Back to LA!

Monday 10/23/06

I started to try and sleep at 1am it does not appear I had much success until sometime after 3 – I am totally knackered because before I know it, the time is 5:50 am and it is time to jump out of bed like I had enough sleep and get that refreshing shower that makes everything seem right. About the shower/tub, every time I have stepped in it during this trip I felt like it was going to give way and send me hurtling down into the dark sewers. I know it is an irrational thought on my part but I can’t help it. The other thing is Papa Tony does not have a shower curtain so the small mercies is it is a hand held shower the other end of that is I feel like a religious supplicant when I am in it. You get the idea - no need to further feed your mental images!

Papa Tony was nice enough to make breakfast which consisted of pieces of the wonderful bread he made the night before and some strong instant coffee. As a good father, he accompanies us for part of the way to make sure we get to the highway safely. Once on the highway we turn on Maude but decide to ignore her recalculation entreaties because she feels we are going into going into heavy traffic ahead. She is right but she fails to realize that her recalculated route would have added an hour to our trip from Brighton to Heathrow airport and that is entirely unacceptable. Also, since John is really the one driving and this is his neck of the woods, I am not really inclined to differ.

Arrival at the airport took some time because of the traffic but we are there on time and check-in, security, and passport control all go without a hitch. The only small disappointment is we do not get an operational upgrade to business class – the economy plus cabin is not full enough. No matter the seats are great with enough room to have a good ole snooze.

Considering I did not get to see any of London, this has been a most interesting trip. I had occasion to meet all of the Briginshaw lot in England and I also got to see where my husband gets some of his traits. It was very funny to me that both John and Papa Tony were having a serious conversation over how many decimal places it comes to with Papa Tony being a day older than 70. They started going for who was more right and settled on he was 70.0027 years old on Sunday – Papa Tony is the mathematician and John is accountant. It would have been even more interesting if you added my father to the mix because he is a Pharmacologist and he deals in quantities as a profession. I guarantee he would have waited for the debate to be close to an end and given the final word on how old Papa Tony is when he is a day older that 70. It also made me laugh watching Grandpa B with Thomas because he talked to Thomas like a serious adult (the kid is 3!). John does the same with Thomas – maybe on a lesser scale – and it makes me wonder if he is really serious about having our kids read the NY Times by age 4.

Jane on the other hand is the peacemaker that creates the smooth flow of family. She and John brought everyone together. I can’t say much about the rest of the family but they are all pieces in the Briginshaw theatre that I will continue to meet over the next few years. As an onlooker and new addition to the family tree I can only attest to the symphony, chaos, and glee and have loved the privilege of being a small part of it. Rob turns 60 in 2 years – that should be even more interesting! Maybe by that time I would have figured out what Papa Tony’s Japanese name “Shoto” means or by then he would have a new one for me to decipher.

Adios amigos until our next adventure!!

We're in Salisbury!!

Wednesday & Thursday 10/18 - 19

We are in Salisbury!!!! But let me start from the beginning…in true Janet and John travelogue fashion something always happens. So, the flight is at 1:08pm. We are actually on time meaning a little more than an hour before the flight. We will disregard the fact that you need to be at the airport at least 2 hours before an international flight. There is only one person maybe two at counter and considering there were only 5 people ahead of us it took us almost 30 minutes to get to the counter and get checked in. Security lines are long and slow moving so we kill another 20 minutes anyway between that and hitting bookstore there is no time for the lounge (our only time to try it out) and we get to the gate with a little under 10 minutes to spare.

All is good and we push back from the gate and we are rolling along till we are called for take off. Mid roll the captain comes on and says we are veering out of line to a gate because the cargo hold needs to be rebalanced. It sounds like a joke and a fib till we actually stop at a gate and feel the plane rocking a bit like someone is really rebalancing stuff in the cargo hold. Well, there goes an hour. We take off for Heathrow a little after 2pm.

