There, that wasn't so bad a wait was it? I'm back, obviously. Where've I been? The UK,
again. Usually there's quite a gap between trips, but this one was a mere 7 and a bit months. We went again so soon because of my Cousin's wedding, and it turned out to be one of the most mental trips I've ever been on. It'll be a while before I go again unfortunately, but next time we plan for it to be a little more relaxing.
This post is going to be a little different from most as I want to get down things that happened on the trip so I can remind myself just how crazy it was compared to the usual ones (which are rarely boring). I'll fit in the sketching I did first though. I don't really care if you don't want to read all the text - this one is for my own benefit; feel free to check out the pictures and ignore the text if you want to.
Photo Credits:
Lu4379,
natalieeex3,
Nilla, (I don't recall where I saw the other two as I was exceedingly drunk at the time - probably Pinterest). Click to enlarge of course.
Day 1: In Which Our Heroes Traverse Three Airports and Three Train StationsFirst of all we did our now preferred method of getting to the UK by driving to the airport in the next city over (they have free long term parking and the flights work out cheapest) and flying to Chicago from there. Unusually I went directly from work, which resulted in a strange mental state I've not had since I went to a friends wedding in Colorado a few years back, when I also went directly from work and then immediately out for a bachelor party - It results in a feeling of unreality because my brain hasn't really had a chance to process what's about to happen, which is a downside; a bit like feeling mildly drugged. The advantage is that I didn't have to use up a vacation day, which is great.
From Chicago we had an seven and a half hour flight to London Heathrow, where I managed to sketch exactly one picture (bottom right corner of the Drawn from Life image). Part of the issue was that the woman in front of me decided to recline her seat, and being rather tall I was pretty much nailed in place and unable to get in a good position to sketch. I was also unable to get into a comfortable position to sleep - an issue since it was an overnight flight. She slept just fine - the
entire way. Thanks for that Norwegian woman :/
Since I couldn't sleep or sketch much I read a lot and watched the in flight entertainment (
Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy - good film, despite the changes and compressions from the book, though I think if I hadn't read the book I would have no clue as to what was going on).
On arrival in Heathrow we went through Customs and Immigration (much longer line than usual) and met my Mother on the far side. She's not from London, but was in town for the wedding (She'd come early to meet us too - well, to meet my Son, if it was just me and the wife she probably would have waited a day, and who could blame her?). A long walk to the Underground Tube (Subway) station ensued at which point my Wife realised we'd forgotten the booster seat for my Son back at the Baggage Claim. Bugger. Walking back is a lot further than walking too due to the tunnels being designed to take you away from the terminal rather than toward.
Once the seat was finally back in our possession (involving a nice bit of confusion over some phones marked for incoming calls only, even though you could use them to dial out if you had permission - something we'd entirely failed to be told) we headed back to the Tube.
I love the London Underground (for the most part) - despite it's age and numerous governments doing their best to cock it up over the years it's still insanely simple to get from where you are to very close to where you need to be for a very reasonable price. The map is legendary of course, and it took all of 45 seconds to plot our route to Islington's Angel, which our hotel was in close proximity of. I won't harp on about the Underground in this post any more, but it's all that makes most trips to London even remotely possible.
While in transit I was seated opposite a girl for a fair while and I tried to draw her later (lower left corner of From Memory). I think I got fairly close, although her eye makeup was pretty epic so I've not captured it at all, and her face was a bit narrower. The only other Tube based picture was also from memory and that's the fellow furthest right on the bottom of that image - he looks a little like my friend
Owain here, but didn't at all in life.
Finally at the Hotel (The Premier Inn, Islington) and checked into a room I passed out on the bed after being awake for 24 hours. 2 hours later I was up again, if not all together present, for us to go for a meal. Slowest meal ever, and also shockingly over priced. I could have dealt with this if I'd had a little more sleep and less jet lag - but as it was I was most irritated. Ah well, after that it was off to bed again for some blissful and rather longer sleep.
