This morning I noticed that my earliest blogs from pre-London times are GONE! SO, that was all it took for me to back up our blog and I'll continue keeping it in word in case anyone wants a 3000 page account of our life in London :-)
Yesterday, on the tube, I had the pleasure of sitting next to a man who told his friend that all the immigrants should be gassed--specifically the n-words and the c-words. It's so lovely when you get to sit next to people like that!
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Richmond!
On Sunday, as we were lounging around in our pajamas and contemplating the day ahead of us, Jim suggested that we take a picnic. We didn't want to go any place we had already been, so Jim got on the internet and did some research and we agreed to head down south to Richmond--one stop on the train past Kew Gardens (see previous blogs about Kew Gardens).
Of course, no adventure in or around London is complete unless we forget our A to Z, which has every street in London on it. SO, as usual, we left that behind and hopped on the Silverlink out of West Hampstead. If any of you are contemplating going to Kew Gardens or Richmond from West Hampstead, the Silverlink is the way to do it...especially on the weekend, when half the tubelines are down for "planned engineering." Even the Silverlink was partially down, but we have been lucky this weekend that none of the planned engineering affected us (for once. In addition to leaving our map behind every chance we get, we also are very good at forgetting to check the status of the tube/train, which is vital on the weekends).
The Silverlink took us to the last stop: Richmond! THen we hopped on a bus, which dropped us off right around the corner from Richmond Park. The park was developed by some King or Lord because he wanted to have deer to hunt. There is a wall all around it, which was originally meant to keep the deer in. Unfortunately, we didn't see any of the famous deer, but we saw a lot of other people!
Richmond Park has great trails running through it and looks a lot different than the other manicured parks within London (with the exception of Hampstead Heath, which also has a more natural feel). We hiked down a trail and set up our picnic under some trees. Bunnies were coming in and out of their dens all around us and we were very good friends with some ravens/crows by the end of our lunch.
Here is Jim getting ready to hike down the trail that eventually led to our picnic spot:
He was such a gentleman and let us use his jacket as a tablecloth, since we don't have enough blankets yet, to spare any for things like picnics:
I spent a lot of time trying to get this crow/raven to eat bread out of my hand. He would have done it if I had kept at it for a couple of more hours. He would circle from the back and hop and little closer and a little closer....but he always got scared at the last minute.
After our picnic, we walked up past one of the lodges, which was surrounded by daffodils and other flowers that we have on the farm in Louisiana. We crossed into a wooded area where we saw a green woodpecker! Some annoying kid scared it away, though.
Because the train station was actually very close to the park, we decided to walk back up Richmond Hill. The hill overlooked the Thames and down below people were walking on a trail that went along the Thames. There were also ice cream trucks everywhere. Jim enjoyed a cone and you can kind of see the river behind him. It was a really beautiful view.
Eventually we made it to the high street and down to an area next to the river, where people were sitting in the sun and enjoying an afternoon pint. It was during this span of time that we decided that British women take "hoochie" to a whole new level...London is Dallas times 10! We were quite the fuddy duddies in our cords and fleece jackets and pale non-orange complections and I think that half of the people out on the hill were actually on the prowl. But we were having a great time just feeding the ducks in fuddy duddy marital bliss. We didn't get a picture of him, but one of the geese was definitely Buster in goose form. He was begging for food, soulful eyes and all.
Here is the scene from the bank of the river (in the area where we were feeding the ducks and mingling with the locals)
When we decide we don't want to be so central, Richmond is definitely a place to consider. Next weekend, I think we are going to try to catch the Cambridge vs. Oxford boat races!
Of course, no adventure in or around London is complete unless we forget our A to Z, which has every street in London on it. SO, as usual, we left that behind and hopped on the Silverlink out of West Hampstead. If any of you are contemplating going to Kew Gardens or Richmond from West Hampstead, the Silverlink is the way to do it...especially on the weekend, when half the tubelines are down for "planned engineering." Even the Silverlink was partially down, but we have been lucky this weekend that none of the planned engineering affected us (for once. In addition to leaving our map behind every chance we get, we also are very good at forgetting to check the status of the tube/train, which is vital on the weekends).
The Silverlink took us to the last stop: Richmond! THen we hopped on a bus, which dropped us off right around the corner from Richmond Park. The park was developed by some King or Lord because he wanted to have deer to hunt. There is a wall all around it, which was originally meant to keep the deer in. Unfortunately, we didn't see any of the famous deer, but we saw a lot of other people!
Richmond Park has great trails running through it and looks a lot different than the other manicured parks within London (with the exception of Hampstead Heath, which also has a more natural feel). We hiked down a trail and set up our picnic under some trees. Bunnies were coming in and out of their dens all around us and we were very good friends with some ravens/crows by the end of our lunch.
Here is Jim getting ready to hike down the trail that eventually led to our picnic spot:
He was such a gentleman and let us use his jacket as a tablecloth, since we don't have enough blankets yet, to spare any for things like picnics:
I spent a lot of time trying to get this crow/raven to eat bread out of my hand. He would have done it if I had kept at it for a couple of more hours. He would circle from the back and hop and little closer and a little closer....but he always got scared at the last minute.
