London Bridge?

On Saturday, Mike and I went to Burough Market. We'll include some pictures of that soon, because it was fantastic - essentially a huge farmer's market set in the city viaducts. We got there early, bought apricot balsamic, pistachio baklava, sourdough bread, one huge beautiful tomato and yogurt banana chips. We also sampled rose candy, Mike had a sausage and I had the best veggie burger of my life. Chloe played on a stone structure near a church next to the market and we managed to catch all the sun of the day in those few hours.

On the way to the market, we took a bus and Mike navigated us over the London Bridge, which was a great moment - crossing a piece of history. But then, as I was talking to my father today, he suggested that perhaps the actual London Bridge is in Arizona. And it turns out he is right. See below. What I learned is that the bridge my family crossed on Saturday was actually built from 1967 to 1972 after the original started sinking and needed replaced. Luckily, the Market was so fun, I don't know that it bothers me that much!

It is also worth noting that apparently most people think that Tower Bridge is the London Bridge and are disappointed to learn that is one bridge over.

Us on the "New" London Bridge (see Tower Bridge in the background?)

Tower Bridge

The Old London Bridge - now in Arizona

On 18 April 1968, Londong Bridge was sold to the American entrepreneur Robert P. McCulloch of McCulloch Oil for US$2,460,000. As the bridge was disassembled, each piece was numbered to aid reassembly and those markings can still be seen today. The bridge was reconstructed at Lake Havasu City, Arizona and re-dedicated on October 10, 1971. The reconstruction of Rennie’s London Bridge spans a man-made canal that leads from Lake Havasu to Thomson Bay, and forms the centerpiece of a theme park in English style, complete with mock-Tudor shopping mall. Rennie’s London Bridge has become Arizona’s second-biggest tourist attraction, after the Grand Canyon.
The version of London Bridge that was rebuilt at Lake Havasu consists of a concrete frame with stones from the Old London Bridge used as cladding. Not all of the bridge was transported to America, as some was kept behind in lieu of tax duties. The remaining stone was left at Merrivale Quarry on Dartmoor in Devon, so a large part of Rennie’s bridge never left the UK. When Merrivale Quarry was abandoned and flooded in 2003, some of the remaining stones were sold in an online auction.

The Queen

After an outing to Kensington High Street, CC and I got home in time to catch a little of the Trooping the Colour celebrating the Queen's Birthday. To quote Mike, "it was just a whole lot of marching", but it is amazing the traditions they have here. I didn't see it, but Mike also pointed out that when the Queen stepped out of her carriage to "inspect the troops" she was still clutching her purse. What is that all about?

CC really liked the marching. She did some of her own and then sat with me to watch some more. She doesn't have an accent yet, but she certainly seems to like some local customs.

About Trooping the Colour:

The custom of Trooping the Colour dates back to the time of Charles II in the 17th. Century when the Colours of a regiment were used as a rallying point in battle and were therefore trooped in front of the soldiers every day to make sure that every man could recognise those of his own regiment. In London, the Foot Guards used to do this as part of their daily Guard Mounting on Horse Guards and the ceremonial of the modern Trooping the Colour parade is along similar lines. The first traceable mention of The Sovereign's Birthday being 'kept' by the Grenadier Guards is in 1748 and again, after George III became King in 1760, it was ordered that parades should mark the King's Birthday. From the accesssion of George IV they became, with a few exceptions and notably the two World Wars, an annual event.

This impressive display of pageantry is now held on the occasion of the Queen's Official Birthday. It takes place in June each year to celebrate the official Birthday of the Sovereign and is carried out by her personal troops, the Household Division, on Horse Guards Parade, with the Queen herself attending and taking the salute.

Since 1987, The Queen has attended in a carriage rather than riding, which she did before that on 36 occasions, riding side-saddle and wearing the uniform of the regiment whose Colour was being trooped. The regiments take their turn for this honour in rotation as operational commitments permit.

Over 1400 officers and men are on parade, together with two hundred horses; over four hundred musicians from ten bands and corps of drums march and play as one. Some 113 words of command are given by the Officer in Command of the Parade. The parade route extends from Buckingham Palace along The Mall to Horse Guards Parade, Whitehall and back again.

Precisely as the clock on the Horse Guards Building strikes eleven, the Royal Procession arrives and The Queen takes the Royal Salute. The parade begins with the Inspection, The Queen driving slowly down the ranks of all eight Guards and then past the Household Cavalry. After the event, the Royal Family gathers on the balcony of Buckingham Palace to watch an RAF flypast.

