Sick on vacation

We were on our way from the beautiful Lake Distrct up to Oban in Scotland when B announced he was feeling sick. We pulled over at the first opportunity, but it was too late — he threw up in the car, all over himself. (My poor guy.)

We pulled in to the parking lot of an inn to get us all cleaned up, but after that, we weren’t sure how to proceed. We’d only been on the road for about 15 minutes of a 4 hour drive. We didn’t want to torture B with a long car drive, but maybe it was just a one time thing — we didn’t know if wanted to radically alter our travel plans for a single vomiting incident.

So, we continued on. Twice, he said he was going to be sick, we pulled over, but nothing happened. The third time, he was right, and we decided to rewrite our plan for the day. We pulled over at the next exit and looked for a hotel.

We made it to Scotland (but just barely — we’re 20 miles over the border, in Lockerbie) and we still would have had 3 hours ahead of us to reach our goal. After checking in to our hotel, B continued to be sick, and he was pretty miserable. We think we made the right choice. It’s a bummer to have to pay for two hotels for one night, and it’s even more of a bummer to miss out on an exciting part of our trip — we’ve decided to bypass our western Scotland portion of our trip and just head to Edinburgh tomorrow (assuming we’re all feeling ok).

One of the kids who lives at the farm where we were just staying was sick last night, and he got better in about 12 hours, so we’re hopeful that B will follow the same course.

I know this is the right choice as a mom, but I still can’t help being wistful about the day we had planned (and our day tomorrow, which also has to change). Mostly, though, I just want B to feel better (and I hope Liam doesn’t get sick, too).

For tonight, we’ll keep sitting by our window and looking at Lockerbie (which mostly means watching the sheep and trains go by). We’re happy and cozy all together, and B is resting. It isn’t the vacation day I envisioned, but it’s got all the important parts.

A lovely vacation day

20120907-004511.jpgWe love the part of the Newlands Valley where we’re staying, but we wanted to see more of the Lake District, too, so we set out on an “hour-long” driving tour of the area. (I knew we’d stop a lot along the way, so I was figuring on closer to 4 hours, rather than 1.)

The route we were following passed just by the end of the lane to our hotel, which was convenient, and the first stop was at the same pass where we stopped the other evening on our way to dinner. (I got the driving tour from Rick Steves’ Great Britain book.) We stopped again at the pass to look around a bit, and while being buffeted by the strong winds, we also got our feet completely soaked. I don’t know if it was rain, runoff, or springs, but almost every inch of the mountain pass was squishy and wet. Very wet. Our ankles got wet 20120907-004707.jpgfrom sinking in to the spongy bracken. It was strange — with the elevation, the strong winds, and the fact that we hadn’t seen rain in days, I didn’t expect wet conditions at all. (I had rain boots in the car, and we didn’t even put them on.) We did get to see some spectacular views, though. And lots of sheep.

And then, with mushy socks, we drove down the other side of the pass to Buttermere. We continued on, past many sheep, and beyond our dinner destination from the other night, and found a place to stop and explore the shore of the lake.

20120907-004733.jpgWe parked the car and strolled down the woodland path to the lake. It had a gravelly shore, beautiful views, and a lot of tranquility. Dan showed the boys how to skip stones on the water while I sat and took tons of pictures. We sat, and played, and relaxed, and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. The boys waded in until the water poured into their boots, and often we wouldn’t see another person pass by for 15 minutes or more. It was lovely.

20120907-004851.jpgEventually, though, the kids got cold, and we headed back to the car and the rest of our journey. We drove along the lake (more sheep!) and up and over Honister Pass (stopping to pick up lunch at England’s last functioning slate mine) which was gorgeous. We headed down through Borrowdale and we were looking for our next landmark when — pop — flat tire!

20120907-005134.jpgWe had no phone service, no Internet service, and our GPS couldn’t see enough satellites to plan a route. The kids were wet, tired and getting cranky. And . . . our rental didn’t come with a spare. So, we headed out again, very slowly, found a GPS signal and limped the 7 miles back to our bed & breakfast, past another beautiful lake. (Luckily, “limping home” and normal driving on these roads is almost indistinguishable.)

