Medium Haddock and Chips or Jumbo Haddock and Chips.  My wife and I settled for the Med Haddock and Chips with a choice of Mushy Peas or no Mushy Peas.  We opted for the Mushy Peas which are just as is sounds, mushed peas.  The food was great and plentiful.  We were glad we didn't go for the jumbo.  The jumbo overhung the plate and those that ordered it, found it difficult to finish.  A few Carling beers were consumed and dinner went well.

We took a taxi from the house in Grimsby to Steel's.  Seems taxis are used quite a bit in UK, even in small towns.  Whereas, finding a taxi in suburban Philadelphia would be a challenge, to say the least.  The route back to Ginnie's followed along the beach.  It was soon after turning onto Kings Way that I saw the sequentially lit electric display called the Man in the Moon, as seen at the top of this post.  I was struck by its grander, that I had stepped back in time.  It was kind of surreal.

Once back at Ginnie's, I helped my wife to the room and got her settled.  I told my wife I was off to capture some photographs of the illuminations.  I needed to see these lighted works of art up close.

It was only 300 yds east on Queens Parade to Kings Way.  I stopped at the intersection.   Along the beach in both directions I saw several sequentially blinking displays of lights; dazzling lights depicting windmills, seals playing catch with a beach ball, a sailboat and the Man on the Moon, among others.  These illuminations have been around for some time.  You can see some here on YouTube in a 8mm film starting at 7:48, taken in Cleethorpes in the 60's .

Two types of lights were used on the displays.  One type was mini rope lights, the other was large faceted bulbs.  This latter type reminded me of light bulbs used on carnival rides made in Italy I saw in shopping malls in the US.  

Fabbri Group

Those bulbs and their connection to Italy flashed images of Fellini movies into my mind, La Strada, Nights of Cabiria, 8 1/2.  As a matter of fact, the whole town had a Fellini feel; a post WWII carnival feel.  At that moment, I really wasn't sure I was awake or dreaming.  I didn't hear any Italian being spoken or see any females wearing huge hats.

Juliet of the Spirits

Juliet of the Spirits

Actually, I didn't see anyone at all.


©Damyon T. Verbo - all rights reserved

The UK A1- Not a Highway by US Standards

Thursday we took the A1 from London to Grimsby, a three hour trip.  Grimsby is on the east coast not quite halfway between London and Scotland.  The five of us were driving most of the trip on the A1.

The A1 is no major highway by US standards.  It was two lanes wide in each direction.  Very small shoulder on the side of the road and the shortest entrance ramps I have ever seen, excepting the eastbound Girard Avenue ramp of the Schuylkill Expressway.

We hired a larger car, by Euro standards.  The car was a Vauxhall with us sitting two abreast three deep.

Here was the seating arrangement.  My son-in-law driving, my 6'4" son beside him in the front.  I was behind the driver and my wife beside me with her bad foot elevated on my left thigh.  My daughter was trapped in the rear behind me along side the sandwiches and drinks, luggage, gown, suits and of course my CPAP machine.  It was a snug fit, by US standards.

©Damyon T. Verbo - all rights reserved