Camden Markets

When we lived in Chicago, I remember thinking that there must be an easier way to live. When it snowed we had to shovel out the car. When we wanted to go to the store, we had to consider how we'd get there, how much we bought and how much we could carry home. When we wanted to go downtown, we had to think about whether the train was going to be packed.

And then we had kids and life became more complicated with strollers and car seats and rain covers and commutes. And then we eliminated a million complications by moving to Deerfield. We had a garage. We had access to every store and chain imagineable. We had plenty of space...

Yet, when the opportunity to move to London was offered, we didn't once let the complexities that were sure to greet us change our minds. Not only that, but we made a promise to ourselves that if any outing or trip seemed too hard, we'd do it anyway. Because otherwise, how would we ever see the city and all the things around it with two kids?

We have stuck to that promise so far - but frankly we do that by planning way ahead and thinking through all of those plans to ensure we're prepared, therefore making it simpler on ourselves. For example, last Saturday we went to the Science Museum. We read about it online, knew where the kids spaces were, went early to beat the crowds, took the bus line that we were already familiar with, and even took a little picnic so we wouldn't be hungry. Oh, we were so proud.

But the true test of our promise came last Sunday when our friends called to invite us on a day trip to Camden. It was already 10:30 when we determined that would be a good way to spend the day. Both kids were already down for a nap and frankly, other than the tour books we had on hand calling Camden eclectic, we knew little else. But we jumped at the chance.

The first challenge came in getting there. We met up with our friends and their four kids and immediately entered a tube station with no lift. Honestly, not many tube stations have a lift, but it is especially daunting when you have a double stroller filled with two 25 pound kids. But, between M and I, we got the big Phil and Ted's stroller down to the train level. And we crammed onto the train with a million other people. And then came the transfer down to another train line - one of the many that is set down in the bowels of the earth and again has no lift. So we tested our skills on an escalator. And then crammed onto yet another crowded train. And then had to brave the stairs and escalators going up. I felt like we were on an obstacle course because these stations are not all one level, so we'd think we were done, after riding down an escalator, only to turn a corner and have 10 stairs up to climb.

Exhausted, we spilled out into Camden Markets, along with the million people from the trains, into a crowd of a million more. There were markets and shops crammed all around us selling everything from tourists goods, to Wellies, to lingerie, to grunge outfits, to tattoos. And of course, there we are again, taking up the room of 10 people with our big old stroller and now a toddler who decided she wanted to walk and dance ot the music.

There are times that people and crowds make me batty. But this was not one of those times. In fact, I loved it. The area was great, the people were fantastic to see, the vendors were unique and the smells of a million types of food were so appealing. We stopped and got a fresh donut that they frosted to Chloe's liking and we ate it on the side of the road watching the crowds. Then we went to Stables Market, which is a huge old stable filled now with markets and food vendors and huge metal and wood tables and benches. We found ourselves a corner out of the way and ate Indian food - samosas and potatoes/spinach and rice. The kids bought lollipops and then we headed out of the crowds on to Regent's Park.

And that made it feel like a day of opposites. We started the day in crowds with loud music and traffic. And we ended in Regent's Park, which was open and green and massive and had people playing sports and children running around. We played for a long time, after spending some time changing two children who had exploded and required an outfit change (did I mention that nothing is easy these days?) and then, when we were all too exhausted to continue, got milkshakes and sat contemplating the long journey home.

And it was long. And it was hard. And there were a gazillion stairs. But the kids, all six of them, were fantastic, and happy and tickled each other and danced around. And at the end of the day, as I was falling asleep at 8:30 p.m. for the night, I was so very proud of us.

Trade Offs

Last night I got on a plane to Switzerland after being home only one full day following a trip to the states. All I could think as the car pulled away, and I caught the kiss my daughter had blown me from the front window, was "man, this is hard." And I remained on edge, unhappy and stressed enough to chew my nails into an unattractive mess until midnight when my cab pulled up to the hotel in Switzerland. At the front desk was a man named Gunter who welcomed me so nicely, showed me my room and was clearly so proud of this hotel that I had no choice but to be pleased to be here.

And then I woke up and had breakfast here.

I work in a job that asks me to put in long hours and to travel a lot. I sometimes do such ridiculous things that I can't help but think - this is my job? And then the same job puts me in a picture-perfect moment that I wouldn't have had access to in my life, and I can't help but think - this is my job? I find myself sometimes equally elated and embarrassed about moments that I am afforded. This is one of them. Would I give up this view, this experience and this luxurious treatment to be home with my family? Yes, a million times over. But if I have to be away and working, I am certainly not complaining that it is here.