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Last Days in London
Part 3 of 3
Upon arriving in London for the last part of our trip, we took a cab to our hotel. I just couldn’t deal with my sick girlie trying to wrestle all her baggage via the underground! I selected a different hotel for this second London leg, just to change it up a bit. We stayed at the Rubens at the Palace, which was just stunning. This was definitely the poshest place we would unpack! The staff was beyond kind and helpful, and it’s always nice to have wine and snacks waiting in your room upon arrival! Negative: the complicated light switches, lol! I had planned to go out, but we decided to simply dine in the lovely New York Bar in the hotel. We were pretty wiped out, so this was a perfect easy end to our long day.
Sunday morning we had a planned tour of Buckingham Palace. Our hotel was right across the street from the palace, so we left a few minutes early to grab a light breakfast of sausage rolls, smoothies, and coffee to nourish ourselves.
We were still a few minutes early, so we walked around to the front of the palace. It was almost the changing of the guard, so it was pretty crowded. I think I will try to witness that on my next London trip.
But on this trip, we were exploring the inside of the palace, not the outside. I wish I could share pictures from the tour, but they aren’t allowed. Suffice it to say, The Crown, Victoria, and other shows do a darn good job recreating the interior shots for their shows. I can’t believe how close we were allowed to get to the thrones, the priceless art, and more! Pro tip: even if you don’t do the palace, visit the gift shop. It was truly great and had a wide variety of souvenirs. Better than any other shop we saw!
Afterward, we wandered through St James Park, where we had to chuckle at all the tourists fascinated with squirrels. Frankie impressed a group of Italians by showing them how to feed them from her hand. We decided it made more sense to let them think she was a squirrel whisperer than let them know how many squirrels steal from our birdfeeders daily in the summer!
Continuing our stroll, we passed Westminster, Big Ben, and the London Eye on the way to our next destination.
Frankie had been jonesing for nachos for quite a while. After an unsuccessful search for them in Cork, we were thrilled to run into a place that had good chips and guacamole, if not true nachos. We were in the Borough Market, a great outdoor/indoor food market.
We had already tried samples of bread, bought berries and cucumbers which we ate on the spot, and I bought a great bottle of hot sauce (who knew?). But having a Bloody Maria, chips, and guac were just what we needed, and El Pastor Stoney was the place to get them! Didn’t hurt that we got to hang with two dogs, George and George (that’s a long story) while we noshed.
Back to the hotel we went to change for the night. On a previous trip to London, the girl had been to a speakeasy and wanted to return, so we tracked it down and headed over there that night. Unfortunately, Cahoots had grown in popularity (and was no longer a secret), so we could not get in without a reservation. The doorman suggested another bar nearby, Disrepute. This lounge is usually open to members only, but they had room for us at the 1960s-inspired bar, so we settled in for a craft cocktail. Then we decided to backtrack to a blues bar we had passed earlier. What a find! We hung out at Ain’t Nothin’ But the Blues Bar for the next couple of hours, enjoying the music and the people-watching. This was a great find, and I would totally suggest you check it out. The bartender told us to come back for open mic night the next night, which we considered strongly so Frankie could get herself up on the stage, but it wasn’t meant to be.
Monday was our last day, and I had packed it pretty full. First off was a visit to the Tower of London. I had visited it previously but thought the kids would find it cool so I happily returned (and I will go back again). I booked a tour with Get Your Guide, and the guide showed us around outside and told us info about the Tower, Tower Bridge, and other surrounding areas before handing us off to a Beefeater. Did you know that the Beefeaters and their families live at the Tower? I did not, but I do now. As we wandered around with him, folks kept trying to join our group. He politely but firmly told them that this was a private tour, which I appreciated, as we had paid for his time! Most folks were apologetic about it, although one woman got riled up and complained. She was full of consternation as she asked, “Well how would you ever find a tour?” I muttered under my breath about this new invention called the Internet. A few in our group chuckled at that as she huffed off.
After our tour, we were free to wander on our own around the tower grounds. Another perk for being off-season: there was NO LINE to get in to see the crown jewels. When you look at the Disney World-like metal line stanchions outside the exhibit, indicating that there were usually a lot of people waiting to get in, you realize how nice that was! The crown jewels are truly worth the wait, though. So much sparkly! I did really wish Carter had been with us, and we kept sending him pics of the old weapons and things at the Tower. He would have loved it.
We spent about three hours total there, and I would have spent more but the girl was done, and we had another tour to get to: a pub tour! Booked with Liquid History Tours, our guide shepherded us around London for a few hours, pointing out sights, telling tales, and introducing us to four different pubs. Highlights from the tour included seeing haunted jail cells from the now-defunct Old Bailey courthouse and jail, running into the Blackfriars, a pub that Rich and I had actually visited during our London trip many years before, and sitting in Charles Dickens’ favorite seat at his fave watering hole, the Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese. Two thumbs up for the adventure!
That evening, we had tickets to see the show Alan Cumming is Not Acting His Age which I understand will soon be coming to the States. We rushed back to the hotel to tidy up a bit then rushed back out again. The show was at the lovely Theatre Royal Drury Lane and for me, the high point of the evening was something I had booked as an add-on. For an added fee, we were to receive access to a private bar, replete with snacks and cocktails. I booked it frankly because I knew we wouldn’t have time to eat, and I honestly loved the idea of having a bar with a shorter line. Well, it was more than that. We were met by a “red coat,” a lovely young woman who escorted us to the lounge. Or so I thought. It was actually a private room with a fireplace, snacks, and a bottle of champagne, just for us!
Afterward, we realized that returning to the blues bar from the night before would be a very bad idea, as we were leaving for the airport at 5am and still had to pack. So, we headed back and corralled our belongings for one last time. Or, at least, until the next time!
This trip was clearly not perfect, but we managed. It would have been so much better if Carter could have stayed with us, and if Frankie hadn’t gotten sick. But you have to work with what you have. We shall just have to plan another adventure! And is it awful that, as much as I love spending time with my kids, following their schedules made me wistful for my solo travels. I have no other plans right now for any trips, but my brain is working on it!
Additional thoughts for travelers:
— use the underground! Just like the New York subway, it is super easy, especially when you tap your credit card instead of messing with an Oyster card.
— A lot of places don’t take American Express so make sure you bring a Visa
— London bathrooms almost always had lovely, scented hand lotion in them. This was true of all the bars, shops, restaurants and more
— In both Ireland and England you rarely saw paper towels, only hand dryers. Hence, the bathrooms were always clean!
