home sweet home!

We made it back! My brothers were making fun of me when we landed--they said I always seem pleasantly surprised when plane travel goes smoothly, when, statistically, that's just what I should expect. I have a semi-serious fear of flying--I can do it without sedation, but I do need to grip the hand of the person next to me, and there's usually one or two meet-my-Maker prayers thrown in there. Maybe it's a lack of scientific knowledge, but I just cannot understand how that big heavy thing is supposed to get up, and stay up, thousands of feet in the air. Plus I usually get motion sick or my ears don't pop and I get an ear infection or some other silly malady, so that, I'm sure, increases my distaste for air travel. But (praise the Lord!) this trip, like the one there, was smooth, none of us got sick, my ears popped (so no trips to get yelled at by the ear specialist!), and, most importantly, we took off and landed with no problems! :) I am very thankful.

And now I am home in Boston, where there is still some snow on the ground (although our yard has sadly melted). I love this city a lot. I am really hoping I can find someone who will pay me enough money to live here next year.

In summary: GREAT trip! So many wonderful memories. But good to be home. Now time for bed. Goodnight.

London Days 5 and 6

I couldn’t post yesterday—lack of sleep finally caught up to me—so hopefully I can remember everything to summarize our last two days in London! If these days had a theme, it would be “museums”: we have been to the National History Museum, the British Museum, the National Gallery, and the Winston Churchill Museum and Prime Minister’s War Rooms. A lot of time on my feet, reading plaques :) and I have to confess that I am not usually a great lover of museums. I’ve always been a little embarrassed by that—somehow, I think it makes me less intelligent or mature—but I’m still working on it and improving!) Thankfully, each museum possessed several real gems that kept even this amateur entertained.

First was the Natural History Museum with an enormous amount of fossils and replicas or stuffed skins of animals. I was disappointed that we couldn’t get in to see the dinosaur exhibit (the lines were too long, with too many screaming children) but we did enjoy a large collection of reptile fossils and bones of extinct mammals. (Andy took the photo below of me with an extinct sloth; he said he is titling it “two sloths,” in honor of all of his failed efforts to wake me up in the morning!)

While this is neither insightful nor specific, I think my strongest reaction to the exhibits was, “Wow. Elephants are really, really big.” :) The architecture of the building was, once again, really, really beautiful. Here is a picture of the boys on the main steps in the museum.

Next was the British Museum, full of a ridiculous number of artifacts. I realized that Britain is in the unique position of having been the imperial power right at the point when the Western world became interested in studying and preserving history. They were able to collect (or, perhaps more accurately, steal) artifacts from all around the world. I should be fair and note that a lot of the stuff in there is also donated or on loan, but some of the greatest exhibits—a frieze from the Parthenon, mummies and sculptures from Egypt, jewels from Asia—were “imported” by British imperialists. At the same point, I enjoyed getting to see the Rosetta Stone and marveling at all that has been learned through that seizure. Is it wrong to enjoy that experience and knowledge, even when the means by which it was achieved could be called despicable? Or is it in some way redemptive to really delight in the opportunity to view these treasures? Or should they be given back? Or is that just the way the world worked then, even though we see it as wrong now? Interesting dilemma. My favorite exhibit, though, was of the artifacts from the Sutton Hoo burial ground. We learned about this particular discovery in my early English literature class, because it relates to Beowulf (every English major’s favorite book!) Beowulf describes the king being buried with his ship, but until the discovery at Sutton Hoo less than a century ago, there was no evidence that such a practice existed. Then, some little old British lady called the British Museum and asked them to investigate some interesting mounds in her backyard, one of which turned out to be an Anglo-Saxon king’s burial ground, complete with his ship and treasures. I love when I can make connections with things I learn in the classroom; I would write my professor to inform her, but she was this terrifying British woman who I’m sure has seen the exhibit herself, so I’ll just be personally satisfied at having seen it.

Today we started out at the National Gallery and bunches of famous paintings. Once again, my lack of art history knowledge/appreciation put me at a serious disadvantage. But I enjoyed reading the plaques and I did recognize several paintings by Van Gogh and Monet. And I also realized that a lot of Dutch people have painted! (That’s for you Beth.) :) I also picked out a few paintings that I really loved—mostly ones that seem to emit light. I love light. One thing I have appreciated here is that most of the museums—including the National Gallery—are free of charge to the public. They’re run totally on donations. I like feeling like great art—or artifacts, or history—are not just available to the elite but are part of the public possession. Maybe that provides some answer to my dilemma about the British Museum? Below is a picture of Trafalgar Square with the museum in the background. I thought it was really pretty at nightfall with the fountains.