Day 2: Adventures with Dinosaurs and ArgentiniansThe morning saw us in the Restaurant again, this time for breakfast. Since it was a buffet it was not plagued by the slowness of the previous evening and the staff were much more on the ball. I've done a truly horrific sketch of the girl who seated us on the From Memory image - she's right above the chap I drew on the tube, one over from the right side. After breakfast it was off to the Natural History Museum for my son to see the Dinosaurs (his sole request of what to do in London) and we realised, too late, that it was Good Friday. In the UK it's a holiday (unlike the US), so the Museum was completely and utterly packed. We did get to see the Dino's (The Animatronic T. Rex Terrifying my son, again), but didn't get to do much else there before it was time to get back to the Hotel. I must look like a scruffy local as I was asked 3 times for directions to various other places while sitting on a wall outside. I was of no assistance.
Back at the hotel we met more of the family (arrived for the wedding the next day), sorted ourselves out and then headed out to a bar for a pre-wedding drink and a meal. Unfortunately my Son wasn't allowed on the premises due to the licensing laws preventing it after 6PM. Well, that was annoying. He wasn't even allowed in the beer garden - I don't recall that being an issue when I was a kid, and it caused all sorts of problems as 3 small bridesmaids were also out of luck, as well as another cousin's eldest daughter (what's that make her? My Second Cousin or some such?). So, we ended up with the kids in the cafe next door eating icecream with myself and various relatives flitting back and forth between there and the bar to see them. Madness. Eventually my Wife decided to just take him back to the Hotel, but said I should stay. I don't think she was expecting me to be as late as I was (Which after being part of the family for as long as she has is quite surprising). Much alcohol, a catchup with my Brother and a highly variable Argentinian meal followed before we got back to the hotel again somewhere around midnight. I walked yet another cousin (the bride's brother) and his wife back as they were also in the same hotel - all of us a little drunk.
Day 3: One Wedding, Two BusesUp early(ish) with a hangover then down for breakfast again before all heading back to get ready. By 11 we were on our way, and before we knew it we were at the Islington Town Hall for the ceremony. I won't bore you with the details of the wedding itself except to say the Bride looked wonderful and was a little late (as is tradition). After that my Son had to supply her with a horseshoe for good luck (another tradition) before we all piled onto a pair of hired Routemaster's (a London Bus) for a whistlestop trip to one of London's Parks (I forget which) for photos and then off again to the reception.
Again, I'll spare you the details of the reception - speeches were made, drink drunk and food eaten; the Lamb and the "
Eaton Mess" (instead of a cake) were delicious. Eventually we had to leave before the dancing as we were still Jetlagged and my Son was ready to pass out (again, he'd already done so during Dinner - I have a great picture of him out cold on my lap while I'm still swigging wine). Got back to the Hotel by ~11 after being ripped off by the cabbie (complete sod - When in London stick to the Black Hackney Cabs if you can - this was a Mini Cab) we didn't know that until the next day when my Mother told us how much their cab had cost. Other than the Cab a rather pleasant, if tiring, day.
Day 4: Das BootUp, breakfast, out, again. This time we were off on a boat ride up the Thames. Myself, Wife, Child, Mother (Ma), Mothers Boyfriend (Smith) and my grandmother (Nan) all cabbed it over to Victoria Embankment (Nan being too Ill to manage the Tube). Got there early so Ma and Smith wanted to wait in the Bar there and have some food. Bar was open, but again would not entertain Children. London is not a child friendly city I guess. That or it's run by a pack of bastards. Anyway, since Nan couldn't walk far we left them to eat there while Me, Wife and Son went to find somewhere else. Eventually we made it to the Strand and a place called
Smollensky's, which turned out to be far better than it's name might suggest. They had a
Pearly King doing a clown type routine with spinning plates and magic and such so the boy was happy, and for the UK the service and speed of the food was nothing short of miraculous.
