Economy Delight is not Upper Class. We flew back Coach – takes the blush off the rose. The Centurion Club had a waiting list, the plane was full, Heathrow was heaving and there were children behind us kicking our seats. Vera (Virgin’s Entertainment Center) is wonderful and kept me entertained, but it is NOT Upper Class.
We came home at rush hour on Friday. Hard landing.
London was wonderful. We didn’t tour as much this time, but Buckingham Palace and Hampton Court were not as interesting as Windsor. It’s still a terrific city. The flat is comfortable and perfectly located. There are so many lovely areas in London, but Marleybone is our favorite.
Regent’s Park in the summer is outrageous. Central Park in NYC is amazing, but Regent’s is other worldly. I did some research – The Crown owns all the big deal parks and pays for their upkeep through a charitable trust. Makes the Monarchy worthwhile in my estimation.
12,000 roses, 76,000 spring plants, 72,000 bulbs, 63,000 summer plants. The scale is ridiculous and amazing. Next trip needs to be in Spring and a picnic is in order.
London was a different place in summer than winter. Winter brings hoards of US tourists. Summer sends all the English on holiday elsewhere and fills up with Middle Easterners escaping the dessert heat. It had a very different feel. Also, I noticed many more homeless people and I’ve heard crime is up. It still felt very very safe, but statistics are statistics.
Paris was wonderful. It’s such a beautiful city and has so much to explore. I’d like to spend more time in Montemarte and Le Marais. Maybe a Spring trip along with London.
Next trip, I want no itinerary and I just want to wander. I want to eat in interesting little places and just visit neighborhoods and go in and out of shops. I want to read a book in the park, I want to shop and cook a meal. I guess I’m comfortable enough now that I just want to live like a Londoner.
Fly first class and live like a Londoner. That’s my mantra for the next trip.
I came home to this, so the landing was softened as I pulled up the driveway.
Yellow warning for downpours today. We made a plan to spend the day shopping. We have come to the conclusion that the British weather forecasters are not trained meteorologists. They are never right. Your look out the window is far more accurate.
We had our last Ottolenghi breakfast and I tried the hot chocolate. Excellent. We chatted with an American ex patriot who has been here for 40 years. It was an interesting conversation about here and there. One thing that’s clear, immigration is an issue. Almost 100% of the service people we’ve run into are not British. A very large number of construction workers are not British. Yet the British are upset that there are too many immigrants. It’s a conundrum.
The view from our favorite breakfast spot.
We trotted around Bond Street for a bit, visited Selfridges, checked out some other stores and the got on the Tube to Battersea.
Battersea is such a great complex, but we had lost our Mojo. We wanted everything yesterday, and struggled to make a purchase today. I swear all of the merchandise in Zara had been rearranged or sold. Anyway, the day turned bright, we got some lunch and headed home.
Packing ensued and then a walk in the park. The pictures cannot do justice to the hundreds of thousands of plants in Regent’s Park. It is huge and perfectly maintained. A veritable botanical garden.
It doesn’t come close to how beautiful it is and how large it is. I need to do some Googling on how many people it takes to maintain the Park system here. Wonder how many are immigrants?
Anyway, we met the kids and Lisa and John for dinner at Carlotta. It’s part of a chain of restaurants that are more theatre than food, but the food is good. Think highly decorated red sauce place with hip drinks.
Best unisex bathroom ever (in red).
We’ve had a lovely stay, fine weather, good family time and a lot of fun. London is an easy city to enjoy. It’s a change of pace and a comfortable get away.
I am packed and ready for Heathrow. Can’t wait to snuggle Miss Lillian and visit my garden. More later.
We all slept well, Abi and Paul went off to work and we took ourselves to Kit Kemp’s Dorset Square Hotel for breakfast. Refined elegance and a soothing way to start the day.
They know how to do hotels and restaurants and no detail is overlooked.
We had nothing scheduled and Kirsten wanted to see Battersea Power Station and Brad wanted to ride on the Thames, so we made a day of it. We started at the Battersea development and explored the neighborhood and mall. It’s a world class redevelopment, with a cool vibe and lots to explore.
It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, so we may be back here for a good part of the day.
Of course Brad found out who developed and financed the project (a Malaysian public company) and looked at real estate. We picked up the Uber Boat and headed East on the Thames all the way to Greenwich.
Greenwich was a breath of fresh air. The home of the British Navy and the Observatory with the Prime Meridian of Greenwich Mean Time fame, it is a gorgeous complex where Henry the VIII was born. Great buildings, green space, a sweet town, museums and art work.
We wanted to see the Painted Hall and got there in time for an a docent led tour. It was a little too much information for us, so we skipped out early, but not before getting a bit more information on William and Mary, who commissioned the Painted Hall. We are expanding our knowledge of British Kings.