After our picnic, we walked up past one of the lodges, which was surrounded by daffodils and other flowers that we have on the farm in Louisiana. We crossed into a wooded area where we saw a green woodpecker! Some annoying kid scared it away, though.
Because the train station was actually very close to the park, we decided to walk back up Richmond Hill. The hill overlooked the Thames and down below people were walking on a trail that went along the Thames. There were also ice cream trucks everywhere. Jim enjoyed a cone and you can kind of see the river behind him. It was a really beautiful view.
Eventually we made it to the high street and down to an area next to the river, where people were sitting in the sun and enjoying an afternoon pint. It was during this span of time that we decided that British women take "hoochie" to a whole new level...London is Dallas times 10! We were quite the fuddy duddies in our cords and fleece jackets and pale non-orange complections and I think that half of the people out on the hill were actually on the prowl. But we were having a great time just feeding the ducks in fuddy duddy marital bliss. We didn't get a picture of him, but one of the geese was definitely Buster in goose form. He was begging for food, soulful eyes and all.
Here is the scene from the bank of the river (in the area where we were feeding the ducks and mingling with the locals)
When we decide we don't want to be so central, Richmond is definitely a place to consider. Next weekend, I think we are going to try to catch the Cambridge vs. Oxford boat races!
Our first football game and how we almost caused a riot (indirectly)
Today, thanks to free tickets from a guy Jim works with, we went to our first (and my last) London football game. It was definitely a cultural experience, but one that I would prefer not to repeat.
The game was between Fulham and Portsmouth and we were sitting on the Fulham side. In our typical fashion, we strolled into the stadium about ten minutes after kick off, found our seats, started to say hello to the people who gave us the tickets, but were quickly told by them to sit down and be quiet (they weren't mad or anything, but I guess we shouldn't have gotten there late). All around us were the Fulham fans--mostly middle aged, white men with their sons of various ages. The mood was vicious and, in our section, we were surrounded by yellers, who oscillated between screaming curse-filled insults at the players and the fans of the other teams, and singing curse-filled songs at the players and the other fans. Fathers and sons alike (even LITTLE sons) dropped the f bomb left and right and made racist comments and death wishes aimed at the Portsmouth players. There was no drinking going on and I was scared to talk (which is usually what I do at sporting events. I can't remember one game in the past where I actually paid attention). We were sitting so close together that whenever the guy behind me screamed, "Come on Boys!!!" the back of my sweater moved and I could feel his breath on my neck. Someone also had gas, which was making things even more unbearable. You would think that wouldn't be an issue in an open air stadium, but when you are packed in like sardines, it is.
Just before the half-time, an outburst erupted in the row before us. Doug, the man who gave us our tickets, was being screamed at by a VERY angry Fulham fan who kept saying "don't laugh (f-bomb). I'll get you (f-bomb) kicked out of here right now! You won't (f-bomb) be (f-bomb) here for the next half." He then raced off to get one of the many security people. It turns out that Doug is a Portsmouth fan and, I guess to reduce the riots, the fans are supposed to remain segregated--Fulham on one side and Portsmouth on the other. The Fulham man, as Doug put it, "Would rather eat his children than sit next to a fan from the opposing team," and was hell-bent on getting us kicked out of the game (although I don't think he really had factored Jim and me into the equation. We were staying very quiet.) A few minutes later, the security guard came over and told Doug that he wasn't allowed to be in the seats if he was a Portsmouth fan and then went off to talk to his supervisor about having us re-seated. I was shocked that someone can have a valid ticket and be told to leave because someone else was so much of a baby that he couldn't bear the idea of having "the enemy" sitting behind him. The supervisor never came, our host swore not to make a peep about Portsmouth, and when the angry man came back and found out that we were still there, he asked "WHY ARE YOU SITTING HERE!!!??" Doug explained that his boss had given him the tickets and the guy said, "YOU SHOULDN'T BE HERE!!! HE SHOULD BE HERE NOT YOU!!!" Then he said, turning to all of the other fans and pointing at Doug, "THERE'S A PORTY HERE! RIGHT HERE!!!" You would have thought that we we were mass murderers or something, the way that he was reacting. Eventually his wife told him to be quiet and he was, but after that I felt so anxious about getting jumped or pushed down the stairs that I couldn't enjoy the game anymore and all I wanted was to get out of there. When the game finally ended and we could leave, I felt a huge sense of relief and realized that I haven't been that stressed in about three months.
So, football isn't for me, but Jim liked it and might write his opinion of the game. He's already looking for more tickets....
Here are some pictures from today:
We were very happy that even though the District Line was partially shut down for "planned engineering," the part that we needed to use was fully functioning.
While we were waiting for the tube, a huge group of people dressed in super hero costumes walked by. This isn't a great picture, but you get the idea. Later we saw some people dressed up like hippies. We haven't figured out whether or not there is another Halloween in London this weekend. Maybe they dress up for April Fools Day?