Anyway, we ate and left all in a reasonable time frame to get back to boat before boarding. My Brother had brought along his long time friend Guy, who moved to London years ago and I haven't seen since he was about 10 or so. Had a lovely chat while missing many of the sights of London. Reached the Millennium Dome, turned around and came back - I saw more of the Sights on the return trip. During this my Son fell for one of the Bridesmaids - She was 8, I guess he likes older women. The trip lasted 3 hours and was very nice despite the weather.
After the boat it was back to the Hotel to await everyone's arrival so we could all have a meal (This time we took the tube while Ma, Smith and Nan cabbed it - I forget why). Since Nan was still ill and it took so long for everyone to arrive we decided to eat in the Hotel Restaurant. It hadn't improved. It took an hour for us to even get a drink, the food took almost another hour, and though I had left to put my Son to bed by then there was apparently only icecream for desert because they'd closed the kitchen at 10:30. This annoyed everyone since if the food had come in a timely manner desert could have been ordered and eaten long before the kitchen closed. Useless buggers. Nice to see everyone though, and in an Odd coincidence the Bride and Groom showed up on their way to somewhere else - they only knew we were all there because they bumped into me outside (I was smoking).
Day 5: In Which Our Heroes Have a Final Tour of London,the Hard Way.You know the drill by this point. On this morning though we were going to split up again and all meet back in Swansea at my Mother's house. My Son with go with Her, Smith and Nan in one car while Myself, Wife, Brother (Rob) and his girlfriend (Pip) went in another. We did not, at this point, actually have a car - it needed to be hired. Meanwhile Team B would be meeting with the parents of the Bride to take my son to
Hamleys - The world's largest toyshop.
Due to reasons I still don't completely understand we needed to go and pick Rob and Pip up from where they were staying in Putney once we got the car. According to the directions this was an 18 minute drive from the rental place in Heathrow. The directions were wrong, in every important respect.
Once we got the car (a very respectable VW Polo, rather than the BMW they kept trying to convince us we wanted) we hit the road - and ended up on the M25. This is nice, but we needed to be on the M4. Turns out the directions omitted a vital turn early on - things did not improve in the hours that followed. Yes, I said hours - our 18 minute drive to Putney took 4 hours in all. The directions got us hopelessly lost in 30 minutes and then the following 3 and a half hours were spent in phone contact with Rob and Pip (who had the map) unraveling the mess, while driving through some of the busiest parts of London, sometimes repeatedly. I don't drive in the UK, my wife does - I have to say she displayed some serious superpowers that day by managing to not get a single scratch on the car in a strange and ludicrously busy city in the wrong country on the wrong side of the road and the wrong side of a strange car while I fumed and raged beside her. She lost her London cherry the hard way. The sole good thing that happened during this spell was that I finally got to see BBC Television Centre as it whizzed past the window. If you know London at all you'll know that White City is rather a long way from Putney - this may explain the 4 hour problem.
After finally picking up "the kids" we then had to get back on the M4 in order to get to Wales. Thankfully this time I had a map (on Pip's laptop) and it took us all of 15 minutes to get to where we should have begun the journey in the first place. None of this would have happened if we'd had an A-Z, but we lent ours to our dental Hygienist years ago and she never gave it back. Not making that mistake again.
We finally made it back to Swansea at about 8:30PM all very worked up. This would have been fine, except we had to unpack, re-pack and get up again at 4 in the morning in order to catch another plane. Yes, it was that sort of trip. I fell asleep on the couch.
Day 6: In Which Our Heroes Run The Bristol Gauntlet (and Win).Up at the crack of dawn and in the car before 5AM we were on the road again, this time heading for Spain. Just one problem, we'd miscalculated and were running late, could we possibly reach the airport in time? My Wife was again driving, With Me, Ma, Smith and my Son as passengers, hauling it through foul weather back the way we'd come the day before as the plane was leaving from Bristol Airport. A very tense 90 minute drive as every time we got headway and thought we were going to make it a spanner was thrown into the works and we lost a bit of time. The plane had it's final boarding at 6:50, and we arrived at the airport carpark at 6:30. 20 minutes to make it to the terminal, ger My Wife and Son's Boarding Passes stamped (because they're American), check the Booster Seat and make it through security to the gate.
