Taking Southern England by Storm

Ahhh, the tranquil, idyllic, serene green English countryside. So full of history and beauty, the land of Jane Austen and Miss Marple. The land, in short, of Matt and Rob, who take no greater pleasure in life than high tea in a civilized spot or watching the latest BBC murder mystery (two of our favorites – Midsommer Murders and Inspector Morse – are filmed in or near the Cotswolds, where we are now).

Imagine, then, how painful it must be for us to pass myriad quaint tea salons and antique stores with our screaming toddlers on our shoulders, casting no more than a wistful glance into the inviting windows of said establishments. Then again, it just feels right to be exposing our kids to this land – which, truth be told, we have never actually visited before. We are hoping that somehow the culture of this place permeates their skin, just as we have tried to expose them to synagogues, Unitarian churches, and the South Orange community pool. Yes, I know, they won’t remember a damned thing. Oh well, it’s worth it anyway.

Rob and I have both visited London many times, and love it as much as we do any city (we only excluded it from our list of potential homes for the six month trip because we feel that we know it pretty well and because it really is close to NYC and therefore easier to visit. And after all our late night BBC movie watching since the kids came on the scene, we have talked often about visiting the countryside. Needless to say, this is not exactly what we pictured, but we both feel very proud of making this happen. And god do we love it here – love it. Calling it beautiful and full of history does not do it justice, you simply have to come here for yourself and see it. Medieval villages nestled into green rolling hills, thatched rooves for days, stone walls and hedges for miles and miles and miles. And everything so proudly and tastefully preserved. This area really is a treasure.

The people are of course different for us – a lot more distant than in the US, with much less of the friendly small talk that Americans seem to so easily slide into. But with very few exceptions, very friendly and welcoming. We clearly don’t belong here, much as we didn’t belong on the QMII, but it’s not necessary to feel a sense of true belonging to be able to admire and love something. We have little desire to live here, just a desire to visit very often and develop a feeling of knowing it much better.

And how are the kids taking to it? Pretty well, all things considered. As one might imagine, there have been some real difficulties around transition, the most dramatic of which have been provided by Cory. In our infinite wisdom we decided to pick up a rental car in Southampton following our departure from our ocean-going home, and to promptly drive 4-5 hours (on some harrowing roads – more about that later) to a little town called Fowey in Cornwall (which we pronounced Foh-wee for two days until a good Samaritan informed us the correct pronunciation is Foy on our way out of town). I would estimate that Cory was in tantrum (or some other kind of melt-down) mode for a good 30-40% of the drive. The poor guy was just completely out of it – discombobulated after passing through six time zones and two different sleeping places in six days. Cory has been much tougher than usual, with a lot more whining and acting out – he broke our second digital camera today (yes, this is why there are no photos posted today, but I will overcome soon!), for example, something that earned him the first spanking he has ever (and hopefully will ever) received. Oh yeah, said spanking was administered in the middle of a tranquil (and gorgeous) formal garden near the Cotswold town of Broadway.

Adina, on the other hand, has been an absolute champ. She entertains herself, asks all sorts of really smart questions, and generally just goes with the flow. The occasional melt down to be sure (she has decided, for example, that being taken out of the bath is a crime against humanity worthy of resistance by all means necessary), but generally much lower maintenance. As you know, we love both children beyond words, but I simply wouldn’t feel like I was honestly describing the trip without this bit of flavor.

Some other anecdotes worth relating:

- By far my favorite story occurred at the Unicorn Inn here in the Cotswolds. We were having breakfast in the frighteningly quiet, clean, and formal dining room when two lovely old women (both of whom were spitting images of Miss Marple herself, I kid you not) walked by our table just having finished their meal. They both commented on how cute our kids are – not so common – and seemed surprised that they could speak English (like I said, we don’t really belong). Making small talk (yes, we can’t help it), Rob commented on how gorgeous it is here. The two ladies agreed enthusiastically, and said they were from Derbyshire near the Lake Country, an area they assured us is equally worth a visit. Rob then replied “ahhh, Jane Austen territory!” A comment with which the kind women politely, but in that “all Americans think all of England is Jane Austen territory” kind of patronizing tone. Rob then said, “Oh I know it’s not where most of her novels took place, but it is where she set Pride and Prejudice.” The two Miss Marples considered the comment, and then, seeming taken aback, agreed and said they stood corrected. Classic – CLASSIC – Rob, and just one example of why I love him so.