We hit the Greenwich market for lunch and then decided to head home. We took the bus to the subway and crossed the Thames underground and arrived back to Baker Street.
Kirsten went out for a walk in Regent’s Park and brought back these pictures.
Have I mentioned how stellar the weather is? It’s been a dream.
We dressed and trotted off to the Savoy for a drink before dinner at Toklas.
A proper martini from our lovely bar tender.
Off to Toklas to meet Abi and have what we hoped was a fine dinner. The reviews had been great, the food was fantastic. Every dish encompassed the finest ingredients and was artfully prepared. Roasted tomato risotto with mint, tagliatelle with chanterelles, pork tonnato, hake with courgettes, and great chips and sourdough bread. The best dish was green beans with peaches and onions in an almond sauce.
Lovely.
We walked back on the Strand admiring the architecture.
It was a perfect night for a walk.
We headed home happily and sated. Another lovely day in London.
We started the day at Basilique Sacre Coeur in Montmarte. The highest point in the city, and a lovely chapel. Montmarte is old Paris. Cobbled streets, shops selling fabrics and feathers, trees, artists, cafes and a soft vibe.
First order of business was croissants. We stopped at the first little cafe we saw and boy did we get lucky. Cafe Carla was clearly a locals place with a group of older men taking up a large table and the staff serving up the regular customers their usual orders. Paul had a plain croissant and a saucisson sandwich which he raved about. Brad had his usual canelle roulade and Kirsten had the absolute best ham and cheese croissant in the world (we all tried it). I’m not a morning eater, so I just ordered a small tomato and courgette tart — honestly, never had anything that tasted this good. Ominous start to the day.
Next order of business was the Eiffel Tower, which is brown, not gray, and huge! We took a taxi from Montmarte to the Eiffel Tower – our two furthest points today – and we struck gold in a taxi with a Syrian race car driver. It was like being in a Tom Hardy movie. He zoomed through intersection, barely missed cyclists, and careened through boulevards – skillful and competent and never broke a sweat.
We walked through the park, over the Seine into the 8th Arrondissement and all needed a restroom and a proper lunch. We picked the first sidewalk cafe we saw and were treated to a floor show of bustling waiters with a sense of humor. Food was good, not great (a Niçoise salad with ripe olives?!), but Paul got great French Fries and Kirsten had her first French Diet Coke. All was well with the world.
Sightseeing commenced in earnest. Grand Palais, Petite Palais, Les Invalides, Arc de Tromphe (huge), Champ Elysee, Jardin Tuileries, Parc Monceau, The Louvre and finally St. Germaine du Pres. We covered a lot of ground.
We even stopped to see where a bit of Chazy resides under the Goddess Diana in front of the Louvre.
After all that walking we made it to Notre Dame and sat and had crepes and ice cream and wine (how French).
Notre Dame is an incredible structure has a fascinating history and is a wonder of recent accomplishments. It was magnificent.
Sated and fulfilled emotionally, we took a walk into the neighborhood we usually stay in and showed the kids Relais Christine, a favorite hotel. No one was in the lobby, so we settled into the library and had a glass of champagne and discussed the days events.
The only thing we hadn’t done was take the Metro. Brad is not big on public transportation, but he capitulated.
He was not happy, but he made the 9 stops to the Gare du Nord. We had our final Parisienne meal at a restaurant across from the train station. Dover sole, steak frites, pate and of course the last French Diet Coke.
We entered the train station full and happy with no battery life in our phones (except for Brad, who never turned his on), 20,000 steps under our belt and another family memory to cherish.
Palace to Palace, that’s how we roll. I dutifully watched all of Wolf Hall before coming over so I’d be ready for King Henry VIII.
We had a quick breakfast and made the pilgrimage by Tube to Waterloo then by National Rail to Hampton Court. You can get anywhere by public transportation in London.
The Palace and grounds were amazing, but the interpretation was not. We should have hired a great guide.
Three distinct eras are interpreted in this palace and none of them are done well. There were a couple of talks that were interesting, but nothing flowed and very few docents. It was still a good visit and nice to be in the country for the day.
The arms displays always fascinate me. And they did a display of Georgian table settings with napkin folds that were so artistic.
The Kings ate in front of large groups of people to show they were healthy (the Queens also gave birth in front of an audience), and the left over food was then distributed to the townspeople (after the servants had their fill). At least no food waste.
We took a draft horse ride, which gave us a feel for travel in the 1500’s. There was no way to capture the expanse of the grounds in photos, but it was magical out there. How they keep it up, I do not know.
Rose gardens, espailiered pear and apple trees, just acres and acres of it.
