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A Jolly Good Time
Part 1 of 3
One of my goals this year is to visit three new countries. Having recently returned from a trip, I am a third of the way there!
The girl and I met the boy in London for an almost two-week trip. This trip was a pivot from what we had planned (avoiding Christmas at home by visiting the European markets), thanks to the Navy vetoing our original idea, and giving us their blessing on a January adventure instead.
Frankie and I arrived early, around 730am. I had worked hard to pack light, but my girl did not get that memo. So with our three suitcases, a backpack, and two purses in tow, we headed off to the London underground. When we arrived at our hotel, the Royal Horseguards, our room wasn’t ready. We dropped our things and headed out to find some food. The hotel was in the Westminster district, so we walked towards Trafalgar Square, catching glimpses of the London Eye and Big Ben as we went.
I knew Soho was a good place to find grub, so we headed in that direction, making our way through Chinatown before we found the Toi & Moi cafe.
This meal was the beginning of our quest to find a great sausage roll. While the food here was good (my avocado toast with roasted tomatoes was a thing of beauty), the sausage roll did not meet what we wanted. The quest would continue!
Next we decided to do a little vintage shopping. Traveler’s note: if you are headed to London right now, pack a suitcase full of your USA sports team’s clothing. London vintage stores are FULL of it!
While it was fun to find American sports teams’ garb, we didn’t travel across the pond for it. The girl was searching for cool stuff to wear on stage, and I just wanted to see what I could see. I had to come to terms with fashion from the 90s being considered vintage, which just felt wrong to me. I wanted stuff at least 20 years older than that! We finally found Blackout 2 Vintage, which was AMAZING. They had fashions for men and women from the 1920s through the 1970s. I bought myself a wool shawl that I ended up wearing multiple times on the trip!
We were fading, so went back to the hotel to wait for Carter, and our room. I was disappointed that the hotel bar was closed for renovations and remained that way for the entirety of our stay. I had used that bar as one of the things swaying me towards that hotel. The restaurant let us in, but they could not do mixed drinks. So we settled for snacks and some wine, and shortly made our way upstairs.
How did I choose the hotels for this trip? The first thing I needed was hotels that would allow 3 adults to stay in a room. Location was of course key: we needed to be able to step outside to readily reach restaurants, pubs, attractions and more. Additionally, an onsite bar/restaurant, a cozy fireplace, and decor that made it not look like it could be found in America were all big selling points. So it was pretty disappointing when one of the reasons I picked for our first London hotel, a gorgeous onsite bar, was closed for renovations during our stay. We had stopped by while waiting for our room and for Carter. We were able to sit in the restaurant, but it didn’t have that cozy vibe I wanted, nor could it do mixed drinks. A bummer, really.
When we did get into our room, we were pleased to find it was spacious, charming, and had a beautiful view of the river Thames and the London Eye. They also put US hotels to shame, with a fridge you could actually use, and complimentary beer, wine, waters, and soft drinks, that were replaced nightly, free of charge! We did have a few glitches during our stay, but the staff worked very hard to rectify those for us. Carter kept saying, “I can’t tell if this is a fancy hotel with some small issues or a hotel with issues trying to be fancy.” I totally got that.
After Carter arrived, and everyone got tidied up, we headed out. My plan to keep us awake was to do a self-guided tour of Christmas lights I’d found online. Unfortunately, it POURED that night. As the kids left their raincoats in the hotel or in Italy, they used the umbrellas I packed, while I used my new Eddie Bauer insulated raincoat, which I heartily recommend. Luckily it was the only day it rained on the whole trip, but that one night was a downpour. We headed out to the underground and did our best to get to our first stop. We did not navigate well (I did better in NYC for sure. Wonder if I do better when solo because I know it’s all on me?).
Anyway, we ended up walking in a downpour farther than planned, and once we arrived at our first destination, we hunkered down at the Churchill Arms for beers and Thai food.
This pub is supposed to be one of the most beautifully decorated outside, but the Christmas lights had been removed already, and the flowers hadn’t been put up yet. Oh well. Wasn’t the best weather for standing outside anyway.
