Trip Report: London, Paris, Lake District (Long)
 

Monday, March 31st
Uneventful flight over to Heathrow from LAX. Took an Ambien, but it had no effect whatsoever. My wife was sound asleep, of course, so I knew it would take longer for her to adjust to the time difference when we arrived. My inability to sleep caused me to go for the all-nighter and try to wait until an reasonable hour in London to go to sleep.

Being that we chose not to let fear rule us, flying to London on American Airlines and visiting Paris during wartime was not a problem. We figured it might be to our advantage and that lines/queues would be shorter and things generally less crowded. We'd find that somewhat true.

Tuesday, April 1st
Arrived to the cloudy London outskirts of Heathrow Airport. Completely exhausted from the trip, we made our way through customs relatively easily, though I'd wish I'd applied for dual-citizenship (my father is British), as the line was almost non-existent for the natives.

Finally got through and made our way to the Heathrow Express trains where we bought tickets (no line) quite easily (I recommend buying there, not in advance). Rode the train into Paddington Station and found a cab outside. Word of caution: be explicit with directions to cabbies and insist they follow your route or at least get a fare quote in advance. Even with printed and verbal directions (a MultiMap printout: http://www.multimap.co.uk), the driver insisted on ignoring me and making up his own route, thus getting lost and hiking up the fare. Oh well, I expected some snafus. They inevitably happen during travel and you should be prepared to lose a little bit of money along the way (cabbies, sneaky ticket agents, bad math, etc.).

Arrived at the hotel (Kensington Rooms: http://www.kensingtonrooms.co.uk/), an ultra-modern, ultra-hip hotel decked out with pop art, soft earthy colors and designer furniture. The young and beautiful staff was very accommodating and charming.

We got to our room on the third floor. It was pearly, white and clean, with the same stylish decor found elsewhere. Fortunately, it also had an incredibly comfortable bed. Smallish room, but not by European standards. The bathroom was a bit cramped, but again, not for Europe. We settled in and opted to go out and give London a try.

We walked around South Kensington a bit and found a place called Costa (we later find out it's a chain) where I had a delicious cappuccino and my wife had her usual herbal tea. We strolled around some more in a charming district full of little shops and lively bustling street activity.

Armed with a list of dining recommendations gathered mostly from Chowhound.com, we headed for Mohsen, an Iranian restaurant nearby. We got sidetracked by the sight of the gigantic Tesco supermarket and took a detour inside. To our amazement, it was beautiful, far surpassing any shopping experience we'd ever had in the States. As a graphic designer, I could appreciate the slick product packaging and store signage. We ambled about for 15 minutes or so in total awe and headed back out to find Mohsen.

Clueless as to where our restaurants were for the entire trip (had addresses, but failed to print out directions!), we asked locals and always found a helpful person willing to aid us. Sure enough, with a gentle downpour and our flat-pack umbrella out, we found Mohsen and went in. It was mostly empty, but that didn't deter us, I had expert Chowhound advice on this place. We dined on amazing flat bread rolled around fresh veggies, hummus, tender kebabs, rice and a wonderfully spicy Persian tea.

We walked back and exhausted from the day, called it a night after a little "Shock and Awe" on Sky News. We "monitored" the war via Sky every day in London and tried to keep as informed as possible.

Wednesday, April 2nd
Woke up, hunted for some coffee and then headed out for the British Museum. Hungry, I spotted some happy looking people dining in a cafe/bar at the ultra-hip Bloomsbury MyHotel. Went in and were treated to a relatively inexpensive and very tasty breakfast.

Found the British Museum and admired the Asian collections, Egyptian artifacts, money exhibit and the gigantic American Indian Totem pole. Was entranced with the central courtyard, which until recently was outdoors and now covered by a massive steel and glass roof that let in the sun poking through the semi-stormy London clouds.

For lunch, another Chowhound rec at Fryer's Delight, a fish and chips shop adored by London cabbies who descend on it in the wee hours. We ate cod and chips at a cafeteria table style arrangement (something we weren't accustomed to). We struck up a fascinating conversation with the gentleman eating next to us and found we had much in common with him. A funky little place, but a true slice of London life.

We headed for Neal St. and Neal's Yard for shopping on cobblestone pedestrian alleys, which I discovered can take a toll on the feet. I am not much of a "walker", so my feet were really getting sore. With a modicum of rain, we headed south and ended up taking shelter at the cafe of the Transport Museum, where we enjoyed coffee and tea while waiting out the weather.

