London with Elaine!

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I am woefully behind (as usual), but I have been putting bits and pieces of this post together since the end of April.  Back sometime in the early spring, my friend Elaine mentioned wanting to go back to London sometime for a girls’ trip.  It wasn’t a hint — she was just talking.  She didn’t expect that I, a mom of 2 with a busy schedule, would be willing to drop everything and go away for a weekend.  But I totally would.  So, excitedly, we (she) started planning (she handled all of the arrangements, my part was mostly to coordinate my proposed absence with Dan).  In the course of a single afternoon, mostly via Facebook message, we had coordinated, planned, and booked the tickets.  We were going to London!!!

Prior to April of this year, I had been away from the kids overnight exactly once (not counting when I went to the hospital to have Liam, which does not count as being “away from the kids”).  The first time I went away, I found it hard to be away from the kids, but I also really enjoyed myself, and I was game to try again.

Elaine truly handled all of the planning.  She asked for my advice and input, but she arranged everything — all of the reservations, the flight, the hotel, all of the scheduling.  That, alone, was like a vacation for me — I’d never before taken a vacation and had to think about so little!

As the day approached, I packed, I did tons of laundry, and I stressed.  Would everything be ok without me?  Would they all have enough clean socks?  Would Dan be totally overwhelmed?  Would I even enjoy myself in the face of all the worry over things at home?  As usual, I spent my first few hours unable to relax.  Between guilt over having left the kids, stress about catching the flight (this time, like almost always, unwarranted), and a constant feeling of having forgotten something important (where are the kids?!?!), I found it hard to initially embrace the whole “girls’ weekend” idea.  Thankfully, for both Elaine & I, I was pretty well adjusted by the time we landed.

Our first evening was pretty much taken up by a Tube ride to our lovely hotel in Kensington and a mad dash to find something tasty to eat before everything closed.  We found a yummy Indian place close to the hotel, had a quick dinner and called it a night.  We had a full parade of shopping and dining planned for the weekend — exactly the kind of stuff I struggle to get to do while traveling with the family, so I was really looking forward to it.  In addition, I was excited to keep up my good fitness habits by running while on vacation (something I generally skip, but I’m feeling a bit more dedicated these days, and not having to tend to anyone else’s needs first thing in the morning helped get me out the door).  So, the next morning I rose early and ran over to Kensington Gardens in the rain (which felt extra impressive).  I got a little lost, saw some swans, and felt very proud for having made a point of exercising.

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239Saturday’s plan was for shopping and eating, and we started with a ride on one of London’s ubiquitous red buses (top level, of course, for extra tourist points).  We visited Whole Foods, stopped by some clothing shops, and even saw the T.A.R.D.I.S. at Earl’s Court!  After that, we went and had a lovely (and very fancy) tea at The Connaught, where everything was delightful!  We shopped at Selfridge’s, walked through Soho and Covent Garden, and shopped a little more!  Then we finished our day with tasty cheeseburgers and milkshakes — both of which are surprisingly hard to find (made properly) in Vienna.

I started the next day with another run to Kensington Gardens (and since I didn’t get lost this time, I had more time to actually ENJOY the gardens).  We then went and had fantastic Dim Sum (along with Chrysanthemum tea, which I had never had before), shopped at Hamley’s, and took another self-created impromptu bus tour of central London.  We had time for a bit more 268shopping, and finally some really yummy Eggs Benedict (which Elaine and I have bonded over) at a restaurant where the waiters aren’t allowed to take pictures (in case they might accidentally capture someone who would prefer their photo not be taken!).  We also decided to sample a few macaroons, which were even better than they looked!