Luck of the Irish Travels
Part 2 of a 3-parter!
Our flight to Ireland was early, and none of us were great in the morning. Our biggest concern, however, was the looming transportation strike. We were assured that the underground would not strike until the afternoon rush hour, so we should be fine in the morning. The strike ended up not being an issue, but the morning ride to Heathrow Airport Terminal 2 was not seamless. Once the train arrived at the first terminal, the train stopped cold. The train before us was having a medical emergency, so it would be a minute. Au contraire. After about 5 minutes, we were all told to get off the train, and that the train we were on had to reverse out so the other train could go. Good luck to all!
The throngs were nervous, as we all had flights to catch. We assumed we would just walk to the next terminal, but were quickly informed that it would be an impossibly long trek. Above ground, we found ourselves at a bus terminal, and we quickly divided to conquer. I ran to ask for help at the ticket counter, while the kids ran to the buses. I bought us passes for the bus to the next terminal, and we were off. Sweating.
I was hard-pressed to live my mantra “Don’t worry, because it doesn’t help.” Instead, I started planning in my mind. I knew there had to be more flights to Dublin that day, so worse came to worst we would try to get on one of those. We made it to the correct terminal after about a 15-minute bus ride (definitely too far to walk!) and rushed inside. Unfortunately, all of the self-check stations (and there were no counters) had lines, and many of those broke as we watched and waited. Again, we divided up. Everyone on their own, so to speak, and meet you at the gate. We got in line for security, and I made it through easily. I looked around, and when I didn’t see the kids. I assumed that meant they were ahead of me so I rushed on.
Nope, not at the gate, and they were boarding.
I called and texted Carter and Frankie. No answer.
I promised the nice Irish man taking tickets that the kids were on their way, and he said no problem, there was time. After a few minutes, and a few sideways glances at my pacing self, he asked, “Have you called them?” I told him I had with no response. We looked at his watch and said I’d be okay. But I knew he was getting concerned.
A few minutes later, Frankie rushed over. She had been forced to take anything vaguely liquidy out and place it in a baggie (mind you these were the same things she had already flown with). Final call for boarding, and still no Carter in sight. He came rushing up, and we hustled aboard. That was far too close for comfort! We had planned to have breakfast at the airport, but that clearly didn’t happen. So we were going to buy food on the plane, which was listed as an option. Nope. Not on this very short flight to Dublin! So we tried to quell the hunger by dreaming of Guinness and Irish potatoes to come.
I had agonized over our Ireland itinerary. Some places just didn’t make sense time-wise, others were not good for the season. I settled on two nights each in Dublin, Galway, and Cork. As always with my travels, I could have stayed longer in each, and can’t wait to go back and see the places we had to skip!
First was Dublin, where we stayed at the Fleet Hotel Temple Bar.
Highlights: The location was perfect, the lobby was stunning, the room was clean and the bathrooms were modern. Loved the free waters! Didn’t love that our room was so dark, and they needed heavier doors to keep out the hallway noise, but oh well. If you have issues with steps or long hallways, be forewarned that this is in an old building, so there will be some up two, down one, long hallways, and a couple more stairs kind of things. Not a huge issue for us, but could be for some.
After dropping our bags, our first priority was food. We found The Duke, a lovely pub that fits the bill perfectly, I enjoyed a traditional Sunday roast with all the trimmings, and the kids filled up on soups, stews, bread, and chicken wings. The beer and whiskey weren’t bad either!
Next, we were off to Trinity College, to see the Book of Kells. I had never heard of the book before planning this trip, but it is a beautiful religious text from about 800 A.D., a national treasure, and the showpiece of the famed The library is undergoing renovation, so many of the books are off the shelves, but it is a stunning place nonetheless. They have installed an interactive exhibit called the Book of Kells Experience, which was so cool.
I would have liked to have spent more time exploring the college grounds, but it was chilly and late, and, well: the kids, lol. So we headed back to the hotel to get ready for a night out in Dublin.
We started at the hotel restaurant, Cafe 1920, enjoying beverages and a light dinner.
While our meal was good, the most memorable part of this stop was our interaction with the woman seated at the table next to us. I didn’t take much notice of her at first, just a woman enjoying a solo meal out, much like would do while traveling. But at one point when the three of us laughed about something, she snapped “Do you have to be so loud?” We were just shocked! I mean, how do you respond to that? Well, we just kind of shifted in our seats and I stewed. When we stood to leave, I just turned to her, and channeled my inner-passive aggressive Minnesota voice: “I am sorry our happiness was so offensive to you.” Before I could even finish my sentence, she declared in a British, not an Irish accent: “Indeed!” I rolled my eyes and walked away.
“Indeed!” became quite the buzzword for the rest of the trip.
Next, we went next door to The Palace Bar, which our cab driver recommended as his fave local haunt. I had one thing on my mind: my first true Irish Guinness. Hokey and touristy, I know, but I’ve had Irish bar owners in the US wistfully tell me how they had tried and tried but could never replicate that Irish Guinness taste. One thing I found different? The Irish Guinness seems lighter: more like a drink than a meal. I tried them in various locations, and I loved them all!
After this bar, we wandered around to look for trad music. The first place we stopped was more like a college town bar, with a guy singing covers, while American football games played on the television. Fine, but not the vibe we sought. So we found a pub that was happening, The Auld Dubliner. It was lively and the singer was better, but after a round of “Sweet Caroline” (I cannot escape that song!), we decided it was time to move on.
In my research, I found a speakeasy that we went to next. It ended up having, in the girl’s opinion, the best martini on the trip (the second one was even better!). The Vintage Cocktail Club was a sexy joint filled with cooler people than me enjoying a wide variety of cocktails.
The cocktail list was 20 pages long, divided chronologically starting with drinks from the 1400s. I highly recommend visiting this place!
The next morning, we headed to a tour at Kilmainham Gaol. Consider this pace to be the Irish version of Alcatraz: a spooky, damp, sad old prison with a lot of history. But the history at Kilmainham is more important, as it figures prominently in the Irish revolution for independence in the 1920s. Before I came on this trip, I watched the mini-series Rebellion, which I would highly recommend. It familiarized me with the history of the rebellion and made it even more exciting to visit the places where that history occurred. I often do things like that before I travel, be it watching a movie, or reading a book about the area I am visiting. I think it’s important to be aware of why places are important and to not just treat them as Insta-fodder.
