Au Paris

Going to try and catch up on a little travel blogging here, my friends…

While the WI Girls Take London adventures were no less debaucherous than expected - complete with missed tube stops, stolen champagne bottles, certain people defenestrated from cabs, and a lot of crawling over each other to get around my tiny flat - I will focus on the weekend visit to Paris.

That’s right, weekend, because you can do things like that when you live in London.

After booking the hostel at 11pm the night before (you’ll see why this is important in one second…), we got ourselves up and out, and hopped on the 9am Eurostar to Paris - I tried to book the 6:40 but was overruled - and we were in Paris by 12:30 local time. All Tonimarie wanted to do was see the Eiffel Tower and quote Sex and the City, but we kept her in suspense while we stayed below ground and navigated the Metro all the way to the Bastille Monument to find our 5-Star hostel. Naturally they greeted us with champagne, fresh baked cookies and chocolate covered strawberries at the door before showing us to our room. Not quite. The reality was we walked up the very narrow, very untidy, very uneven staircase to our closet/cupboard, and when I opened the door, I cannot tell you what I would have paid to have the girls’ faces on camera… Three twin beds, all in a line, touching so that it was like one big king bed, maybe 6 inches from the foot of the beds to the wall. Luckily, or so we thought, we had our own bathroom. Until we had our first experience with the showerhead on a string + no shower curtain…Yea, our showers, if you can call them that, didn’t go very well the next day on account of our lack in coordination of showerhead holding + soaping and washing capabilities. Welcome to Europe ladies!

Once we dropped our stuff and headed out I began them on one of my, now infamous, walking tours of European cities. Walking literally from one end of the city to the other, we hit up all the major tourist attractions with one goal in mind – get them to the tower (+ keep everyone fed and happy so no one wanted to bite each other’s head’s off). Notre Dame, the Seine bridges, the Louvre, the Louvre Courtyard (personal Harvard girls’ favorite! OUR courtyard), the Tuileries, Ab Harris’ favorite obelisk (fun fact Cailin taught me), the Musee d’Orsey, and finally…. I turned them down this side alley because I thought it was a shortcut, and low and behold, there she is. I thought they were going to cry. Surely the highlight of the trip!

After surveying the line for the elevators to the top, someone had the brilliant idea to walk up the stairs…

It really wasn’t that bad, and would actually recommend it for the strong at heart, plus after level two they put you in an elevator to the tippy top (Tone almost chickened out but we convinced her otherwise). We got our beautiful aerial view, sent a picture to our parents, and were ready to be on our merry way. Unfortunately for us, crowd control at the top was not really what we’re used to in America, so there was a bit of a commotion, I thought some guy was going to punch Kate out, and then cause a bit of a ruckus amongst the rest of the tour group who I thought were preparing for battle. We somehow made our escape and got back down to elevation zero - safe and sound. I won’t go into the details, but it was touch and go there for a little bit, and we definitely added to the anti-American sentiment in our accidental attempt to cut the entire line waiting for elevators down. Oops! Je ne parle pas français!

Moving on…we were absolutely beat at this point, but I made them trudge on to the Champs Elysees because I felt we had to get a drink at one of the cafes and see the Arc de Triomphe. It was about this time when we decided that for the whole week they had been in Europe, we never sat down without having in our hands an alcoholic beverage or something to stuff our faces with, but usually both, and it was pathetically amazing.

From there, instead of heading back to the Palace Resort & Spa and changing and going out for a night on the town I convinced them to stay out and that we would go to Sacre Coeur and eat at the top of the hill. Perhaps the only thing that rivals our Eiffel Tower experience is what I am about to tell you…the best Italian food I have ever had. Sorry North End Boston, sorry Little Italy New York, we found a little place off the beaten path in Montmartre. Lured in by an Italian family sitting at a table in the window, we came to find this place owned by a family from Brooklyn. BEST mussels in white wine sauce (yes, dad better than Carrabba’s!), best pasta dishes, best prosecco, and best service + limoncello at the end (re: see we never stopped eating and drinking every time we sat our fat asses down). As travel blogs go, this is probably completely useless because I don’t think any of us got a card or know the name or even where we were, so no way we can ever find this place again, but it will live on in our memories. Capped the night off by seeing the Eiffel Tower by night at the top of Sacre Coeur where all the locals seemed to be hanging out and drinking for the evening.