Back out again, we went up to Carnaby Street and Oxford Street via Picadilly Circus and Leicester Square. More nice shops on Carnaby, but a little more fashion oriented and on the hip tip. We found it well worth the visit to this former trend-defining locale of the 60's.

Went back to the hotel and rested for a bit before going back out again to see Chitty Chitty Bang Bang at the Palladium. Upon arrival, we discover our seats had been upgraded (a nice surprise!). Chitty left us completely awestruck! A fantastic play with the supremely talented Michael Ball in the lead, not to mention the flying car! Loads of fun and very suitable for children and adults alike. I loved the movie as a child and now the play as an adult. Great, great fun.

Afterwards, we found Masala Zone, a hip and affordable Indian restaurant with delicious food (get a Thali plate). The service was a little spotty, but not bad overall. A good spot for post theatre dining.

Thursday, April 3rd
Started off at Westminister Abbey, admiring the incredible edifice and chapels inside. Found it remarkable that buildings of such grandeur could be created so long ago with such limited resources available.

Across the street from Houses of Parliament, a few war protesters were camped out with banners, incense and candles burning. Realizing my itinerary for the day wasn't realistic, we decided to skip St. Martin's and headed to Houses of Parliament where we found the queue to go into the House of Commons and hear the pundits debate the issues of the day. An Italian couple walked right in front of us in line and I waited for them to move. After awhile, I politely asked the man if he wanted to wait in line. He shrugged and I said the end of the line was back there, pointing to it. They didn't budge. I told them we had been waiting for half an hour. They didn't move. Then I remember when we were in Rome, someone had mentioned that Italians don't wait in line. They sort of just crowd around in front. I gave up and the couple went in line behind us. Oh well. When in Rome, oh wait, this is London! Never mind.

Went in and heard some lively political debate and then proceeded to the House of Lords for a slight variation on the theme. Interesting for a good 20 minutes or so. Then it was time to move on.

Walked over to the London Eye and had lunch at the Costa stand outside. It was just nice enough outside to enjoy a semi-sunny London afternoon. Went into the Eye ticket office and after a short wait, got tickets and virtually walked right onto the Eye (perhaps wartime contributed to the short wait). Stunning vistas of London followed on a slowly revolving trip of about 30 minutes. Very entertaining and a must for visitors!

Then, it was off to the Cabinet War Rooms for a highly fascinating view of Churchill's wartime underground command center. They had just recently opened the Churchills' private living quarters, so our timing was perfect.

Since my itinerary was pretty much tossed out for this day, we had nowhere set to eat dinner. We walked around South Kensington and stumbled across an Italian place called Dino's (a local chain) next to a tube station. My wife suggested we look for another place, but my stomach was saying find something now. Should have listened to my wife. Dino's was horrendous. One of the worst meals we've ever had. Just a complete waste of time and money. We had to go have dessert elsewhere to wash it away as quickly as possible.

Friday, April 4th
Our last day in London before heading to Paris started off at the Tower of London. We bought tickets at the tube station, but found out we didn't really need to. There was no line at the ticket office and we walked right up and joined a Beefeater tour (highly recommended!). Our Beefeater (tour guide and royal security guard rolled into one) was very funny and provided deep insight into the formidable history of the place.

We then ventured into the Crown Jewels exhibit, where something wonderful happened. We were looking at a case, which housed a golden spoon and an fowl-topped container of sorts. My wife asked me the simple question "what's the spoon for?" Instead of doing what everyone else was doing and wandering through with little insight into the history of these objects, I noticed a Beefeater standing by the door and walked over to him. I told him my wife had a question. He responded, somewhat surprised, that people rarely ask him about the objects on display. He came over and started to tell us that it was for the Queen to eat her breakfast with. Slightly laughing, he almost had us until he launched into a highly detailed history of the Anointing Spoon and Ampulla, explaining their use in the Coronation ceremonies and how they came to be. Very fascinating. People crowded around to listen, but he was talking directly to us, so they could hardly hear him. I wanted to tell them to move in or him to talk louder, but we were so enthralled with his profound knowledge, I didn't want to break in.

