Food, Part I

There's a lot to say about the food here, and most of it is good.  We have been pleasantly surprised to have almost all excellent meals when we have eaten out and none that were horrible.  Last weekend, we ate at the closest pub to our house, the Belvedere Arms.  We had been told by two different people that it was "decent", so we didn't have high expectations.  Erik oohed and aahed over his pork loin, and I had a delicous salad of heirloom tomatoes and mozzarella with some bitter greens, plus a homemade pasta (that's past-uh) with spring vegetables that were perfectly blanched or steamed and definitely not boiled.

The Belvedere Arms

Enjoying my salad and a pint

We finished up with a delicious sticky toffee pudding.

Grocery shopping here has been very different from home.  First, everything is expensive.  Second, nothing has preservatives in it, which is good, but foods like bread and yogurt go bad quickly.  As a consequence, everything is sold in small quantities, meaning we can't really go shopping once a week for our week's groceries, as we do at home.  We squeeze in quick trips to the market 3-4 times a week to pick up what we need for the next couple of days.  

The produce always lists its country of origin, and for foods from Great Britain, the county is often listed as well.  I even saw some British strawberries that listed the farmer's name.

British strawberries from W. Sussex, UK

Look at these beautiful strawberries.  They are small and red all the way through, not like the monstrous, flavorless ones we get at the grocery store at home.

The other day, as we were walking through the produce aisle at a grocery store, the kids asked for some sweet corn that they saw.  The label indicated that the corn was imported from Senegal, and it cost 3 pounds for two shucked ears wrapped in plastic.  That's about $4.50, so it would have cost us $9 just for one ear of corn apiece.  I just couldn't do it.  So add sweet corn to the list of things will be missing from home this summer.

Instead of dwelling on what we miss from home, we've been trying to pick up a few new British foods every time we go to the market.  We've tried crumpets, scones, and white muffins (what we call English muffins at home but much fresher and softer).  The kids were also pleased to find that pre-made pancakes are sold in the bread aisle. We haven't found any maple syrup yet, so they have been eating them with butter and jam.  Erik and I are fond of the Cornish pasties, though the kids weren't big fans.  We learned that a true Cornish pasty includes swede (a.k.a. rutabaga), and it can't truly be called a Cornish pasty if swede is replaced with turnip.

Malcolm was excited to see Wensleydale cheese at one store.  He is a fan of Wallace and Gromit, and Wensleydale is Wallace's favorite cheese.  It turns out it's a salty, mild, hard cheese, similar to feta.

Our local grocery store, Waitrose, makes shopping for kitchen staples fun by packaging them in these fun containers.

I'm sure I'll have plenty more to say about food as the summer goes on.  We have yet to try real British shepherd's pie, bangers and mash, or bubble and squeak.

Windsor Castle

Two weeks into our time here, we decided we couldn't go any longer without getting local cell phones.  We were advised to turn off our US cell phones when we arrived in the UK, because the fees for using them abroad are exorbitant.  We put our iPhones on hiatus and decided to get some pay-as-you-go mobiles (pronunced moh-bye-ul).  There are bunches of phone stores in Windsor's shopping district, so off we went, bright and early, leaving plenty of time to visit Windsor Castle before we did our errand.

High Street in the town of Windsor

It was another gorgeous, warm, sunny day, so we slathered on the sunscreen and started walking.  The castle is built on the top of a hill (as most are), and we (well, mostly Erik) got a workout pushing 80 pounds-worth of kids in a double stroller up toward the castle's keep.  

Checking the map

While we're on the subject of our stroller, I should mention that it has been a huge hit in this country.  Starting with our arrival in Heathrow, people have commented on our Joovy Caboose sit-stand double stroller everywhere we go.  I kid you not, a man stopped me as we were trying to walk out of the airport, jetlagged and dazed, and asked where I had gotten the stroller.  He wrote down the name and "Amazon" on a piece of paper, as I tried to politely get out the door.  Just about every time we take the stroller out someone says something like, "That's quite a good buggy, isn't it?"  I've only seen one other double stroller in England, and it was a side-by-side double for twins.  At first I thought maybe they were just better about encouraging their little ones to walk longer distances, but they all seem so envious of the Caboose.  If I had a more entrepreneurial spirit, I think I could make some serious money at selling these here.  Thanks again, Dad and Bobby, for the baby gift that keeps on giving.