Day 2 was a lot of the same, and all was delicious and just as fabulous as the first day. Overall, Paris was très successful and I think the girls enjoyed themselves immensely.

Until another trip, Au Paris!! Still one of my favorite cities in the world.

Also fun fact - Kate had come across this in Italy, but apparently there is a widely known tradition to "lock your love" in Paris...while we did not bring our own industrial sized lock (although we probably should have seeing the state of our All-Inclusive Luxury Hotel) we were able to appreciate the beauty this tradition created! So cool!

French word of the day: nourritre et alcool = food and alcohol, what got us through our visit. We went on a nourritre et alcool tour of Pareeeeee!

Stepped into a Thomas Kinkade

In light of the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee we were feeling a little English Pride and decided to take a trip to the English countryside to get a feel for the countrymen and women who embody Englishness. The bus tour we opted for took us to the Cotswolds area and Blenheim Palace, one of the UK’s most historic palaces and, more importantly, the birthplace of Sir Winston Churchill, one of my top five favorite political leaders.

Upon arriving as Blenheim we were assaulted with the juxtaposition of a modern day triathlaton taking place on the historic greens of the 18^th century Palace. 

As you can see, this was not your typical aristocratic afternoon strolling the palace premises…

Our entrance admitted us to the State Rooms as well as the Churchill Story where we could see everything from his famous paintings turned Hallmark greeting cards, to the bed in which he was born, adorned by 3 locks of his curls snipped from the five year old Winston’s head (don’t worry, this part creeped me out too). Fun fact – we saw his US Passport on display at Blenheim, marking him the first person to become an honorary US citizen.

The Palace itself was very ornate, and we came to find out built with minimal state funding, which seemed to indicate some sort of strained relationship between Queen Anne and the 1^st Duchess of Marlborough. I couldn’t be bothered with that though because I was so distracted by THIS MASTERPIECE, the largest pipe organ in private ownership in Europe. I wanted so badly to brush up against it and hit one of the keys. 

Dining room used ONCE per year at Christmas!

Lucky for me, I was restrained by my more refined friends.

Moving on from Blenheim, we were off to the Cotswolds, a range of rolling hills and villages in southwestern England. Stopping off in the villages of Bruford, Bibury, and Bourton on the Water I could not help but be transported to a Thomas Kinkade. Just look at some of these images!

It seriously begs the question….what do these people do for a living?!?! Other than shear sheep and needlepoint, I honestly don’t know what there is to do in these sleepy villages. Two and a half hours from central London we were shown what it means to be in the English countryside. 

They even had a model village replica 1/9^th the size of the original just as it was in 1930 using the Cotswold stones, complete with all the dollhouse accoutrements my little girl self could ever dream of! Sheep and bunting included!

Model Village

The kicker for me, and the epitome of what happens in the Cotswolds, we were actually lucky enough to be there to witness the weekend’s big event…Tug of War across the river! Seemed like the whole town of Burton came out to witness this spectacle, and many opted to take part themselves.

Tug of War across the river

I really wish I had a video of this. This image just doesn’t quite capture the true determination and intensity with which these guys tugged, and then celebrated thereafter. It was amazing. I guess it’s the little things out in the boonies. 

Definitely a worthwhile trip and brought me closer to the English roots that reinforce a society steeped in traditions. It was a gorgeous afternoon, although I kind of wished for a few more thatched roofs. I will be sure to log a complaint with the…sheep?