Our time was quickly winding down, so we hurried back to the hotel to collect our things and head to the airport.  It was a wonderful, whirlwind weekend, and I’m amazed at how much we fit in.  I was also so pleasantly surprised to find that Elaine is not only a dear friend, but also that we are remarkably compatible travel companions.  We had a busy, full, grown up, girlfriend trip, and I came back refreshed, reenergized, and ready to get right back into things.  I missed my boys, of course, but I also felt truly grateful to have had
some time to remember how it feels to be the part of ME that is separate from being a mom — the part who likes spicy Indian food, clothes shopping (including actually trying things on before I buy them) and having conversations that don’t involve being interrupted every 8 seconds.  It was a definite success, and I’m so very glad we went.

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Closing the loop

I’m picking up again on the missing pieces of last year’s summer vacation (my goal is to finish these stories before this year’s summer vacation … which is in 2 1/2 weeks, so I wouldn’t count on it).  The next major part of our trip was our time in Ireland (including one of my favorite days ever in my life so far), but there are two little pieces of the trip in England that I’ve missed, so I’ll share them here.  (Looking back, I realize that there are actually LOTS of little pieces that I missed — the day we spent in England getting lost on purpose, dipping our feet in a lake and wandering through an unfenced field of free range sheep; the sheer entertainment of literally not being able to understand anything a native Glasgowian said at full speed; the pleasant afternoon we spent wandering around Fort William in Scotland and shopping for Scottish shortbread.  I’m sure there are more.  I’m a little horrified at how many little moments never made it to the blog, and which now probably won’t because I’m already struggling to catch up on this trip . . . 10 months after we took it.  I think I’m going to have to rethink this idea of not blogging on vacation.)

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I don’t know how I missed writing about these particular moments.  (Chronologically, this piece goes between here and here, more or less.)  Our first time in the Lake District, we had an unfortunately early end to a drive we were taking when we got a flat tire.  We’d been in the process of driving a long loop through parts of the less crowded 20140528-154917-56957688.jpgnorth and west of the Lake District (the route came from Rick Steves’ UK guidebook).  I really wanted to continue and finish the tour, since we’d loved the first part (pre-flat) so much.  The landscape was just beautiful, and we’d had great fun making an impromptu stop along a lake.  So on this second trip, we bravely set off again.  This time, instead of stopping for a wade in a lake, we stopped for a quick hike at the top of the Newlands Pass.  We worked our way up the narrow track until it became too muddy and slippery, and we had to turn back.  The boys were impressively enthusiastic about it, though — I think they would have climbed to the top of the waterfall if we’d let them!  We continued our drive around the loop, passing (with crossed fingers) the scene of our flat tire last time, and found ourselves a little place to stop for lunch, with a yard full of toys for the kids.  It was one of the few times I can ever think of that we’ve been able to sit outside in the shade and enjoy a meal while the kids played mostly independently.  The boys stopped by every so often for a quick bite of a sandwich, and then were off again to play some more.

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After lunch, we diverted from the path to try and find a river swimming/wading/splashing spot recommended by our innkeepers.  We did find it, eventually, after driving down a muddy and rutted path that may not have been intended for cars and which was well marked with “no trespassing” (the problem was that once we started down, there was nothing to do but continue), and at whose end Benjamin refused to leave the car (Liam and Dan did enjoy a bit of splashing time, though).  After that, though, we were all very worn out, so rather than finish the loop, we returned by the direct route to the inn for a nap, some tea, and a walk to feed the resident donkeys (which ended in a sprint home to beat the impending rain storm).

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If at all possible, though, I really wanted to finish the loop, because we’d so enjoyed all the pieces we’d explored so far.  But, we were fast running out of time in England.  On our last full day in England before we drove north to Scotland, it was rainy and chilly and kind of dreary.  In the morning, we’d been to the Castlerigg Stone Circle (so, chronologically, this bit should go between here and here).  But it was still early in the day and we wanted to explore a bit more.  So, we drove out and again picked up the loop roughly where we had left off, and continued our exploration.  We took a side trip up the “hill” (they have impressive hills in this part of the world) away from the lake.  It was a steep and narrow journey which first brought us to a tiny stone bridge over a roaring creek and then, suddenly, around a corner to an amazing view of the lake (Derwent Water) below.  That vista alone was well worth the journey.

