Boxing Day
Boxing Day morning brings news that the Tube strike that had been all over the media over the last few days was officially on, meaning we need to take a bus to the football match in Fulham. We check London Bus, and over cereal study the maps and routes before gathering our coats (and Rick in the Father Christmas hat) and boots and heading out to Victoria Station.
We know this is traditionally London shops’ busiest day; the Tube strike is bound to make for slow travel everywhere.
We stand outside Victoria Station and wait for the 11 bus to Fulham Broadway; mostly because of the information the app gave us, but also because we see people in West Ham colours obviously dressed for the grounds. The streets are packed with people, but only slightly more than previous days. The buses are packed as they arrive and empty quickly at this busy station. We swipe our Oyster cards and go upstairs where we find a seat.
We hop off the bus at the last stop of its route, and a quick glance at the GPS Map app shows we still have a ways to go. Nothing we can’t walk and still be on time to meet the lads. As we step off the bus and look at the phone a pair of male Chinese students ask if we can help them find Craven Cottage. Heading that way, we say they are welcome to join us for the long walk. We make small talk before ducking into a Nero Cafe for coffee and hot chocolate to warm us up. While we wait for our drinks, we sit down at a table where we learn they are huge Premiere League football fans, and primarily Manchester United supporters. They tell us they are trying to see as many matches as they can while on break from their classes. The orders ready, we continue on our way with our new friends.
At Putney Bridge we send text messages to Sharp, Tait, and Spahr. We quite literally bump into Sharp as we are all looking at our phones typing messages to each other. Warm greetings and introductions of our new friends to our old friend and we make our way to find Tait, Spahr and Charlie. Doing so, we’re on our way! The long walk through the park on the way to the grounds is covered in ice and we mind our steps as we chat and laugh. One of the students says he will always picture me as Father Christmas. When we get to the gates we say goodbye to the Chinese students, wishing them luck, and make our way to our seats. The queues at the refreshment stands are long and undefined. They also are having trouble with the hot water. No tea or coffee, making many in the crowd groan and swear. The hot dog is only filling.
The match gets underway and the home side start well, and are rewarded in the 11th minute when Hughes scores on a header. However, despite out-playing West Ham, the Cottagers make a few mistakes and combined with a brace from Carlton Cole. The final score is 3-1 to the Hammers. The walk out is slow as fans soak in the loss. Sitting in the middle of the relegation zone at Christmas is not something that was expected.
Once the crowd thins, we make our way over the Thames to The Boathouse for beers and crisps. We find a small table in a back room, away from the bar, and tell stories, catch up, and laugh, and laugh. We all leave together, hug and say goodbye. We make our way across the river to a bus stop and wait. We overhear a pair of drunk men who wonder aloud “who won the West Ham match?” I tell them the result and they cheer and start singing songs. The bus arrives and the songs go on. The men sing West Ham chants from the top of the bus and we smile from below at what we started.
The traffic is horrible and our bladders fill faster since the drinks at The Boathouse, so we hop off the bus somewhere along the line with lots of posh shops and fairy lights in the trees, but not one single place available to us. We wander around the square as quickly as possible thinking of our limited options when we find one of the self-cleaning public toilets to save the day! We hop back on the next bus to Victoria Station, jumping off a few blocks early to avoid the crowds. From here we walk the quiet neighbourhood streets and eventually to the flat. We eye the closed Cask & Kitchen and lament that it is not open at this moment.
Not seeing much else open, and after consulting with Smith via Twitter, we decide to head over to the Queen’s Arms. The same one where the MetaFilter meetup is scheduled tomorrow. A trial run for us, and a much needed meal. The place is very cozy, and our server Mike was witty and friendly, taking time to chat with us. We finish with the amazing sticky toffee, and I knew we would enjoy a return trip.
For now it is time to sleep, and save energy for the meetup. Thankfully the flat, and the bed, is only a few blocks away.
Christmas Day
We were a little tired this morning after the previous night’s events, so we didn’t get up to peek at abandoned London, which is what London looks like on Christmas Day morning. Instead we each had a bowl of cereal before Sarah got stuck in making the trifle and I attempted to do laundry in the flat. Attempted, because the tiny all-in-on washer and dryer doesn’t do what I expect of it. No matter how small a load, everything comes out damp and hot and far from what I would call dry. What was supposed to be a quick task quickly became a reason to worry about the clock and the timing of our departure for Jack’s place.
I think Sarah’s trifle looks great, but she worries about it. Working in an unfamiliar kitchen with unfamiliar equipment and materials always makes it a challenge to her, but she always does well. Even the plastic punchbowls we picked up at Sainsbury’s are doing a fine job in their roles as trifle bowls! We are each a little on edge as the clock clicks closer to the hired car arriving in front of the building at half two. It took a great deal of begging and negotiation on Jack’s to secure a car on Christmas Day for a reasonable rate of 25 quid. We have spotty reception in the flat and we did not want the driver to leave us behind.The car arrived a few minutes early, but we got the call. We rushed to gather the food, gifts, coats and anything else we could before running to the lift and out to the road. The drive from Pimlico to Tooting went by our windows quickly as London was closed for the national holiday. We were soon at Jack’s doorstep. Ann showed us where to put our coats and we made our way into the front room to meet their “German friend”, Al. We had been expecting a person who spoke German or at least English with a German accent, but instead it was an old mate of Jack’s from university who happened to be of German decent.