On the tour, our guide told us many heartbreaking stories, including the one Rod Stewart sings about in his song Grace. So beautiful! The museum you visit after the tour is equally important, so save yourself some time to go through all the many exhibits. I was particularly moved by the letters home from the condemned men.
After our tour, we needed sustenance. The only place I could find nearby was directly across the street, and I worried it might be a tourist trap. But The Patriots Inn was delicious (so far Ireland was kicking London’s culinary butt). I love me some bangers and mash (hey now!), and this pork and leek sausage was perfect. The only better thing was my Bailey’s Coffee, with a cream on top so thick I could have set a euro on top and it would have never sunk through. Yes, please!
I wanted to wander to our next destination, but the kids were cold. So I compromised and we grabbed a taxi to St Patrick’s Cathedral. My kids tolerate my fascination with cathedrals and graveyards. To them, it’s just another church. But they are more to me. I don’t see them as religious destinations, although clearly, they are. However, places of worship meant so much more to the people who frequented them hundreds of years ago. They were the social and political hub and seeing them from that historical vantage point makes them read differently to me.
St Patrick’s was built in the 12th century, and is the final resting place of the author Jonathon Swift (Gulliver’s Travels), and, interestingly, his “best friend”, Esther Johnson. One of the best things about travel is that it inspires me to learn, so I immediately started looking into this relationship. Not much is known, only that he was her tutor (when she was 16 and he was 30), and that when she died he was so bereft he couldn’t even look out the window towards her funeral. He insisted that she be buried at the cathedral, and he beside her when his time came. It is rumored they were secretly married, but we will never know.
See? Old churches can be cool!
Next, we visited Dublin Castle. This more than 1,000-year-old building was the home base for English rule, until the 1922 revolution, when it was handed over to Irish rebellion leader Michael Collins. While we did not get to see the tower or dungeons, as we didn’t book a tour, we did visit the State Apartments. The State Apartments are a museum, filled with art and historic memorabilia. They are still used today for political events, such as the swearing-in of the Irish president, entertaining visiting heads of state, and hosting state dinners.
I do think the kids found it interesting as well, although they could’ve been happy just because they were in a warm place. If asked, I bet they would say their favorite part of that visit was seeing a fox outside on the grounds. This shocked and excited us, but evidently, wild foxes are common in London and Dublin. Who knew?
Our final planned destination that afternoon was Silver Works where we were taking a ring-making class. I learned about this opportunity in one of my Facebook groups on travel in Ireland. We, along with a couple from Dublin on a date night, were given small strips of silver which we then turned into rings. It really was a great activity, and we all walked away with a fun souvenir. As I’ve mentioned before, I have started purchasing jewelry on my travels as a souvenir, and this was extra special because it was part of a shared experience with my kids.
When we returned to the hotel, the girl had to make a call, so we changed for dinner then Carter and I went out for a walk. It was bittersweet because we knew he was leaving in the morning. I was glad to eke out some one-on-one time.
He and I stopped at Flanagan’s for an appetizer, which should have gone smoothly. However, when they were delivered, they gave us the wrong thing. I grabbed what I thought was a piece of fried brie, only to sink my teeth into a deep-fried mushroom. I gagged and spat it out, while Carter laughed so hard, I think he was crying. I detest mushrooms! The restaurant apologized and brought us the cheese (which was awesome). I ate a lot of it to purge my brain of the mushroom incident.
We met back up with Frankie and headed to dinner at Kathmandu Kitchen. We originally had planned to get Indian food while in London, but the place we wanted to try there had an hour-long wait, so we tried this one instead. Actually a Nepalese and Indian food combo restaurant, the food was warm and savory and happy. Visit if you are in Dublin!
Sadly, Carter left us early the next morning. I am glad we got part of the trip with him but we were all beyond frustrated with the Navy for screwing up his paperwork, necessitating a return to Sicily. I will be quite happy when he is finally a civilian again! We sleepily bade him farewell before the sun came up and tried to fall back asleep. But my brain remembered my big adventure coming up, and no more sleep for me!
Today was to be an adventure of a whole other kind: I was getting a rental car and would be driving for the rest of our time in Ireland. Gulp. I was apprehensive but sure that I could do it. Good news: they upgraded the rental to a beautiful Volvo SUV. Bad news: they upgraded our rental to a beautiful Volvo SUV. I had asked for a small car, as that was everyone’s advice for navigating the narrow roads. Turns out the “upgrade” is one they foist on tourists because the bigger cars just sit on the lot. Ugh. I was immensely grateful for the myriad cameras on the car, which ended up being absolutely vital. FYI: upon the advice of the Irish travel sites I followed, I rented through My Irish Cousin, a rental car agency that contracts with other companies. Our car was actually an Enterprise vehicle but used MIC for all the paperwork. I opted for ALL the coverage, as I didn’t want to worry about scrapes and scratches and wanted roadside assistance if needed (American auto insurance does not often extend to rentals in Ireland).
Our first stop on our way to Galway was the little town of Athlone, home of Sean’s, the oldest bar in Ireland. Dating to 900 AD, this place is a charmer!
When I return to Ireland, I will try to stay a night in Athlone to see Sean’s in its full evening glory. As it was, we enjoyed a cup of tea around the fire and marveled at the pub. Note: like most European countries, there is a zero alcohol tolerance policy for driving, thus the Guinness abstinence at Sean’s! After our drink we briefly explored Athlone. Whenever we travel, Frankie’s highlights are always animal-centric, and running into a Merle French Bulldog named Drogo in a park, who loved running around with us, was a great road trip break!
As we approached Galway, I started to get a bit nervous. I find driving in unfamiliar cities can be a bit daunting, no matter what side of the road you are on. Mind you, I am not afraid of doing it. But I do feel like the tighter and more crowded the space, the more possibilities there are for mistakes. As I entered the parking garage, I encountered the most stressful driving experience of the whole trip. The turns in this garage were ridiculously tight (man I wish I had the smaller car!) But those cameras proved invaluable. I didn’t hit anything, even if it did take me about three attempts per turn, eventually figuring out the correct turning radius by about the 6th try. We had been told that while this garage was closer to our hotel, there was a more navigable one down the road. I decided that when we left this one, we would use that one instead, no matter how long of a walk it was!