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We continued on to the surprisingly remote and tiny town of Watendlath, high up in the hills, but with a lake of its own.  After our journey up into the hills and then back down to the lakeside, we did, finally, finish the loop we’d been working on over two summers. We finally finished the whole “hour-long” drive.  It only took us a year.

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The end of the weekend

Even though I had an absolutely amazing weekend exploring London and generally being a geeky fangirl, I was excited enough to get home to my guys to not mind getting up at 4 a.m. (Not too much, anyway).

I had a great time on the girls’ weekend.  I was shocked at how long it took me to unwind, to turn off the ultra-aware, persistently vigilant Mommy brain and remember how to just relax and enjoy myself.  I think this time away was overdue.  I think it’s something I could use to do more often than once every 5 years.

And we couldn’t have picked a better spot for it.  I love London.  I would live there.  I don’t feel that way about very many places, but I would absolutely live there (and probably spend way too much going to the “theatre” at every opportunity).

The morning of my departure, it was far too early for me to contemplate things like trains, so I opted for the vastly easier (but much more expensive) option of a cab.  I had a nice chat with the driver on our way out to Heathrow — he’s the dad to one daughter, now all grown up, and insisted that mom having a weekend away from dad and the kids truly is good for everyone.

Heathrow is intense, even at 5 in the morning.  Coming up to the airport, I was surprised to already see the line of plane lights in the sky, stretching off into the distance.  (What time do those flights depart wherever they’re coming from?!?)  I was also please to see how efficient Heathrow was — I was able to check myself in, print my own luggage tags and easily make my way to the gate (where, as a slightly odd security measure, I had to show my passport again to enter the gate area) to wait for my flight home.

I had a pleasant and comfortable flight home (British Airways is as good as Air France was on our recent trip home) and I spent part of the time contemplating people.

I think people are great.  I love how we help each other.  How we’re basically kind.  The cabbie, the check-in people, the other assorted staff at the airport.  No one has to be nice to each other, but most people generally are.  I love how we build and invent things, like air planes, like London.  I love how creative human beings are — theater, movies, storytelling.  It’s amazing what we do and who we are.  I love people.

And, on that note, it was time to return home to the people I love very most of all.

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Taking the Harry Potter tour

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Just in case out first day in London wasn’t touristy (and geeky) enough, we followed it up with a trip out of London to take the Making of Harry Potter tour where they demonstrate, in great detail, a tremendous amount of what went into making the Harry 499Potter movies.  As huge Harry Potter fans, it was an excellent choice for Pam & I (although I admit I felt a bit sheepish for choosing a movie set tour over the many more significant cultural opportunities London offers . . . but not enough to change our plans).  But, we also did expect to be able to fit in some kind of sightseeing in the evening — although the tour is over an hour outside of London, we planned to be back in town by late afternoon.

When I was planning the trip, I debated the best way to get out to the tour site (at Leavesden) and back.  The train was the economical choice, but would have required 2 Tube lines, a transfer to an overground train and then catching a shuttle bus, and with all of that, ensuring we’d make it out there by our 11:00 tour time.  The direct bus from central London, though much more expensive and equally time consuming, had the attraction of being stress and effort free — all we had to do was show up on time, and someone else would take care of getting us there.  In the end, I opted for the bus, and 263after my frustrating experience with the trains between Gatwick Airport and London, I’m glad I did — I think the train would have been fine, but I’d learned we couldn’t necessarily count on it being punctual enough.

The bus was as easy as we’d imagined, and the tour company booked us on a return trip just over 3 hours after the start time of our tour, which confirmed our expectation of being back in London well ahead of evening.