We hopped back on the underground and headed back to the hotel. I suggested we get off a stop or two before our hotel, as the rain was abating and we could at least get some more sightseeing in before we succumbed to travel exhaustion. Carter picked the Westminster station, and as we exited, Big Ben was right in front of us. I would totally recommend that you do that on your trip, especially at night! We needed a bathroom break and stopped at the first pub we saw, St Stephens Tavern. Big mistake. This was a tourist-trap fish and chips place. It smelled bad, and buckets were catching the rain over the tables where we sat. The bathroom was vile, and the drinks were gross (although to be fair I learned that the British ale I ordered was supposed to be warm and flat, after having that experience at 3 different pubs. Didn’t order that anymore!). The place is pretty highly rated online, but I wouldn’t go back.
The next morning we decided to do some more wandering and shopping, starting in nearby Soho. First, we stopped at a bakery my friend Kristi recommended. The kids weren’t moved by any of the offerings, but I got a pastry filled with gruyere and ham and I was happy! Instead, the kids found the Arcade Food Hall, which was kind of a fancy food court, more than a traditional food hall. But the service was good, as was the kids’ brunch, and my margarita was even better, so no complaints!
I decided we should head towards East London, which is a decidedly younger, hipper area.
In Shoreditch, we found more vintage shops, where Frankie found a cool corset top made out of recycled fabrics, and Carter bought a great leather jacket. Then Mama needed a cocktail, and we stopped at a pub in Spitalfields called the Ten Bells before we went back to the hotel.
We were having dinner that night at a highly-touted restaurant called Rules. Rules is the oldest restaurant in London and serves traditional, high-brow British food. The place was stunning! We pushed ourselves out of our comfort zones, trying food we would never have had at home. First up it was cocktail time, and I picked the best of the bunch: a Black Velvet, made with champagne and Guinness. I know, I know: it sounds weird. But it was sooo good! Frankie tried the first of many attempts at getting a good martini. The girl likes them dirty, and the Brits don’t seem to like making anything untidy. For apps and starters, the caramelized onion and thyme tart was awesome! For mains, Frankie had duck, Carter had pheasant, and I had a steak Diane. All were good, but not amazing. For desserts, I wanted to do a cheese plate, but I knew the kids wouldn’t share that with me. So I tried my first sticky toffee pudding (yep, that’s a yummy thing!) and Frankie got a fruit crumble, which she loves on both sides of the pond!
There was a bar I wanted to try near our hotel (Velvet), but it was closed (one of the downsides of off-peak travel, I’m afraid). But the Northal bar, also at the Corinthia Hotel, was gorgeous (and open), so we pulled up and took over. I mean, there was hardly anyone there when we arrived, but it started to fill up after that. Coincidence I think not, old chap!
Frankie tried another dirty martini, which was better, but still too clean for her. I was craving a pear ginger martini, which they had never heard of. I told them the basics, and they huddled together and figured it out. They watched me as I drank. I nodded my approval. They exhaled, looked at each other, and decided to add it to the menu. My work here was done.
We had originally planned to take the train to Nottingham the next day, but everyone slept in so we had to pivot. Instead, we wandered around, checking out architecture along the way.
For lunch, we stopped at the Old Bank of London pub, a restaurant that, as you would expect, lives inside a previous branch of the Bank of England.
It is a beautiful venue, but the food was just eh. I liked my trio of pies, but the mashed potatoes were so bland. So far we were not impressed with English food.
I mentioned Nottingham. We weren’t going there to find Robin Hood, but to see the headquarters of the Warhammer tabletop game. The boy is very much into their models, and it has been a dream of his to go there. I felt bad that we didn’t make it, so when we chanced upon a store filled with Warhammer stuff, we of course went in. Carter looked around and chatted with his fellow mini-men, while the girl tried her hand at painting a mini herself. I watched.
We realized we were close to the British Museum so ran over there before they closed. Late in the day, off-season: no line to get into this free and beautiful place. Worth it just to see the Rosetta stone! Back to the hotel after it closed, then a quick stroll back up to Soho to find dinner. Chanced into Sophie’s, which smelled divine with its roasting meats!