English word of the day: A phrase I came across at work when one of our male colleagues told us the women “are as thick as thieves,” translation = very close. This was a new one for me! Reminded me of Robin Hood Men in Tights. Might have to take a trip to Buckinghamshire next!

The Girl with the Swedish Massage Groupon: Story One of the Millennium Trilogy

April 21

I am going to go ahead and file this in the “Things that will never fly in the US” folder. It all started with an email…

Groupon, one of my favorite pastimes, was offering to “Get kneady with a 60 minute full body hot stone or classic massage at B&K Lifestyle Spa. Facing out on to the sumptuous streets of Westminster, and featuring shelves stacked with DECLÉOR products inside, the luxurious B&K Lifestyle Spa puts pampering on the map. Between the rosy reaches of the Regent's and Hyde Parks, the salon's esteemed beauty therapists are multi-lingual, with staff speaking several Euopean languages, and they work alongside adventurous hair stylists, creative nail artists, and merciful waxers.”

Perhaps because of my love for the fabulous pun, I clicked buy, no research required. When I called to book, the only Saturday appointment they had was two months out so I figured it had to be good! Right? Wrong. Oh so very wrong.

Fast-forward to today. After consulting my trusty google maps I decided it was quicker for me to run there than to take public transport. Calling to ensure they had shower facilities available I spoke with the first of my Swedish accented women. Multi-lingual European staff, CHECK! Assuring me they did have showers, I strapped on my backpack and was on my merry way.

I got there and I was faced with two doors. Both labeled #104. Door number one had the B&K Spa sign, door number two was open, and seemed to enter into a long hallway. What was behind door number one? Not much! Expecting it to open up to a large spa-like atmosphere with zen music and aromatherapy candles burning, I found myself in a 5x20 sad excuse for a hair salon. Skirting around the lone hair styling chair I cleared my throat to get the hair washers attention. She asked if I had an appointment, I said yes, she had have a seat. After a quick 360, I saw my options were: vacant chair behind the desk, hair salon chair which was clearly to be used when the hair washer was done, manicurist chair, or back outside on the stoop of the sumptuous streets of Westminster. Mimicking a nail technician, I took my place in her swivel stool.

Five minutes later, when it became clear the hair washer was running somewhat of a one-man show I asked where I could find the showers. With a perplexed look she remarked in her Swedish accent, “Usually people shower after their massages…”

I tried to explain to her that I had just run there, was sweaty, would rather not subject the masseuse to my sweatiness, etc. and she said hold on 1 minute. Reappearing, she said fine, I could use the shower and took me out into the hall (what was behind Door #2) and directed me down the flight of stairs, and said to go to the end of the hall and look for the woman with the red hair. Finding her in what was a kitchen with a bathroom off it, it became clear they were running this “Spa” out of the comfort of their own home. If you don’t believe me, please see for yourself:

Shower "Facility"

Clothes drying. No big deal.

Washing Machine - ON

Embracing the ridiculous situation, I was warned that “someone else was using the shower gel,” but still for some reason, I took the “fresh towel” the British Warrior Queen Boudicca handed me, straight from the dryer (could have gotten it myself!), and hopped right in. It didn’t take long to figure out why they hadn’t wanted me to shower at the moment. Since the washing machine was also in the bathroom, I saw so clearly it was on, therefore…no hot water. Gave myself a nice freezing cold rinse and got the hell out of that basement communal shower “facility.”

Resuming my position as manicurist upstairs I waited to be called. Luckily it was all uphill from there and I was taken to a proper massage room with a legit massage bed and masseuse.

Through this whole ordeal though, I couldn’t help but be reminded of the time Cyndi and I were in Manhattan to see a show and found ourselves face to face with a solicitor who managed to sell us a coupon for a list of beauty services including a haircut and blowout, color, waxing, massage, makeup application, and manicure/pedicure. We of course bought it for something like $100, went over to the salon, and found out we could only use 1 service per visit. The $20 return LIRR tickets made this “deal” impossible to be profitable for us. Accepting defeat we got our haircut and blown out and made our way over to see, ironically enough, Legally Blonde.