We stayed at The Residence Hotel Pluses: great staff, super cute decor, free water, nice beds, clean, comfortable, attached pub, location. Downside: oddly, the location. We were on the streetside, and the live music downstairs definitely made me grateful for earplugs!
Frankie and I guiltily chose Italian food for dinner that night. I say we felt guilty simply because we knew we wouldn’t be eating it if Carter had been with us, as he didn’t come from Sicily to eat pasta in Ireland, lol. Our meal at Venice Ristorante was a trip food highlight for sure.
From there we headed towards a recommended pub for a pint and some trad music. Tig Choili is in Galway’s Latin Quarter, just a few minutes from our hotel.
It was crowded with locals, with a few tourists squeezing in for good measure. They have live music every night, so check it out if you are in town.
On Wednesday, our goal was the Cliffs of Moher. I had planned an early-ish morning start, but my girl just felt so sick I let her sleep an extra couple of hours. While she rested, I took some time to wander the streets of Galway. It was quiet and beautiful. I do love this part of travel!
I enjoyed coffee and a sausage roll at a branch of the British chain Caffe Nero before bringing some hot tea and a chocolate croissant from Bar Italia Ciarlantini back to the hotel for Frankie. Fortified, we returned to the wretched parking garage and headed out.
When planning the trip, I asked the kids what they most wanted to do. Frankie chose castles and ruins, so I did my best to find what I could. On the way to the Cliffs, we took a slight detour to find Tyrone House. Built in 1779, it was not as old as many of the things we marveled at, but beautiful and eerie and worth a visit. Oh yeah: and it is currently inhabited by very friendly donkeys! And another oh yeah: we had to hop fences to get there. No signs that said no trespassing, but it isn’t exactly open to the public. But it is out in the countryside, surrounded by fields and sheep and private homes on their own acreages, so we felt it was worth the risk.
Back in the car, the girl napped while I admired the gorgeous countryside. I know this was the dead of winter, but it is scary to think the place gets prettier in the warm months! This was an adventurous day for me, where I learned how to navigate the narrow roads and share them with tractors, buses, and people who drove waaaay faster than myself!
Upon arriving at the Cliffs of Moher, we suited up, expecting it to be horribly windy and cold as we had been forewarned it would be. It really wasn’t that bad! I don’t know if we had a good day for it, or if everyone else was a little bit wimpy. We walked around and marveled at the scenery, and climbed a beautiful tower. Unfortunately, being outside was not making Frankie feel any better, so we didn’t hike around as much as we had planned.
My goal was to get back to Galway before nightfall. I just didn’t want to drive those narrow roads in the dark! I mean, there were zero streetlights on pretty much any of the roads we traveled, whether they were country lanes or freeways. But we were hungry, and we opted to detour to the town of Doolin, which was highly recommended for its charm, shops, and restaurants. On our way, we chanced upon Doonagore Castle.
Built in the 14th century, The castle was once the site of a mass hanging of more than 170 Spanish sailors whose armada ship crashed on the cliffs below. Now, it is privately owned and closed to the public, but you know us: we clambered over a stone wall and walked on over. We took a few quick pics before someone came and told us to leave, and continued on our way.
We came to where Google told us the bustling town of Doolin was located and found a couple of houses and a closed restaurant. I am not sure how we went wrong, but clearly, I’d put the wrong info into my GPS. Frustrated, I decided we would just go straight back to Galway since darkness was quickly closing in. Availing ourselves of the hotel receptionist’s suggestion, we parked at the harbor parking garage, which was spacious and easy to navigate. (However, when it came time to leave the next day, I screwed up by not prepaying and causing a minor traffic jam for those also trying to leave. Ugh).
For dinner, I tried to find a place that served lobster, as we had heard it was good in Ireland (mind you, this was for the girl. I don’t do seafood, but she had been feeling so yucky I wanted to make it happen for her). Google sent us to McSwiggan’s back in Galway, but: no lobster on the menu. So, she settled for calamari with her steak, which she liked very much. I got a very weird burger. It didn’t taste bad, just odd. I kept trying it over and over, trying to put my finger on it. It was just so dense! I think it was overground and overworked maybe? I don’t know. I have found that steaks in Europe are rarely up to my Midwestern standards (except in Florence, Italy), but burgers can be good. This just wasn’t to my taste. The beet tartine appetizer was amazing, though!
On Thursday we left Galway and headed southeast to Cork. But first, we had a very special stop to make.
Ashford Castle has belonged to many families over the years, including the Guinnesses. The medieval castle has been continuously inhabited and improved and has been a hotel since the 1930s. It is featured in many movies and TV shows and has had guests ranging from music stars to heads of state and everyone in between. It is gorgeous, and I want to go back and stay there. But for this visit, we were due first at the Ireland School of Falconry!
We met up with our guide, who showed us around the immaculate and spacious grounds. These birds have a stunning setup! We were outfitted with our gloves and received some basic instructions before we met our hawks, Mya and Atlas. With the birds on our arms, we wandered out to the grounds, and let them fly about, raising our arms when we wanted them to return. Watching them fly from tree to tree, hunting and soaring, was something I will never forget. Absolutely a highlight of the trip.
Afterwards, we were due for tea inside the castle. Sandwiches, pastries, tea, and champagne were a perfect cap off. Then we wandered the grounds, and explored the castle, dreaming of a return trip, before it was, sadly, time to get back on the road.
There was no way to avoid darkness this time, but as most of the drive was on multi-lane highways it wasn’t too bad. We were pointed towards Cork, the one destination I was unsure of. The travel boards kind of dismissed it, but it worked out well for us. We stayed at the River Lee Hotel. This was the most modern hotel of the trip, which was fine. It was large clean and well-located. The staff was great, and the parking was easy (yeah!). The only downside was the room temp. It was just cold! The staff felt terrible and brought us a space heater, which definitely helped.
I had already made reservations at a well-rated restaurant that was supposed to have lobster (they didn’t, lol). Cork has a foodie reputation, and I would agree with that based on our experience at The Cornstore. Beautifully decorated, the food was lovely and the drinks delicious. A terrific cap to a fantastic day.
Anyone who knows me thinks it’s probably ironic that I wanted to kiss the Blarney Stone, but I did. Legend has it that all who kiss it will be blessed with the gift of gab. I wonder: for the chatty Cathies that kiss it, does it have a silencing effect? Guess we will have to wait and see!