20120907-005246.jpgWe made it back, and started on working on getting another tire for the car. While we got it sorted out (over the phone with roadside assistance) we had tea and scones, and our wonderful hosts offered to give us a ride if we needed one. (As it turns out, someone is going to come out in the morning and fix it here.)

We had to cut our driving tour short, and our schedule was completely off for the day, but we put the kids down for naps, because they were really worn out. By the time they laid down, though, it was almost 6, and by the time they got up, it was 8 — and we still had to figure out dinner. Our hosts saved the day with ham sandwiches, and we sat and visited with the other guests in the lounge until much too late in the evening (and we got to hear a lot about how much everyone loves our accents).

It was a great adventure, some fun exploration, and a great day, flat tire and all.20120907-005331.jpg

20120907-005454.jpg

 

Hiking in the Newlands Valley

20120906-001358.jpgI’m pretty sure that we’re currently in the most beautiful place in the entire world. The valley is green, sheep dot the pastures and the bracken covered hills, the pastures are separated by hand-built stone walls (where they’re fenced at all), thick clusters of flowers overflow from hanging baskets and flower beds, roses twine up the sides of whitewashed houses and wooden old barns, and the steep hills above us look green or brown or red or purple depending on how the sunlight and clouds hit them. The sheep in this valley probably outnumber the people (tourists included) by at least 10 to 1. And everywhere there are public footpaths, wooden gates, stone bridges over rushing streams and trails that wind up to the ridges. It’s a place that is just begging to be explored.

20120906-001411.jpgOur goal for today was to hike around a bit. I’d done a little research and found a few likely paths, but mostly, I wanted to investigate right around our little hotel, so we asked the proprietor for a recommended route. He sent us on a 2 mile journey along the base of the big hill right behind our guest house. We borrowed a good off-road stroller and set off.

We went through a wooden gate and along a grassy track for a moment, and then turned the corner and headed straight uphill. The path was “paved” with stones and rocks, and it was pretty steep. We found sheep along both sides (some very close to where we walked) and were passed by several hikers (some going up, some coming down).

20120906-001442.jpgLiam wanted to walk every step of the way. B was happy to ride in the stroller, but Liam wanted to hike on his own. He got very upset when we tried to carry him. We climbed up, took breaks for rest and water, and he just kept on walking.

20120906-001528.jpgWe crossed a quick-moving stream with a tiny bridge (the bridge was much too narrow for the stroller, so I walked across). As we climbed, the path leveled out a bit and we were treated to an excellent view of the valley. But, as we went further, the track got muddier. Liam screamed and kicked every time we had to carry him over some squishy ground, and the stroller kept getting stuck. We finally decided to turn around.

20120906-001539.jpgI think we covered about half a mile before we turned around — it wasn’t quite the hike we’d envisioned. But it was fun, beautiful and completely worth the effort. I’m really glad we went. I’m glad the boys got to hike and explore and be (relatively) free for a bit. We had a great time.

20120906-001647.jpg

20120906-001724.jpg

Sheep, cows

We left outskirts of London behind today, and took a 4 hour drive (which took nearly 7 once we were done) north to the Lake District.

20120905-002904.jpgI loved the drive. Every new view was more lovely than the last, and almost every field and hill was dotted with sheep or cows. The further north we travelled, the hillier the landscape became, and the more widely spaced the towns.

By about halfway through our trip, I became convinced that the population density of sheep in this part of England must be higher than it is for people.

My favorite part was when we noticed sheep grazing on the median of the highway. We were wondering how they got them out there when we noticed the tunnel under the southbound lanes, allowing the sheep to be moved under the motorway!

Well, that WAS my favorite part, until we arrived in the Lake District.

20120905-002838.jpgAs we drove towards our small, very out of the way hotel, I kept gasping and staring at the landscape as it unfolded around us. The narrow, country lanes, the impossibly small stone bridges, the steep hills covered with distant, tiny sheep, and the rolling, green, mist-covered valleys are stunning, and unlike anything i’ve ever seen before. It’s beautiful, remote, and wild without being threatening. The towns are welcoming and full of history (we ate at an Inn which had existed since the 11th century).

20120905-002815.jpgLater, as we drove over the steep, narrow mountain pass, past waterfalls and herds of sheep roaming through and across the road in front of us, I decided that this is the most beautiful place I’ve ever been. I absolutely love it here.