Back to Windsor Castle.  It was built by William the Conquerer in the 11th century, and it is the oldest royal residence in the British Isles that has been in continual use.  The castle is one of the queen's favorite homes, and we learned that she spends most of her weekends there.  The royal standard (her flag) was flying over the castle, so we knew she was home.  Soren still didn't manage to have an audience with her.

A statue of Queen Victoria welcomes visitors

The Queen is in.

We were all fascinated by the skinny openings in the stone walls for shooting arrows at attackers.  

From the outside

From the inside

They also make good seats.  Soren announced that he HATES photos, so this was the best I could do.

We were also fascinated by the moat, which has now been turned into a garden.  It reminded me of "The Curious Garden" by Peter Brown, a kids' book where a little boy grows a garden on an abandoned train track and it spreads all over the city.

The gate was locked, but we could look over the wall into the moat.

Garden in the moat

We squeezed in with throngs of people to see Queen Mary's dollhouse and the state apartments, which are full of oil paintings, suits of armor, treasures given by or plundered from various other countries, and ornate furniture.  Photos aren't allowed inside the castle, so you'll have to use your imagination.  The area where the queen actually lives is off-limits for visitors.  

This is where the queen lives.

Here's one last view of the castle on our way out.  

As we made our way back down the hill and out to the High Street, we could see a line of people waiting to get in that stretched around the block.  We had arrived about 20 minutes after the castle opened, so we were able to enter right away.  We are quickly learning that it pays to be early when sightseeing in England, before the buses full of tour groups and other masses of people arrive.  There is, apparently, one benefit to having two early-rising kids.  Sunrise these days is around 4:45 AM, so we are up and ready to go well before everything is open.  I can only imagine when they will wake up as we approach the summer solstice.

Pip pip! Cheerio!

Things are back on track.  Erik's leg is healing up nicely, and the weather has been gorgeous this week-- around 80 (F) and sunny.  We finally made the trip into London today to see some sights.  We took the train from Sunningdale to London's Waterloo Station.  It was a very pleasant 45-minute ride, and the kids loved riding the train.

Malcolm boarding the train

Sunningdale to Waterloo

Our "Frommer's London With Kids" guide lists the London Eye as the top London attraction for kids, so that was our first stop.  We waited in line for about an hour, during which time I began to have second thoughts about boarding a glass capsule to ride a giant ferris wheel for a half hour, seeing as I am terribly afraid of heights.  You only live once, so I decided to go for it.  If my preschoolers could do it, so could I.  The views were amazing, and we couldn't have asked for a clearer day.

The London Eye

Soren and Big Ben from near the top of the Eye

Looking down on the Thames

Me being a chicken and sitting as far away from the edge as possible.  The views were still amazing.

After we disembarked, we walked across the river to see Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament.  We hoped to stop into Westminster Abbey, just next door, but the lines were down the block.  We'll have to save that for another day.

Big Ben up close (this one's for Ms. Read's class!)

Westminster Abbey

We decided to head toward Buckingham Palace via St. James's Park, which is similar in feel to New York's Central Park.  Every person in London seemed to be sitting on the lawn, enjoying a picnic and soaking up some rare sunlight.  We enjoyed the exotic (to us) waterfowl and the floriferous shrubberies.  The gardens were beautiful, and it's the first time I've seen thistles intentionally planted in the landscaping.

 I am still awaiting my "Birds of Europe" from Amazon.co.uk, so I can't tell you what these are yet.

St. James's Park

We made our way to Buckingham Palace where they are in the midst of preparations for the Queen's Diamond Jubilee Celebration, in honor of her 60th year on the throne.  We were excited to see a bobby and the guards in red coats and bear skin hats marching back and forth in front of the palace.  As we were getting ready to leave, Soren said, "I would like to see the queen now."  He was very disappointed when I told him she wasn't available to see us today.  He said, "But I need to tell her pip pip, cheerio!"  Our fellow tourists got a kick out of that.

Buckingham Palace

Gate at the palace

Setting up for a concert for the Queen's Jubilee

We were low on energy after all that walking, so we decided to climb on a double-decker bus to take the long way back to the train station.  From the top level of the bus, we saw Piccadilly Circus, Hyde Park,  and Trafalgar Square.  There's so much to see, we'll definitely be making a lot of weekend trips into London.

