Afternoon Cuppa at Loopy Lorna's

A social has been in order for us Girlguide leaders of the 166th unit for a while now. We decided on a meeting for High Tea yesterday afternoon at Loopy Lorna's. It was my first time having a proper afternoon tea and to be sure, it did not disappoint. Just look at this spread...

Highlights of this particular tea house are the delightfully mix-matched dishes and cooky knitted cozies of different animals. Mine was a duck...as you can see.

Louise and Signe shared a pot of "Blooming Amazing" which was a whimsical tea that budded open as it steeped to reveal a Lily inside. The wonders of British tea artistry!

My favourite were the scones with clotted cream (life changing it was!) and fresh raspberry preserve. Heaven. The preserve was stunningly tart and with just the right balance of sweet I couldn't help myself but shamelessly dish up rather unlady-like portions of it for nearly everything I ate. Luckily I was among friends so I don't think they judged me. Needless to say it was one of those cultural flavours I was glad to sample during my time here.

In other news....

My IT Buddy made news today for his epic plans to cycle across the Eastern coast of Italy for a charity group, just months before his 70th birthday. A local reporter came into the library today to learn more about his cause and ambitions and consequently got to learn a wee bit about the IT Buddy programme with the Edinburgh Public Library. Afterall, if you are going to have a cause big enough to cycle 250 miles for, you best get yourself a proper blog to tell your story. That's where I came in. Here's the article.

"Feeling (too much?) Like a Local"

13. Is "sidewalk rage" a thing? If it is, then I think I am prone to it when other pedestrians don't follow the walking traffic rules. Granted they aren't officially "laws" like on the road but if you need to stop and tie your shoe, read a sign, or the like - I suggest you step to the side mate. Don't mess the rush hour chi on the sidewalk. Otherwise the rest of us peds will resent you for it.
14. Getting this little number from my friend I do "IT Buddies" with. Isn't it terrific? He was so grateful to learn the basics of his new laptop and how to do basic internet searches that he custom-made one of his marvelous origami trees for me.

This list is growing too fast to even keep track of it very well. The thing is, I have noticed that I have found less and less of the daily life here unusual. It isn't just that taking a bus to supermarket then walking with my re-useable bags back to our flat from the bus stop is routine, though it is. It is beyond the wee fridge that seems like a normal size now, the cold, damp weather or the walking to church in my trainers and then changing into my Sunday shoes to avoid blisters. Those things are indeed normal feeling to me now and I suppose that I expected them to become that way at some point; however, while walking home from work along Queensferry Road, I looked up over Dean Bridge as I was crossing it. It is a lovely view, to say the least.

It was at that point though that I realized it had been several days of work since I had taken a moment to look over the bridge that had once been such a wonder to me. I walk along that road several times a week and it has become rare for my breath to catch in my chest when I see the waters of Leith.

Lately I have noticed that while talking to people, I forget they even have an "accent". On telly, Matt and I will be watching advert after advert and not even think twice about how people say their words differently than we do. People will use terms like "mum", "cheers", "didnae" or "couldnae" and it seems quite natural and less like a novelty.

I remember when Matt and I walked bleary-eyed out of the Edinburgh airport at 8am to take a taxi to our hostel and face a full day of jet lag. Worn out and disoriented, we waited on Argyle Street for our hostel to open. The distinctive Scottish and British accents came and went past us like a Doppler effect as locals walked past us. It was all we could do not to sit and smile at each other, as utterly tired and scared as we were, everything around us from the buildings and the sounds on the street to the smell of breweries and rain, we were somewhere new. We were somewhere that was far from home. We were in Scotland. It was an intoxicating feeling - a rush - that made all of the difficult logistics and pains of finding a life in a new place worth it.

I remember this feeling, on a smaller scale when moving to Texas. People actually wore cowboy boots! And grown men would pour themselves into tight wrangler jeans and use the word "y'all". We went to a Stake activity with Matt's grandparents, I remember feeling that rush of excitement that comes when you feel like you are a part of something worth writing about, worth documenting in your life, as I saw this guy cutting open watermelons on a card table with a Texas-sized knife. Afterall, this was "watermelon country" - close to Luling - home of the "Watermelon Thump". It was so Texas and so Mormon ward activity at the same time. It was unique and I had never seen anything quite like it. If you don't see the humor in that, it is probably because you have already had experiences like that in your life before.

There were plenty of things like that when I got here that I just couldn't get over. They were so perfect. So Scottish. So new. But there is this bittersweet thing that happens when a place becomes familiar. It becomes less anecdotal. It becomes normal. It is just life. It's a little sad when I think about it too much. I hope I am taking in enough. Noticing enough. Appreciating the unique flavour here enough. At the same time, I am liking this sub-chapter of our story here, where there is routine. There are friends. There is fitting in more than just gaping at how marvelously different people and places are here than people and places where we are from (though between Matt and I - I am not sure where that would be anymore).

Holiday in London Town

4 stellar, adventure-filled days in London for under 200 pounds? Yes please. Matt and debated about taking the trek down over and over. "There is so much Scotland you can see for the amount you would spend for London." I think we were underestimating the fun we would have and over estimating the cost though. I will say we cheated a bit as I my ever-lovin' friend Ruth got us the "hook-ups" for a place to stay, as her parents live in South Kensington. They are at the centre of everything! Well, that is not true, they are at the centre of lots of things. The thing is, it turns out that London is so so enormous and dense that it is really impossible to be at the centre of everything. Still, being a stone's throw from Hyde Park, the Victoria and Albert Museum (we sounded like proper locals and were calling it the "V&A" by the end:) and just a few blocks more from the most incredibly life-changing French bakery as "Paul" (the sell those delectable macaroons!), and Harrod's! Oh Harrod's! I get ahead of myself though. Let me get oriented here. Always the best thing to do when exploring a new place.