Walked across Tower Bridge and headed for Borough Market, a Friday-only food lover's paradise where delicacies and high-quality foodstuffs of all kinds are to be had. Stalls serving up delicious lunch fare were packed with throngs on hungry Londoners and tourists alike. We had Ostrich sandwiches. Sampled fantastic cheeses, olives and meats as well.

Off to the Design Museum in Southwark, a must-see for me. We viewed some amazing displays of creative achievement, including a top-notch exhibit of the groundbreaking Italian design firm Superstudio. Also, an inspiring showcase of work from legendary shoe designer Manolo Blahnik.

Then it was off to the Tate Modern museum for more stunning artwork. The building itself is a former power plant and still has some of the original machinery intact. The centerpiece inside is a gigantic red tube-like that dwarfs human scale. Like a cornucopia from another planet, it spanned the width of this monolithic temple to art moderne.

Robert Smithson's film Spiral Jetty, a little slow and long for most, unraveled an incredible engineering and artistic feat from 1970. Huge Rothko murals were on display, as well as works from Jackson Pollack and pieces from masters like Picasso, Rodin and Matisse. The fascinating Cold Dark Matter from Cornelia Parker shopped us in our tracks and left me dumbfounded.

We had dinner at Tas, a Turkish restaurant that is a truly exceptional dining experience. Not only will the atmosphere and decor whisk you away to another world, the food will stun you into gastronomic submission. Truly remarkable. Thank you Chowhounds!

Saturday, April 5th
We arrived at Waterloo excited about traveling aboard the Eurostar train to Paris. The second phase of our trip was about to unfold. We boarded, unloaded our extensive array of luggage and plopped down in our seats. An uneventful, fast and scenic trip ensued, with a surprisingly short part of it (only 20 minutes) devoted to the Chunnel portion.

Arrived in Paris, where we disembark and begin to make sense of this new world with a new language we barely understood. First order of business was finding a bathroom, which I neglected to use on the train. I didn't understand the concept of the pay toilet and found it extremely difficult to locate one. But wait, I needed Euros. With no ATMs to be found in the station, I darted across the street, where I asked a local where I could find a cash machine. My first encounter with a Parisian, as almost all encounters was pleasant. I loaded up on Euros and used the pay facilities in the station. All was well.

We found a cab and hopped in. One problem, I lost the address for the hotel. Ouch! I knew the name, but that wasn't enough. The cabbie tried to locate it. No luck. I knew it was near the Jardin du Luxembourg. I suggested we go there. Then it dawned on me to look in my Paris guidebook. What luck! The hotel was listed! We arrived and then it was time to pay the cabbie. He tacked on an additional 3 Euros for a luggage charge. I was incensed as I thought I was being ripped off, but reluctantly paid up.

The hotel was clean and pleasant looking and the room followed suit. It was small, but at 70 Euros a night, who could complain? The views were nice from the windows and the hotel was situated in a plaza next to the Odeon Europe Theatre, hence the hotel being named Hotel Michelet Odeon. The staff was helpful and mostly friendly, but the maid service was spotty and on two occasions we had to ask for toilet paper.

Headed out for the Pantheon, but alas, it was closed. We were only minutes late. Oh well. Walked through the Jardin du Luxembourg and watched people enjoying the sun. The weather was mostly sunny and somewhat chilly during our stay.

Through the help of friendly Parisians, we found our restaurant, La Marlotte, which was exceptional in every way, especially the helpful English-speaking waiter who was very patient with us. After dinner, we walked around the Latin Quartier a bit and took in the inviting pedestrian friendly walkways.

Sunday, April 6th
Pompidou was first on the list as there was a Phillipe Starck exhibit I wanted to see. It turned out to be a multimedia exhibit, which I found a bit disappointing as I wanted to view his works on display. Oh well. Not intending to see much of this museum, we were mostly there for Starck and Georges restaurant on the top floor. Here I committed my first language faux pas. I asked some fashionably young employees where Georges was (I pronounced like the George in George Washington). They giggled and mocked me. One said, "Yes, the two Georges." Oh well, I knew I'd slip sooner or later. OK, so it's pronounced "joor-jay." How was I to know? Felt a bit like Homer Simpson at that point.

Anyway, the restaurant was gorgeous to look at. Sweeping views and groovy silver pods with yellow and red interiors. It's real eye candy. Oh yeah, and the food was pretty good too.