We hauled arse, and ultimately forgot to check the booster seat (that seat's forever causing problems) and finally arrived at the gate at 6:49. But I was still holding the seat and we'd paid for it to be taken. While the staff at the gate ummed and awed (apparently they don't do Gateside checking as they do in the US - at least this airline didn't) my Mother turns around and says "I've lost my tooth!" showing us the black rectangle where the tooth should be. Given what we'd been through my brain rejected this reality and substituted a far better one - one where she'd stuck a black piece of card in there as a joke, and I have to admit I lost it. While the staff argued, my wife fumed, my son fidgeted and my Mother looked forlorn I just stood at the gate and laughed almost until I cried. So funny did I find it that the next day, fully 30 hours after the event I was still spontaneously bursting into laugher at the whole thing (by that time I knew of course that she had in fact lost her tooth for real, but I was still laughing over the perceived joke she'd played).
we made it onto the plane, Booster and all (but sans tooth) and ended up taking the very last few available seats. Some of the crew gave up their seats so my Wife could sit next to my Son, but I was forced elsewhere; with a group of mid-teen girls on their way to a volleyball tournament. There are worse people you could fly with.
On arriving in Girona, Spain things settled down a bit. Smith drove for the time in Spain, and the drive from Girona to Empuriabrava was positively sedate. This was in the north of Spain, close to the French border, and the landscape is quite breathtaking. The weather didn't hurt either, after the fug of London. We were going to visit my grandfather (Bampa) who hadn't made it to the UK for the wedding; partly due to ill health, and partly due to the lack of an invitation (long story - yes, longer than this post).
The rest of the Day got us checked into our Hotel and generally chilling out over food and wine. The one thing of real note was lunch, which was Italian, Spanish style. I ordered the beef starter and thought I had received ham until someone informed me that the beef was served raw. Ate it anyway, very tasty.
The host had an epic Toupée
Day 7: A Lesson in SurrealismThe next day was a pretty relaxing one, with the morning spent doing nothing much but visiting the beach and strolling along the shopping promenade until it was time to meet with my Grandfather and his Girlfriend for lunch. This was at a small village outside Empuriabrava called Fortia. I forget the name of the restaurant, but the food was good and the restaurant beautiful with high vaulted ceilings and exposed stonework. We also met my Grandfather's Girlfriends Son (complicated, yes), who was really nice, albeit in a rush. We'd gone to the restaurant for Paella, and that's exactly what we got - so much of it that the three of us that wanted it couldn't finish it. Still managed to cram in dessert though.
Immediately after this we went to the Dalí Theatre and Museum up the road in Figueres while my Son went with Ma and Smith. Had a lovely time there, although the layout is almost as surreal as the artists work. I have to admit that the display of his early work made me feel a bit better - much of it was (in my opinion) awful, though of course he rapidly became one of the masters of 20th century art.
That evening The elders came around to the hotel again, bringing the Son with them along with two bottles of wine. Much chatting and drinking ensued and at the end of the night the wine bottles were empty. Since I was the only one drinking the white this meant I was drunk once more, all ready for yet more travelling in the morning.
Day 8: Where Things Begin to Settle Down Somewhat.Up at 6, in the car by 7 and back in the UK by 11AM. This time we planned it better and the trip was practically relaxing, with the sole caveat being that my Son, who wanted to sit next to "Gramma and Grampa", changed his mind immediately before takeoff resulting in tears until the fasten seatbelts sign went off and he could move to sit next to Mommy instead.
Back at Basecamp Taylor we spent a relaxing afternoon and evening recovering from the trip thus far. My Son started to make the enormous Lego set he'd had bought for him at Hamleys and we took a leasurely drive to the Supermarket for some Ginsters Slices (the food of the Gods - think Hot Pockets, but not crap).