Sated, we went back to the hotel to pack and rest up for our flight to Ireland in the morning.
But first…
Our hotel room was very warm, so every day I left the window open. That was never a problem until we arrived back that evening when we realized a visitor had joined us. I mean, I am all for wildlife, but a mouse running around all night was not going to let us rest. So the hotel sent two well-dressed fellows up to assist. It truly was a comedy, watching 5 of us, suitcases everywhere, trying to corral and trap this frightened creature! Took us a few, but we managed, and the staff removed him to, they assured us, release him back into the wilds of London.
Good night, mouse!
Siracusa, not Syracuse
The day after Christmas it was time to unwrap another gift: a new city. So we said arrivederci to the wonderful Mario, and headed south to Siracusa.
Siracusa is another stunning ancient city set on the ocean, founded almost 3,000 years ago by the Greeks. As opposed to the city of Syracuse, named after the Sicilian version, but founded in 1820. While the city was originally named Syracuse by the Greeks, the Italians prefer to call it Siracusa — I mean, they run the place now, and have for a couple thousand years, so they get naming rights, IMO.
We stayed in the historical center, the island of Ortigia, at the stunning Grand Hotel Ortigia. The hotel seemed to have what I felt were art deco touches everywhere (the stained glass elevator is worth a visit alone). HWSNBN and I had a room overlooking the harbor, while the kids had one with a view of the ancient stone streets.
Besides the lovely artistic touches, this one had something I never thought before I would love so much: a lift that helped HWSNBN avoid the many stairs into the hotel. It took us awhile to figure it all out, but we became pretty adept at it by the end!
After settling in, Sailor Boy told us he’d found a Michelin starred restaurant right around the corner for lunch: Ristorante Porta Marina.
TBH, I really just wanted to sit outside in the sun and have cheese and wine, but he was so excited about we made it happen. Unfortunately, almost every restaurant we tried on Ortigia had several stairs to get into it (I think the land and buildings have sifter over the centuries — or maybe they are built above the street to avoid flooding?). We were pretty disruptive getting in, but folks seemed understand. They politely went about their chic lunches in the brick-walled room, quietly supping wine and looking more fashionable at a simple weekday lunch than I ever would with hours of a prep for a gala. As I observed the other patrons, I realized they were all couples about my age and realized that this was their “post houseguest holiday frenzy” reward lunch. Just the two of them, sipping wine while they discussed all the family drama the had just observed.
We, of course, were thankfully still on family time.
After lunch, we met our next tour guide in the hotel lobby. He was a retired professor, and definitely had a different air about him than Mario. Less gregarious, and more studious, the kids didn’t connect with hm right away, and frankly neither did HWSNBN. I enjoyed his history lessons, but then I always dig that stuff. Mario understood Singer Girl’s need for Instagram breaks. Not so much the professor. And the guys in my family had that look of “is the lecture over yet?”
But that doesn’t mean we didn’t find Siracusa stunning and fascinating.
At the end of the tour, we were scheduled to enjoy a glass of wine at a café in the piazza, but HWSNBN as struggling. He needed to get out of his wheelchair; he had had enough. When I politely explained to the professor that we would have to cut the experience short, he was baffled. He simply couldn’t understand why we didn’t wat to get a drink when we were right there in front of the bar. I felt bad, but said we just had to go.
We got HWSNBN back to the room, and he settled in. The kids and I still had energy, so he insisted we got out without him. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but we got him settled and into bed. I made a reservation for a little place that sounded interesting, and the kids and I set off. When we arrived at Osteria il Cantuccio at 8pm, they weren’t even open yet (oops. Dumb Americans). The owners, a darling couple, spoke almost no English, so we used a method HWSNBN would appreciate: Singer Girl spoke Spanish to them. Between the two languages, much sign language, and the Google translate app, we managed to order a great dinner (side note: Sailor Boy’s Sicilian girlfriend was horrified when he told her about the restaurant. She was appalled that we would go to a Roman restaurant! I guess that’s like getting Southern fried chicken in New York, lol).