Blarney Castle was a short drive from Cork, which is one of the reasons I picked the town. The grounds were almost deserted, which is such a great perk about traveling in the shoulder season! It was clear from all the signage that this place must be packed in the warmer months. But the grounds were magical in the misty damp, and there was no way we could have enjoyed them if we weren’t basically all alone. And since you spent about 47 seconds at the actual stone, I would have hated waiting in line for it!
That evening we went pub hopping and found one of our favorite ones in Ireland, Sin E was a snug little jewel box filled with handsome men in wool sweaters, tremendous music memorabilia, and even better trad music. It also had an adorable pit bull just hanging out, waiting for pets, which we happily doled out!
On Saturday we were to say goodbye to Ireland and head back to London. On the way back to the airport, I wanted to stop at various sites, but Frankie still wasn’t feeling her best. So, we just did one stop, and it was stunning. The Rock of Cashel has been around since pre-Christian days and was reportedly where St Patrick himself baptized kings and banished Satan (busy dude). In the interest of time, we didn’t book a tour, and if I go back, I will do so because I know I missed out on so much. But just walking around this amazing site was tremendous. One of the things I found fascinating was that the graves there are both ancient and recent, as it is the oldest working graveyard in Ireland.
After our quick stroll, we had brunch at a lovely local restaurant, the Ladyswell. A shared full Irish breakfast was a great last meal on the Emerald Isle!
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!
Shipping Up To…Well, You Know…
When the Covid restrictions started loosening, HWSNBN and I decided to make a break for it. He had vacation time to burn, so I got out the old computer and started looking for a getaway destination. We decided on Boston.
Why Boston? We were often asked. A couple of reasons, really: one, I have never been and, being the history dork that I am, have always wanted to check it out. Two, we now have a nephew going to med school at Tufts (hi, Marco!) so we would be able to see him and feed him. Three, it’s such an easy place to get to, weather was good, I got good deals on a hotel, and Boston was waking up, but wasn’t swamped yet with tourists. We didn’t get to go to some places we would’ve liked, as some stuff was still closed down, but that’s ok. There’s always next time!
We stayed at The Liberty, a former jail turned into a hotel.
The rooms were cute and comfortable, the lobby is incredible, and the location can’t be beat.
Oh — and Saturday nights the lobby becomes a multi-level club!
After we dumped our luggage, we decided to wander around in nearby Beacon Hill and grab lunch. We ended up at The Paramount. You know a good sign of a local restaurant? Hungover college kids scarfing down brunch.
Being a sucker for all things old and pretty and historic, I totally geeked out in our post-lunch stroll.
After our stroll, we grabbed a cocktail in the lobby, then headed upstairs to get ready for dinner. We were headed to Cambridge, home of Harvard. We weren’t able to get indoor reservations at our chosen restaurant, Alden and Harlow, unfortunately. The location was lovely, and the food was great, but we were chilly. And, TBH, the service was bad. Polie, but slower than paying off that debt being accrued by all those Harvard students. We enjoyed our meal, then got back on the train to thaw out!
HWSNBN enduring my photography 
Local Burrata with corn shortcake 
Roasted beet plate with Ricotta 
Fresh Pasta 
Pork Belly 
The next day was Mother’s Day, and I celebrated with one of my fave activities: a scavenger hunt! I wanted to do the Freedom Trail, but, due to Covid, they weren’t doing guided tours. But I knew from experience (which you’ve probably read about in my blogs) that scavenger hunts are a great way to explore and learn about cities. We started at Boston Common, but HWSNBN needed a coffee first. I waited for him at the starting point in the park.
I was surprised when A) he took forever, and B) he had three drinks. When he saw my raised eyebrow he said, “don’t ask.” I laughed, grabbed the extra drink, and went over to a group of folks sleeping nearby who looked like they could use a treat. My offer was quickly accepted, and we loaded up the hunt.
In case you are on unfamiliar, the Freedom Trail is a fancy name for a 2-3 mile walk linking a bunch of historic locations. The trail itself is very helpfully marked like this:
Some of the highlights for me included the Granary Burying Ground, which is the third oldest cemetery in Boston. Founded in 1660, you’ll find the graves of Paul Revere, Sam Adams and two other signers of the Declaration of Independence, and several Boston Massacre victims, among others.
We grabbed a quick lunch at Faneuil Hall Marketplace, then continued up to the North End. It’s a lovely old neighborhood — now known for lots of great Italian places, but steeped in history. We saw Paul Revere’s House, and attempted to get a drink at the oldest pub in America, The Bell in Hand. Alas, the pandemic put the kibosh on that plan, so we settled for a beer and a snack at The White Bull Tavern.
We continued onward, into parks and over bridges, up to Bunker Hill and through charming neighborhoods, until it was time to head back to get ready for dinner.
As I mentioned previously, our nephew is in his first year of med school in Boston. That night, we took him and his girlfriend out to dinner at Deauxave. We had a really nice time — so much so that we missed all their cues and had to politely be informed that they were closing. Ooops! After leaving a hefty tip, we went our separate ways, and promised to meet up for dinner again the next night.
Monday morning we went back to the Paramount and had breakfast. I had been intrigued by their boozy slushies te day before, so enjoyed one of those with a big ole stack of blueberry pancakes. Gotta love a vaca brekkie!
We set off afterwards to get the obligatory picture required of all who grew up watching NBC on Thursday nights in the 80s:
But our main goal that day was spending time at the New England Aquarium. I’m usually the one in charge of tickets and reservations and other planning stuff, but for some reason I was struggling to buy the tickets online. Frustrated and impatient, HWSNBN took over and did it on his phone. Smugly, he went up to the ticket booth to show our reservation — only to be told he had purchased tickets for another attraction in another city. The gentleman in the booth said it happened often, but I don’t think that alleviated his embarrassment. I giggled a little (I know, I’m bad.).
The aquarium was lovely! Every time I go to a place like this, I marvel at the weird life that exists underwater. I know that freaks people out, but I think it’s fascinating. For a hot minute, Sailor Boy considering being a Marine Biologist, and I was excited. I mean, he still has a career that has to do with the sea, right?
We also always have that “if money were no object” conversation, about how we would have an epic saltwater aquarium in a home if we could — the kind where you hire folks in scuba gear to deal with it. Wouldn’t it be cool to chill out at the end of the dy and just watch this kid of stuff:
This octopus tripped me out as well:
That evening, we again dined with Marco (but sans GF). We went to a beautiful place called Yvonnes’s. We ate in the gorgeous main dining room — but next time I want to try and get into the exclusive back room. In the meantime, I made myself comfortable.