- We visited an animal farm, where Adina fell madly in love with a pen full of bunnies and Cory dominated the use of a real “zip-line,” allowing him to perch precariously on a little seat that slides down a wire hung 10 or so feet from the ground. He got mad at me every time I tried to hold him up or run along side in case he should fall. I sometimes get the feeling that the more we try to defy gender roles with these kids, the more destined we are to fail.

- As you can probably tell by now, we are both somewhat Anglophiles, but Rob has demonstrated an even greater affinity than I, having developed a full-fledged English accent in no less than two days. And I’m only exaggerating a little. I can’t help but wonder what all these lovely people think when they hear an American trying to fake their pronunciation and intonation. I just hope they realize it’s out of admiration.

- We have broken SO MANY THINGS, I can’t believe it. First, Rob yanked the diaper bag, which was wedged into the back seat, cleanly tearing the shoulder strap (the only mean of carrying the damned thing) from it’s stitching. Then, in a clear moment of frustration Rob also broke the teeny tiny little part that holds the buggy board (a little wheeled platform upon which a tired toddler can stand) onto our stroller. Both among the most critical pieces of equipment we have (yes Jill and Rob, I was indeed skeptical of our need for both, and I stand corrected, along with the old ladies from Derbyshire), and both now utterly useless. We have taken to carrying diapers and wipes around in a little plastic bag – sad. Cory, as I mentioned, broke the fine digital camera we brought over from the states while playing with it in the parking lot (after having received at least four time outs for having touched the damned thing). He then smacked a camera we had bought less than 24 hours later out of Rob’s hands, rendering that model useless. This would explain why I have no photos to attach to this portion of the blog yet – but I will update soon, never fear! Do we now resort to using disposable cameras (having spent probably $700 on digital ones) with the hopes of getting the injured appliances repaired in Barcelona (yeah right)? Does anyone know of a decent toddler-proof digital camera? Does anyone know of a decent toddler proof ANYTHING???!!!??? And then we managed to break our noisemaker and our sound monitor system. How, you ask? Of course, by using awful, poorly designed universal adapters purchased at Target, which did not provide said function appropriately, blowing out the electronic innards of both systems and providing a lovely burning electrical smell. But mom, you’ll be glad to know, and I know be extremely surprised, that we have lost ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.

- Cory has finally learned to appreciate fruit, after I explained to him that it might help with his sometimes very painful constipation. Unfortunately, he now proudly announces in every restaurant before consuming his first spoonful of strawberry or cantaloupe that “This is really good for my poop!” Do you suppose there’s any chance the word “Poop” is not commonly understood here?

- We have now clearly answered the question “I wonder what Cory and Addy will eat when they can’t get pizza bites or mac and cheese whenever they want it?” Chips, chips, and more chips. Oh yes, and both children have learned to neatly separate the fried breading from the fish, and they consume that eagerly as well. Dessert, which of course has never been a challenge for these two, has now been expanded – the kids have learned to adore icky sticky toffee pudding just as much as we do. They will eat an adult sized portion if allowed, and Addy gets this very cute spaced out look when it arrives in front of her – she just stares blankly forward and moves the spoon up and down between the pudding and her mouth. They both just refer to it as Coffee Puddin’.

We are off to Kent tomorrow, then London after that (for a day only, because hotel rooms cost about three million dollars a night), and finally to Amsterdam for a few days before arriving in Barcelona. Like the rest of the trip, it’s been great but totally unpredictable. Will be back with some more comments (and photos) soon!