Day 9: Blissful RelaxationMa and Smith took my Son out for the day to Singleton Park where he had a wonderful time on bouncy slides and Swan Pedalos (paddle boats). Meanwhile me and the wife took it easy and went to the supermarket for more awesome UK food and then went for a walk up memory lane (actually Molly's Lane, which goes right past my old School) and to the pub, because it's Wales and all good walks end up at the pub.
Later my Son finished his Lego Ninjago "Skull Crusher" kit and then I went up the pub with my best friend. Just him and me for most of the night - drunk again.
Day 10: The Open HouseMy Mother decided a good way to get all the visiting with relatives stuff out of the way (which usually takes a couple of days running around - not that we mind in the slightest) would be to invite everyone over on one day and then we could dedicate it to socializing.
No one came.We were sat in the house reading and doing bugger all pretty much all day. Turns out everyone was otherwise engaged that day and wanted to come the next. Bugger.
Made up for it by going up the pub with my Brother and getting drunk. Again.
Day 11: The Real Open House or Breakfast with The BeastWent out for breakfast with my Brother and Pip at the near legendary
Uplands Diner. Why is it legendary? Well, it's the home of The Beast - a breakfast of such ridiculous proportions that they let you have it free if you can finish it (plus you get your name on the wall). Since I was last there (which was never that I remember) they've had an "American Makeover" and to celebrate this they've introduced the even more insane "Mega Beast". Now, remember that British bacon and sausage tends to be larger than the American equivalent (one of the few things that can be said of) and check this out:
- 10 Bacon
- 5 Eggs
- 8 Sausages
- Chips (that's Fries to you Americans)
- 2 Hash browns (Like a McDonald's one)
- Bubble and Squeak (fried mashed potatoes with vegetables)
- Mushrooms
- Baked Beans (UK style)
- 2 Black Pudding (yes, it's cooked pigs blood, get over it)
- 4 pieces of toast
- 4 slices of bread and butter
- 4 pieces of fried bread
- 1 small burger
I did not partake in the Beast or Mega Beast - you can tell because I'm still breathing. I did have a very nice and very respectable full cooked Upland's Special though. It was delicious.
In the afternoon we actually did have an open house, with two sets of Aunts and Uncles, plus a friend of the family who had just got engaged and wanted to spread the news. There are terrible sketches of him and his fiancée on the drawn from life set - he's the big fella in the top row, she's below him and to the right.
Aunts and uncles brought many presents for my son - he was a very happy (and thoroughly spoiled) boy.
In the evening we were back into Swansea proper for dinner with my Brother and Pip. Met Pip's friend Becky who was due to set off around the world the very next day. Oh, and Dinner was delicious "cook it yourself" seafood.
Day 12: Everywhere is closed (or So it Seemed)Wanted to go to the local art gallery, which I love but haven't made it to for years. It's closed, for renovations, for 2 years. Bugger.
Wanted to go to Oystermouth Castle, which, it turns out, is also closed for renovations. This seems to be a recurring theme.
Ended up going for a walk around Oystermouth Castle, and then down to the
Mumbles seafront for icecream at
Joe's (another near legend, not to be confused with the San Fransisco one) before finding a park for my Son to play in. On the way back we saw a boat being launched, which was nice.
This replaced the original plan where we were going to meet up with my Mother for dinner because Nan, who was still feeling ill, was admitted to hospital with a heart rate of 150bpm. There are rave beats that are slower. By the time we realized she was in overnight it was too late to visit because my Son was flagging fast, so we took him home to bed instead - the visit would have to wait, assuming she was still in on Tuesday.
Day 13: In Which Our Heroes Storm Three CastlesShe was still in on Tuesday. However, due to general confusion and the hospital moving her around like a Chess Piece controlled by a mad Grand Master we decided to go with our original plans for the day and meet with
Rachel and
Stu for a morning at
Margam Park.