Well played B&K Lifestyle Spa, well played, you got me! Not that it was a great feat. Great little homegrown, home-run scam of a spa. Just look at the website! They would have fooled you too. Next time I will read the reviews before I go hastily clicking the buy button.

English word of the day: Nutter = crazy person. As in, I must be a nutter to purchase a deal I didn’t seriously research. Lesson learned! No harm, no foul.

Will Run for Food

Ran 7 miles for what was advertised as a New York bagel.

What I got was more like a plastic sleeved, Lender’s, chewy, plain bagel. NOT the Long Island Jewish bagel I know and love so much. 

After hearing the hype of the famed bagels of Beigel Bake on Brick Lane, I set out to cure my hangover. Classic run it off, sweat it out, and then reward myself with treats from my home situation. Along the run I fantasized about which bagel combo I would choose. Like any good fat kid, I pondered; would it be an everything with chive cream cheese? Bacon and egg bagel with veggie? French toast bagel with butter? The options were limitless…in my head. As I neared the destination, surreptitiously pulling my sweaty dollars from my sports bra (cash only establishment!), I expected to walk into the scent of freshly boiling-and-baking bagels and bins upon bins of all the flavors in the world.

Instead I found this:

Also, side note - what is a chicken beigel?!

My options were entirely limited:

Beigel

            W cream cheese

            W salt beef

            W salmon

            W butter

            W salami

            W egg

None of these sounded appealing to my less than settled stomach at this point.

What is hot salt beef anyway?? Is it like a corned beef type thing? Am I supposed to know what this is as a true New Yorker? Hmm, these options just were not the top of the list at Stuff-a-Bagel on my Sunday mornings on Long Island.

Going with the safe choice, I picked the one with cream cheese. Horrified, I watched as the checker simply reached behind her and pulled out a pre-made, plain bagel with cream cheese already in a brown paper bag. Feeling cheated since that order was far too easy to warrant my run, I felt I should order something else. Pointing at some almond croissant looking thing, I had her throw that in a bag too. It wasn’t much better than the bagel.

New business plan – importing long island bagels and bagel makers. REAL ones. AND spelling the word bagel correctly.

Maybe it’s my own fault and the sign should have given it away…open 24 hours. I would have been much better off stopping in the midst of my night out, not the morning after my night out. 

English word of the day: hip flask = pretty self explanatory, but still I was shocked by the need to clarify the hip part. This term came about with one of the senior managers in my office talking about this charity Dog Sledding event he is doing in Greenland. He mentioned it because apparently they have a huge alcoholism problem there and would steal the “hip flasks” right off you! Yes, this was the piece I took away from the conversation, not the fact that this guy is going to Greenland to mush dogs. It’s the way my mind works. Don’t question it.

London through the eyes of a Newbie

In the continuation of the Bailey-Kills-Her-Parents-in-Walking-Tour-of-London saga, I want to take you through some of the highlights. Bare in mind, this is my uncensored retelling, and honestly, you just can’t make this stuff up.

Brace yourselves for this shocker, BUT this was actually my dad’s first time in Europe, and had he not recently embarked on his latest mission to find the bluest, warmest, cleanest water in the world where he plans to build his retirement home, I’m pretty sure those passport pages would have been completely naked. I mention this because marveling at the architecture’s antiquity, experiencing the English traditions, and taking in the history all around us, were made all the more enjoyable because we were able to do it through his very own new-to-Europe eyes.

 The colors of Big Ben were brighter…

(Dad: They must have JUST cleaned and polished that)

 

The facades more ornate….

(Dad: Unbelievable the detail they put in there!)