Upper level, front row

A view from the bus.

Guest Blogger: Adventures with the NHS

Hi, this is Erik with a guest post to Kate's blog.  As those of you who read Kate's last post already know, our first week here turned out to be a little rockier than we expected.  Kate gave you the story - poison ivy on my knee that became infected.  Trip to the hospital, and instead of a bottle of antibiotics, I was admitted and spent the next five days and nights there receiving iv antibiotics every 6 hours.  The strange thing was that I never felt sick, never ran a fever, never had abnormal blood work - as far as I was informed anyway.  And yet, they kept me in the hospital anyway.

There are a few reasons for this, I think:  1) My knee really looked bad!  It was oozing all sorts of gunk, there was a big dark red patch that was warm to the touch, and the redness was slowly creeping up my leg.  Not really good signs, any of them.  2) On top of that, the antibiotics did not really seem to be making much of a difference.  Finally, after day three or four, the oozing subsided, but the leg was still red and hot (and still is today, by the way, although, not quite as hot as it was before) and 3) the hospital was still waiting on the results of the cultures they took on the day after I was admitted to determine what kind of bacteria they were dealing with and what kind of anti-biotics it was susceptible to.  4) After my first night there, I was moved to a post-surgical ward because they didn't have space in the "medic" ward, and while it was relatively nice and quiet there, it meant that I was somewhat off the beaten track for the doctors who needed to see me. The doctors would generally make their rounds once a day and in the first four days I was there, I never saw the same doctor twice. Being there over the weekend didn't help at all either.  I had to request to see a doctor on Saturday and I'm not sure that I even saw a doc on Sunday.  In the five days there, I think I saw a total of about 12 different doctors.  Only one of them made a repeat visit.  That was the guy who finally said I could go home on Monday evening with oral antibiotics.  5) They don't really know what poison ivy is here.  They just don't have it.  So, I think a lot of what they thought was a bacterial infection was just a really bad reaction to poison ivy, which I am still dealing with by the way.

Ok, so that is the medical saga.  On Monday, the one doctor who finally made a repeat visit and who looked at my normal blood work and followed up with the microbiology lab and found out that the reason it was taking so long to get a result there from the bacterial culture was because no bacteria were growing (probably because they didn't take the culture until I had already been on i.v. antibiotics for about 18 hours and they were doing there job.)

Now, for my take on the National Healthcare Service (NHS).  1) They are overworked and understaffed.  2) They don't have a whole lot of incentive to be responsive.  3) The patient has very little say in their course of treatment. 4) Sharing a room with 5 other people is a pain in the ass.  To be honest, most of them were not that bad, but the first night I was there, the guy next to me was snoring so loudly I couldn't hear myself think, much less try to sleep, and he was a drunk who came in to be detoxified and was getting sick every 30 minutes or so.  Up in the surgical ward, one of my ward-mates was on the road to dementia and was talking to everyone who was in the room like they were long lost friends or relatives.  "Phillip, is that you?  What are you doing way over there across the room? Phillip?"  He also did not like staying in his bed at night even though he couldn't stand up by himself, so every hour or so, the nurses would have to come running and try to keep him from getting up, or pick him up off the floor.

Suffice it to say, that I am very glad to be back at Apartment 4, Woodleigh Mansions, our home away from home here.  I can't even tell you how much I missed Kate and Malcolm and Soren while I was in the hospital.  A short visit each evening was not enough.  Thanks to all of you who sent well wishes by e-mail and who left comments on Kate's blog or on Facebook.  We're hoping that the next few months go much more smoothly than the first week.

Things never go according to plan, do they?

Since we learned that Erik had an opportunity to spend some time working in England this year, we have talked about all sorts of things we wanted to do and see in Europe.  We came up with a list of must-see places in the UK and a wish list of destinations in other European countries that we'd like to make it to if time allowed.  One place that did not make our list was Frimley Park Hospital, yet we have seen quite a bit of it this week.