And on to the countryside

We enjoyed our time in London. We saw a lot for the time we were there, we started to get used to the buses and how to get around town. (We preferred the buses to the underground trains — like Paris, much easier with the stroller.) We really liked our hotel and even got to meet a few people — B is at that age where, at the slightest provocation, he will share his life story with any random stranger (he’s cute and articulate, and people are completely charmed, so well make some new friends).

But the hustle and bustle of the big city was also pretty intense, and now we’re on to quieter things.

We left London by train this morning, and travelled out to Oxford, where we rented a car, and then, we were off — except not quite. First, Dan had to practice driving on the wrong side of the road, on terribly narrow streets. We drove for a good 15 minutes in the wrong direction only because he would only make left hand turns and/or follow the car in front of us. (I shouldn’t laugh, though — he managed something I wouldn’t have even attempted.) And then, once we were ready to go, we couldn’t get out of town — they were having some kind of fair that closed all of the streets in the direction we wanted to go. After a long while, we made our way out of town . . . finally.

20120903-235151.jpgOur next stop was the tiny town of Sherborne, to see the place where my mom attended school. That trip took us well off the beaten path, onto teeny back roads and through beautiful, picturesque countryside. The building itself is now private property, and surrounded by enough “no trespassing” signs and video. cameras to keep us from exploring, but it was neat to go there anyway.

After that, our plan was to drive up through the Cotswolds, and maybe stop for tea. By the time we arrived in Stow on the Wold, though, B was sleeping, so Liam and I walked around for a bit while Dan sat with a sleeping Benjamin.

20120903-235244.jpgThen we drove up to Stratford upon Avon. By the time we got to the town, both boys were sleeping, and by the time we had checked in to the hotel, they were both completely fed up with the whole process. So, we rewrote the plan for the evening from strolling through another part of the Cotswolds to walking down to a park near here and running around for a while, followed by ice cream on the way home. We now have two very sleepy, very content, very worn out boys.

So far, this part of England is beautiful. (It reminds me very much of Middleburg in Virginia.) It is green and rolling, with fields full of cows and sheep, fenced in by stone or lovely post and rail fences. I love it. As much as I enjoyed it, I felt a giant sense of relief when we left London — I like the city, but I’m really a country girl.

Tomorrow, we have a long day in the car, followed by 2 peaceful days of staying in the same place. I’m hoping that tomorrow ends up being a restful day in the car — for all of us — and not a frazzled disaster.

Big Ben! Parliament!

We started off today (our second and final full day in London) with a trip to Buckingham Palace to see the changing of the guard. We arrived early — not early enough to get a great spot by the palace fence, but early enough to get a roadside spot on the Victoria Memorial across the square.

20120902-233012.jpgIt ended up being just perfect. We didn’t have to wait too long, and when the first set of guards came down the road, they passed right in front of us. We got to see their stern faces, their furry hats, and their excellent red coats (B’s favorite part, since that’s his favorite color). When the second set of guards came through, they marched directly towards us, and we got an excellent view of them, also.

We missed whatever happened behind the palace fence, but we stuck around to watch them march back out again, too.

The kids were incredibly patient with (and even interested in) the whole process, but when we left the palace to walk along St. James Park, B immediately spied a playground, and we gave them a chance to run and play a bit.

20120902-233052.jpgThe playground was very much like an Austrian one — with bricks, large rocks, and sharp edges. The boys had a great time playing “soldiers” (they were marching around like palace guards with some other kids who had been there), running, jumping, and being free.

After that, we had a quick lunch in the park (and an ice cream) and we walked along, enjoying a beautiful, tree-lined stroll, and ended up at Big Ben.

20120902-233212.jpgWalking in to Parliament Square was very cool. To be suddenly surrounded by so many iconic images of London — Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, Parliament — it was almost like suddenly visiting someplace mythical. My references for those places are mostly movies and tv, so it was odd and wonderful to see them in real life. It was also strange, too, because although I knew they were located close to each other, I didn’t realize HOW close. I loved seeing Big Ben, and I wish we’d had the chance to go into Westminster (whose facade looks so surprisingly like Notre Dame). It was all perfectly grand and elegant and wonderful.