Next up was Saint Chapelle, a marvel of stained glass. With the sun beaming in through the panes of multi-colored windows, it felt like a religious experience. This is a must visit for anyone coming to Paris. It is a true architectural wonder and can be visited in a short time on the way to Notre Dame, which was, of course, our next stop.

We climbed Notre Dame's imposing towers, which was no easy feet...er..uh...feat. Not recommended for anyone that doesn't want to climb hundreds of stairs. The views, however, were rewarding, with grand vistas of the city from several angles as the famous gargoyles watch over. The giant bell at the top is worth a quick look. One wonders how they got it up there.

Being a Sunday, we managed to catch Mass, which was an extraordinary sight. The organ music was beautiful and boomed throughout the cathedral.

That night, we dined at Brasserie Balzar, a local institution. There seemed to be quite a few other Americans there as well. The food was decent, but not remarkable. The upside is that they are open late, which served us well as the midnight hour was fast approaching.

Monday, April 7th
It's an all-day Louvre marathon and wow, what an enormous place. Highlights included the Italian renaissance paintings, the Islamic section, Napoleon's apartment, the Louvre history and the basement where some of the original walls remain. My wife and I got separated for a half-hour or so as we wandered in different directions, so we adopted a meeting plan after we found each other. The plan being meet in the last place we saw each other. Sounded good anyway.

Had lunch in the museum's cafe and sat next to a very nice French family, one of who lived in London for 40 years and had an English accent. The young son was learning English, so we taught him a few words. I had an American quarter and gave it to him for fun. He seemed fascinated with us, which was amusing. Oh, and the food was great for steam table fare.

Later, we wanted to take the Vedettes du Pont Neuf night cruise along the Seine. Sitting in the somewhat noisy boat with a tour guide who's accent was so thick we couldn't understand what he was saying, we took in the lit-up banks of the river and the illuminated Paris behind them.

That night we dined at Vagende, an old-world type establishment with menus in both French and English. Americans seemed to like this place too as there were plenty of us on hand. The meal was good, but nothing special and the service typically slow as most places are. Halfway through our meal, a French couple sat down, with the man facing me. They used the word "Americain" all too often I thought and occasionally glared at us. It really unnerved me and I wanted to leave. This was my only negative experience, well, other than one more I'll mention later. Otherwise, the French people were very nice to us.

Tuesday, April 8th
Musee d'Orsay is in a beautifully ornate building which was formerly a train station. It houses an impressive collection of works including Manet, Degas, Van Gogh, Rodin and Renoir. Could have easily spent the whole day there. Worked our way through it at a somewhat relaxed pace. We missed quite a few things, but managed to see the more notable works.

Then it was time to head over to the Rue Cler market to pick up items for lunch on the Champs du Mars in front of the Eiffel Tower. We found an amazing meat and cheese shop (don't know the name) and picked up some pate, cold cuts, baguettes, water and cheese. Fortunately for us it was a sunny, warm day as we ate lunch with the Eiffel Tower as our backdrop. The scene was lively as children played, people sunbathed and soaked in the warmth on park benches. It was tres bien indeed!

We then walked the Champs du Mars towards the Eiffel Tower and waited in a fairly short line for tickets. Rode up the elevators and enjoyed breathtaking crystal clear views of the city from different vantage points on the Tower. Mailed off a postcard from the Post Office and had an espresso in the cafe.

Since we couldn't find our restaurant choice for the evening, we opened up the guidebook and found Brasserie I'lle Saint Louis. Sounded like fun. A working class joint with good fare, including a memorable pig's knuckle with sauerkraut and mustard. The piece de resistance however was the amazing Tarte Tatin with Creme Fraiche dessert. We would spend the rest of our trip trying to find a reasonable duplicate and could not. I'lle's was extraordinarily good!

Wednesday, April 9th
Ventured out to La Defense for architectural wonders in the 21st arrondissement. A long-ish metro trip landed us in a huge, unattractive indoor mall at the station's exit. We walked outside to view the Arc. The Arc is a huge office building structure with no center. It is basically a square arch. I found it interesting, but hardly worth the trip. We walked around a bit and moved on, unimpressed.

On to a quick look at the Arc de Triumph and a stroll down the Champs Elysees. My wife was excited about the promise of shopping here, but it seemed rather disappointing really. She went into a few stores while I sat outside and smoked cigars, watching the world go by.