The flight was uneventful other than we decided in mid-flight to get Tony a present for his 70th birthday and Jane a bottle of perfume. We got a $10 off for the purchase for using the United Mileage card and when the attendant swiped John’s United Airlines credit card it also offered a 15% discount on the purchase. Unfortunately, we could not make good on both discounts so we chose the 15% off. Well, somehow she could not figure out how to ring up the purchase and it came up to $15 which was great and the best was it came up with $0. She was so frustrated with the machine! It was funny to watch. Thank God we were only buying 2 items!

Eleven hours later on a flight that was supposed to take 10 hours we get into Heathrow! We have no gate because we are quite late (2 hours!!) and we cruise around a bit to get one. After the long trek to customs (if you have every been to Heathrow you know what I mean – are we there yet?) and passport check, luggage claim and car rental and we are good to go. Before I get to the car rental can you imagine Heathrow with no lines? There was barely anyone in line at the passport/customs check and almost no one in the reception area after we got out. That is the emptiest I have seen Heathrow ever! There was no one!!!

About the car rental, they tell you to choose any car that is in row D. There were 7-9 cars in row D! So John ran around for a while from car to car trying to figure which one was worth the time of day! What a pain! I hate the system! Should we choose a plain Vectra or a Vectra SRI – how bloody hell should I know? Just tell what space my rental car is in and we’ll be on our way. What do you mean I have a choice between 7 cars??? Totally increases stress and stretches my sanity after a long flight! I wasn’t participating in the frenzied dash from car to car so I stayed put and waited for John to come to rational decision. After all of that we chose the plain Vectra with the least scratches on the carpeting in the trunk.

We are off to Stonehenge! We took the M4 to the M3. On the M3 John decides he can’t wait any longer for a good ole English breakfast in spite of my pleas to the contrary. We stop of off at one of the rest stops which has a large sign attesting to the fact that Little Chef will cater to our breakfast needs. We both get the English breakfast - I am too delighted there is no fried bread in sight. That stuff is evil. But the thing that is equally evil that I have entirely forgotten about is black pudding. There is this huge patty of it sitting on my plate dark red wine in color with nuts embedded (like that’s going to make a difference!). Anyway I taste in and pray it is haggis and they only got the coloring wrong. Well, it is black pudding and when I ask John for verification he says in a small voice that he did not want to tell me what it was because he knows I am not crazy about the stuff. The other thing I can’t stand is runny eggs or more specifically a runny yolk. So, when I made the mistake of breaking my yolk both it and the black pudding got transferred to John’s plate in a hurry. I was definitely not eating any more of that mess!!! Ugh!

Getting out of the restaurant parking lot was another feat. John just about burned out the clutch because he thought he was in reverse while he was actually in the first gear. About 4 tries later he discovered that you can’t go into reverse without lifting a safety on the gear stick. Gawd! The whole area around the car stunk with burnt clutch. P.s. I love automatic transmission.

Back to the highway to the A303 to the A344 and just over the hill in the distance towers Stonehenge it was a breath taking sight with just a little sun peeking between the clouds. I can see why it creates so much awe in everyone who sees it for the first time. Some cheap folks were walking along the fence and taking pictures along side. We, good members of the English Heritage sites, paid 4.99 pounds to get in. With came a little free gizmo that gave you a walking tour of the site. It is hard to describe the amount of awe you feel when you see the stones tower above like that and wonder how they stay upright. Also, the fact that it was rebuilt a number of times is also amazing. It is unfortunate that there is no real record of what they were used for other than maybe charting the sun. The mystery makes it a very compelling site to see.