Finally, we had a brief jog (almost literally) through the Winston Churchill Museum and the Cabinet War Rooms. I wish, in retrospect, that we had left more time for this because it was probably my favorite of all the museums. I don’t think of myself, normally, as much of a history person, but I do really appreciate history particularly when I can understand it as a story. And good museums, like this one, really help me to experience history as a story—complete with all the journals, photographs, and speeches as the details that enrich the basic outline of dates and names. Churchill in particular provides plenty of enjoyable details with all of his pithy quotes, which were displayed all over the wall. Two of my favorites: “We are all worms, but I do believe that I am a glow worm” and, from his grade school report card, “Winston is exceedingly naughty, and is not to be trusted with anything at all!” :) Just goes to show you should never judge a child’s abilities too quickly, particularly based on behavior.

In between the museums we’ve managed to squeeze in two great meals—lunch at a lovely Indian restaurant (finally!) and our last dinner here at a very traditional British pub, complete with Fish and Chips, Pimm’s and Lemonade, and a dodgy bartender. (Don’t worry—I don’t really think that’s “traditionally British,” but it certainly added to the experience!) We also got last-minute tickets last night to Shadowlands, the play about C.S. Lewis and his marriage to Joy Gresham. It was a beautiful, heartbreaking, and shockingly honest description of grief and suffering; I’ll probably write more about it later, but I’m honestly still trying to process it now. I do want to read his book he wrote about the experience, though.

Tonight, Mom and Dad are out seeing King Lear, which my dad has been looking forward to since before we came! They actually couldn’t get tickets until this morning, when they got a pair of tickets as the result of a cancellation—2 of the last 4 tickets available! It was even more exciting to realize that Sir Ian McEllan is playing Lear. My dad rested at the hotel all day in the hopes that he wouldn’t be in too much pain through the show tonight (last night was really awful—ironic to watch my dad’s face screw up in pain while watching a play about the problem of pain). I hope to hear a glowing report when they make it back. The boys and I are hanging out at the hotel, drinking Diet Coke with Citrus Twist (gotta use it up!) and watching Good Will Hunting on TV and getting excited about coming back to Boston tomorrow! Just several Tube rides, airport lines, and in-flight movies before I am home. It has been a wonderful family vacation—there hasn’t yet been a day when I wished it would be any shorter, I have enjoyed the time with everyone in my family, but I am ready to go home now. Gonna go pack now and pray for safe travel tomorrow! Here’s one last picture of me and Big Ben (and an umbrella—gotta love the London weather!)

London Day 4: Boxing Day

I am really tired, and while I would like this to be short the reality is that I cannot be succint when I am tired, so instead it will be long and incoherent. But I have to write about today because it was so full and probably my favorite day here so far. We were worried that we would have trouble finding things to fill up today, since it is Boxing Day and many stores and museums (not to mention half of the Tube lines) are closed. My mom and my dad decided to say in and rest today, but with the help of some internet research and careful planning, the boys and I ended up running all over town visiting the few museums that were open and had a phenomenal time.

First stop this morning was Madam Tussaud's museum with the wax figurines of famous people. The website advertises it as "The Most Famous Tourist Attraction in London," which I thought was a bit of an exaggeration. However, when we got there only about a half hour after it opened, the line was already about 45 minutes long to get in, and once we got in it was totally packed. We went mostly for Sam (he likes stuff like this) but I actually enjoyed it a lot. Definitely trippy though--it's a strange experience to bump into a man, turn around to apologize, and then realize it's Tom Cruise, and only then realize that he's made of wax. We have tons and tons of pictures of ourselves with every celebrity imaginable. (Funny story: when we showed my dad the pictures afterwards, he recognized all of the random historical figures, including obscure knights and naval captains, and none of the contemporary celebrities.) This picture is of Andy and me with the royal family. (We fit right in, don't we?)


After we'd had our fill of cheesy photographs, we made our way to the Houses of Parliament and Westminster Abbey. Parliament is closed right now, but we did get to see the outside--HUGE and probably the most beautiful building, at least on the outside, that I've ever seen. I love Gothic architecture--just all the crazy detail makes it seem to flow even though it's stone. And I got to see Big Ben, which I was very much looking forward to, although I quickly discovered that it's pretty much impossible to get it all in one photograph--so big! This is a picture of Sam and me outside the gates to Big Ben and Parliament.