Ann brought Sarah a glass of red wine and a pint of bitter for me, along with some delicious canapes, and we sat down in front of the fireplace to get acquainted and reacquainted. Al put on his special winter mix of music which was made up of selections from Captain Beefheart, Del La Soul, Radiohead, Revered Horton Heat and even Snoop Dogg. Not your traditional holiday sounds!When the turkey was ready, we gathered at the table, pulled crackers, donned hats, and made very merry over a lovely meal. In addition to the bird, there was bread salad, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, and a tangy sauerkraut which our new German friend had brought.
After the meal we retired to the front room again, loosened our trousers (well, I did!), and tried to play a game far too complicated for the conditions. We decided to have pudding and try another game (Scruples) and had more than a few laughs. I am dubbed a “man of high moral caliber” making it easier for people to get points simply by asking me their questions.Drunk and happy, we reluctantly call the car hire service for our return trip before they close for the evening, and it arrives so quickly we barely have time to say proper goodbyes. In the backseat on the way back to the flat I follow along with Google Maps as we weave through the heart of the capital while we discuss the evening. To the taxi driver I mention the agreed upon fare of £25 and he fires back that it will be £37! I argue as politely as I can, but once we arrive at the flat I eventually bite through my lower lip and give exactly £37. The driver on the way to Tooting received a nice tip, but not this guy.
Exhausted, we brush our teeth, fall into bed and wish each other a happy Christmas.
Chris Mass Eve
Today ended up being about getting ready for Christmas, and the evening was spent much as it was three years previous, basking in the company and talents of Chris Mear. Thankfully we didn’t try to recreate that night’s drinking!
The morning’s first task was to find someplace to buy all the things needed to make the trifle for tomorrow’s Christmas dinner with Ann and Jack. Using the GPS in the iPhone and the general directions given to use the night before by Sophie, we decided to head to Victoria and see what any of the markets had to offer, before continuing toward the Belgravia Waitrose.
Along the way we entertained ourselves by counting the number of Mercedes and Jaguars we saw parked as we walked along the sidewalks of the neighbourhood embassies. The market was small but surprisingly had a large selection of everything from wine to produce. The staff did their best to make the bins look full, but the customers deftly moved around them to fill their carts as fast as they could restock. There were plenty of staff to help customers find items on their lists, and we were on our merry way within an hour. Our four reusable bags borrowed from the flat filled as full as we could manage for the long walk back.
We were rather hungry by the time we got back and unpacked the groceries, so we headed back out to see if anything was still open for lunch. We pushed on a few more blocks between Pimlico and Victoria, eventually locating a nice Mediterranean place named Kazan, which we chose mostly by the fact it had the most people inside it for a mid-afternoon, and then by the enticing menu posted in the window.
The staff were attentive and the food was delicious. We ate slowly savoring the wonderful spices, sipping from the red wines we selected. I was pleased with the Turkish wine, Yakut Rouge, I chose to go with my fire grill meat platter. The Turkish Delights delivered with the check may have been Sarah’s favourite though, and she asked a staff member for the name of the product. The guy returned with a piece of the cardboard box in which the double-roasted pistachio Güllüoglu brand candies were delivered.
We were told they were a popular brand, but we stopped by a half dozen newsagents on the way back and none appeared to have head of it. Once we got back to the flat I did some more research and it looked like we would be able to find Güllüoglu in the states, but knew we could just beg friends to ship them if the need arose.
After showering and freshening up we walked to Victoria Station to start our journey to Snaresbrook to meet up with Chris. The tube was packed with people getting in some last-minute shopping or making their way home for tomorrow’s holiday, when all transportation is closed. We stood for most of the trip, shuffling to one side or the other depending on which side’s doors were opening next, and taking in all the people. Some quietly staring ahead with their earbuds falling into a pocket or hand, others talking to their mates, many people laughing and smiling. The two teenage girls sharing a set of earbuds and singing along to a favourite pop song was hillarious.
We arrived at the Snaresbrook station about 5 minutes later than we were expected, but there was Chris Mear waiting with a car and that famous grin. We decided to try and find a pub serving food and walked to a few pubs near St. Mary’s Church, but they were all packed. The one that was marginally less packed, the Nag’s Head, is were we stopped for pints to assess the dinner situation. After reacquainting over beers, we returned to the car to drive to a tried-and-true favourite of Chris’ named Loon Yee.