And the history richer than our little brains could handle…

(Dad: I really wish I had paid more attention in History class)

Given that everything he knew about Europe came from the Travel Channel, (which I was going to call and cancel on their TV if I heard one more time that “This looks just like Germany!” or “This reminds me of Rome”….YOU’VE NEVER BEEN THERE!!), and the fact that I might not ever get him to sit on a plane again for seven hours, I tried to pack in everything! EVERY-THING. See itinerary below.

 

A few highlights of the trip:

1. Tower of London – great tour, if anyone comes to London this a must-do. We loved hearing about the Kings and Queens that passed through the Tower gates, most never to walk back out in one cohesive piece. We loved envisioning how the Tower grew and was added to and changed over time. We loved hearing the legends of the Tower lore. All of it was amazing. To the point that my dad consistently kept this venue in his top three favorite things in London – although it was not without internal strife as the days wore on and we kept seeing more incredibly old things that rivaled the Tower, all of which challenged his ability to pick just one favorite event.

2. Markets, Markets Everywhere, and ALWAYS a bite to eat – now I know my father well enough to know that this was going to be a huge hit in his book. I planned to take him to all my favorite markets on all the best days. This led us to Portobello Road for some German sausages (“Just like the one’s in Germany…”), Greenwich Market for shrimp tempura and dim sum (okay this one doesn’t really scream Greenwich, but it was outdoor meats on sticks, so he was happy), Camden for freshly fried, greasy, sugary donuts, Covent Garden for looking at polish samplings and breads and sweets (we were full at this point), and Borough Market for cheeses (we decided there was always room for cheese).  I love the availability of the outdoor markets and the freshness of everything there – which made my dad acknowledge the fact that with these markets he would never cook. EVER! Luckily my mom kept control of the purse strings during these outings.

3. One Man, Two Guvnors – a British comedy. I bought the parents tickets to see this show based on rave reviews in many of the London newspapers. Not really taking the time to think about the concept of a “Governor” in English terms, foreign to us Americans, we set out to see our play and excitedly sat front row for one of James Corden’s last shows in this theatre. The slapstick, traditional farce of a show was so traditionally British that had us a little confused at the beginning, but once you got into it they had us in stitches. A lot of the jokes toed the line, and often times surpassed it in terms of what would be allowed in the states, and I will say a lot of the Cricket/Football references went over our heads, but we had a great night and loved every minute of it. It was something different. Will be interesting to see how they adapt it for the Americans as it comes to New York sometime soon!

4. Boat Cruise down the Thames – or what was actually a HIGH SPEED MOTORBOAT ADVENTURE. I was over the whole sightseeing, leisurely float down the Thames with all the history on each side, and then the slow u-turn for you to only come back and experience it all again going the other way. No. I took my parents on the RIB London Voyage Experience. Maximum occupancy on the boat was 12 and we were equipped with life preservers and ponchos in case we got wet. And we were told it was not for those with back problems or heart conditions (we snuck my dad on anyway) and cautioned to hold on “rather tightly” as soon as we emerged from the no wake zone. From there it was a race past Canary Wharf to Greenwich and back, only we weren’t technically racing anyone, but if we were, we certainly would have won. London’s speed boat experience was a fun one. Glad my mom is still talking to me after I dragged her on this one. 

5. Spending time with the family! Although it was cramped as we all clown-carred our way into my flat every night, I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Given our schedule, you can see we were never really home long enough to mind it, but I’m glad we did get to decompress and discuss the happenings of each day as a family every night.

It was a fun adventure all around, albeit exhausting. Maybe I do have a future in a second career as a trip planner/tour guide. What do you think parents? Most exhausting “vacation” you’ve had in a while? Thought so.

English word of the day: Cheery-bye-bye = no translation. In fact this isn’t even a phrase at all! This, my friends, is what my dad thought they would all be saying over here in London. And since they weren’t he vowed that they would be before I knew it…luckily we kept his usage of it to a minimum while here. 

Oh yea, and I think we found next year's Christmas card...