But, we weren’t done yet! We trekked over to the Tower Bridge (which was also very lovely) before heading back for the day. We are worn out, but we had a great day. We all got to see and visit sights that made our stay in London just how we wanted it.

This is a strange trip, though — I can’t believe our time in London is nearly over. We usually stay longer wherever we go. But, tomorrow we’re off to the countryside, to see what that is like.

For the next time we’re in London, though, I’ve already started my list. I want to ride on the London Eye, take a bus tour, make faces at a Palace Guard and see the inside of Westminster Abbey — and that’s just the stuff I’ve thought of so far.

Tomorrow, on to the Cotswolds!

Late for the Hogwarts Express

What a day we spent in London! We were busy from start to finish today, and only a very little bit of our day ended up looking like our plan.

20120901-233421.jpgWe started by heading to King’s Cross Station. It is September 1, and we thought we might arrange to be there by 11:00 . . . just to see of the Hogwarts Express MIGHT be there. We actually managed to leave the hotel ahead of schedule, but after being confused by the trains and buses for a while, we were running late, so we jumped into one of the cute black London cabs (which are surprisingly roomy inside).

We still arrived at the station a few minutes behind schedule (oops), but judging by the huge number of Harry Potter fans milling about when we got there, the train must not have actually shown up. (There is a cute “Platform 9 3/4 sign with half of a luggage trolley sticking out.)

After checking out the station, we wandered across the street to look at the St. Pancras station, had some lunch, B played some ping pong and then played a piece of large, interactive, musical art, and then we boarded one of the red double decker city buses to head to our next destination: Hamleys, the biggest toy store in England.

20120901-233752.jpgRiding the buses was really fun. The view is pretty great, and, between driving down the wrong side of the road and being 8 feet or so in the air, the experience is a little surreal. B loved it. (I did too.)

20120901-233713.jpgWe stopped at the toy store to replace a toy car of Liam’s (which we lost yesterday in a freak plane boarding accident — it actually fell out of the plane, through the tiny space between the plane and the jetway, while we were getting on). The toy store itself was 7 floors worth of loud, crazy, packed toy pandemonium, but they also had a Lego Queen (Corgi included), a Lego royal family and a Lego palace guard. So cool.

We shopped, took a bunch of pictures, had some ice cream, and hopped back on the big red bus to go back to our hotel for a quick recharge before dinner.

20120901-233849.jpgLater, we grabbed some fish & chips for dinner and headed over to Buckingham Palace (the real one — no Legos) to finish out our busy first day.

It was a great day (although we had to look a surprising number of places before we could find diapers of the right size for either of the boys). London is big, busy and confusing, but we got where we needed to go, we are starting to figure things out, and we are having a great adventure.

London: so far, so good

Taking a trip to a new destination is always a gamble. Looking around for flights, hotels or other destinations on the internet is great, and really helpful, but you never know what it’s going to be like until you get there.

Flying to London today, we used an airline we’d never used before. We didn’t know much about our hotel — in fact, we’d never been to London before, so we really didn’t know what to expect.

So far, so good.

Our experience of flying EasyJet (the UK’s version of Southwest, complete with no assigned seats and additionally, serious baggage restrictions) was excellent. It was definitely a no frills flight (B was disappointed by the lack of snacks and tv), but we arrived safely. (B befriended a family in the ticket line who accompanied us throughout our flight, and were thoroughly charmed by him.)

As it turns out, we were the only Americans on our entire flight, and one of only two families from outside of Europe. It was very lonely in the “all other passports” line.

We took an expensive (but fast, and very posh) train from Gatwick into the city. The train terminal at Gatwick was sprawling and confusing, but we made it!

20120831-230857.jpgOur hotel, the Luna Simone, in the Belgrave area near Victoria, is nice, and clean, but kind of small (glad we don’t plan on using our room for much other than sleeping, showers and naps).

But, other than grabbing a quick bite down the block and ending our evening with a quick stroll (during which, both kids fell asleep), we don’t really know what London has in store for us. Getting here took a lot of energy, but our London adventure truly begins tomorrow.

Ready to go

We did it.  We’re all set.  Our bags are packed, we’re ready to go.  I can’t believe how quickly and easily this trip came together — this time last week, I had a sketched-out itinerary on a calendar and a couple of travel guidebooks and nothing else.  No plane tickets, no hotel reservations, no concrete idea of how long we’d stay in each place or how we’d get there.