After spending more than an hour at Stonehenge we decide it is time to head on to our hotel in Salisbury. Before this, we had tried to figure out the navigation system in the car and had failed but once we were stationary in the parking lot we figured it out. We got back on the road and it took us on this crazy short cut and we ended up in Salisbury and to our hotel the Pembroke Arms. Checked in and all we asked the receptionist where to go – she mentioned the Salisbury Cathedral. John, being a true brit, asked for a pub and she coughed up the Bear Inn as a good place to go. To get to the Cathedral she indicated parking was expensive and we could take the city bus outside the hotel, get off at city center and walk to the Cathedral. No problem there and that is exactly what we did. We paid 6 pounds total for the bus including return trip and wouldn’t you know that is exactly what it cost to park there!

The cathedral was lovely and there was a choir practicing and they just crowned the experience. It was great to walk around and read the tombstones – like in most churches in Europe. This seems to be King John country (you know the King Robin Hood made miserable) so there were a lot of references to him on the tombs. The blue stained glass in the center of the cathedral is just exquisite. The cathedral was in bad shape architecturally and it is going to take a total of 14m pounds and another 2 years to complete the restoration.

The other quite interesting thing and unexpected gem was in the small museum next door. It is called the Magna Carta and it is basically the first version of a constitution ever written and the one on which the American constitution was founded. About 40 copies were made by scribes and only 4 survived and you get to see one of those original copies up close. It was written in Latin on vellum and it is pretty well preserved. There are 63 clauses – it is hard to imagine so many clauses came out of a one-page document but it is really small script and most of the words and sentences were abbreviated.

We decided to honor John’s wish to go to a pub after that. He had a beer and I had a diet coke. It is interesting how the bartender can ask you if you would like ice in a drink like it is an utterly unacceptable thing to request. I disregard the disdain in his voice and say yes.

After the quick drink we head back to the evensong at the Cathedral which is like mass but with mostly music. It turns out the choir that was practicing earlier was visiting. This time they sang without instruction interruptions and it was heavenly. The high ceilings of the church just enhance their voices and the boom of the organ. Unfortunately we were both running on E at that point so it was hard to stay awake because the singing was so soothing.

After that it was back to the hotel on the bus and the hard decision about where to eat. The restaurant downstairs was looking a little empty and the lady said dinner ran from 7 – 8:30pm. Who would ever think dinnertime was so short? Just enough time for another quick drink at the bear inn and check it out for food. The bear inn proved to be just a bit of a disappointment in the food department in that there was none. John got another pint of beer and the British version of pork skins only they call them pork crisps. None for me, thank you very much – I don’t care if the packaging is different and they have a classier name they are still pork skins. Would not be caught dead eating them (my apologies to my sister who loves the mess out of them and to John of course). The highlight of the bar trip was the dog fell in love with me and wanted to play catch with its little red ball. Since dogs are not my thing and the ball had dog slobber all over it I had to figure out how to do this without touching the ball. I was not very successful at not touching the ball but the dog had these big brown eyes and I could not resist. She even left me alone when I looked her straight in the eyes and said “Sweetie, that’s enough” now if I could do that with other dogs we would get along just fine.

We hustled back to the hotel with 15 minutes to spare before dinner ended. We were the only ones there. Dinner was a bit pricey but it was good. My dessert was a lemon cheesecake. You know how in the South they say “hmmm-hm that’s some good”. That embodies how I felt about the cheesecake. It was not dense like cheesecake in the US it was light and almost fluffy. I was in hog heaven. It is from my food stupor that I say good night with a promise that I will sleeping on my back and don’t wake me till 8am. It is 11pm and I think I have done the best I could to stay up till now without crashing due to jet lag. John can’t say goodnight because he fell asleep an hour ago.

Road to Brighton

Friday 10/20/06

It was a large English breakfast morning: eggs, tomatoes, baked beans, toast and ham plus yogurt to start off the meal. After that meal and a climb up 3 flights of stairs I was exhausted but the show must go on. After a short repose we packed up all of our stuff checked out and headed for Brighton.