We actually arrived a fair bit before our tour time, so we made the logical first stop — the gift shop — where we went a little crazy.  Very cleverly, the coat check was happy to hold all of our purchases for free while we were on the tour, so we were able to shop without worrying about the volume!  (So many cool things … )

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After our excessive shopping, we got in line and started the self-guided tour.  There was so much to see — original sets (the Great Hall, the cupboard under the stairs, the boys’ dormitory, several classrooms and offices, the Gryffindor common room, the Burrow, 482Hagrid’s Hut), original costumes, and so very many props.  There were videos explaining myriad details of movie magic (I was truly shocked by the vast number of things I had assumed were CGI effects that were actually practical, mechanical special effects — like the dishes that washed themselves!) and others detailing everything from casting to animal training to making snow.  We saw the Knight Bus, tried Butterbeer, explored Diagon Alley and stood transfixed, staring at *the* model of Hogwarts, it all its intricate and impeccable glory (the pictures do not do it justice).  Not only was it truly magical to get to see so many pieces of the Harry Potter world up close, but I’m amazed at how much I learned, as well.

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It took us a long time to wander through (and, though we didn’t rush, I think we could have taken even longer).  I have no idea how anyone manages the tour in 3 hours.  It took us over 5.

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We had, by then, of course missed our bus, but we simply took a later one, and made our way, tired but very satisfied, back to London.  It was an excellent way to spend a day — in fact, I’d happily go back again one day.

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On with the show!

For literally the first time in 5 1/2 years, last Saturday I had a true opportunity to sleep in.  I was in London, on my own, with no obligations and a schedule that didn’t kick in until around lunchtime.  But, of course, I DIDN’T sleep in … because I was on my own, with no obligations and a schedule that didn’t kick in until around lunchtime … and I had all of London to enjoy.

After getting up and surprising myself with how little time it required to get just myself ready and out the door, I got some breakfast and some coffee, and reintroduced myself to London’s Tube system, meeting several helpful Londoners along the way.  Navigating the Tube was much easier than I remembered (i.e., without a stroller), and I easily made my way to the first of the stops on my to-do list for the weekend — Sherlock’s house.

(It’s probably worth mentioning that I really like TV, and I’m not ashamed to admit it.  Most of my favorite TV comes from Britain, so there was more than one piece of this grand adventure that was initially inspired by British television.  More on that later.)

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My destination was, in particular, the place where they film the exterior of Sherlock’s residence in the current BBC incarnation of the story (not at the iconic 221B Baker Street, but instead nearby on Gower Street).  I wanted to see it in person after having watched it so many times on screen.  It was fun to be there.  It didn’t look quite the same (of course) and I got another visiting fan — a young woman who was so excited to be there that she said she thought she might cry — to take my picture.  Neat!  And then, it was back to Westminster for more typical touristy stuff.

060My next stop was to fulfill Benjamin’s request for some pictures with his own camera (which I brought along just for that) — primarily he wanted pictures of Big Ben.  I managed to get a few, plus some with my phone, and even managed a doubly impressive Big-Ben-and-red-double-decker-bus-in-the-same-picture shot.  If I was going to go away to London for the weekend, it was really the least I could do.

Shortly after my Benjamin-inspired photo shoot, Pam arrived and we set out together to explore the city.  We wandered to and through Parliament Square, and then over the Thames to the South Bank for a stroll.  We walked for quite a ways, along the South Bank and back across the river, through 045Trafalgar Square and over to Buckingham Palace, and then back through St. James’ Park (where we saw some very unseasonable looking Cherry Blossoms).  It was great fun to explore London with an old friend (Pam and I have known each other since we were 10 and 11, respectively).  It was amazing to me how much ground we were able to cover and how many hours we were able to walk — I’m used to my walking excursions being severely limited by the energy and patience of a 5 year old (while Liam, on the other hand, pretty much never tires of walking, but hiking is more to his liking).  After years of European exploration with the kids, I’m completely unused to a grown up sightseeing schedule.

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And then, in the evening, it was time to prepare for one of the main events of the weekend (and one of the initial motivations for the whole trip) — seeing Richard II at the Barbican Theater.  I’ll admit that my initial interest in the show came from having a bit of an embarrassing crush on its star (who I first watched on British TV), but even if my inspiration for going to see the play might have been a little silly, the experience of seeing it was decidedly not.