Since then, the whole trip has come together beautifully — 17 days, 10 cities, 4 flights, 3 countries, 2 car rentals — and 0 meltdowns from me while planning.  I was able to fit in almost everything we wanted to do, found some beautiful places for us to stay and to visit (and even found a couple of good deals).  I’ve researched the best places to eat in each town we’re staying in, some nice scenic places to stop and stretch our legs during the long drives, and I know how to get from the airport to the hotel tomorrow, whether or not I have access to the internet when we land.  All of our stuff for the trip is packed into 2 small-ish suitcases and 3 small carry-ons (the airline we’re flying is very strict about baggage allowances — much more so than US carriers).  We have a mid-afternoon flight tomorrow, so we can finish up our packing in the morning AND take showers before we have to leave, and with a little luck, the kids will sleep for at least part of the short (2+ hour) flight.

This all seems a little TOO easy.

Really, though, I think we just have a lot of practice at this.  We travel all the time.  Liam has, on average, taken a transatlantic flight once for every four months he’s been alive.  I can pack our collective carry-ons in about 10 minutes.  The kids know what to expect (although B seems completely out of sorts about the fact that we’re flying in the afternoon and not first thing in the morning, which has been our norm from Vienna).  I’ve gotten really skilled at selecting clothes that are easily adjustable to different weather conditions, won’t show dirt too quickly and can be washed in a hotel sink and laid out to dry without being ruined.  (I also — very cleverly, I think — made sure that the hotel at our halfway point of the trip has a washing machine, so we only packed 1 week’s worth of clothes.)

I think, too, that I’m seeing the effect of having trained myself to not strive for perfection in the details of a trip like this.  We might forget something.  We might not have everything we need.  Our hotels might not be the nicest, or in the perfect location, or at the best price (but I tried to hit at least 2 out of those 3 each time).  We are probably going to wish we brought more of something or less of something or that we stayed longer in one place and skipped another altogether.  That’s almost certain to happen.  We’ve never been to the UK before, so how could we know exactly what it would be like in advance, anyway?  We’ll learn, we’ll do things differently next time.

But, most importantly, I am not so worn down by exhausting myself over every tiny detail of this trip that I don’t have the energy left to enjoy it.  I’m not stretched so thin that I’m going to snap at the kids or burst into tears when faced with the first frustration or the first bout of whining.

I’m sitting here, the night before we leave for a long trip that I planned in less than 5 days, and I’m doing great.  No stress, no worries.  My kids are sleeping.  My stuff is organized.  The plans have been made.  We’re ready to go.  This feels great.

Homeland

I’m a mutt.  In the US, everyone’s family is from somewhere else — with the exception of the Native Americans, you can only go back a few generations, and then they had to come from somewhere.  A lot of other people I know can say with great confidence what their heritage is.  They can state what percentage of their family comes from which country, and sometimes, even where they came from before that.  I don’t really have that.

Judging by the fairness of my skin, I can pretty well assume my family is European on both sides, but other than that, I’m more uncertain than not where we’re all from.  My father’s grandfather actually published genealogies for other people, but, as far as I know, never did his own.  We think there’s some Irish and German blood in there, but in high school, when I tried to trace the family back to Europe, I came up empty handed.

On my Mom’s side, my grandfather was English and Irish, but even what we know is pretty vague, and where my Dad’s family suffers from an incredibly rare, but probably somewhat “lost in translation” last name, my Mom’s father had an incredibly common last name, making his family a little hard to trace as well.

My Mom’s mom, my grandmother, is easy, though.  She was from Ireland — Belfast, in Northern Ireland.  She was born there, she grew up there, she lived there until she met and married my grandfather and came to the US.  She was always very Irish — she strongly identified herself with her country of birth, and we all did, too (all of her many, many grandchildren).

That’s one of the reasons that I’m so excited about this upcoming trip to the UK.  We’re going to visit her hometown, to see the street where she lived.  It’s the strongest connection I have to my ancestors and my heritage.  Of all of my grandparents, she was also the one I was closest to, and I have very fond memories of her stories about growing up in Ireland.  I can’t wait to see the place the she came from.

I’ve never been to Ireland, but it feels like going home.