Then we took an audio tour of Westminster Abbey, which was just breathtaking. I know I've already said that about several things on this trip, but Westminster Abbey, I have now decided, is the most breathtaking of all, and definitely my favorite cathedral. Even though it was completed over a course of centuries and under the direction of several different monarchs, they all maintained the same Gothic architectural style and so the building all seems unified even though there are so many different sections serving their own unique purposes. The small chapels are pretty, but I much more enjoyed the larger wings with the vaulted ceilings and stained glass windows. Also--there are a lot of famous dead people there. I saw more graves than I've probably ever seen in my life today! And while stuff like that normally weirds me out, it was actually exciting for me because so many of the tombs were of poets who I've recently been studying. Of course the most famous (and first) poet to be buried there is Chaucer, but there's also Ben Jonson, Sir Philip Sidney, and Tennyson, as well as monuments to Shakespeare, Dylan Thomas and some of my other favorite writers like the Bronte sisters and Jane Austen. It was in an odd sense inspiring to be surrounded by all of those names, and, as someone who loves literature, I really appreciated the fact that a whole corner of the "grave" section of the Abbey was devoted to writers--it's even called "Poet's Corner." It seems fitting to honor creativity there, because creativity and beauty and art are all good gifts from God. Finally, just before we were about to leave, they came on the loud speaker and announced that Westminster Abbey has always been, primarily, a space of worship and prayer and asked the visitors to remain still while they read a prayer out loud. It was a prayer for our families: for God to strengthen them, reconcile those that are broken, and protect those who do not have a family. It felt so right to stop in the midst of that place and pray, even though it is not typically something you expect on a tour. Here is a photo of the Abbey from the outside (no inside pictures allowed, unfortunately!)


We were almost out of time before we had to meet our parents back at the hotel, but we took a quick Tube ride and then jog across London Bridge (which is just unbelievably unimpressive--it's a foot bridge, like almost any other footbridge I've ever seen) and the Thames (which is lovely and interesting, unlike London Bridge) to visit the recreation of Shakespeare's Globe Theater! That was just a dream come true. I have acted in Shakespeare plays since I was in 4th grade (first role: Viola in Twelfth Night) and have probably read by now 10-12 plays of his. Sam has also acted in two Shakespeare plays, and Andy is currently putting together a scene of one for his senior English project, so we all had some special ties to the Globe and were excited to see it. We got in for the second-to-last tour of the day and were taken around the reconstructed Globe and given a fairly detailed description of the process of its reconstruction. Apparently, even 50 years ago, there was no Globe reconstruction; the only monument to Shakespeare in London was a small plaque on the side of a tavern in the original location of the Globe Theater (which burned down). An American actor was visiting London, went looking for the Globe, and was appalled that it had not been rebuilt. He put together the funding and started the project but died too soon to see its completion; his daughter finished it. They have tried to make the new Globe as similar to the old one as possible, so it is complete with thatched roof (covered, of course, in flame-retardant chemicals), pegs instead of nails holding up the whole structure, a protruding stage and multiple levels of seating as well as a gallery on the floor. They still perform shows there (in the spring and summer--it's open so it would be too cold in the winter), and while some shows are contemporary most are Shakespeare's works. They also described how they make the costumes--all the way down to underwear--exactly as it would have been made in Shakespeare's time, which sounded rather uncomfortable to me. Andy, I believe, was most excited that they handed out mulled wine as part of the tour (to keep us warm in that cold, open air theater!)

The evening concluded with a jog back to the hotel, quick change, and then a trip out to the theater to see Les Mis. I love the show and have seen several different productions, and while they have all been wonderful, this may have topped them all. The actor who played Jean Valjean had both beautiful voice and stage presence but also managed to portray both a strong and gentle demeanor very nicely. I cried through the last song like I always do (although apparently I've gotten better at concealing it--Andy didn't notice and he was sitting right next to me!) But the character who actually caught my attention the most this time was Javert. I pitied him; he truly believed that he was doing what was right, but his whole mindset was so antithetical to grace that he could not ever appreciate gracious treatment even when he recognized that it was given to him. I see myself being like that sometimes and so I felt sad for him rather than angry at him; I wanted him to taste mercy. All in all a great show, and my parents especially really loved it--they walked out of the theater with huge grins on their faces and just couldn't stop talking about it. It is fun to see them so happy.