We had become good friends with the car’s navigational computer – we later named her Maude. Maude let us know how to get to Brighton. She is actually quite smart so she offered to redirect us for some parts of the way because traffic was so bad. Now, don’t you wish you had a chauffeur who could do that? This is the most I have seen of the English countryside since John and I dated and it is indeed splendid. Great expanses of green pastures for miles and miles of highway. We got to Brighton in about 2 hours from Salisbury. Maude was quite helpful at keeping us on the right track. John is not convinced that she saved us from bad traffic but considering we got into very few if any backups I differ in opinion. I must admit, though, I have never driven through so many round-abouts in one journey which is probably because she took us off the main highway – not a bad thing but I was sure glad John was driving.

We came directly to Papa Tony’s house and called on the intercom downstairs. John impersonated a delivery man and Papa Tony let us up to his flat (when in England it is “flat” not apartment). He says we did surprise him but I am not so sure. He was not supposed to know we were coming and it appears he didn’t but with the British “sang froid” as he calls it I can hardly tell. (this added later after he read it – he swears he was really surprised)

His apartment is gorgeous. You have to believe me when I never really considered England as having a seaside. Yes they are surrounded by plenty of water but no real beaches as Americans are used to. When I think of English beaches I think of something very close to the volcanic rock beaches in Kona, Hawaii. Well, this is as close to a beach as you can find here or at least in my limited experience on this big island. A number of his windows face the English channel so it is a great view where you can see the rolling waves in the distance and the seagulls are all cawing away constantly. Simply splendid.

We rest for a moment and Papa Tony plays something out of Billie Holiday’s songbook on the piano. We decide to go to Rottingdean to a pub and have a pub lunch. We went to a little pub close by and had ok fish and chip and peas. We then took a walk up the hill to see the rolling ball court, the convalescent home where Lord Briginshaw, John’s granddad (Papa Tony’s dad), presided over the union. Very pleasant looking place with a majestic gateway entrance – the houses have been rebuilt in to small cottages. On the way back down the hill we visited the gardens which were just exquisite. We headed back to Brighton for a bit of a rest till Jane and Pete make it here. It turns out they are on the M25 which is apparently the worst place to be on a Friday evening.

I think I will be taking a short nap too because John’s heavy breathing is doing a number on my eyelids.

Well, before we make it back to the house to get a catnap we drive by the Royal Pavillions which looks quite Indian in architecture. Unfortunately we were whizzing by in the car so the shot I have of it is of a bunch of fuzzy out-of-focus green trees and half a shot of one of the doorways – I think.

Soooo, after 3 or so hours of a light snooze with a number of wake-up calls with updates on Jane and Pete’s progress on the highway we are up for the second half of the evening. Papa Tony is preparing dinner and we are trying to figure out how to stay out of his way because when we talk to him he forgets what he was doing. John being the talkative one forgets that he needs the quiet and keeps interrupting his trip to somewhere to retrieve something. The more times he goes back and forth the grumpier he gets. I can’t blame him but he raised a talker of a son which makes me smile because he is no different.

Just as Papa Tony announces that dinner is served, Jane and Pete finally make it here with a broadly smiling nephew Thomas. Traffic was horrendous because it is the Friday afternoon of a long weekend and probably a lot of people are heading to Brighton for the weekend. It just happens that Papa Tony’s birthday falls on a half school day when everyone decides to go away for the weekend. We eat dinner which is really appropriately called ‘aperitifs dinatoires’ in French as I recently learned from Catherine my adorable French friend. Dinner was a mix of boiled new potatoes and eggs, jarred sausages and olives, some ham, tomatoes, grapes, etc. After that came the birthday cake that Jane and Pete brought. After a quick happy birthday song the cake was cut. Before I had a chance to bring out the spoons, Pete, Thomas and Papa Tony were eating away with their fingers – enough said. Thomas brought Grandpa B his present which he proceeded to unwrap as all 3 year-olds do. John gave Thomas a present from us from Stonehenge a stuffed sheep and the accompanying goodie bag of chocolate sheep droppings. He loved the sheep but he definitely held on to the chocolate. So this is how British men develop their love for chocolate – I have always wondered about that. It is always a wonder to me that I met the one guy who manages to love chocolate much much more than I do and equal to just about any female choc-a-holic that I know. But then I met our friend Gordon’s brother and he eats just as much chocolate as John! If you did not gather by now he is a Brit as well. So I am basing my well-founded conclusions on a statistically valid sample of two.