Walked down Champs Elysees to the park area after all the ritzy shops. Got on the Metro and headed for Galleries Lafayette, where my wife got her nails done and we soaked in all the French fashion couture and not-so-couture. At this point, I was exhausted, my feet were aching something wicked. My wife was gung-ho, however, so I did my best under the circumstances. This was a whirlwind, no lounging in cafes all-day trip.

We were hungry and since the spot I chose for lunch was too far away, we scouted potential spots. We went into a chain called Hippo or something like that and got scared off when we sat down by the menu. It looked so pedestrian. We were in France! We wanted cuisine, not fast food.

After having enough weather shower down on us, we went back to the hotel to refresh and look for somewhere local to eat. I'd heard of Polidor before, so we went in and sat down. The place was small and rustic, with long tables for dining. The meal was affordable and decent, but nothing to write home about. The Tarte Tatin didn't hold a candle to I'lle Saint Louis'.

For dinner, we looked high and low for Chez Catherine, which we discovered didn't exist anymore, so we opted to try something out of my handy Lonely Planet guidebook, which we discovered upon arriving at Montmartre. L'Auberge du Clou wasn't too hard to find with the helpful advice of friendly Parisians for the umpteeth time. Talk about shattering stereotypes! Dinner was splendid and off we went to the Sacre Coeur. Taking another cue from the book and doing a walk, we ambled past the busloads of Japanese businessmen and tourists gawking at Moulin Rouge. Continuing up into the very scenic hillside community, former home of Van Gogh and on to the Sacre Coeur itself proved to be a nice little after dinner hike and offered stunning vistas of Paris and clusters of teenagers hanging out on the steps smoking, playing guitar and socializing.

Opting to take the Funicular instead of the thousands of steps back down was a good idea as we watched couples struggle to walk up. Made our way back to the Metro and back to the Michelet Odeon for some well-earned sleep.

Thursday, April 10th
Damp and dreary looking outside, I'm glad I bought that flat-pack umbrella. Coming out of the Metro station by Pere-Lachaise cemetery, it was only a matter of minutes before scattered drops turned to a steady rain.

We walked around aimlessly and wished we had a map detailing who was buried where. I wanted to visit Chopin's tomb, but couldn't find him. We ended only seeing Jim Morrison's grave as someone pointed it out for us, but missed Oscar Wilde and a host of others. It's worth a visit as it is a vast place you could easily get lost in. A nice break from the city commotion, though of course a bit macabre.

For lunch, we found a spot near the cemetery where we had wonderful Croque Monsieurs, salads and espressos. The name eludes me, but it was very close to the Metro on a busy corner.

Next up was the mysterious Catacombs. We decided to walk from the hotel, which was a mistake due to the rain and uninteresting scenery. Taking the Metro would have been a much better idea. Good thing I'd forgotten what the Catacombs were. As we entered, we didn't know what we were about to see and were shocked when we first stumbled upon the thousands of skeletal remains stacked like produce in a supermarket. A truly fascinating and macabre place. Seeing walls, street signs and parts of a church so far underground was unnerving and made me think about what might have happened and what people had to go through during that time.

Later that night again without a dinner choice, we tried our own neighborhood and came across a delightful back alley of restaurants just west of us somewhere in St. Germain. We anguished over our choices until we decided on Brasserie Fernand, which turned out to be a fantastic and reasonably-priced dinner spot. The long tables provided us the opportunity to get into a conversation with another American couple seated next to us. They were well-to-do and found our tales of traveling the Metro to be absolutely horrifying, particularly since I'd been near-mugged that very day in an incident where one man distracted me by pulling on my pant leg, while the other went into my bag. Panicked, I jumped off the train when the potential muggers threw their hands up and walked off. Getting back on the train, in typical hands-off French style, a man said "Monsieur, your bag is open." Sure enough, I looked down and the front pocket of my travel bag was unzipped, though nothing was missing. Whew!

I did, however, continue to ride the Metro and will again. That was an isolated incident and as I told my wife earlier that day, I thought I was getting "sloppy", security-wise. I don't let fear run me, so I just chalked it up to being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I was actually much more afraid when we were leaving Los Angeles in the Shuttle Bus and someone cut us off on the freeway. Now there's a real life or death situation.