Finally, to conclude, I want to write up a description of the hotel lounge where I'm sitting to use the internet--Beth, I think you'll enjoy this. It is just so unbelievably tacky in this weird, almost-cool way that I feel like I'm in the middle of a strange movie every time I sit down here. The walls are painted teal and are adorned with one painting on each side--all modern art. One is a pattern of colored lines, all horizontal and all pastels; another is a pattern of polka dots; two others just look like blurry photographs, but one is a deep maroon and the other is a brownish-yellow so they seem a little too dark for this room. The furniture consists of these light purple-and-white checked sofas and arm chairs, with a few bright green cushions thrown in here and there. In the corner, there is a Christmas tree that is covered in tinsel (some is silver, some is gold, some is this glittery multi-color), with those lights that flash on and off and a bunch of decorations that don't match (except that they are all shiny.) There are a few plants around the room too: one is green an leafy, the other is a pointsettia, and the third is a vase of some ridiculously tall flowers--they're probably waist-high on me. Britney Spears "Lucky" is blasting over the radio, a little too loud for comfort. (I sometimes struggle to think in here; I definitely couldn't carry on a conversation with someone.) Windows directly behind my head face the street, where I know people are walking down the sidewalks thinking our building looks elegant. That is the best description I can provide of my surroundings as I write this; hopefully, if anything I write seems ludicrous, I can later blame the room instead of my own incoherence. :)

London Day 3: Happy Christmas!

Happy Christmas, as they say in London. (Actually, I've heard "Merry Christmas" almost as frequently; I don't know if that's because they use both or they can tell I'm a tourist.) I wanted to summarize yesterday evening before moving on to the events of today.

Yesterday afternoon, we headed out to Piccadilly Circus, a shopping district that reminded me a lot of Times Square in New York. Lots of big, lit up, moving billboards; lots of upscale shops; with lots of little touristy shops (read: cheap stuff for way too much money) stuffed on the side streets in between. It was fun walking around just seeing all the crazy last-minute Christmas Eve shoppers. We didn't even bother going into some of the stores because it looked like you could get trampled (particularly in the toy stores. One of the biggest toy stores had actually just closed down when we got to it, but there were people banging on the windows, as though the clerks would somehow relent and let them in!) Mostly, though, I was a little disappointed because there were all the same stores from back home. I did buy a really pretty and incredibly cheap scarf from a man with one of the cheap-side-stores, so that made the trip useful. And I got to see lots and lots of pretty lights, which I always love. (At one point I took off running because I spotted a particularly sparkly display, and Sam laughed and commented that I would be the easiest person to trap if anyone was ever really trying.)

Once again, we "went American" for dinner; my dad spotted a TGI Friday's and asked if we could go there. While part of me has definitely wanted to rebel against being such blatant (or wimpy) American tourists, I've realized that I need to be a little gracious and keep in mind that, because of all his medications, my dad has relatively little he is able to eat, and when we grab food out I think he wants to make sure it's somewhere where he knows the menu. Also, surprisingly, American food is about the cheapest thing you can get here (apart from Indian food, which I have to try before we leave!) The upside to Friday's was that they were handing out free Santa hats to everyone coming in that night, so of course, we got them.


After dinner, we went to a Christmas concert at Royal Albert Hall. It was possibly the most incredible venue I've ever seen coupled with one of the most beautiful concerts I've ever attended. The concert hall was HUGE; we estimated it probably seated over 10,000 people, and it was packed. It was round with multiple tiers of seating (kind of reminded me of what I imagine the Globe theater looks like from seeing pictures--but hopefully I'll know for sure tomorrow!) Thankfully, Mom had bought the tickets well in advance, and we were on the floor a little less than halfway back with a remarkably great view and really good sound quality. The concert was performed by a combination choir and orchestra, so some pieces were just orchestral, some were a capella, and some were all together. The orchestra dressed in wigs and what we Americans would call "colonial costume," although I'm not totally sure how they would identify that period over here. ("Colonizing costume"?) The choir was relatively small--I think 20 people?--with one Soprano soloist also in full costume. The program varied between traditional concert pieces such as Handel's Messiah and Pachebel's Canon (which were all incredible--great choral but even better orchestra, in my opinion) to carols that were sung with audience participation. Interspersed in the program were two dramatic readings: one from A Christmas Carol and another from the Book of Luke. I mentioned earlier that I sometimes feel like great art is a little lost on me; I feel less that way about music. I've grown up hearing choral music my whole life, and have sung in choirs some, so while I am by no means a music expert (that title belongs to Sam and my mom) I feel like I have a better appreciation for real music talent. Watching those bows flit across those strings like it was no effort at all; hearing the Soprano glide gently up to notes that I don't think I could reach even in falsetto; feeling the whole place vibrate with the rich sounds of the organ were all awe-inspiring. The size of the place (and the size of the enormous organ), combined with the lights and the costumes, lent the whole program this air of grandeur. Plus, I am now convinced that everything really does sound better with a British accent. (In fact, I think I remember our high school choir director trying to convince us of that, but I'm not sure we were really great pupils.) Everything was just so lovely. There was this delightful French couple sitting right in front of us; from what I observed, I don't think they spoke much English at all (they seemed really confused when we all sang the carols together), but they just grinned so widely the whole time and clapped so heartily and called out "Bravo!" that I think I may have enjoyed it even more because of them. (Plus the old woman had the most lovely smile-wrinkle-lines; Andy laughed at me when I mentioned that I hope, when I am old, that I have smile wrinkle lines.) My dad said afterwards that it was possibly one of the most incredible experiences of his whole life. While it doesn't totally capture it, this is a picture Sam got of the stage with the choir and the orchestra. (The bald head in the foreground is the old French man!)