After dinner, cake, and a shot of whisky from the 12 year Chivas we bought for Tony’s present, Jane and Pete head off to their hotel to get Thomas to bed and we promise to meet them later for a drink at their hotel. I can already see the questioning frowns, no, I did not have a shot of whisky and anyway I would be crazy to start drinking with whisky – it is the quickest way to stop drinking in my opinion. It is right up there with gin in terms of burning a hole in your gut!

We head down to the hotel for the aforementioned drink and we are not 2 minutes walk down the street and it starts to drizzle -- quelle horreur! But this is Brighton. We make a b-line for a cab to take us to Hotel De Vere. It has a beautiful lobby with high ceilings and ornately carved awnings with lots of marble. The bar was great as well and just off the lobby. We called Jane and Pete down and started on the drinks, that is, everyone had a drink and I had what Pete called fruit juice – a virgin Pina Colada. Then we went on to have a debate on whether a pina colada is still a pina colada if it does not have any rum. I said it did not have rum in the name so I had the right to keep the name but we could not come up with what the ‘lada’ meant at the end. It could very well be the rum as such we had no final answer.

We also talked about the pledge of allegiance if Britain should have something similar, shouldn’t there be a rewritten one that does not mention God to accommodate atheists, some guy who shot a burglar in the back after he had left his house doors and window open as a virtual invitation, term limits for the California governor, whether you can run for elected office if you are not a citizen, Tony singing karaoke, Tony planning on playing the piano at one of the local blues bars, Auntie Pauline (Mimm’s sister), going to Ireland to see Auntie Pauline, how Tony felt becoming 70, what his learnings were at 70 and so on. All while keeping an ear out for Thomas on the baby monitor who was half asleep upstairs.

The cutest part of it was Tony wore silver numbers 70 on his shirt pocket so he could flash now and again to unsuspecting on lookers. He said he has learned so far that the older you get the less you know. The promise of one drink turned into three with John and Pete going off in the middle of that to have a smoke. The whole atmosphere was enhanced by intermittent bouts of hard rainfall, a guy outside who was quite drunk being coaxed by his girl friend to have a seat on the steps because he was stumbling around, live testing the baby monitor (Jane went upstairs talk in the monitor because it appeared the one we had was cranky with static), and the ebb and flow of guests or fellow drinkers into the bar area.

At a little after midnight it was time to head back, we are staying with Papa Tony because he so graciously offered and it saves us a mint on hotel rooms. We take a cab back which is the crowning of a perfect evening. Tomorrow is the lunch with everyone and I can’t wait because I get to meet Papa Tony’s brother and half sister Jane. Always interesting to see what other parts of the family are like. For now, it is time for bed everyone is in a dead sleep except for me and I think I would like to join them. Tata, a demain.


Update to Friday’s note: I found out from my friend Yukiko that Pina Colada means “strained pineapple” – so Pete is right that it is a fruit juice but I contend I am just as right that it does not lose its name because there is no rum in it.