We got home a little sleepy (Kirsten did a beautiful Regent Park walk while we rested), but we all ralleyed for dinner.
Halibut, salmon and Dover sole. Lovely and fresh from a local place around the corner.
Paul and Abi came over after work and we chatted and got ready for Paris tomorrow. Talk to you from the Eurostar.
I didn’t sleep well – coffee late in the day is my theory. However, we got up to a glorious day and decided to start it right by heading to Ottolenghi.
We had our favorites, reveled in the fact that we are lucky enough to have favorites here, and hoofed it to the Marleybone Farmers Market.
It was torture to only buy strawberries. A feast for the senses. Maybe sometime I will want to cook when I’m here. It’s always so compelling to eat out at some of the finest restaurants anywhere that I have never used the stove here.
We took a nice walk down to Oxford Street and passed some of our favorite pubs.
We took the Tube to Belgravia to meet Paul and Abi at Peggy Porchen’s for tea.
An Instagramsble kind of place serving a traditional High Tea.
We headed back to the flat with a bag of leftovers and relaxed for a bit before heading to Buckingham Palace.
We toured (no pictures allowed) and then walked to dinner by way of circling the Palace. It has huge grounds. We ended at a traditional locals pub on Petty France Lane (I just like saying it) called the Buckingham Arms. We had traditional food on a table that has been there for a hundred years for sure, drinking bitters in front of a photo of Price Charles pulling a pint. The women’s football championship was on TV and the rowdy crowd was into it. It all felt very real and not at all touristy. We loved it.
We decided to walk off the meal and took a route that led us back by Buckingham Palace again. It felt like the whole day was spent in and around the Palace grounds. We did find some cool things on our walk.
Another McLaren, wash buckets of gorgeous flowers, and a giant picnic basket – what more could we ask for?
21,000 steps (mostly around and inside Buckingham Palace), three great meals and time spent with the family. a great Sunday under our belt.
A proper flight. We actually slept and had a fine breakfast. Heathrow Express and a short cab ride and Richard’s lovely flat in Marleybone. It all feels so normal and familiar. We know where to shop, what we need and how to get around.
Marleybone is pure London. Few tourists, interesting shops, and Regent Park. We daudled around, picked up supplies, napped and met Paul and Abi for dinner at a sweet French place after cocktails at an old British place. The best of everything.
We met a lady walking her bearded dragons in the park (zoom in), Brad checked out 4 MacLarens on the street (that kinda neighborhood). We ate charcuterie and duck confit and quiche and crepes with good wine and then went for a walk in the park.
My garden is my haven, but London gardens are heaven.
I’m snuggled in bed, Lisa and John are at Wembley rockin’ out to Oasis and the first day is a success. 3000 mikes by air and 15,000 steps. We will sleep tonight.
Off to London once again to see the grandson and his girlfriend and to rendezvous with my sister and husband who are there to see Oasis.
I’ll miss my garden, but have left it in good hands.
Lillian has freshly pressed sheets and a clean litter box and a hand maiden checking in on her.
The Delta Lounge didn’t disappoint. A full meal, drinks and the Boston skyline. Flight leaves late, so hopefully we’ll be able to sleep. Let you know how we fare tomorrow.
As we got into the shuttle van to take us to our car, we chatted with a couple that just got back from Paris and were comparing notes.
Copenhagen is not Paris. Paris is beauty at every turn and a refined sense of style and taste and artwork beyond your imagination. Paris is vast and has rules about where to eat and what to eat and when.
Copenhagen is not London. It has royalty, but on a minuscule scale next to London. London has theatre and culture and a long detailed history. London has so many different areas and they all feel different. London has David Bowie and the Beatles.
Copenhagen is not Italy. It is not passionate and effervescent. It doesn’t have astonishing natural beauty. Italy has a reverence for food and a zest for life found no where else. Italy has antiquities and vibrant history. Italy has Bella Figura.
Copenhagen is bite size. Copenhagen embraces the old and actively chases the future. Copenhagen is stable and sane. It is European, a bit Anglo and also Nordic. It’s a mix of the best of all of them. I think I’ve fallen so hard because it’s not just a good place to visit, it’s a good place to live. It has an enough crumbling grand buildings to sweep my heart, yet mixes them with clean, modern, efficient buildings so that you can live comfortably.
Education and children are valued, and not with lip service. Childcare is provided, kids are fed at school, healthcare is universal. People are not stressed nor are they lazy. It is a wonderful mix. The food is great, the coffee exemplary. The only hitch is the language. I have never heard an uglier language. It all sounds like gibberish that a comedian made up. It would be a bitch to learn.
However, at this phase of my life, to go to a happy, safe, clean, healthy place that is a little European, and little hip, and very relaxed seems like a good fit.