Now onto today--Christmas day! Today was actually much more laid back; we discovered late yesterday afternoon that there would be no public transportation today, leaving us a little stranded. Andy and I had hoped to go for a walk this morning anyways, but when he woke up (before me) it was pouring rain--not a good morning for a walk. So, without transportation or much to do, we all slept in, which was a very nice Christmas present. Then we woke up, ate some sandwiches, and got a cab to St. Paul's Cathedral for an afternoon Christmas service. St. Paul's is an old Anglican Cathedral built in the 1600s; I haven't been to many cathedrals so I'm not totally sure how it compares, but all I can say is that it is huge and breathtakingly beautiful. Lots of gold-and-jeweled images on the walls and ceiling; marble everywhere; a huge dome in the middle with tiny little windows up at the top; stained glass windows along the outer and back walls. My dad was excited to go there not just as tourists but for a service. I agreed, but then it felt a little strange as a service to me, because it was evident that other people were there as tourists even though it was only open for service. (This probably says more about me than anything else, but I find it a little hard to pray with sincerity and focus when the man down the row is videotaping me and others praying!) Nevertheless, the choir was beautiful--fantastic acoustics!--and even more impressive when I realized that the sopranos were not women but little boys! I guess I realized that there are choirs like that but had never heard one live. I have no idea how they train them to sing like that but it's amazing. (On the other hand, part of me wants to grumble a little about not making roles for women in the church when there are places for them, but that's a debate for another day.) And it was wonderful just to hear the Christmas story read aloud in a church and sing "The First Nowell" (as they spell it here).

After church we came back quickly to change, and then got the same cab to come back to take us to dinner. (Needless to say, by the end of the day we had become friends! This is a side note but, while he was incredibly overpriced, he was a fun part of our day. He told us about his childhood in Lebanon, his views on the current state of immigration into England, all the different foods he knows how to cook, a little bit of recent English history, and pointed out Tony Blair's house, which looked surprisingly normal from the outside minus the two guards marching back and forth in front of it.) Dinner, like I mentioned earlier, was at a pub owned by Gordon Ramsay. It was really lovely and homey, but as soon as we sat down at the table I realized I had made a grave tactical error. I had checked prices and the menu online before putting it on the list of potential places to eat; I chose it partially because the prices, while expensive, did not seem exorbitant, and the food was fairly simple pub fare so I expected Sam would enjoy it. When we sat down, however, the waitress handed us a menu with a fixed menu and a (very high) fixed price for a 5-course meal. I watched my dad's eyes get really wide and quickly realized my mistake. It was too late at that point though; in order to get the reservation we had to give them our credit card number so they wouldn't fill the table with someone else. We talked about it for a few minutes while she brought our water, and after he got over the initial shock of it at all and explained to me that one should always ask about menus and prices on holidays (and realized that I had never been to a nice enough restaurant to even realize that fixed menus existed), he decided that it would be alright. It was more than we budgeted for but not completely out of our trip budget, and we're just going to try to be careful to limit extra expenses for the rest of the trip. I was also relieved because, at the very least, we quickly realized that our money was worth it. We got a five course Christmas dinner where, as my dad noted, each course was equally incredible. First course was a soup made with honey and some sort of "sweet root vegetable" (it wasn't carrots or sweet potatoes; it was in the turnip family; anyone know what that is?); then I had a "prawn" (shrimp) cocktail; followed by turkey with potatoes and cranberry glaze; pear and cinnamon crisp with vanilla ice cream; and coffee and mini mince pies. It was all delicious and elegantly presented; that Gordon Ramsay knows what he's doing!