Birthday Celebration & Breakfast Buffet

Saturday and Sunday 10/21 – 22

Saturday is the big day! I get to meet all the Briginshaw clan! Lunch is at 1:30pm at Alfresco’s an Italian place on the seaside. Some of the guests are coming to Papa Tony’s house before we head to the restaurant. John goes running and Grandpa B (aka Papa Tony) and I get ready. Just as I finish looking pretty by putting on my version of makeup (lipstick and eyeliner), the first guests arrive. Tony’s brother Rob, wife Jenny and 16 year-old twin sons James and John come in. Rob is still parking the car while the rest of his family are in the apartment. It did not take long for her and I to strike up a conversation with snippets of it being I am a twin as well, my family are spread out over the United States, where is Jeffrey (by the way the Briginshaw clan all call my darling husband Jeffrey or Jaffa), would have liked to attend your wedding but the boys were taking GCSE, where do you live in CA, how do you find it, where did you two meet, etc. As you can see, lots to talk about for girls who just met each other. I thought it was frightfully funny when she said she had brought along a dress and decided against it for the combat gear – which was actually very close to what she was wearing. She has quite a delightful sense of humor.

Next enters Rob the head of household of the family that just came in. It is uncanny how much he and Tony look like each other. They have both grown their hair long which makes them both look like mob bosses from the old country. Tony has his free while Rob has his in a ponytail; both are about the same height and do almost the same things. Jenny and I are still on the sofa talking while Jeffrey walks in (Jeffrey from henceforth in this missive is really John). He is all sweaty and icky from his run and about 15 minutes later than he said he would be. I actually thought he was lost – I was trying very hard not to show my concern to Papa Tony because he was very pre-occupied with guests. Anyway, it was a great sigh of relief for me when he walks in.

Jenny is so happy to see him that she hugs him in his state of dripping perspiration. It is funny when he gets introduced to John Rob’s son because it is a “John Briginshaw meet John Briginshaw’ deal. When he finally cleaned up and came back to the living room for civilized conversation, he looked very much like the next Mafiosi in line because his wet hair was slicked back. I now wish I had taken a picture of the 3 of them together – hopefully someone else did. It was great to see everyone looking at old pictures and asking questions. Papa Tony has a great selection of pictures over the years. However, there isn’t a picture of Rob around which generated a lot of questions on his part. By the way, Rob and his family call Papa Tony “Shoto” which is Japanese for something I was not really able to figure it out except they come up with interesting names to call each other. I was thinking Gai Jin was appropriate but they did not ask my opinion.

Next to come up were Jane, Anthony, Elena, and Alfred. Jane is Papa Tony’s half sister. Elena (3 year old) was quite shy and Alfred, who is 15 months old, was just a delight. He was smiling and seemed totally oblivious to the growing number of people around. Bear in mind that this Jane is not the sister of my Jeffrey (aka John), although her brother is called Jeff and the sister of my Jeffrey is called Jane. Got it?

Following are Jeff, Monica, and Cameron. Jeff is also Tony’s half brother and full brother to Jane. Their son Cameron is 4 and appears to love dusting. Jeffrey and I offer to adopt him. Names start getting confusing here because Jeffrey, my husband, answers to John, Jeffrey-John, Jeff, and Jaffa. Every time some would call on Jeff, Jeffrey would also answer – I was having a great time watching it all.

Since we are meeting Jane, Pete, and Thomas at the restaurant the only person left is Gloria. Gloria comes in last and she is the widow of Papa Tony and Rob’s elder brother Terry. She is delight, I think I am beginning to overuse the word, but she really is. There is a picture of her on the hearth as well which was taken in the 80s, I believe, and she does not look much older than that picture – the only real difference is her hair is grey. (Jane and Jeffrey, my ones, later joke they suspect a Faustian bargain somewhere along the line!). She made it in from London – there was some issue with the train service in the morning so she has to take some bus/taxi/train combination to get here. She is quite a trooper.

Since the gang was all assembled and Jane et al were at the restaurant it was time to head down. John tricked Jane slightly into believing we were going to be there early so she could make it there on time. It was about a 15 to 20 minute walk to the restaurant and I was amazed at how well Elena handled it – she did not cry once to get picked up. After a final count and Jane, Pete, and Thomas got their “I haven’t see you in a long time!” hugs we went inside to settle down at a long set of tables set up for us.

