Rainy London Day Trip

I guess we are gluttons for punishment. So this meant that the last rainy Saturday we decided to press our luck and go back to London. You would think the post Christmas madness would have been enough to deter us from going back too soon, but ignorance is bliss. 

The Hubs wanted to go to the British Museum. 

The British Museum is "dedicated to human history and culture. It's permanent collection, numbering some 8 million works, is among the largest and most comprehensive...", um yea. I am pretty sure of the 8 million items, we saw, maybe, less than 1%. Silly us, we forgot rule number 1: Kids don't care about history. 

Decrepit old mummy?

 Meh. Want to go to the Science Center.

How about some Egyptian artifacts older than Mommy, Daddy, Grandma Darling, Grandpa, Nana, and Pops all  put together? 

That's cool. Right? 

 Meh, Can we go to the science center? Now?

How about some hand carved statues? They're really old?

(This is not the science center....)

 Or some really cool tablets and obelisks?  This is how Egyptian kids had to do their homework! 

Look! Look at these wicked cool figurines! This is what Egyptian kids used when they played farm!

How about this cool sarcophagus? Meh. 

The only thing he found entertaining was this:

And we had to tell him this is what ancient Egyptians used to bathe their kitties in. Yes, I know it's a blatant lie, but it got him to stop complaining (main thing) and also got a laugh out of him. He decided we needed to build one for our cats. While our cats do enjoy the notion of  feline worship, they do not enjoy anything to do with bathing in a basin full of water.  I hope I have my phone near me the fateful day he manages to pull one of them into the tub. (Perhaps have the plasters (band-aids) and Neosporin close at hand, too.)The kitties do hang around at bath time because the robo-fish is endlessly fascinating. 

What I find fascinating is the fascination with robo-fish. Is a real fish that much of a nuisance? Is this for people with fish allergies? Fear of commitment? Ichthyophobia - the fear of fish? If I am going to go to all the trouble to set up a bowl/tank of water I might be inclined to go that extra step and throw in a real fish. This goes to show two very important things: there is a sucker born every minute and I really need to find out how to market some of my stupid ideas that, funny enough, don't seem so stupid now. 

The museum was packed. I know, what did I expect? It was raining. I forgot British people and their 'Keep Calm and Carry On' attitude. I expected them to stay at home, and probably most of the reasonable ones did, but what I forgot was that lots of other people, possibly on their holiday, would not. I do the same thing when I'm on holiday and the weather is not cooperating. You just suck it up and get out there and see the sights. Well that's exactly what all the French, Polish, Russian, and Asian holiday goers did. (Not to say the Brits weren't out, but those were primarily the accents I heard around me at the museum. Plus a few American accents, too. Which always trips me out - I don't know why. Like we're the only 'mericans allowed in London that weekend.  Which given our poor image on the world stage, might not be such a bad idea....)

Here are some more pictures I managed to snap as we broke land speed records through the exhibits.

Goofy pose - but not bad...

Bust of Zeus, old books, ancient plates...

I am not sure about these.

 

I did find some really cool jewelry.

Some of these pieces are featured in some prominent paintings. If I would have been able to read the educational information with the display I may have been able to tell you which paintings, but when your tracking a bored Bean, "ain't no body got time for that!" (Sweet Brown Remix - awesome...and still way better than Miley Cyrus.)

I think the science center is this way....

I am pretty sure that we tortured him for the better part of two hours. Here are the rest of my photos:

Would love to do a floor like this...

Here is a picture of some lovely glass bowls. They are lovely and they are green. That's my take on them. I couldn't tell you anything else about them. Oh, they're old. Really, really old. 

This is funny. I have always heard the crass expression, "standing around with your d*ck in your hand". Well, apparently, it is not a new phenomena. Classic art would reveal the origin of this expression ....

This is the Greek God  Mercury, just standing there with his privates in his hand. Never mind that he could be flying all over the place delivering earth-shattering messages or bouquets of fragrant flowers as the  FTD Spokes-deity. Never mind that at some point his manhood was broken off and someone stuck it in his hand. Never mind the fact that apparently none of the museum staff have noticed this - incredibly funny - travesty committed to (on? against?) a piece of ancient history. 

This eye-opening history lesson was about as racy as we got on this trip. The other exhibit I didn't get anywhere near was: 

Yea, probably the one exhibit that could have held the Bean's attention was the 'naughty bits' exhibit.  I have enough trouble keeping pants on him/them now. 