And while apparently he's a jerk, his staff were all very sweet. They took a family photo of us: in this picture, we are wearing our Christmas crowns, part of English Christmas tradition. They came out of these little boxes called "Christmas crackers," which are named because they make a "cracking" noise when you break them open. I forgot to take a picture before I broke mine, so the best way I can describe one is that it is in the shape of a giant tootsie role: a cylinder with crinkly wrapping on either end. Our waitress instructed us all to link arms, then each hold on to one end of one another's Christmas crackers (so that you had one hand on one end of yours, and one on the person's next to you), and pull hard until they all snapped. They did with a lot "crack," and out came the crowns, a little prize (I got a keychain with a flashlight; Andy, Mom, and Sam all got other types of keychains, and Dad got a pen), and a card with a silly joke on it. It was fun to participate in a tradition like that. And the dinner, once again, was incredibly delicious. I just may not get birthday presents for another 10 years. :)

I'll close with the last verse of a hymn we sang last night that struck me anew as a very meaningful Christmas prayer, even though I've heard it many times before:

Oh Holy Child of Bethlehem, descend to us we pray,
Cast out our sin and enter in. Be born in us today.
We hear the Christmas angels, the great glad tidings tell.
Oh, come to us, abide with us, our Lord, Emmanuel.

Merry, merry Christmas.

London Day 2

First, an addendum: I made a serious error yesterday and forgot to report what Sam considered the highlight of the day, which was a quick stop at King's Cross Station to view Platform 9 3/4! It's complete with a luggage cart halfway through the wall for any tourists who want a photo op. What I want to know is how many children have actually tried to run a whole cart through the wall in the hopes of making it to the Hogwarts' Express. It's got to have happened at least once. Here are the boys duking it out to see who will make it through first.


Now, on to today. I'm posting a little earlier today in the hopes of getting to bed a little earlier tonight. (I didn't realize how long it takes to write out all we've done in a day! The boys were definitely sound asleep before I got it all done last night.) Andy and I spent the morning exploring Cheapside, an area which all literate people should remember as the home of Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner from Pride and Prejudice. A few interesting bits of trivia: our word "cheap" actually comes from this particular street in London, which was a merchant and financial district that was not particularly high-class. (Hence the Bingleys' disdain for the Bennett relatives in this area in P&P.) Our word "shopping" also apparently comes from the same street; one would originally say, "I'm going cheaping" which then got slurred into "shopping."

Ironically, today it is a relatively nice area with lots of upscale restaurants and shops. Andy and I wandered into the Royal Exchange which was once a trading house and now contains luxury stores like Tiffany & Co., Omega Watches, etc. We didn't stay inside long because we were underdressed (not to mention underfunded) but we took lots of pretty pictures outside. Then we visited the Bank of London museum, which contains lots of examples of currency over the ages. There was also a neat exhibit where you could hold a block of gold that was worth 145,000 pounds (about $300,00!) We discussed trying to make off with it, but it was inside a glass case that only your hand could fit through, and to be honest, I couldn't even lift it all the way. (It was heavy!) So Andy and I are still not rich. We also wandered around and saw the outsides of lots of beautiful old churches--one of which had a Starbucks attached! Talk about consumer culture. The insides of the churches were largely closed except for worship services. We also got to take a few pictures outside of St. Paul's Cathedral, where we will hopefully attend a Christmas Carol Sing tomorrow.

Then back to meet my parents and Sam for lunch at--you guessed it--McDonald's. (Sam is feeling sick, poor kid, so he stayed in this morning and my parents let him choose where he wanted to eat.) Now we're back at the hotel briefly while Sam takes another nap, and then hopefully we're all going to head out to Picadilly Circus to do some Christmas shopping and experience all the craziness of Christmas Eve in London! Then we have tickets to some Christmas cantata--not sure where yet but it should be good.