Other than winds strong enough to knock you off your feet, and the cafe being closed (of course), we had a really nice time. We got to see the inside of Margam Castle (actually a country house) which I've never been inside before as it was a burned ruin for most of my childhood. It's restoration is finally to the point where you can enter it - albeit only to see the main stairs.
The kids also had a great time in the two play parks in there. One of them features a giant child sized castle, complete with battlements and portcullis, while the other is entirely styled after a castle - though how many castles had blue rope bridges I really don't know.
Once we got back we visited with them while my Mother arrived to take my Son off to the cinema to see
Pirates: an Adventure with Scientists, from the people who brought you
Wallace and Grommit. Me and my Wife want to see it too, but we'll see it when it arrives in the State in the Fall, with a different name (because apparently Americans are too idiotic to think scientists can be interesting - not my words).
After visiting them it was time to visit (and say goodbye) to Nan at the hospital. She seemed in good spirits despite the discotheque heartbeat, and was very happy to see the boy, who turned up with Ma ready to go home to bed. He went to bed, I went up the pub, again, where I got drunk, once more.
Day 14: We Found a Museum, and it Was Open.Really, it was. We went to the National Waterfront Museum down in Swansea Marina. It wasn't just open, it was free. Hurrah. We spent some time there and were supposed to be meeting Ma for lunch, but a curfuffle over at the hospital meant she couldn't make it.
Back to her house and then my Wife was off out for High Tea at the Dragon Hotel (very swank) while me and the boy stayed home. My friend Terry came by to visit for a bit and my Son and his Daughter had a great time playing together (She's a fair bit older than he is - he just has this way with older girls I guess).
After that it was off to the pub for the pub quiz (and to get drunk one last time of course). We lost - pitifully. This breaks our 3 year winning streak (We've played every time we've visited the UK). In fairness we were rather distracted, what with it being our last night in town and all.
Day 15: Back on the road againNothing much to say really - The wife drove back to Heathrow after we packed and said our goodbyes. Once we'd checked in at the Hotel I had to go and buy cigarettes at the Tesco down the road - the prices in the UK are madness - no wonder everyone's quit or moved to rollies.
Anyway, on the way back a car passed me on the road going about 60 MPH over the speed limit. "I hope you get pulled you swine" I thought to myself, and sure enough I immediately heard a siren and a police van blasted past me going even faster than the car had. You don't see a Police van doing 100+ every day.
Back at the hotel and waiting for the lift (elevator) a looked at the couple next to me and realised that there as no way that girl would normally be seen dead with that guy. Either he was very rich (and he was in the wrong hotel if he was) or she was an escort. Never seen one (that I know of) in a hotel before, so that was a first.
Day 16: Back in the USAUp, drop off car, checkin, security, grab sundries, security again, on plane, off to Chicago.
Something I realised on this Trip is that I felt far more secure in Heathrow than I did in Chicago, despite the extreme security measures taken in the US. Conversely, making our way through Heathrow was a far more pleasurable experience all round, with all the staff being really very pleasant and almost apologetic that they had to put you through this lunacy (this including the SMG carrying policeman who stopped to say hi to my Son and the accompanying sniffer dog with handler). They even have a special security isle for people with children under 12, which is the greatest thing in the world when you actually have one. In Chicago we had to queue for 20 minutes to get through security and everyone seemed to want to shout a lot - welcome to America I guess.
It wasn't all doom and gloom on arrival though - the border guard who checked my passport and details was quite pleasant, and even cracked a smile when I said I was expecting a retinal scan next time. I think he was in the wrong airport...
And that was it - we flew uneventfully from Chicago to Bloomington and then drove home. My son made it three minutes into the car trip before falling so fast asleep that we couldn't rouse him when we got home. He had his PJ's put on him while he was out for the count.
Wow, you're still here? Well done! The next posts won't be anywhere near as long I assure you. Nor will they take so long to post. Until then, then...