So after much whining and pleading, and whining and pleading, we headed for the Science Center. Okay, it's really the Science Museum, but if there is a water table - it's a Science Center. As luck would have it, the Science Center is in a different part of the galaxy than the British Museum. We took the tube and hiked the 27 miles to the glorious Science Museum.

Did he want to check out the space toilet?  NO!

Did he want to check out the 7-toed cat?   NO!

Did he want to check out the old cars?       NO!

Nope, we headed straight into the depths of darkest hell. The 'Hands-On' exhibits in the basement (or as I like to call it: The Lord of the Flies Experiment.) This was a bad idea. There were so many children at the water table that Bean played for less than five minutes. (Well, this was probably a given since we had the foresight to pack the Bean a new change of clothing for the assumed soaking.) The room was the temperature of the sun. Maybe 5 degrees warmer. Children were at their base elements: chaos and tantrums.

Here we are in a quiet (ha!) corner of the hands-on exhibit. It was the earthquake simulator. This was pretty fun. He would build a tower, then (I would) turn the handle to produce earthquake like motion, and watch to see if his structure would survive an earthquake. This was great fun. This was just before a swarm of children became immensely interested in what we were doing. 

We managed to leave the exhibit and took a breather on the presentation stairs outside. I had some tepid water and the Bean sucked down a juice box we'd brought with us. He laid down and put his head in my lap. We asked him what he wanted to do next and he said, "go home." I guess if you can't play in the water table - what's the point? I also think he was thinking of the super cool Science Center we went to in the Netherlands. I think he was a bit disappointed. Now that was a water table. 

The Bean's willingness to leave was not taken lightly. He was acting sluggish. He was getting cranky. We began the long trek back to the Kings Cross Station. This meant the 27 mile walk back to the nearest tube station, five stops in a crammed tube, up four escalators, half a dozen turnstiles, and back on the train to take us back to our local stop. Yea! 

Bean was out of steam. Which meant that I carried him the 27 mile walk back to the nearest tube station, held him for two stops in a crammed tube before a nice lady offered me her seat. "I have two," she said, "Please sit down!"  The Bean was falling asleep.  I checked him for a fever. This should have triggered my Spidey sense. If my Spidey sense had been working, I would have been prepared for the spray of vomit that shortly thereafter began issuing out of the Bean. Luckily, I was wearing my rain parka, but, unluckily, what slid down my parka fell directly in my lap. I took two blasts full-frontal to keep anyone else from getting puked on. People moved.  Very, very quickly.

I was able to stand up, and point the Bean towards the doors - where he finished getting sick. Now, you would think, that a tube car full of people who just witnessed projectile vomit would be perhaps a bit put off. I was relieved when I heard one huge bloke say, "Aww, poor little fella! 'E can't help it!" Then a sympathetic grandma-like lady said, "Oh, bless 'em, He's as white as a sheet." 

Luckily the next stop was our tube stop. That tube car cleared out faster than a keg at a Frat party. Well, given that the home football (Arsenal) match (vs. Tottenham) going on that night, it probably wasn't going to be the only tube car covered in vomit that evening. 

Luckily, once we made it back to Kings Cross station, the toilet attendant noticed our frustration at the turnstile that would not accept anything but correct change and then immediately noticed we were covered in nastiness and happily let us in to the uni-sex baby changing area. I did what I could. It's hard when there are no paper towels and the toilet tissue is one-ply paper that you could read newsprint through. Great! Covered in vomit and little dingleberries of tissue paper! We tucked our tails between our legs and went to find a seat on the train. The Bean promptly fell asleep on my lap. My lap was beginning to smell as the heat from the child and the train started to warm up my jeans.

I have never been so ready to get home in my entire life. All our clothes went directly into the washing machine. The Bean went directly to the couch. He demanded hot chocolate with marshmallows.  By this time the color had returned to his cheeks and I chalked his sickness up to adrenaline, repeatedly going from one temperature extreme to another, and taking down that juice box in two gulps. 

Ah - what is life with out a little adventure!  I will never regret uprooting our family, up and out of everything we knew, to have this amazing adventure! I will follow the notion of Robert Frost:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; 

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day! 
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. 

Until next time,

Lisa

Post Christmas Adventure

Ok, so after the Holidaze, we decided to cure our cabin fever and take a trip into London to check out the phenomena known as the Hyde Park Winter Wonderland. Our brilliant deduction was that now that Santa had officially made his Christmas run, the crowds would be manageable. Bean also had some Christmas money from his Grandparents so he was going to choose his own presents. This meant a run into Hamley's Toy Store.