Before I get anyone too worried, we are all ok.  But one of us has been better.  Before we left home, Erik got some poison ivy on his knee at a soccer game (back where it was warm enough to wear shorts).  Somehow during the week, the rash got infected.  On Wednesday night, Erik went to the emergency room, assuming they would give him some antibiotics and send him home.  Instead, they admitted him, started him on IV antibiotics, and he has been in the hospital ever since.  This is night four of Erik in the hospital, bored out of his mind,  and night four of me solo-parenting in a foreign country where I don't know a single soul outside of my immediate family.  Let's just say things could be a lot better.

Erik has cellulitis, a bacterial infection of the skin.  The doctors took samples of the bacteria in his leg and are culturing them out to see what kind of bacteria they are and which antibiotics they will respond to the best.  The doctor who visited today said she does think the antibiotics he is on now are working, but his leg still looks like a mess, and it isn't clearing up as quickly as we would like.  The good news is that he feels good, aside from an itchy, oozy leg.  I did take pictures, but I won't gross you out with the gory details.  Instead, here's a photo of the hospital.

Here's what we've learned from this experience so far.  

1) British hospitals are very different from American ones.  Rather than having a doctor assigned to his case, Erik sees a different doctor every day.  He is in a room with 6 beds (though currently only 4 patients) and no privacy.  You have to pay to use the TV or the telephone.  There is little information communicated, and everyone seems very busy all the time.  The food stinks.  Yesterday, Erik was served a ham and cream cheese sandwich on white bread with mayo.  Visiting hours on weekdays are from 6:30-8:30 PM only.  On the plus side, the ER was pretty drama-free, unlike the ER experiences we have had at home.

2) I don't like driving on the opposite side of the road-- AT ALL.  I can do it when I have to (to visit Erik at the hospital), but it's very stressful.  Every time we get in the car, I ask the kids, "What do we do when Mommy drives the car in England?"  They reply in unsion, "Be quiet!" They have been very good about keeping quiet as I try to navigate the tiny, narrow, winding streets and roundabouts with poor signage, probably because I'm talking to myself the whole time about where I'm going and whether or not I'm too close to the curb or the car in the next lane.  It's very disconcerting to sit on the wrong side of the car.

3) We should never take for granted the friends and family we have at home.  It's kind of rough trying to navigate a new country, deal with an unplanned hospital stay/health issue, and have no one to turn to for child care, moral support, or company.  I made a couple of very expensive phone calls yesterday to hear some friendly voices and get my dad's advice on Erik's treatment.  

Meanwhile, the kids and I are trying to get out on foot to see what's nearby.  Today we got a library card and borrowed some books and DVDs from the tiny Sunninghill Library.  A very nice lady who worked there told us about some kids activities nearby, including a zoo we hadn't heard about.  A couple of days ago, when the sun was shining, we ventured out to the local playground, which the kids loved.  Here are some pictures of that outing.

No Big Ben, London Eye, Picadilly Circus, Buckingham Palace, British Museum, or Tower of London yet, but we hope to get there soon.  Please think good thoughts for Erik or say a prayer if that's your thing.  We want him home soon.

Settling-In Services

Today was day three for us in the UK.  Lilly has been great about making this transition easy for us, and today they provided us with "settling-in services."  A relocation consultant, Jane, picked us up from home this morning and drove us all around the area, showing us the local Target-style superstore, the shopping district in Windsor ("Royal Shopping"), the local health club with pool, the horse race track in Ascot, and (the kids' favorite) Legoland.  Jane was very accommodating, taking us wherever we asked to go and providing us with information on everything from library hours to how to make a local phone call to where to find a nice place for a picnic.  Unfortunately, none of us are used to the narrow, winding roads, seeing as we live in Indiana, and Malcolm was carsick for the first time.  All over me and Jane's Audi.  Ick.

In front of the Legoland Hotel (That green thing sticking up is a dragon's tail.)

The boys saw their first castle ever (Disneyland doesn't count!) in Windsor.  We'll go back one day when it's not rainy, cold, and windy to take a tour of the castle and watch the changing of the guard.

Windsor Castle, one of the Queen's residences

Speaking of the weather, we weren't really prepared for how cold and rainy it would be.  Yes, we did know that it rains in England, but I expected it to be 10 to 15 degrees colder than home, tops.  Today the high was in the low 50's, and it's expected to dip down to 34 tonight.  Don't ask me what that is in Celsius.  People keep chuckling when we say that we are here for the summer, as if only a naive American would actually think that England has a summer.  We're trying not to feel sad about a summer with no barbecues, no outdoor pool, and no 4th of July celebration.  We'll have to learn to love our wellies and brollies, I think.