Tuesday was our last day, but our flight wasn’t until the evening so we filled in the blanks. We enjoyed Boston Commons park first. Spring was in full force!
Next it was back to Harvard, to wander the campus and the surrounding area.
As is the case with every place we travel to, we didn’t get to do nearly everything I wanted — so many museums were closed, as were all the Harvard buildings, any historic sites, MIT and more. I really want to go back and visit Salem, as well. Maybe I’ll tack it all onto a genealogy research trip? Anyway: not sure where our next adventure will take us, but my bags are at the ready!
From Beaches to Snowbanks
I hadn’t taken on a new foster since before the pandemic, and I was itching for one. So I got two.
Not just any two. And not just from anywhere. We flew down to St Thomas, USVI, and brought back two scaredy dogs.
It started with an email to our International Program Coordinator. Did we have any contacts there? Could she find me some dogs to bring back? She was worried that it would be tough with the late notice, especially since we didn’t have established contacts there, but she’d try.
Meanwhile, we were on vacation, and I happened to strike up a conversation with a boat captain. He told me he was good friends with someone who worked with the St Thomas Humane Society I asked for her contact info, and reached across the aisle.
Did they think we could make it happen? They, too, weren’t sure. But they have a robust international program called Pets With Wings so are very experienced, and they got on the task.
The next few days were full of calls, texts and emails. Could we take cats? Dogs? Bonded pairs? Any breed restrictions? They were feeling us out, as they needed to know they could trust us. Luckily the organizer has heard of Secondhand Hounds and was willing to take a chance on us — and me.
When you travel with a dog to be adopted, there are lots of restrictions. May depend on the airline, and each airline might have different restrictions and requirements depending on where the flight originated. For example: I needed animals small enough to fit in carriers under the seat in front to me; they couldn’t be too young; they had to be healthy. So Rhea worked her magic in the Caribbean, and Taylor finagled from the cold, bold North. And Tammy met me at the airport.
Meet Tulip and Trillium, sisters (presumably from different misters) who were trapped as part of the island’s save the strays program.
The girls are about 4 months old, and scared of everything. Tammy was especially worried that we would try to rush them into acclimating, but I reassured her we would take it slowly.
We got all checked into our Delta flight (they were awesome).
The pups were drowsy thanks to a little Benadryl, and settled into the flight easily. We never heard a peep from them for the whole six hour flight.
When we got them home, I let them out of their carriers, and let them wander into the house on their own. Well, Tulip walked in, took her first right and found my dog’s kennel. Trillium frantically followed, and there they stayed. All night. No interest in food or water, and definitely not interested in the humans. When Stevie Nicks sniffed at them through the door, Tulip growled a little, but that was it. We all went to bed.
On our first full day with them, I began Operation Ignore the Dogs. When you have super skittish pups, they need to learn to trust you. Who knows what these babies endured in their little lives! They were not aggressive at all, but would cower whenever I tried to approach them.
They stuck around the laundry room (that’s where their kennel domain is), ad got busy catching up on what they didn’t do the day before: eat, drink, poop, pee.
Repeat.
If I tried to approach the kennel, they would press their bodies against the back wall and scratch like they were trying to escape.
Periodically I would come in the room and lay down prone on the floor, stick my hand in the kennel, and not look at them. It took awhile, but eventually Trillium, the black one, would do a cautious sniff — then a scurry.
The next day they decided to explore. First they discovered my closet, which is attached to the laundry room. That was interesting with its piles of unwashed vacation laundry. Then they expanded their horizons, going into the adjoining bathroom, then our bedroom. I decided to try something: I scattered kibble down the long hallway to the main part of the house. As long as they couldn’t see or hear me, they would nibble and follow the trail.
When in my office, which shares a wall with that hallway I could hear scampering feet, so knew they were getting braver. A peek around the corner discovered playing puppies! Things like that were big steps I knew If they felt comfortable enough to let their guard down and play, even for a second, we were making progress.
They discovered a dog bed in the great room.
Decided that was cool — but not awesome enough to stick around when they saw me. Back to the kennel!
The next day they decided they were obsessed with Stevie Micks. Not like, hey, she seems cool, maybe we could hang” way. But as in an OMIGODWHERE HAVE YOU BEEN WHERE AE YOU GOING? CAN WE TOUCH YOU? way. They would just flirt mercilessly, curling their bodies and lowering to the ground, frantically wagging tails and bowed ears.
Stevie thought they were weird. She kept escaping outside, which stressed them out terribly. They would cry and whine when she left, certain that the great glass portal door had swallowed her up for all eternity, never to return. I didn’t need to with the door when she wanted back in: the puppies would whine and scratch and jump around — until I walked over. Then they would sprint to the other room, torn between fear for me and lust for Stevie.
I started using that lust to my advantage. I’d put my had out for sniffs when they wanted her back in. Sometimes it worked, but rarely.
They started being naughty: dragging things from suitcases. Chewing slippers. Trillium realized she could jump on the couch. Tulip, a good 5 pounds heavier and three inches taller, wouldn’t get there for a few days. Taunting ensued.
We decided to see how they would do outside. We don’t have a fenced yard, so double-leashing was a must. That’s tricky, when they don’t let us near. But we managed, and out we all went.
They had a ball! Who knew little beachy babies would love the snow? Of course, the main quest was attempting closeness with Stevie, who loves to run and chase and knock puppies over. They were all in. Until, of course, I decided they had been barefoot in the snow for long enough. HWSNBN managed to grab Trillium, who screamed like she was being gutted. I used Stevie to lure Tulip in, so that was a little less dramatic but no less stressful. We have not tried the front yard since.
They prefer napping, anyway.
I have tried to get them used to the leash, by coating it with peanut butter and laying it on the ground. I don’t think they hate the leash — they just hate us getting close enough to put them on (and God forbid we hold the end when we do get them on). I’m going to reach out to the SHH trainers for advice on that.
We’ve had them now almost two weeks. Occasionally I can get close enough to pet or scratch them, but they certainly don’t relax when I do. I wish I could start house training them, but that’s just going to have to wait until we get more trust. I’d also love to get them outside for walks, but again, we seem to be a ways away for that. There may come a day when I decide to separate them, but I don’t think they are there yet, I don’t know that they are relying on each other exactly, so that may not be necessary. I am not ready for them to go up on the website yet: if they won’t let me touch them, bring potential adopters into the house could be traumatic.