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To needlessly state the obvious, seeing Shakespeare done by the Royal Shakespeare Company in London is incredibly special.  I don’t think anything can emotionally manipulate an audience like Shakespeare brought to life by talented, experienced artists.  Everything from the sets to the lighting to the music was just perfect, and the level of skill displayed by every single one of the actors was impressive even to my ignorant eye.  I am so grateful to have had that experience.  It was a night to remember, and I will take any future opportunity to experience anything like it.  I’ve been completely won over.

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It was a great day.  I missed my family, but my desire to be with them didn’t ruin my time (nor did it inspire me to try to fly home early).  As Pam and I opted for an early night rather than going out after the show, it occurred to me that my concept of a good “girls’ weekend” has certainly changed a lot in the past decade, but I wouldn’t have changed a single thing about this day.

Girls’ weekend begins . . .

I actually thought I might vomit before I could leave the house last Friday.  Part of it was anxiety about the trip — I tend to worry much more than is called for over missing buses, planes and trains.  Part of it was being uncomfortable with traveling alone — as much as I’m a well-seasoned European traveller (this would be my third time to London), I’ve only travelled a very little bit on my own.  But most of it was worry, stress and sadness at the thought of leaving my boys for just over 65 hours.  I’m just not used to it.

It was my first trip away from Liam, and my first trip away from anyone since we’ve been in Austria.  I’m actually a little grateful for my over-anxiousness about missing my flight.  Without it, I might not have overcome the paralysis I was feeling about actually going.  Eventually, my stress over missing my flight overwhelmed my stress about leaving the kids, so I was able to actually go.

Within the first half hour I was away (I hadn’t even caught the bus to the airport yet) I was stunned.  I had so much downtime.  What was I supposed to do with myself?  For most of the trip to the airport, I just sat and looked out of the window.  I have lost all of my habits for idle time — most of the time I’m with the kids or attending to something pressing, and in the few moments I actually have “free”, there’s always at least SOMETHING that needs my attention (outlining my next blog post, sending cute pictures of the kids to my family, making a grocery list, planning our next outing).  I had nothing that I had to do.  No errands to run, nothing that needed my attention, no endless questions to answer, no one to keep entertained, no one to shush or calm down or keep safe.  It was really weird.  I had no one to talk to and lots of time on my own.  I truly did not know what to do with myself (and I’d been out of the house for less than an hour).

I adjusted.  It took a while to even think of reading, watching a movie on my phone, or listening to music.  Once I was able to get used to actually being able to focus on something for leisure, it was really pleasant (but still, there was no place I would rather have been right at that moment than home getting ready for movie night with my family).  The flight was great, and eventually I stopped jumping to attention every time a child on the plane would cry.  It actually became pretty pleasant to snap out of my focus on my book only to remember that my kids were at home and I could go right back to reading — a little like waking up before the alarm in the morning and getting to enjoy snuggling back into bed for a while.

On my own, I had a lot more time for random thought, too.  Standing in the forever-long “all other passports” UK Border line, I contemplated what passport control must be like for moderately famous people.  I imagine they have to wait in the same line as everyone else (unless they’re SUPER famous and this disruptive to the process, then maybe there’s some other provision), which must be awful.  I figure they’d get bothered, asked for autographs or whatever, but there would be nothing they could do to get away!  That must be even worse than just waiting through the line as a regular person, which isn’t any fun, either.  (This is what happens to my mind when I don’t have kids to entertain, apparently.)  Also, I spent a little time contemplating how/why people can’t tell where I’m from.  I had a British person think I was British (after talking to me?!?) on the plane and a woman in the Customs line came up and spoke to me in an impressive stream of Russian — then, after seeing my confusion, apologized in fluent English, saying she thought I was Russian, too.