Ah, the things you do for your child. I think 'crowded department store' is number four on my list of things I would rather take a poke to the eye with a sharp stick than do. This falls behind 'annual exam', 'eaten by shark', 'and death by inferno'. Going to said TOY store mere days after the biggest holiday of the year probably gives this a +1 point for sheer incomprehensible awfulness, but a -3 for stupidity. Meh, I can tick a few things off my bucket list.

The train to London was packed, but we had a  good time getting there. I played that awkward game of catching someone looking at you, then you look at them and they're looking at you, so you look at them to see if they're looking at you and then they catch you looking at them. I hate that game. I always imagine all the reasons they are staring at me and some of them include: she thinks I am someone famous (I get this all the time), my hair looks terrible, the amusing American accent, traveling companion to the man with the awesome white hair and the kid with the amazing red hair, and a myriad of other self-loathing (mostly) reasons.

Jumping off the train and into the station we stumbled upon one of the best sights in the Kings Cross station: 

Yes, that is the entrance to platform 9 3/4. There were people lined up to try and push the Harry Potter cart thru the wall to the Hogwarts platform. It was very amusing. Not so amusing was the line out the door for the newly opened Harry Potter Platform 9 3/4 gift shop. Maybe next time. I didn't pack my eye gouging stick on this adventure. We bought our oyster card for transportation and  jumped on the Piccadilly line headed for fun central.

Well, we exited the tube, only to discover that we had exited on the total wrong side of the park- and the wrong park all together. We had gotten off at Kensington Park where the Diana Memorial Park and the fantastic pirate ship playground are found. Ugh, we had to walk the 700 miles across the, over the Serpentine bridge, to catch up with the masses funneling towards the event area. If this was an 'off' day I would have imploded in the middle of the crowd when the event was truly banging. I am not a big fan of crowds, neither is the Bean or the Hubs. 

On our way to the mysterious and secretive location of the Wonderland, we met another young couple on a pilgrimage of  their own. They stopped us and asked if they were headed in the right direction - and we had to admit we didn't know quite where we were going, either.  Bean (always the charmer) had his eye on one of the doughnuts they brought with them. They tried to give him a doughnut, we politely refused. I certainly didn't want Bean to think that all he has to do is bat those fantastic eyelashes and he can get anything he wants. It may be close to true, but he certainly doesn't need to know that at 5 years old. The couple, who I believe were Muslim, were so gracious that they ended up insisting we take a can of Pringles. They refused to let us compensate them for the chips (or chip-flake wafers if you prefer) and I think the husband came very close to hugging the Hubs. We even ran back into them in the madness, and they still refused to take a few pounds from us. Faith in humanity- restored. It seems that with all the fighting and hatred in the world, we should remember that not all members of any particular culture are happy with the way they are portrayed on the world's stage. Quite frankly, there are any number of people I don't want waving their flag on my behalf. I just look at the others and mouth, "I'm not with them." 

It was a fantastic day to stroll. And to listen to the lime green parakeets screeching in the boughs above. Wait. What?

I must mention the green parakeets. They were the very definition of free range and cage free. I was stunned. You see one and you think maybe you're seeing things. The hubs thought he was imagining things. Pshhh! A parakeet in London!  Quick! Call the RSPCA! Someone's lost their beloved Polly! Apparently they have been 'native' for 50 years. This is not your Granny's Tweetie bird. These street smart birds have adapted quite nicely and have established their 'turf' in the madness of the bustling city.

We had a hot dog at the Winter Wonderland. The grill rotated as it cooked the dogs, brats, and burgers. It was quite the set up.

 We found a little bench to eat our lunch and take a look around at all the amusements. There were some scary rides. Throw in some animatronic yodelers singing from a four story amusement and you have yourself a Winter Wonderland fun extravaganza!

 The Ferris wheel that didn't seem to actually give rides, but instead seemed to just let people off and on.

 The Ferris wheel as we were leaving. Yea, I'm gonna get the hang of this photo opportunity thing someday.

 Here are the swings. I'm gonna tell Nana we rode this. She instilled in me the fear of these swings. 'Cause you know, the chains will break and you'll break your legs. Nope. Not for me thanks. It was too flamin' high and too bloody cold. (Geeze - I am getting old)

  We left promptly once the day warmed up and the masses started funneling into the park. The Bean was very overstimulated with all the crowd, flashing lights and quite frankly so was I. 

 Hee hee! He now wants to strike a pose when asked to stop for a photographic opportunity.