We are all charmed by how beautiful it is here.  I often feel like I've stepped into a novel and at any moment Mr. Darcy will come riding up on horseback.  Almost every building is old and has character.    The houses in our neighborhood don't have typical addresses with a building number and street name. All the houses have names, so for example, your address might be Birdsong (house name), Larch Avenue (street), Sunninghill (town).  

These are the houses you will find behind the gate.

A typical home on our street.  Seriously.

Even the trash cans are quaint.

Tomorrow is Erik's first day of work, so the kids and I will be on our own.  Wish us luck.  I managed to drive about 2 miles on the left side of the road today, but I think we'll see what we can see on foot first while I build up my courage to brave the roundabouts.

This summer is going to be all about trying new things for our family, so I've decided to start with blogging for the first time.  It seems like an easy way to keep everyone updated on our time in England, and I'm hoping it will be a nice way for us to remember our trip when we're home.  I've been inspired by reading my friend Alison's blog, "The Year of Magical Traveling," about her year in Peru.  I'll do my best not to be too "Dear Diary"-ish.  And I won't be offended if you skim through just to look at the pictures.

In trying to come up with a cute, England-inspired name, I settled on Howes End, after E.M. Forster's "Howards End." For those of you who haven't read it, Wikipedia summarizes it as follows: "Howards End is a novel by E. M. Forster, first published in 1910, which tells a story of social and familial relations in turn-of-the-century England. The main subject matter comprises the difficulties and benefits of relationships between people of divergent outlook, gender, or class; a further concern of the book is the need to accept and link multiple outlooks on the world within a single self." Maybe this will be my version of social and family relations in slightly-post-turn-of-the-21st-century England.  Or maybe it will just be a place to show off cute pictures of my kids.  

After several months of preparing ourselves, our stuff, and the kids, we are finally here in Sunninghill, Berkshire.  Here's a brief recap of our journey.

12:30 PM EDT: Jessie drives us and our mountains of stuff to the airport.  The stroller is strapped to the roof, because we can't manage to cram it into the Subaru station wagon.

2:30 PM EDT: First flight leaves for Washington Dulles.  Here's a picture of our excited selves on the plane.

IND to IAD

4:30 PM EDT: Our business class tickets (thanks, Eli Lilly!) get us access to the United Club at Dulles.
The kids watch movies while Erik and I enjoy a cocktail.

How did we travel before iPads?

6:30 PM EDT: We board the plane for London after a 30-minute delay.  Having never flown business class internationally, the kids and I are amazed and thrilled by the amount of space we have. 

To make a long story short, the kids did great with the seven-hour flight, slept a little, barely fussed at all, and were complimented on their good behavior by other passengers.  Our only minor travel problem was having way too much stuff to fit into the car that was supposed to transport us from the airport to our flat (5 suitcases, 6 carry-ons, a car seat, a booster seat, and a double stroller), but the driver quickly called for another driver with a "paper carrier" (an SUV, we learned), and we were able to cram it all in and get to our place.  When we pulled up in front of our new home, Soren asked, "When are we going to be in England?"  He didn't believe us when we told him we were here.

After a quick look around the new apartment, we took a much-needed three-hour nap and then did a little exploring.  Here are some pictures of our new, temporary home, and our car, a Vauxhall Insignia.

Our building has 8 or 9 units. 

Common grounds make a nice race track/soccer field

Our flat is located between several small towns: Sunninghill, Sunningdale, Ascot, and Virginia Water.  We took a walk to the High Street in Sunninghill on our first afternoon in the UK, and we were pleased to find some cute shops and restaurants, though most are closed on Sundays.

Sunninghill

We ended the day with dinner at a pub called the Windmill.  We had some tasty fish and chips (mine were served with "mushy minted peas") and learned that you don't order beer, you ask for lager or ale or bitters or whatever variety of malted beverage you actually desire.  The kids have been a little surprised by how different the accents and some of the words are here, but this morning Malcolm said, "It's fun being in England."  Here's one last photo of our happy kids.