First Ride on the Piccadilly Line

LONDON
Trivia note--we learned from Bill Bryson’s biography of Shakespeare that “piccadilly” is actually a kind of high stiff collar worn by men of the 17th century. . .

Lily and I were riding the Tube (the London Underground) around midnight last night on our way to our rented house in Wood Green, desperate to arrive before our landlord’s former student Mansour gave up on us. We were supposed to arrive at about noon, but our flight in Montreal was suddenly and inexplicably cancelled leading to all sorts of transport adventures: staying overnight at a hotel along with several other stranded passengers, having to re-check our luggage the next morning for our re-scheduled flight only to be charged for an extra bag (at SFO the agent let us get away with a pound or two—or three or four--over the limit), and waiting in an interminable line to have our passports checked on our arrival at Heathrow (luckily, we stood in line with some of the same friendly Canadian passengers who swapped travel stories and jokes with us).

It was actually a relief to drag our heavy, bulging bags into the underground car and sit down to swipe our sweaty brows.  Lily began careful observation of all the passengers while I counted the number of stops to our destination—thirty! It took about an hour and 15 minutes—what a deal for a 5 pound fee!

The main challenge of the night was dragging our suitcases up the staircase at the Turnpike Lane Underground stop then walking along Westbury Avenue for a long half mile to our house on Boundary Road. Kind Mansour was awake and waiting for us and not only welcomed us and gave us a tour of the house but took me out to buy chocolate

croissants the next morning—and treated us. Lily and I love the house—it’s indeed tiny compared to American suburban homes, but along with high ceilings the white walls and Persian carpets make the ground floor feel spacious. It looks out on a lovely little garden that I guess we don’t even need to water.


Today we’ve accomplished several errands including visiting AIFS’s Dilke House where I’ll be working/teaching; buying groceries, exploring the Russell Square/Tottenham Road neighborhood, “topping up” our pay-as-you-go cellphones, and unpacking of course. Somehow the day disappears and we haven’t had a chance to go near a museum or touch our email. Just getting to and fro places in a big city takes time (about 40 minutes door to door to AIFS). Tomorrow we’re going back to Russell Square for an orientation and hopefully we’ll have a chance to pop into the British Museum while we’re in the vicinity.

Beth

Funky Fashions

LONDON
In the weeks leading up to our departure I started to have some trouble sleeping. Not only did I have a lot going on around me, but the gears in my brain were working over time as well. As I lay in bed I would do trial packs in my head. Each item had to have multiple uses, and it had to go with as many other items as possible. I must have come up with hundreds of combinations before narrowing it down to the smallest, most versatile, and most coordinated wardrobe I could manage.

Now that I am in London, and I've already spent ample time on the tube and walking the streets, I realize that the last qualification on my list (coordinated) screams "American!!!" Everyone here dresses quirkily, sort of as though they purposefully dressed in the dark. It works though, and it's wonderful entertainment on the Tube.

Take shoes for example. Almost everyone in the Bay Area wears Vans, Converse, or one of a few brands of similar tennis shoes. In the UK women wear narrow lace-up leather walking shoes (some with lace stripes), sling-backed sandals, or lace-up boots in shocking hues with fuzzy insides. The men wear mostly very long, thin dress shoes, either with or without a point at the end.

The color combinations are also striking. Many people wear black and brown together. Young women wear shorts, dresses, or skirts with stockings underneath. Lots of people wear flowers and stripes together. One woman I saw on the Tube today had a red cocktail dress on with orange suede pumps. Another woman last night was wearing a white cardigan over a white, orangey-red, and blue striped dress, black stockings, brown saddle shoes, and a blue and white striped bag.

Tonight as I lie in bed I will be busy coming up with as many funky combinations as I can using my perfectly thought-out and coordinated wardrobe. Oh well!

Lily

Packing

SAN CARLOS, CA
Unfortunately, we are not wizards like Harry Potter. If we were, then we could have just cast the spell "pack" and all the things we needed would be neatly folded in our suitcase (as done in the 5th book by Tonks with Harry's school trunk).  Anyway, the "muggle style" packing sensation is sweeping the  Har Har household, in more ways than one. Firstly, we had to pack up all our personal items and put them in boxes in the basement for the renters. This also spurred an enormous household cleanup day where my dad revealed all the things about the house that bothered him since we moved in (several of these things I had never even noticed). Once the stained wall patches had been repainted and the paintings hung up in their correct positions, we packed up our rooms and I was able to see 50% more floor space in my room than I had in many years.

The second aspect of packing is the clothes, books and necessity packing.  Each of us has a uniquely colored duffel or under the plane bag and a smaller carry on roller bag as well as a personal backpack or purse. All of us have our own lists and we go about them in different ways. My mom's consists of a table of different categories listing the exact amount of clothing in each one. My dad's is an excel spreadsheet that probably has some mathematical formula wired into it although I haven't checked.  My sister's is similar to my mom's except saying that she will bring 5 shirts but somehow ending up with 10. My packing list is just a plain list but I do have similar tactics of my sister's. All in all, we will be constantly re-organizing our bags until we officially move out of the house on Wednesday.

Abby

The Pink Paper

LONDON
One of the "anthropological studies" we did to prepare ourselves for our trip was getting a month-long subscription to the Financial Times (a London-based paper) in addition our usual New York Times. Each morning I would compare the front pages, and read articles on the same subject from both papers. Here were some of my observations on the coverage of the London riots:

Financial Times:

• front page articles and pictures
• article about the effect on the Olympics
• focus on the need to recall parliament again
• criticized the prime minister's actions
• reported fewer people (than NYT) arrested after the first day

New York Times:

• front page articles and pictures
• reported more people arrested after the first day than FT did
• talked about the Egyptian's take on the riots
• speculating about the cause of the looting to be austerity and anger towards police

Overall, I didn't notice many drastic differences between the two papers. The FT was pink, a bit of a shock each morning, but the writing was similar. Both newspapers were globally-focused, each with an emphasis on its own country. The NYT reviewed Broadway and had many human interest stories, whereas the FT featured the West End and stock market crashes.

Now that I'm familiar with one British paper, I'm looking forward to reading the others in London. Any recommendations on interesting publications (newspapers, magazines etc.)?

Lily