I am not frustrated: I have four months of fear to overcome. I am sad they are missing out on walks and pets and cuddles, but all of a sudden one day it will click, and there will be no turning back. I know that they have lives of love ahead of them! And I know that if not for the valiant efforts of rescuers almost 2,500 miles apart, they would most likely have ended up with terrible lives.
So for now, I will continue to throw kibble around, and hope that one day they will look at me with as much joy as they do Stevie Nicks!
If you would like to save a dog or cat when you travel next, and live in the Minnesota area, click here for more information. If you are not in our area, contact your local rescue, or find a rescue in the country you are visiting.
Same Island, Different Feel
Once again, when the calendar turned to Labor Day weekend, we packed the car and headed to Madeline Island, WI.
Our plan was to leave no later than 10am, which would put us at the ferry in Bayfield around 2:30, but HWSNBN got sucked into phone calls and couldn’t pack up the car. Usually I drive so he can do work calls and sleep, but this time it just didn’t happen. And normally, showing up late isn’t a big deal, as ferries typically run back to back about every 20-30 minutes. However: we received an email from our rental landlords (the wonderful Madeline Island Vacations) the night before, letting us know that winds were high and the last ferry would be around 8pm.
When I read the email, I wasn’t worried. That would be an exceptionally late time for us to arrive.
But as his calls lingered on and on and on, and the hours passed, I started getting concerned. We made good time on the drive up, but, as we approached Bayfield (where we catch the ferry), I suggested that he check the website and see if there had been any updates. Sure enough, the winds were really bad, and the last ferry was now going to be 5pm.
It was 4:30, and we were 40 minutes away.
HWSNBN started to panic, urging me to drive faster and faster. I sped up, but decided that even though I was the only car on a pretty straight, relatively flat country road, I wasn’t willing to break the sound barrier just because he was late leaving. I calmly asked him to start looking into places for us to stay the night. He refused. He called the ferry, hoping to ask them to wait. They didn’t answer. As we reached town, of course I had to slow down, which of course meant his heart raced faster. I pulled up to the ferry line where the boat was still docked, but there was a truck towing a trailer in line before us.
We sat, and waited, and wondered if they’d let us on.
The ferry people were walking around the truck and trailer, and the guy finally shook his head and motioned us forward. We got the last spot on the ferry, simply because trailer dude didn’t fit. We sailed across (with our ass hanging off the back of the boat, according to HWSNBN), not nearly as relaxed as we usually are on the ferry to Madeline. But there is nothing like it once you are there!
It was an unusual start to an unusual weekend. The island has five restaurants, and two were closed early for the season due to COVID-19. The others were take out only. The place was unusually busy, crowded with lots of new faces. I guess everyone needed a getaway, and you saw folks all over the island wandering around with maps. Which is really funny, because the island may be 14 miles long and 3 miles wide, but the business district can be walked end to end in 10 minutes.
Don’t get me wrong: there’s a lot to see and do. But, sadly, not as much as usual. Yeah, Tom’s Burned Down Café was open, but only allowed a few folks in at a time. You could get a garlic burger and Superman ice cream at Grandpa Tony’s, but you wouldn’t be sitting at a table with an oversized playing card signifying your order number.
As we ran into the map clutchers, we gently suggested they come back when the pandemic was settled, as the island usually has a much more vibrant energy .
As for us, we did just fine. We stayed at a new cabin this time, called Haven House, and it may just be our favorite ever. One of our friends asked if we get tired of staying at new places all the time, but not at all. It’s great finding new island treasures, and this one was fantastic.
HWSNBN and I usually go up on Thursday, while our friends follow the next day. So the first night we ordered take out from The Pub, opened a bottle of wine and played cribbage in front of the fire. It was a perfect kickoff to the weekend.
The next day I read a book outside while he hit a bucket of balls, and Stevie Nicks kept an eye on the local wildlife.
When our friends arrived on the island, we all grabbed takeout again, this time from Cafe Seiche, and ate it at their cabin. After dinner we played drinking games and let all our dogs run amok on the golf course (it’s a pretty casual place, is Madeline).
Saturday was golf for the fellas, and the beach for the dogs and the ladies.
Sadly, this was not a warm weekend. The windy theme that rushed us onto the island Thursday never let up. Our paddleboards didn’t get any use — they just enjoyed a nice roundtrip strapped to the top of the car. We hosted dinner that night, and finished the night by the bonfire.
Sunday was pretty much a repetition of Saturday — golf and beach, but with a little stroll downtown in the afternoon, including a visit to the charming Bell Street Gallery, which is always good for live music and an adult beverage, and, of course, lovely local art work. Then we meanedered back to enjoy a cocktail at The Pub’s fantastic new patio area (it’s not a Madeline Island trip without a Bootleg or two!).
The group all headed back to our place to play Kubb, a fun game at which I do NOT excel. then dinner at their place, with more laughs and dog merriment.
It’s a predicable weekend, and maybe that’s why we love it so much. We know we will eat, drink, laugh and run around after dogs. After the craziest 6 months the world has ever experienced, that’s all you really need.
Ain’t no Mountain High Enough, Ain’t no Water Blue Enough
I’m a Minnesotan by choice, but I was raised a California girl. I don’t miss much about the Golden State, besides the people I left behind, as there’s not much there I can’t find here. Except for one thing: mountains.
I recently flew back west to enjoy a girls’ weekend with some high school classmates. One of them has a stunning house in Truckee, so we headed up there for some sun, fun, wine and lip syncing! Not much I’m gonna say about all that (what happens in Tahoe, stays in Tahoe), but I do want to share some of the gorgeous scenery. If you’ve never been to Lake Tahoe, you really should put it on your bucket list.
Enjoy!
The view from the backyard at Heidi’s house doesn’t suck
The next day we went boating — thanks Chip for being our Captain, and Shabi, the dog, for being the bestest mascot!
Lake Tahoe’s water is famously stunning!
We boated by the Thunderbird Lodge, which I’d ever heard fo before. So beautiful, and evidently lots of history.
The next day we hiked around before lunch and driving back to the Bay Area. The other girls were after exercise — I just wanted to play tourist and soak up a few last moments. It had been at least 12 years since i had last been in the mountains, and I have no idea when I will be luck y enough to go back!
Summer is for The Dogs
You’ve heard it said before: our pets are loving quarantine. The only thing Stevie Nicks likes better than us staying home with her, is her going on vacation with us.