Here is London:

Here is the area where we stayed:

Yep. London is so so big. There is no way to wrap your mind around it. You really have to think of it as something like multiple cities all pushed together. As overwhelming as it can be initially, the Tube is slick and efficient and there is just loads to do there.

So what did we choose to do with just the 3 1/2 days we had? After a leisurely 5 hour train ride along the West Coast of England, stopping in idyllic places like "Berwick Upon Tweed" and the historic York, we found our way from King's Cross Station to South Kensington. Our gracious host mum, as I will call her, got us oriented and turned over all of her maps, Rick Steve's travel guides, and membership passes for us to use over the next few days (she had her hosting down to a science!) then led us in the direction of Hyde Park to start our exploring.

Hyde Park was marvelous in spite of the cold, windy greeting it gave us (still warmer than Edinburgh afterall - it was snowy sleet when we left). Highlights included the intriguing sculpture they had by the Serpentine Pond,

and a crazy fast and nimble skateboarder who was showing off his mad skills with cones he wove in and out of in the centre bicycle path. It was mind bending.

With the wee bit of exploring time we had left, Matt and I headed over to this "Harrod's" we kept hearing about. Afterall, it seems that everything in the UK, aside from Boots pharmacy, supermarkets, and apparently Harrod's are closed by 6pm. What to say about Harrod's?

That's marzipan, mind you, not real fruit!

But these are all dates.

Luckily, taking pictures at Harrod's is free, because everything else is like a billion pounds. Turns out I could afford a cupcake with some tip money I made from housekeeping though!

The next day brought an interview for Matt at the Lincoln's Inn library.

He looked smart. I was proud of him in spite of the fact that he doesn't think he will get it. What will be will be. In the meantime, they "reimbursed" him for his 80pound train ticket - like I said, we kinda cheated on keeping our funds unbelievably low for the holiday. PS If you want an explanation on what the Lincoln's Inn is, you will have to go to Matt, I don't understand the difference between a barister and a solicitor in the rest of the law system in the UK. Apparently you do need to understand what all of these are because I have had things explained to me like 5 times and I still don't get it.

Onward we go! Lunch gave me the opportunity to change Matt's life with his first taste of a French macaroon, pistachio flavoured. We made the mistake of only buying one and we kinda fought over it a bit. Next time we were sure to buy 2.

Then a quick stop and the nerdy-fun museum on 221b Baker's Street.

Not sure what was more fun, Matt trying on a bowler in the gift shop

or seeing all the campy set-ups in the museum.

Who needs Madame Tussaud's when you have waxy re-enactments of Sherlock Holme's stories?

And somewhere in there we found our way to the Tower of London.

The next day brought a much anticipated trip for me to the Tate Modern gallery.

It was everything I hoped for too! Matt was a sport and let me share all of my "insights" and wandering thoughts about any of the pieces that struck me in there. A couple of times he even would add, "is that a Georges Braque over there?" or "This must be an earlier Pollock, don't you think?" And to think he told me "I am pretty dense when it comes to art" when we first started dating. Visiting this museum may have been just about my favourite thing of the whole trip. Such a playful collection of modern and contemporary pieces, no snobbery needed to appreciate it.

My favourite piece? Could have been the blocks of wood carved into trees and then place in the gallery space. Clever concept, don't you think?

Then it was lunch in Borough's magnificent Market. Oh the wonder!

Hot Raclette cheese sandwhiches anyone?

I am still amazed I was able to make a decision in time to catch our ferry around the River Thames. Do you see the remarkable selection of Turkish Delight? Can you believe those billowy magnificent meringues?

Indeed our boat ride kept us on track with our time. A good thing too because there was much to see while cruising around the Thames. Thank goodness the weather was a wee bit more forgiving that day. Such fun using our new camera on the sites too.

Our big splurge of the trip was forgoing the 16 pound entrance fee to Westminster Abbey. Afterall, the outside was cool and the gift shop is free to wander and filled with loads of "William and Kate" paraphanelia to keep the tourist crowd occupied. Instead we opted for a go up the London Eye with some Austin friends of yore, who are now proper London, UK folk. We all agreed it was a great way for us Sweeneys to end the London adventures.

So yeah, if you have the notion that somehow London shouldn't make it on the travel itinerary whilst living in the UK, you would be wrong indeed. In spite of the 8pounds a day for the Tube (just traveling in Zones 1&2 of the 5!) and the fact that many ticket kiosks say prominently and unappologetically says "THIS MACHINE DOES NOT ACCEPT SCOTTISH POUNDS", London is one swell place indeed. In fact it is like a dozen swell places, all in one. It is so huge! I already said that I know but I thought I should drive the point home. Huge and perfect for a March holiday, it turns out.

Housekeeping phonetics...

Between my Scottish boss, my Polish co-workers and my American self, I have learned three different pronunciations of the word duvet.

Scottish/British pronunciation: DOO-vee

(As in "do you you know how Scottish vampires say small? It's vee!)

Polish pronunciation: DOO-vette

(As in "do you go to the vet when your dog is ill?")

American pronunciation: Doo-VEY

(As in "do you know how the French pronounce Duvet?)

The thing about it is that all are considered perfectly acceptable pronunciations where I work. I am actually quite keen on using all three types in one day, just for variety sake. And if you make more than a dozen beds in one day, you can bet that you get the chance to talk about single Doovees, double Doovettes and king size Duveys.