Friday, April 11th
Our last morning in Paris. We had a little breakfast of croissants and coffee and then I went outside to find a cab. Getting nervous as our Eurostar train departure time was nearing, I told the lady at the front desk to call a cab. She did. he arrived, we got in and again, I got ripped off when I discover there is a 6 Euro charge for having the cab sent. Words of caution, try to get everything straight with the cabbie up front. They also charge you for luggage whether you or they stuff it in the trunk.

Finally on Eurostar, we speed back for Britain and I feel somewhat comforted knowing we are going back to an English-speaking country. Arriving in London, we are now faced with making a quick trip over to Euston for our Virgin Express train up to Preston to meet my British father who resides in St. Annes with his wife Fabian and their wonderful dog Molly.

After a long trip due to countless delays and foreign objects on the tracks, we met Dad, who was waiting for us at the train station. He sped us off to St. Anne's, where we settled in at their house over tea and CNN. Dad and I then drove up to pick up my rental car, a spiffy little European right-side drive Ford number.

Saturday, April 12th
We all got up early and Fabian drove us down to Wales for the day. Beautiful mountain scenery, waterfalls, castles and villages were the order of the day. Stopped on the side of road for pictures with arrogant Welsh sheep, who turned their noses at the notion of being photographed with us mere humans. We arrived too late to see Caernarfon Castle, but it was OK. We were fine with wherever we ended up. Our trip was already incredible, so were content at that point.

Back to St. Anne's for another trip to Tesco and some take-home meals. Not bad. Boy, we sure do love those English supermarkets. American ones seem so vanilla after that. Makes me want to open up a chain of British markets in the States.

Sunday, April 13th
Got up and drove the rental towards the Lake District. Driving on the other side of the road and car wasn't so hard, but remembering which side to get in was. I kept going in on the passenger side to drive. Oh well. Upon arriving in the Lake District, we found our B&B, the nicely appointed Archway in Windermere situated across from the castle-like place across the road. Our hosts, Jonathan and Sarah, a somewhat stiff, but courteous Christian couple, gave us the run-down of the place and directed us to the room, which was large and had lots of light streaming in. We unpacked and walked around Windermere, a lovely little town much quieter than the touristy Bowness-on-Windermere down the road.

Then it was down to touristy Bowness, where I had my first encounter with Pay and Display parking. We caught a ride on a boat making a loop to Ambleside and back. The lake views were hauntingly beautiful as it was a little overcast and had a spooky and imagination-sparking atmosphere. Arriving in Ambleside, we strolled around, though couldn't walk up to the town for fear of missing the last boat back. We had Costa coffee and caught a little sun as it shone through the cloudy day. My wife bought some duck feed and discovered a newfound love. That's right, feeding ducks. She loves feeding those ducks.

We had a sandwich and coffee at the Lighthouse, an appealing place with unpredictable hours. Later, we had dinner at Jambo, which I confused with the Jumble Room I had on a list of restaurants that I forgot to bring. Jambo was fine, however, and was tasty enough to leave us satisfied.

Monday, April 14th
Had our first breakfast at the B&B, which consisted of locally-supplied eggs, sausage, bacon and toast. Can't leave out Black Pudding, which I found to taste like Plaster of Paris. My wife, however, liked it quite a bit and ordered it a couple of more times on following days. This morning, she ordered kippers, a salty but delicious smoked fish that goes nicely on brown (wheat) toast. The word brown would also appear as a sauce alongside ketchup, though I could never quite figure out what is was. Perhaps a vinegary steak sauce?

A freak heat-wave was coming through Britain, so we were able to enjoy crystal-blue skies and temps in the 70's all day and most of the week. I think we were being rewarded for enduring rain and chilly temps back in Paris.

Back down at the lake, we rented a little motor-driven boat that reeked of gas when sitting in the cockpit. I resorted to standing up, but it was kind of fun as I imagined myself as the tour guide on the Jungle Cruise at Disneyland. When we returned, my wife bought duck feed and had a close encounter with one particularly aggressive swan that was practically stealing it out of her hand!

For dinner, we went to Prince of India and had a feast. The usual Naan, rice and kebabs did the trick, proving average if not a little better than.