For the fourth of July weekend, we travelled up north to one of our fave places, Madeline Island, WI.
It was a different trip than usual: no dining inside restaurants, no bar hopping, no hanging by the pool. So it was take the dogs to beaches, day after day.
They loved it.
This was Stevie’s second trip to the island, but it was the first for her friend Lyle, and the umpteenth for old man Monte. At first Stevie was swimming laps around Lye-Lyle corocdile, butt after a day or so Lyle was kicking her doodle butt at stick fetching!
Lyle, the black doodle above, has a neat trick: he likes to dive for rocks. We didn’t understand at first, but as you’ll see in the following slideshow, he likes to sort through the rocks underwater with his paws, and pull one where he can get it, then sticks his head underwater!
Monte is the handsomest boy, but he has never been a big stick chaser. He’d rather catch water in the air, or the occasional rock. He’s 14 now, and fighting cancer, so we were happy to see him enjoy himself!
Lyle and Monte are brothers, and they tried to play together a bit, but Lyle is a puppy and his crazy speed revs a bit higher than Monte’s.
Oh yes: there were humans on the trip as well!
Goof balls. They managed it, but man they looked silly!
We head back up in a month or so. I think the dogs are already in the car, waiting to go!
Sleeping Around Seattle
Hey now! I didn’t say sleeping around IN Seattle. Get your mind out of the gutter!
No, this is about our last trip before the world melted. It was a mini vaca of sorts to Seattle and a few surrounding areas, taken to witness and celebrate Sailor Boy’s re-enlistment in the US Navy.
He could pick any time, really, to do this, as long as it was done a certain amount of time before his contract was up. We chose the last weekend in February, because it was the beginning of Singer Girl’s spring break, and she was able to escape and meet us cross country. She’d never been to Washington, so we decided to add some touristing to the schedule.
Sailor Boy picked us up at SEA-TAC, and we took the long, meandering way around Puget Sound to get to Bremerton, where his aircraft barrier is docked. We had a lot planned for the next three days, and, as we were eager to get to sleep — but we were hungry. Thought a drive-through would be a good quick option, but evidently, Taco Bell is the place to be after 9pm in a Navy town. An hour later, our border run complete, we stuffed tacos u our faces and fell asleep.
The next day we had to meet Sailor Boy and his fellow sailors for the swearing-in. It’s always interesting being a civilian at these things, as you really don’t get all the procedures and, frankly, they speak another language.
First, he was honorably discharged from the Navy, which took me by surprise. I didn’t expect that step, and for a moment I thought “he is free — maybe he should walk away?” Evidently, I wasn’t the only one thinking that because a sailor piped up “Run!” But everyone laughed, and his lieutenant shifted gears to swear him back in. Last time I saw him sworn in he was freshly out of high school, and we were all a little terrified about what was coming next. It was easier this time, even if it meant not having him home for an even longer period.
But we had him now — for the next 48 hours!
All were invited to a celebratory lunch at his favorite restaurant in town, The Curry. It was fun breaking bread with the sailors who were able to join us! Next, it was off to the ship. Singer Girl had never been on the aircraft carrier before, so a tour was a must-see.
The next stop on our agenda was checking into a new hotel, in a different town. My brother and sister in law live in Olympia, so we were meeting them for dinner. As always, we were fashionably late on our drive to the new digs. But we cleaned up quicky then feasted at one of their favorite places, Basilico Ristorante.
After dinner we hung at their house, celebrating and going through my brother’s record collection. He let Singer Girl pick 10 of them as a birthday gift, and it was so fun listening to them — especially since so many of them had been our parents’. It was bittersweet in retrospect, as my parents had been huge Kenny Rogers fans back in the day, and he passed away so shortly after this. Gotta love The Gambler!
The next morning we checked out and hustled back to Bremerton to have brunch at Sailor Boy’s fave diner, the Big Apple Diner. I love this place, too! Super kitschy and great food (the potato pancakes are to die for!). After eating it was time to get on the ferry to Seattle.
I loved that someone had left a puzzle on one of the tables. Singer Girl and I tucked in and got to work. Who knew that would be the first in a series of puzzles in the coming months?
Once in Seattle, we checked into our VRBO. I picked a place right downtown, minutes from the ferry and walking distance to everything. If you are looking for a place, check it out.
Before we left, I borrowed a date night trick and booked a scavenger hunt via Groupon. I love these as a way to get to know a city and to give you an idea of what you want to come back to. We started up by the Space Needle, wandered around by the museums and gardens there, then headed back down towards Pike’s Market and other downtown sites. Halfway through we met up with our niece/cousin Alyssa who lives and works in Seattle.
As always, whenever I get near a market, I am camera happy. The colors are always too tempting for me!
Scavenger hunt completed, we went back to the condo to chill and get ready to go out to dinner. Dinner was at an awesome place — in all ways. The ambiance was terrific, the food was delicious, service outstanding! If you happen to be in Seattle, check out Toulouse Petit!
HWSNBN had to fly back on Sunday, so it was just the three of us left to pal around. At Sailor By’s suggestions, we breakfasted at a Seattle landmark, Biscuit Bitch.
I had an orange latte, and the Cheesy Pork n’ Bitch,(middle picture), which was biscuits and gravy with bacon and cheddar cheese. Sailor Boy had the Smokin’ Hot Bitch — biscuits, gravy, andouille sausage, and jalapenos. Singer Girl had some sort of breakfast sandwich which looked awesome — until a hunk fell on the ground. Sadness.
We had some calories to burn so we headed north to where we started our scavenger hunt the day before. Our intended destination was MoPOP, the Museum of Popular Culture. This place is a must-see! It highlights everything from music to TV, Movies, books, art and more.
Some of my fave exhibits:
Next, it was off to the Chihuly Museum, another fantastic place. Yeah, it sounds kind of boring: a bunch of glass sculptures. But seriously amazing.
Singer Girl is not a fan of museums, so she had grumbled at our itinerary when I revealed it that morning. But she loved both!
We did a bit more wandering (and a lot more photography for Singer Girl’s Insta page). The next day it was back home for us and back to the ship for the Boy. During the two days there we heard rumblings about the Coronavirus outbreak in Seattle and joked that we probably all had it. Thankfully, almost a month later, I can say we most likely did not. But unbeknownst to all of us, this was the last trip for a while.
I am glad we had the time together!
A little Ado About Everything 