In Italy and France (and a bit in London), you always feel a little frumpy. You really need to put some effort into every outfit. You feel like you have to do things correctly, there are standards and rules. In Copenhagen it’s come as you are. It’s freeing. It’s not that they don’t care, they are just not judging the book by the cover. No one is posturing.
And they are intelligent, and well educated, and industrious and know how to have a good time. They are my people.
I’m sold and we’re going back. I want to see the countryside and the beaches. I’d like to get out on the water (with a captain) and see the rest of the islands. Who’s with me?
The Copenhagen Airport is our final Copenhagen destination. We’ve had quite a trip. The last day of any trip we’re usually pacing around, waiting for a cab, eager to leave. Not this trip.
We went out to our favorite coffee shop, sat in the sun and chatted with the locals.
We did our last walk around the harbor, noticing the new boats, commenting on the restaurants and clearly not wanting to leave. We met Laura, the music teacher from TaiPei who was on her way to Amsterdam and we had a chat. We saw Lena, the hotel manager, on her bike as we were walking to the Metro and she stopped to say goodbye. We got on the train and headed to the airport begrudgingly.
As we leisurely walked past all of our little shops and storefronts, we commented on how nervous we were when we landed. We weren’t sure about how to take the Metro. It seemed like a far walk to the hotel early last week and the neighborhood was very still that morning and felt a bit sketchy. Now it seemed comfortable and easy.
The Metro cost $6 for two of us to the airport and took 15 minutes at most. We squeezed all of my new clothes into our carry on suitcases, but SAS had other plans for us. A beautiful but grim gate agent said that she suspected that our suitcases were heavier than the 8 kilos allowed (17 lbs) and that we needed to check them. We said we brought them on board getting here and her response was that no one in the US checks!
Okay, we were un encumbered.
Fast pass TSA and into the lounge for a quick bite. Lots of shops and a very friendly airport awaits the last of our Kroner.
A couple of things about Denmark.
The bicycles- 600,000 of them in the city. More than the number of inhabitants. The most cycle friendly city in the world – other city planners come to see how it’s done. 50% of all employees bike to work every day. I did a deep dive into how this happened, and though Denmark had a big bike culture in the 1940’s, it petered out and began a small resurgence in the 1970’s, but slowly grew through city planning efforts at designated bike lanes and bike parking to what it is today – a culture! There are 40 bike shops in Copenhagen and 700 bicycle shop/repair employees. It is religion.
Bike lock
Fed ex is delivered on bikes, the locks are the coolest, and bike wear is office wear. People transport their shopping, animals and children on their bikes.
It’s very cool.
Smoking and vaping – we saw very little of it. As compared with most European cities, it’s almost non existent.
Drinking is ubiquitous. Everyone drinks all the time. On the street, in cafes, at lunch, on boats, probably at breakfast. Beer, wine, Snapps, cocktails, you name it. Aside from the guy tumbling out of the Eiffel bar, we saw no public drunkenness.
Sexuality is comfortable. No one blinks an eye. Many girl couples, many boys with pearls and nail polish, and they mingle with everyone else. It’s like brown eyes and blue eyes – no big deal. Lots of bathrooms are gender neutral because they are closed stalls. Pornography is not illegal, but we saw no displays of lurid anything anywhere.
They are not an overly demonstrative bunch, but they are friendly. They tend to grow up, go to school and work within a 20 mile radius. They teased that in Denmark a long distance relationship is an hour away. Because of this, they tend to have a close circle of friends and are a bit insular. However, we found everyone charming and warm.
Crime. No one worries overtly about it. We saw some graffiti in the outer boroughs and some bars on windows, but not a lot. Walking at 11:00 PM was comfortable.
Work life balance. They seem to be very good at this. Many scientists, designers and craftsmen that take their jobs seriously, but also make time for their family. There are duals income couples as a norm, but roles within the household seem to be shared. No one is racing – the pace is calmer, but they seem to get a lot done. They trust their government and Covid was miserable, but there were no protests or anti vax, anti mask crazies. They all did their part to protect the country as a whole.
Children are not protected the way we Americans protect our kids. They are left outside in their strollers while parents go pick something up. Things aren’t as “babyproofed”. They fall down and learn not to do it again. Parents aren’t worried all the time.
School is free and seemingly pretty encompassing. From trades to graduate level learning, everything is available.
Taxes are high, but services are all encompassing. You get what you pay for, and everyone is good with it.
The water is so clean in the canals that you understand why people swim all the time. Crystal clear, see the bottom clear. They say it was a real project, but they did it. The water from the tap is excellent. I drank from the tap every day. That’s saying a lot.
Civilized Cross Many Countries 