Tuesday, April 15th
Jonathan suggested we drive around to get familiar with the area, so we drove up to Ambleside, then Keswick, which is a cute and touristy town up the highway 15 or so miles. Walked around, window-shopped, had coffee and tea. While walking, we came across a point where the sidewalk almost vanished and I slipped, crashing to the ground, camera and all. Fortunately, I only had some minor scrapes on my knee. Apparently, the storekeeper across the street who rushed across the street to check on me said that a local woman very familiar with the area fell and broke her arm in that exact spot just the week before. OK, well, now I didn't feel so clumsy. The poor woman, I thought.

We found a spot to get a bite to eat at the Lakeland Pedlar, a whole food cafe and bicycle centre. Turned out to be a vegetarian place, but didn't matter much to us as we like to eat healthy food on occasion. You can only eat so much artery-clogging fish and chips, you know.

Following lunch, we drove up to Castle Stone Rigg, a Stonehenge-like circle of monolithic rocks atop a high hill overlooking a vast valley enclosed by a picturesque range of mountains. We oomed a little (just kidding) and made our way to go horseback riding near Troutbeck. Unfortunately, they were booked solid for the week, so we drove our little Ford down the dusty dirt road and up to Townend.

A very old hillside community, Troutbeck is home to Townend, a well-preserved house lived in by one family for hundreds of years. The Brownes, who lived there, were a well-off yeoman farming family, who meticulously created hand-carved furniture that in some cases compensates for the angled floor by having one leg longer than the other. A fascinating site run by the National Trust, an organization I gained a lot of respect for by the way they present themselves and the handling of their properties.

For dinner, we went on a recommendation from Jonathan to a gastropub up the road called The Lamp Lighter. For appetizers, we had the Local Potted Shrimps, a strange, muddy-colored dish that didn't appeal much to me. For the main course, my wife had a mouth-watering, legendary Cod and Chips, which I wished I'd ordered as my Whole Trout was very good, but not great. Topped it off with a double espresso.

Wednesday, April 16th
Drove up to Hadrian's Wall for the day. A little confused on the exact location of the wall, we stopped first in Carlisle, which has a Roman fort, but no wall. We asked a nice lady in the gift shop and she directed us to Birdoswald Roman fort on the wall, which has a cheesy exhibit, but great grounds and a long section of wall to walk along.

Then, we made our way to Housesteads, a National Trust run site that we didn't see much of due to time constraints. There was a huge hill to walk up and we were too tired to bother, although I now wish we had. At the top are incredible views and the best preserved example of a Roman fort along the wall. Our loss.

Back in Windermere, we dined at an Italian restaurant called Roberto's, which was very good, especially the bread.

Afterwards, I wanted to catch a bit of the semi-final Football match between Manchester United and Arsenal. The pub we went into was jam-packed. It was impossible to see anything. We gave up and went back to the room. I thought I could watch it on TV, but couldn't get the station. Oh well, watched some comedy show and dozed off.

Thursday, April 17th
Our last day in the Lake District, we didn't want to miss Hill Top, home of Beatrix Potter. With Easter quickly approaching, it seemed apropos, though to our dismay, we discovered it was closed Thursdays and Fridays. How dare they? Oh well, it gave us a nice opportunity to explore the other, less-traveled side of the lake. We found a quiet, riverside area to stop at where my wife fed the ducks, her new favorite hobby. These ducks apparently weren't as accustomed to the ducks she'd encountered and didn't seem to care. Either that or that had just eaten.

We left the Lake District and drove back to Blackpool to return the car. Unfortunately, I didn't have specific directions, so I had to wing it. I recognized the Avis car rental my Dad had passed when we went to pick up the car, so I knew I was close, but that didn't seem to matter once as we went around in what seemed like circles. Then, we finally found the Budget rental place, but oops, gas! We needed to fill the tank.

Another hunt was on and it seemed futile and we drove in every direction looking for that elusive petrol. Finally, we found a BP and I went in. I handed my VISA to the lady at the counter and told her I wanted a fill-up on Number 1. She handed me a bill and I signed it. Wait! This seemed odd. I looked at the receipt and it was for 58 Pounds! I hadn't even filled up yet. The lady said "Number 2, right?" I said "no" as a woman came in and looked at her receipt in my hands with my signature on it. Oops!

After much confusion and waiting, I got my gas. By now, I was so flustered that I forgot where the car rental place was again and had to drive around again for eons before finding it. Alas, we drop the car off and wait for Dad.