Update on the Christmas dinner disaster: I had compiled a list before we left for London of all the Top 50 London restaurants that were still in our price range. There were only 2 that I couldn't get in touch with last night, and since all the others were booked solid or closed I figured they would be too. But I gave my mom the list when Andy and I left this morning and she promised to try calling again. Because of some confusion, she called the same place 3 times--the first 2 times they said they were booked, but the 3rd time they miraculously found an opening for us all for dinner. (It reminds me a little of the story of the persistent widow from the Gospels.) She had no idea what this place was, however, because I had just written down a name and a phone number. So when we got back to the hotel, we looked it up, and it is a pub owned and run by Gordon Ramsay, a famous London chef who is better known in America as the host of the show Hell's Kitchen. He doesn't seem like a particularly friendly guy, but I'm really excited because I think the food will be amazing (and the atmosphere, at the very least, amusing). I also think it's fun that through all the blunders we stumbled upon such a great place.

That's all for now. I'll try to update more tonight if more that is interesting happens. Otherwise, Merry Christmas Eve! (I heard a boy on the Tube today eagerly reminding his father, "Santa comes tonight!!")

London Day 1

Best discovery of the day: Diet Coke with Citrus Twist (it's Lime and Lemon!) Those of you who know me well will appreciate how significant this is.



Today's itinerary:
--grocery shopping
--St. James's Park
--Buckingham Palace
--the Queen's Gallery
--church at All Souls
--dinner out

Today was pretty packed, even though we didn't really plan it and just kind of wandered into things. We spent the morning walking through little shops in the neighborhood hotel searching for grocery supplies we needed for the week. It's funny what you can find here and what you can't. For instance, I found a grocery store with Krispy Kreme donuts--including the Maple Frosted flavor that my dad loves but that is no longer on sale in the U.S. However, I spent 30 minutes walking through the largest grocery store and could not find any peanut butter. Go figure. In addition to my amazing Diet Coke, I also found jars of Uncle Ben's prepared sauces that Beth and I used to eat all the time in Romania and have been missing. (Actually, I probably have more than she has; she can really cook, but I am not yet that proficient, and those things were my staple for Friday night dinners at the apartment. It's just not the same without them.) Again, you would think that would be easier to find in the States, but we never have yet. I have found them now, though, and several jars will be packed away in my suitcase for a reprise of Friday-night-Romanian-dinners with my former roommate when I return.

After a quick return to the hotel, I suggested we try to see Buckingham Palace in case it was all decorated for Christmas. So Andy found our way through St. James's Park, which was lovely and had some of the most gigantic "waterfowl," as the sign called them, that I had ever seen. We're still not totally sure what some of the birds were--we think pelicans--but we have pictures. We got to the Palace and found out that they only let tourists in for about 2 months out of the years, i.e. not now. So instead we spent a little time peering through the gates at the marching guards, and then walked around back to the Queen's Gallery, which has a large collection of Renaissance Italian Paintings as well as some jewels and other personal heirlooms of the British monarchy. I am not a huge art buff, but there was a very helpful and complimentary audio cassette and it was fun to hear how all of the various paintings were collected and refurbished. We had a funny chat with the attendant on the way out, who, after hearing we were from Boston, demanded that we "give that tea back!" We then took a little tour of the gift shop where I found some hilarious and not-too-overpriced knicknacks to bring home (be excited!) and then walked around some more before heading back to the hotel to get ready for church.

Church was at All Souls Church, an Anglican Evangelical Church where John Stott used to be
Rector. It was really wonderful--we sang all these great Christmas hymns (which sound SO much better with a British accent) and heard a really lovely sermon on 2 Corinthians 8:9: "For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich." My only complaint about this fabulous family adventure has been that it's hard to feel like it's Christmas when we're in a hotel, in a foreign city, away from our home and decorations and friends and traditions. So it was so nice to be reminded of the beauty of Christ's gift to me--His riches in exchange for my poverty. While all the other things about Christmas are nice, they are not ultimate, while this gift is. It was also really wonderful to realize that, while I am separated from my home and friends and culture, I was able to walk into a church and immediately be united to these people and celebrate with them because of our union with Christ. On a completely different note, I enjoyed the service because it was probably the most diverse group of people I have ever seen in one church at once. I really got a sense of being part of a larger body of Christ. They are having a Christmas morning service that I think I'm going to go back to with whatever family members I can drag out of bed.

Dinner was just a cheap little pizzeria near the church. The only special thing about it was that it reminded me of the pizza places in Romania much more than the ones in the U.S. I'm not totally sure why: a combination of what was on the menu (basically pizzas with Italian names), the soda in a bottle, and the REALLY slow service I think. :) Then back to the hotel, where I've been trying unsuccessfully for the last hour to find us a semi-nice-but-not-too-expensive restaurant to eat at on Christmas Day. So far, everyone is either not open or already booked (sigh) but I'm going to keep trying tomorrow.