We were seated by the window next to a group of 6 people having a good time. We ordered drinks and tea and tried to look at the menu while wanting to talk. We each picked a few appetizers and entrees, closed our menus and resumed catching up. The food came quickly and we tucked in. At one point a pair of young drunk guys came down the side walk singing and Sarah cheered them on through the window, only to be greeted with one of the fellas stopping and giving his willy some fresh air. Everyone turned away and thankfully the guy wasn’t persistent and his mate wanted to keep walking, so they left and we laughed. Such Christmas enthusiasm.
The more welcome Christmas spirit came a few minutes later when the staff walked into the room with a fondant pig cake with lit sparklers sticking out, and we all sang happy birthday to one of the women in the group next to us. When we finished I leaned over and said hello and the birthday girl introduced herself. Born on Christmas Eve, and named Carol!
We finished up our dinner, and drove back to the same spot we had parked before to get to St. Mary’s for midnight mass. We enter the church and Chris settled in to the organist position and we took our spot in the front row directly in front of him, but our view blocked by the size of the instrument. Still the best seat in the house in our opinion and we’re there for moral support. If we could see him we might heckle him and we don’t want to make him mess up. Not that we’d do something like that.
The music filled the small, old church and service was very nice. I always enjoy shaking hands with the welcoming strangers and taking a blessing during communion. The karaoke-like screens for the hymns are welcome to these trespassers, but still look out of place in this very old building of worship.
After mass, we thanked the vicar and made our way back to the car. Chris fired up his iPhone’s Tom Tom app to navigate his way through the practically deserted streets of London; only going the wrong way once, and rewarding us for his mistake by driving us over Tower Bridge for the first time. We didn’t remember the actual address of the flat, so Chris dropped us off at a corner in the general area, where our day of looking for lunch helped us navigate back to the flat.
Once home, we got ready for bed, and off to sleep without any sign of Father Christmas having broken in. I thought we had been good this year, myself.
It’s Christmas.
A Day in the Country
Despite falling asleep rather easily, I had a hard night — and harder morning — after all those pints last night. When we left the room and dragged ourselves to the dining room for breakfast I had difficulty even listening to Pat suggest a full Irish breakfast, so I opted for scrambled eggs, cereal and lots of coffee. I was so hungover, I had to take my time with breakfast, but managed to get through it without incident.
Back in the room we were still wondering what to do with a week’s worth of laundry and very little in the way of clean clothes, so while Sarah showered I took a walk down the high street to see what options might be available. I poked my head in the chemists shop and was directed to a shop a few blocks away. After managing to pass it the first time I found the shop and spoke with the woman who runs it. She was glad to help, but her turn around time would be too late for us, so I thanked her and walked back to Skelly’s. Dave had said the night before that we could do our laundry at his brother’s place when we visited, so now it was looking like that was going to be our only option.
When I got back I asked Pat about wifi access because we had noticed at breakfast that there was a SSID named “Skelly’s”. He said we should be able to access it, but we hadn’t been able to. Nice (and trusting) guy that he is, Pat led us to the office where the access point was located and left me to fiddle around with things. After looking over the settings I decide to power cycle the access point and then we were finally able to connect.
Once back in the room we talked about the plan to return to London the next day, and decided that based on the news reports we should consider taking a train and ferry rather than risking our flight from Dublin being canceled. Sarah did some research and booked our train and ferry tickets and I spoke with Skelly’s manager, Peter, about the possibility of hiring a car to get us to the train station early tomorrow morning. Peter said he would speak with their brother James who drives the taxi (naturally!) and make the arrangements to have the car there at half five. We are very impressed with Skelly’s!
Dave and Anne met us out front with two cars. We hopped in the car with Anne and met Dave at the market to pick up the ingredients to make faux meat sauce and pasta. While there we hunted for fragrance-free laundry soap in case Dave’s brother and his partner didn’t have any on hand. Then we followed Dave to drop off the car he had borrowed and made our way to his brother’s place.
We meandered through the snowy back roads before arriving at Ken (Dave’s brother), and his partner PB’s, farm just as the sun was setting. What a beautiful spot they have! Before the sun went down completely we all wandered around outside enjoying the way the last light of day shown on the hoarfrost before heading in to start making supper, and finally do some laundry!
While PB and Anne made supper, Dave, Sarah and I chatted and noshed on some cured meats from Trealy Farm that James gave us, and delicious beers from Untapped Brewing we bought in Usk. Ken was finishing up some chores but joined us shortly before the meal was served.
After supper, I helped with the washing up, before we all settled in the sitting room around the Stanley wood stove to talk. Occasionally I would pop out to check on the laundry, which was is in the garage. The telly was on and when the weather reports came on we’d all stop to see what the latest was on the Dublin airport. It was starting to look like we made the right decision to book the ferry.
It was getting late and we had to get up very early if we were going to be ready for James the next morning, so we grabbed our clean clothes, thanked our wonderful hosts and all piled into the car. Once back at Skelly’s we all hugged and said our goodbyes. What a wonderful visit it has been, but tomorrow we head back to England.