Back at the house, we play with Dad and Fabian's dog Molly, who is a delightful little curly-haired thing. Molly spastically runs around and plays catch with you. Molly has a toy that when it is in her mouth, she chases around her ball as if playing soccer (er..Football in England). It's the cutest thing we'd ever seen. Ever. Molly also loved the Harry Potter movies we watched, especially during the game sequences. She flop around trying to catch the objects flying around on screen. Just incredible. The funniest thing I've ever seen. Ever.

Dad and Fabian had bought us mugs they gave us when we first arrived. One yellow and one blue. Since my wife has a better tan than I, she got the blue one. I guess I'm yellow. That's OK, I don't mind being yellow. I really don't.

Our last night in St. Anne's we walked down to the boardwalk and explored. We found an arcade and played some video games. We walked outside and took in the seaside air and fairly warm day.

Friday, April 18th
Dad and Fabian drove us down to the Cotswolds for the day to see where they used to live in Bourton-on-the-Water. Very touristy, yet wonderfully quaint village on a little river with cute little bridges and shops. A warm, fuzzy kind of place that made me feel as if I was on the Storybook ride at Disneyland. I don't know why very real European places made me think of the very faux imagined world of Disneyland, but so be it. I'll leave the psycho-analysis up to a professional.

We visited Stow-on-the-Wold and places with similarly silly-sounding names. We made up some of our own. Just darn silly, I tell you. We arrived at the train station and waited for our ride back to London. Unfortunately, Paddington Station was closed for repairs over the Easter weekend, so we'd have to go to Ealing, which basically just translated into a slightly longer cab ride. It should be mentioned that this ride was cheaper as the cabbie took us straight to the hotel with no intended shiftiness.

Back in London now, I had planned for us to go on a cruise down the Thames that evening, but we ended up strolling around Soho, considering going to a club I had heard good things about. My wife was feeling tired, so we just looked for a place to eat instead. I remembered the name Satsuma from a Chowhound thread talking about the wave of trendy noodle shops in London. It looked inviting with its young and good-looking crowd and cafeteria-style dining tables (again!). We went in and had nice meal for a nice price. The Bento boxes are the way to go or at least they were for us.

Saturday, April 19th
We could feel the trip sadly coming to a close as we rode the tube up to Portobello Road to visit the market. After a good cup of coffee at Coffee Republic, we marched to the Portobello Road market, following the throngs of shoppers. What a sight to behold, miles of charming stores fronted by an endless variety of stalls selling everything under the sun.Yes, even I enjoyed this kind of shopping and was eager to see it all.

As we progressed through the mayhem (it was Easter weekend), I noticed the types of goods being sold changed. Moving from collectibles to antiques to produce to clothing, etc. Very well organized market. Nothing I've seen compares. It's really spectacular.

For lunch, we found a spot called Uncle's. I picked it because it reminded me of those healthy-oriented breakfast joints found in the Haight-Ashbury district of San Francisco. Sure enough, it was quite similar. Very good food at reasonable prices and fast!

Later on, we headed out for a mini-shopping spree at Selfridge's, where I developed those aching feet again while my wife went dashing through the fashion wilderness. A vast store, it caters to every imaginable fashion taste desired, from surf wear to haute couture suits. My wife wanted to spend a lot more time in the store than I had patience for. I have a ceiling for shopping sometimes that gets low quickly. My wife gets frustrated with me and it's totally understandable. I guess I wouldn't want to go shopping with me either.

Bypassing afternoon tea and Madame Tussaud's, we altered our itinerary to go see a play that evening instead. Making our way through rainy Leicester Square, we located a half-price ticket broker with a few plays to choose from, most starting in less than an hour. We choose Lion King and snapped up our cheap tickets. Walked hurriedly towards the theater, asking directions along the way. Finally there, we went inside only to find our seats were in the very last row of the highest balcony. Oh well, that's what we get for showing up a half-hour before show time.

It was an enjoyable play, but would have been much better from closer seats. We still thought Chitty was superior by far. Afterwards, we wanted something to eat and spotted Livebait, a seafood place I'd read about somewhere. Ducking in out of the rain, we walked in and sat down. The meal wasn't anything special and my lobster was on the lukewarm side when I received it. Nonetheless, it was a decent late-night option and close to the theatre.