It was odd to be on my own — not just being an off-duty mom, but being completely solo on my journey.  It was strange to not have anyone to coordinate with.  When my train from the airport was delayed by an hour and a half, I didn’t have anyone to hash out an alternate plan with, nor to pass the time with.  And when I finally made it to Victoria Station after midnight, there was no one with whom to debate the various merits of taking a cab or the subway, so I got to decide on my own.  (After midnight, raining, with luggage and not 100% sure where I was going — I opted for a cab, and I think it was the best £10 I spent the whole trip.)

I made it, all on my own, from Vienna to London.  I managed to remember how to read a book on a plane, hail a cab and watch TV in a hotel room (that wasn’t a cartoon).  The trip was going great already, and the really fun stuff hadn’t even started yet!

Girls’ weekend in London

I interrupt my heartfelt reminiscing about our Christmas at home … with a trip to London!  This evening I’ll be flying over to meet a friend for a girls’ weekend.  We’re going to see a show, take in as many sights as we can, do the Harry Potter tour and probably have a pint in an actual pub (though Pam will probably opt for a glass of wine).

It is my very first time doing anything like this since I’ve been a mom.  It will be the first time I’ve ever spent the night away from Liam, and the first time I’ve ever been away from either of them overnight just for fun (I came to Vienna from the US for a weekend before we decided to move here — before Liam was born — and was away from B overnight when Liam was born).  So this is really strange for me.

I’m half thrilled and half anxious.  I’m struggling to comprehend traveling on my own and am already feeling how much I’m going to miss my boys.  I can’t wait to see my good friend and explore an exciting city together and I’m hoping the boys have so much fun having their guys’ weekend with Dan that they barely notice I’m gone.  This all feels very grown up and sophisticated.  There’s really no way to say, “I’m meeting a girlfriend in London for the weekend” without sounding very fancy.  But I don’t *feel* more grown up or fancier than usual, so it does seem a bit strange.

It’s a little weird to me that I’m going so far away for my first weekend away.  But I think that’s because it’s an international flight — really, though, it’s only a 2 1/2 hour trip.  I’m not actually going that far.  In a way, it’s probably good that there’s a plane ride between me and my boys — it will help to discourage any middle of the night urges to just go home (though I do expect that the desire will still surface).

The boys keep asking who is coming to stay with them.  We keep reassuring them that Dan will be here the whole time.  At first, I thought they were confused (why would Mommy go and Daddy stay?) but I got the impression today at lunch that they understand just fine that it’s only me who is going — they just want to know who ELSE is coming to take care of them.  They keep asking if our downstairs neighbor (our regular babysitter) is coming over to take care of them (which came from a conversation where Dan & I were discussing that she’s offered to be “on call” in case he needs help at any point).  They just can’t seem to quite accept that it’s going to be JUST them and Daddy this weekend.  (That’s ok — I’m not sure I can quite accept it either!)

So off I go to live it up for 62 hours in London.  I’m sure we’re going to have a great time and make some fantastic memories.  I guess it’s the consequence of being a mom, but some of the things I’m looking forward to the most are some of the simplest — sleeping all night (maybe even sleeping past 7:00 in the morning!) and being able to choose restaurants based on what I want to eat.  That, plus spending time with a good friend, should make it an excellent weekend.  (It remains to be seen whether I’ll be able to relax, or if I’ll spend the majority of the time worrying about what’s happening at home!)

Richard II

004Last Wednesday evening, Dan and I had a date night:  we went to see a play that was being performed live in England.  Luckily, we only had to go two U-Bahn stops to see it.  The Royal Shakespeare Company’s production of Richard II was filmed and broadcast, live, into movie theaters all over the world, and luckily enough, one was in Vienna.

I could claim purely cultured and scholarly interest motivated our desire to see the play, but truthfully, I have a massive crush on the lead actor, and Dan has likewise been a fan since first seeing him play Doctor Who a few years ago.  But although we may mostly have been motivated by general geekiness, we truly loved the experience (and did feel a bit more cultured as a result of having seen it).