 OK. I have to comment about the kids below. (Yes, at my age I can call them kids - if I have been driving longer than you've been alive- you're a kid.) These kids were total posers. Most of the 'punks' today wear wigs instead of taking on the persona of the punk generation. Back in my day (Punk g-ma wraps her tattered shawl around her whilst standing in Doc Martins) we dyed our hair and dealt with the disappointed looks from our elders. There was no weekend punk ticket you could get to be cool for 48 hours. This is what's wrong with society today. No commitment.

I am disappointed in myself that I did not get a photo of the girl (that's debatable) who had, what I think was part of a wig, fashioned to appear like the bill on a ball cap. What gave the ruse away was the string holding the hair/bill in place. Go big or go home, but you get points for art and craft skills.

Here is the Marble Arch. And the masses we were bravely (stupidly?) headed straight into.

We finally made it to the famous toy store Hamley's. Oh what fresh hell is this? You know what's worse that a Holiday Fantastical in Hyde park? A seven (yes, 7) story toy store. The Bean's mouth was dropped open for a better part of two hours. If there was a toy or novelty you could think of, but didn't know where to find it (as long as you've got the money, honey) Hamley's will have it within its walls. You could easily spend an entire day here if you don't mind the pungent smell of poo and children screaming at the tops of their lungs. (By the way, the Hubs had recently been to an undisclosed location in Africa.  He described the stench there as 'burning poo poos and charcoal'. Still, he was mortified by the smelly clouds that encompassed you about every 10 feet in Hamley's.  Hubs says he's been to better smelling slums in Central America.)

 Here are a few of the fantastic Lego displays in Hamley's:

 Sorry, but this isn't my idea of 'Summer Fun'.

 Here is Bean with the Queen:

 I think he was asking the her for a doughnut.

 And the R2-D2 Lego set. Send me 400 bucks and I'll send you one. That covers the cost of the set, the postage to send it and the pain and suffering I have to go through in going back to the store to pick it up. Yep. People are nuts over Legos. The set was 190 pounds. (Current exchange rate of 1.635 is $310.75 plus s/h and the mental stress...)

 Life-size Lego phone booth.

 Yep, it's the royal wedding - in Legos.

 Here is Prince Charles...

 And for my Dr. Who freaks...it is Union Jack Dalek. Sorry, I can't remember how much this little gem was, but send me 400 bucks and it's yours. They had sonic screwdrivers, too, but I didn't get a snap of them.

 I think my face tells you how ready I was for something cold and frosty, or maybe it was the kid with the two foot afro I was looking at...hard to say. We also discovered the Bean loves  hot wings. Score!

 Random Christmas decor

Well at this point it was probably 4:30 and we headed back to the tube station to make our connection back to our local stop. Many thanks to Grandparents that made this trip possible. I will make sure to bring all the noisy toys with me when the Bean and I make our trip to the states in the Spring. You've been warned. 

What toys did the Bean select? You maybe wondering. Well if you ask Bean, the best thing going is the Eddie Stobart truck set he received. This trucking company is so popular they have their own reality TV show. I have it saved on my DV-R. He also threw a Higher Education monster truck. I wonder if Lloyd's of London would insure the Bean's monster truck collection? He was just too overwhelmed with possibility.

Just a side note:

A lot of people ask me what type of home security system we have. I proudly tell them we have the LXC (Bean's initials). If you can get past the minefield of toys, plus waking up the Hubs (who is just itching to try our the Rungu  he brought back from the undisclosed location in Africa) wearing - most likely - Meerkat socks and questionable boxers -  said burglar can then attempt to carry out their nefarious activities. Good luck with that.  You may walk in, but you're limping out. I think we'll be OK. It's is customary here, when you go on Holiday,  that you leave your house pitch black. Not even the porch light is left on. In the states, we set things on timers, have people come by and check the mail and water the cats. Nope - here they might as well leave the key in the lock and hang a banner that reads: Hey! Nobody's home!!   Lucky for our neighbors, the Hubs is Mr. Community Watch.

But I digress. Christmas was fun this year. I really missed my family, but as families usually experience, this year everyone went their separate ways. Life has a way of throwing a wrench (or spanner) into your routine, whether you like it or not. It's ok, because this is temporary and there will come a time when we are all back together, again. Until then, we will forge our own traditions and look forward to 2014. (Which is here already, but I have lost a week somewhere around here...)

I leave you with this poem, by Bob Perks:

I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.

I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.

I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.

I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.

I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.

I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.

I wish you enough “Hello’s” to get you through the final “Goodbye.”

Happy New Year!
XO
Lisa