The long and short of lunch was it was delightful with everyone laughing and carrying on and getting reintroduced. Gosh, it was so many people that it was overwhelming. Between the din at the table and that of the other restaurant patrons it was almost hard to hear. I wish I had taken Jeff’s lead and gone outside with the children for a bit of fresh air under the guise of the children wanted to play outside in the playground. Since I get a little shy around too many new people it was all a bit too much in the beginning but once I started participating in conversation snippets it was all good. Lunch ended with speeches from both Papa Tony and Jeffrey thanking everyone for coming. I had another piece of cheesecake for dessert but it did not come close to the one I had in Salisbury.

It was interesting hearing about what everyone did. I talked to Anthony who worked with the railroads and the easiest way to describe what he does is he makes sure the railroads provide the best possible service for their passengers. His wife Jane is an architect who now is working on a big project that is redeveloping and redesigning schools all over the country – how cool!

John, Rob’s son, is an aspiring musician who loves the drums or metals and the trumpet. James on the other hand did not talk much and I forgot to ask what Jenny and Rob do. Anyway, I was too busy answering Jenny’s questions to ask my own. When she called Sunday to talk Mrs. Briginshaw to Mrs. Briginshaw (that is really what she said!), she said the boys were all quite enthralled by the international bent to the Briginshaw family. Which reminds me, towards the end of lunch, Jenny asked me if I like the “Highlander” series - I thought she was talking about the TV series and I said definitely there can be only one and it pays that the hero is cute. I later figured out she was talking about the Sean Connery series of movies. We used the word “series” to mean slightly different things. She also asked me if I like the Warlock movies – I admitted I had only watched the first one which I did like – I think the fact I had not watched all of the dropped me down a notch in her view. On a personal note, it is hard after being considered a Jato for so long to think of myself as a Briginshaw as well. I have to work on that! J

Saturday evening started with a short nap and a jaunt over to the hotel to have an evening drink with Jane and Pete. The baby monitor was put into service one more time. We were all a little pooped but the evening still ended at about 1:15am because we were chatting about everything and nothing. We were watching the well-heeled folks come in and out of a wedding reception next door and continue their festivities at the bar. The waiter this evening was not as good he was late to the table with practically everything. No matter, we were there for the long haul.

It was finally time to head back to Tony’s flat because Pete was falling asleep and I was not sure I was up to walking home. We promised to meet for breakfast the next morning. Since I had not had much to eat (olives and crackers are not dinner) I wanted to get some chips (fries) from one of the shops along the seafront. Jeffrey and I stopped at the one that was open. We waited for a good 10-15 minutes to order but they seemed backlogged and not very efficient. We left because it appeared we would have to wait another 10 minutes. Humph! Anyway, in the time I was there I noticed they were selling fried battered sausage! Screaming arteries! Apart from sausage being a debatable meat product, it was battered and fried. I think some folks are trying to die instantly!!! Total heart attack city and simply nuts!

We finally got here at 2 am where we woke Papa Tony from a half sleep and asked to get let in. He was nice about it and wished he had given us a key. He did call earlier to find out where we were (we were at the fish and chips place waiting in line at the time). It just goes to show you that no matter how old you are you never stop being someone’s kid. We watched new tech TV (about artificial arms) for a little while because I could not get to sleep - and eventually went to bed.


Sunday 10/22

After what turns out to be maybe 4 hours of sleep I get up. This is a rough way to rise in the morning. Not enough sleep with a looming appointment for breakfast! Papa Tony on the other hand was bright eyed and almost literally bushy-tailed for that time of the morning! A quick cleanup and some clean clothes we are off to breakfast at the De Vere Grand Hotel where Jane and Pete are staying. It was very nice to have a leisurely breakfast with the immediate family and not have to really wake up till an hour later. Thomas was driving his Dad Pete crazy which just elicited a bunch of laughs from the rest of us. Papa Tony went up for seconds and thirds grazing through practically every thing as did John (I am back to calling him John because there are no other Johns around – thank God!). Thomas continues to have other-people’s-plate envy. He wants whatever you are eating – too cute.