Random note: I cannot figure out the toilets in this country. All the ones I've encountered are water-efficient, which means that it only flushes for as long as you hold down the handle. Which is great, except I can't figure out the right amount of handle-holding to guarantee that everything necessary is washed down. Gross.

arrived in London!

I don't usually use this blog to keep a narrative of my days, but I figured I could make an exception for the family Christmas-in-London-extravaganza! At least I will enjoy going back and rereading this. :)

We just arrived in London a few hours ago, so not much to report yet. The flight was not difficult--I have finally figured out that the key to not getting sick is to eat a LOT beforehand. So I had the McDonald's Big Breakfast and some Dramamine (doesn't that sound yummy) and then felt great the whole way. Mom and Dad got bumped up to First Class through a fluke (or, I believe, providence) where the airline had to switch their seats to keep them together--and the only seats were in first class. They occasionally came back to visit us plebeians in coach and both had big smiles on their faces and tales of chairs that leaned all the way back, really delicious steak, Twix bars (did you know that there are complimentary Twix bars in First Class?!) But, once I got over my minor bitterness, I was really thankful on their behalf. I know Dad was in much less pain than he could have been at the end of the flight, Mom was so comfortable she was actually able to sleep, and I think they both felt like they were having their own mini-vacation together.

Then we arrived, tried to take the Tube to the hotel, but it turned out there had been a minor accident and the Tube station at Heathrow was going to be shut down for the next few hours. So we got to ride in a nice British cab (on the WRONG side of the road!) to our hotel, unpack, get cleaned up, and by that point it was about 10 pm. But since we weren't tired, and Sam hadn't really eaten anything on the plane (he doesn't like plane food) we decided to go adventuring for dinner. Lo and behold, Sam walks around London for 5 minutes and finds a Burger King and a McDonald's. I wouldn't have believed it was possible but that kid has a sixth sense or something. So, after a little chuckling, my dad gave in and we grabbed a snack at BK. Ahhh, my family: so cultured, so refined, so adventurous. :)

I'm excited about tomorrow! Not sure what we're doing yet but I'll try to update tomorrow night...

a thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices

Advent is probably my favorite time of year. I love the Christmas carols, I love the lights, I love the growing cold that holds the promise of snow. I love that we have evergreens covering almost every square inch of my church and that Mariah Carey reminds us that "He rules the world with truth and grace" on the radio. Everything seems a little more crisp and real--not to mention joyful--to me during this time.

And so it has been bizarre to me to experience Advent this year as a period of mourning. In the past month, two friends-of-friends have died very suddenly and very tragically. One was a boy from my high school; another was a friend of my brother's who committed suicide. My dad had to tell me that his chronic pain is not getting better but worse. Ebola has broken out in a region of Uganda where my church has missionaries and where several of my friends have served; one of its victims was a doctor to whom their whole team was close. Several friends have recently broken off relationships and I now have to watch them walk through the resulting heartaches.

As I write it all out, it feels like I have just been bombarded with one single reminder: "The world is not as it should be." Some days I have cried; other days, I have just felt completely numb. I have struggled with hopelessness and hardness, because if you do not hope, it feels easier to face a new tragedy (or continue to deal with an old one). I have wondered whether the world has always been this brutal, or whether I am just becoming aware of it after living so many years in a world that (thankfully) has accorded me relative comfort and protection. I'm sure, when I consider it, it has always been this bad. I am not totally sure what to do about that.

It at first seemed to me especially cruel for all of this to happen at Advent. But, on the other hand, Advent has been my source of hope as I look at all of this. It is times like these that we most need and desire to sing, O Come O Come, Emmanuel. There are days when I know that the world will seem much sweeter, but there are also days when the world seems like it offers very little hope. And this is why we need Jesus, and why we celebrate His coming. He will make it right; He is making it right. At the same time, He came to suffer with us, to bear our burdens. As my pastor's wife told me, we can mourn because we know that as much as we hate death and suffering and sin, God hates it so much more. This is not the way His Creation is supposed to be. And, because Jesus came, it is not the way it will be forever.

A friend's Christmas letter arrived yesterday, and it also was meditating on suffering in the midst of Advent. She included the words to a carol that I had heard years ago but forgotten:

I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men.

And in despair I bowed my head
"There is no peace on earth," I said
"For hate is strong and mocks the song
of peace on earth, good-will to men."

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on earth, good-will to men."

Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.