It was amazing to see a performance like that, by such amazing actors.  Shakespeare is always impressive (done properly) but it can be hard to always get the whole understanding by just reading it.  Seeing it performed, by talented actors, run by experienced and well versed people, made it so easy to understand and become absorbed by.  It was captivating and moving, and thoroughly enjoyable.  What a treat to get to experience that, all the way from England, while here in Vienna.

I can only imagine, then, what a treat it will be to see it live!  In January, I’ll be traveling to London to see the show in person, along with one of my very best friends (but without Dan and the kids).  It will be my first “girls’ weekend” in a very, VERY long time, and I’m looking forward to it so much.  It also feels very grown up and sophisticated to being flying to London for the weekend to meet a girlfriend.  (Who does that?!?  Apparently, I do!)  I’m really looking forward to it (and I’m sure it will be fun to see the play again, too)!

R’s house

Although I’m an introvert, I like to talk to people.  It’s fun getting to know new people, hearing their stories, finding out what life is like for them.  It’s one of the things I’ve enjoyed about all of our travels, and one of the (very many) things I’ve loved so much about visiting England, Scotland and Ireland — since I speak English, connecting with the people we’ve met there has been the easiest and the most rewarding.  On our first trip, we met lots of new people, and this last time (back in July and August of this year), especially since we went back to some of the same places, we made some good friends.

Our single favorite place to stay has been Littletown Farm, where the food is amazing, the rooms are cozy, the scenery is stunning and the company is warm and charming.  Besides, one of the Beatrix Potter stories I grew up with was actually set at the farm.  (What’s not to love?)

Along with our wonderful hosts there, Rob and Sarah, are their children.  Their youngest, R (he’s not my child, so I’m not putting his name on the Internet!), is only a few months younger than Benjamin, and on our first visit, the two of them instantly bonded over a love of Lightning McQueen.  Ever since that first trip, Littletown has been known as “R’s house” in our family, and both of my boys would often ask when we were going back to “visit our friend R”.  (In fact, everyone we met on our entire trip to the UK who asked the boys what we were doing on our vacation was told that “we’re visiting our friends in England”.)

My boys were so happy to be reunited with their friend on this most recent trip.  Each morning, and after every meal, the constant question was, “Where’s R?”, and Benjamin explored all over the property seeking him out to play.  (I think R enjoyed it too — he apparently talked in his sleep about playing with Benjamin, too.)  B even got to explore some parts of the farm usually off-limits to guests, since he was escorted by R.

My boys loved playing with R.  They started asking about our next visit to R’s house before we got back to Austria.  I’m so happy to see my kids making new friends as we travel, too.  And I’m sure we’ll make it back to R’s house again.

Stone circle

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On neither of our trips to England so far have we made it down to Stonehenge (although it’s on the list, probably for the next trip).  I really want to go — I’m certain it’s very interesting, most likely even more impressive and intriguing in person than in the images I’ve seen, and I imagine it will be goosebump-inducing, on account of its mystique, at the very least.  Besides, it’s “just one of those places” that you want to see when you go to England.  (At least, I do.)

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236We found out that there was a stone circle — Castlerigg Stone Circle — in the Lake District, though, very close to where we were staying, and it seemed like an excellent place to check out on a rainy morning with some free time.  Although it lacks the renown of Stonehenge, it was fascinating, very old (one of the oldest stone circles in Britain and all of Europe, constructed around 3200 BC) and also quite beautiful, with misty views of the mountains and valleys of Cumbria in every direction.

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238We loved it.  It felt like an appropriate part of our British trip, and, from a practical perspective, it was a great place for the kids to run around a bit outside.  They liked it mainly because rocks are fun to climb on (although it may have been uncouth to do so — we did it anyway) and there were lots of great puddles to splash in.  The circle had a great ambiance and stunning views, and we were lucky to visit between your buses, so it wasn’t very crowded.  For whatever purpose the ancient inhabitants of the area constructed the circle, they certainly chose an excellent spot.  We went just on a whim, and I’m so glad we did.

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