I must say, the occasion of the buffet breakfast brings out the worst in the British; people were cutting in line, grabbing for the serving utensils, and pushing into you to move you along. What an uncivilized group! I guess since Americans invented the buffet, I have no way of proving if this it true or not, we have some unspoken rules about buffet etiquette. For example:

Rule #1: Don’t start on the buffet 10 minutes before it closes. All the good stuff is gone and the chef on duty is worn out!
Rule #2: Wait your turn! Cutting in line is a definite no-no unless you have a screaming child!
Rule #3: Pushing and shoving to get to a dish is unacceptable, anyway, there is more where that came from and you will get a fresh batch and it is still free!
Rule #5: Don’t have your children push ahead in line. Everyone knows what you are up to and it is just plain rude!
Rule #7: Holding more than two plates in your hands is just plain greedy! You can always come back for more and use a clean plate!
Rule #9: He who has the serving utensils is King for a minute; keep at a respectable distance until they are done. It is very very uncivilized to grab serving utensils out of someone hands unless they are offered to next in line.
Rule #13: Don’t stand with arms outstretched covering 4-5 items. We all know that a number of items are appealing you just don’t have to be so overt with your gluttony.
Rule #16: Don’t shout to your family while hovering over the buffet items. No one needs to consider if you practice appropriate dental hygiene or if the heat lamps will pulverize whatever happens to land on the food.
Rule #18: Please restrain children from touching food with their hands. As adorable as they are, meaning the children, and we fully understand their impulses to gravitate toward brightly colored objects like fruit, we don’t know where their hands have been!

I don’t know how many rules there are but you get the point. There are unwritten rules to the buffet line that every American understands. I guess they need to be spelled out for everyone to benefit.

I gradually woke up during breakfast and it was good no one rushed me and I played with Thomas at table. I was glad that by the time I made it to the buffet I was awake enough to stay away from the black pudding. Interestingly enough, the black pudding was not as gourmet as the one in Salisbury, they looked like little cocktail sausages. Before I left to graze the buffet John told me they were there - I recognized them immediately and stayed away.

After a long and leisurely breakfast, we went up to see Jane and Pete’s room and said our good byes. We had an inkling they may not want to stop by the flat if the weather continued to be bad. They had a long trip ahead of them.

We headed on home to Papa Tony’s flat with the London Times newspaper in tow and retreated to various corners of the house to enjoy the rest of the day. I again took a short nap while John entertained his dad. I woke up and we had Starbucks coffee (Starbucks has invaded the UK as well) and chocolate – a tradition we have adopted in the Briginshaw-Jato household (our version of afternoon tea). Tony decided to go out and get Fish and Chips when the weather let up because he did not like what we had eaten at the pub in Rottingdean. He endeavored to get us a better experience.

Sometime later he was back with Fish and Chips and we sat down to a filling dinner. We had the traditional cod and we tried the haddock. All very nice. After dinner John fell asleep and I got to typing while waiting for the season premier of the TV show “Torchwood” to come on BBC. Jane and Pete called to say they arrived safely. The almost 2 hour season premier of Torchwood came on at 9pm which is a sci-fi show by the same guy who gave us “Dr. Who”. I say “almost 2 hour” because it was BBC and there are no commercials. I am beginning to understand the need for the commercial break – breaks mean bathroom time, get coffee/tea time, stretch your legs time, be social with your fellow watchers time. It is hard hard hard to sit still for 2 hours with all the visual stimulation so yes we all got up at some point for some reason or other and missed part of the show. For now, I still like Dr. Who better even though I agree with Papa Tony that Torchwood is closer to real life.

Anyway time for bed because tomorrow is an early start (6am!) because we leave from Brighton to Heathrow and need to return the car and make a 10:35am flight. Wish us luck! Bonne nuit!