We followed the crowds through a park and into stadium. From the park, we could hear the screaming and singing from inside the stadium. Portsmouth, it turns out, had scored a goal during the first te minutes, which added to the anger that our ornery neighbor was feeling.
A Fulham player somehow jumped onto the shoulders of a Portmouth player, while kicking...and JIm caught it on film. Much to the dismay of the fans behind me, the Fulham player got charged with a foul.
And,the stadium, after the game. Did I mention that there was practically an entire police force outside of the stadium, in addition to the hundreds of security guards inside? If I were a criminal, I would definitely commit my crimes during the neighborhood football game because I can't imagine which police officers would be available. It was ridiculous!
Thank you Mom and Dad for making sure that I never had any interest in any sports besides tennis, a nice, peaceful game which only gets as violent as someone throwing a racket around and the occasional heated argument with the judges. I'm definitely going to Wimbledon.
The game was between Fulham and Portsmouth and we were sitting on the Fulham side. In our typical fashion, we strolled into the stadium about ten minutes after kick off, found our seats, started to say hello to the people who gave us the tickets, but were quickly told by them to sit down and be quiet (they weren't mad or anything, but I guess we shouldn't have gotten there late). All around us were the Fulham fans--mostly middle aged, white men with their sons of various ages. The mood was vicious and, in our section, we were surrounded by yellers, who oscillated between screaming curse-filled insults at the players and the fans of the other teams, and singing curse-filled songs at the players and the other fans. Fathers and sons alike (even LITTLE sons) dropped the f bomb left and right and made racist comments and death wishes aimed at the Portsmouth players. There was no drinking going on and I was scared to talk (which is usually what I do at sporting events. I can't remember one game in the past where I actually paid attention). We were sitting so close together that whenever the guy behind me screamed, "Come on Boys!!!" the back of my sweater moved and I could feel his breath on my neck. Someone also had gas, which was making things even more unbearable. You would think that wouldn't be an issue in an open air stadium, but when you are packed in like sardines, it is.
Just before the half-time, an outburst erupted in the row before us. Doug, the man who gave us our tickets, was being screamed at by a VERY angry Fulham fan who kept saying "don't laugh (f-bomb). I'll get you (f-bomb) kicked out of here right now! You won't (f-bomb) be (f-bomb) here for the next half." He then raced off to get one of the many security people. It turns out that Doug is a Portsmouth fan and, I guess to reduce the riots, the fans are supposed to remain segregated--Fulham on one side and Portsmouth on the other. The Fulham man, as Doug put it, "Would rather eat his children than sit next to a fan from the opposing team," and was hell-bent on getting us kicked out of the game (although I don't think he really had factored Jim and me into the equation. We were staying very quiet.) A few minutes later, the security guard came over and told Doug that he wasn't allowed to be in the seats if he was a Portsmouth fan and then went off to talk to his supervisor about having us re-seated. I was shocked that someone can have a valid ticket and be told to leave because someone else was so much of a baby that he couldn't bear the idea of having "the enemy" sitting behind him. The supervisor never came, our host swore not to make a peep about Portsmouth, and when the angry man came back and found out that we were still there, he asked "WHY ARE YOU SITTING HERE!!!??" Doug explained that his boss had given him the tickets and the guy said, "YOU SHOULDN'T BE HERE!!! HE SHOULD BE HERE NOT YOU!!!" Then he said, turning to all of the other fans and pointing at Doug, "THERE'S A PORTY HERE! RIGHT HERE!!!" You would have thought that we we were mass murderers or something, the way that he was reacting. Eventually his wife told him to be quiet and he was, but after that I felt so anxious about getting jumped or pushed down the stairs that I couldn't enjoy the game anymore and all I wanted was to get out of there. When the game finally ended and we could leave, I felt a huge sense of relief and realized that I haven't been that stressed in about three months.
So, football isn't for me, but Jim liked it and might write his opinion of the game. He's already looking for more tickets....
Here are some pictures from today:
We were very happy that even though the District Line was partially shut down for "planned engineering," the part that we needed to use was fully functioning.
While we were waiting for the tube, a huge group of people dressed in super hero costumes walked by. This isn't a great picture, but you get the idea. Later we saw some people dressed up like hippies. We haven't figured out whether or not there is another Halloween in London this weekend. Maybe they dress up for April Fools Day?
We followed the crowds through a park and into stadium. From the park, we could hear the screaming and singing from inside the stadium. Portsmouth, it turns out, had scored a goal during the first te minutes, which added to the anger that our ornery neighbor was feeling.
A Fulham player somehow jumped onto the shoulders of a Portmouth player, while kicking...and JIm caught it on film. Much to the dismay of the fans behind me, the Fulham player got charged with a foul.
And,the stadium, after the game. Did I mention that there was practically an entire police force outside of the stadium, in addition to the hundreds of security guards inside? If I were a criminal, I would definitely commit my crimes during the neighborhood football game because I can't imagine which police officers would be available. It was ridiculous!
Thank you Mom and Dad for making sure that I never had any interest in any sports besides tennis, a nice, peaceful game which only gets as violent as someone throwing a racket around and the occasional heated argument with the judges. I'm definitely going to Wimbledon.
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