After we ate, we texted HWSNBN. He was still ok, and urged us to continue the night. So we wandered around in search of a bar for a drink. Places were pretty quiet, but we happened upon a place that was lively and we ordered drinks — Mojitos. Don’t ask me why. But the kids and I had a lot of fun that night, just hanging out and laughing. I think we needed it.
This was a conflicting evening for me. I was thrilled to explore the city without worrying about HWSNBN’s safety and comfort, and to spend time with the kids just by myself. I hadn’t done that yet, and it felt good to check in with them and see how they were doing, and to let loose a bit. But HWSNBN was back at the hotel, alone, uncomfortable, and, I’m sure, sad that he wasn’t able to be with us. It sucked. I didn’t even want to tell him how much we had enjoyed ourselves.
In the morning, we had an amazing brunch at the rooftop terrace restaurant at the hotel. Free Prosecco on the buffet? Yes, please!
Afterwards we hopped into the van and, with a new guide headed to the ancient yet newly trendy town of Noto (Mick Jagger recently joined the ranks of famous homeowners here. Originally, the plan had been a 10 hour day of drives and sight seeing, but this was our last full day in Italy (and with Sailor Boy), and we wanted to have some down time. So Mario and I had whittled the day down to what he thought we would enjoy the most, and thus we visited Noto.
It was a gloriously sunny day to visit a city whose architecture oddly, reminded me very much of the Palace of Fine Arts in San Francisco. This was a city fully destroyed by the earthquakes I mentioned in a previous post, and was rebuilt in a very baroque style, in a much “sunnier” color than the lava buildings of Catania. It also had some hilly areas, meaning that we all took turns “feeling the burn” as we squired HWSNBN around in his wheelchair!
Inside the Noto Cathedral, we were charmed by these wooden sculptures. They were made by Africans immigrants, out of the very boats in which they sailed to Sicily.
And I loved this elaborate manger scene in another nearby church!
Our guide recommended Caffe Marpessa for lunch. While we weren’t all thrilled with what we ordered to eat (except for taht soup — yum!), the wine was great, and the setting was perfect. It was probably one of our favorite meals for the atmosphere and mood — even if Singer Girl did get in trouble for feeding the prowling cats.
Next it was time for a little souvenir shopping, where I finally purchased one of the Turkish heads I mentioned in a previous post. (here is a great explanation behind their history and significance!).
When done touring Noto, we headed back to Ortigia where we left the boys at the hotel to rest up. Singer Girl, the guide and I were on a mission: search the charming streets for souvenirs, gifts, and a suitcase to pack all those clothes we had to buy when our luggage had been lost! We also needed some picture taking time, and knew the guys would not be into that.
Dinner that night was our farewell to Sicily — and Sailor Boy. He was driving back after the meal, as he had to be back on duty early the next morning. We went to another place where we were the first in the door, and where the steps were steep. No problem! In typical Sicilian fashion, a few waiters scurried out and carried HWSBNB up the stairs, wheelchair and all, lol. The restaurant, Anima e Cori, was a pizza place — the first pizza we had had on the trip I think. It was fun, it was casual, there were strolling accordion players and, frankly, many out of towners. But it didn’t feel touristy — it had been highly recommended, and we enjoyed it thoroughly. Our only regret was only ordering 2 pizzas, because the menu was amazing! Our fave reminded me of one HWSNBN and I enjoyed in Colorado the previous year, as it included honey as a topping. Still weird to wrap my brain around, but man is it good with the right crust and toppings!
I feel sad typing this, but it was time to say goodbye to my boy. It was a bittersweet moment, as we not only don’t know when we will see him again, but we also don’t know what HWSNBN’s condition will be when that does happen. But it was an amazing trip, and we treasured every moment together.
This time, though, HWSNBN was also not ready to call it a night. Back at the hotel, we headed once again to the rooftop restaurant for cocktails. It sucked that there were only three of us, but we laughed and rehashed the trip’s highlights. The next day we were hitting the airport (after another fantastic brunch, of course), but not to go home. We decided months ago not to rush, and we were headed back to Amsterdam for a night!
A little Ado About Everything 