Author: leanagallagher

We had no morning agenda, we put in a full day yesterday, and we slept a bit later knowing that we could. We all had breakfast in our flats, and took our time heading out.

Paul spent the morning with us as we did the circuit of London Emporiums- Liberty, Harvey Nichols and Harrods. Lots of walking through Mayfair and Knightsbridge and the beauty that is English architecture was on view.

The Liberty store was built in 1924 out of Timbers from ancient British battleships. It’s as beautiful a building as the speciality of its fabric designs (45,000 of them created to date). It is a marvelous place to shop.

Harvey Nic’s is Harvey Nic’s, you just feel special and never quite as turned out as you should be when inside.

Harrods, that monster of a tourist trap with all the things that make it such a special place on earth. That it remains still so very special is a miracle in our point and click culture. Yes, it was a madhouse, yes it was splendidly surreal, and yes, we took a photo in the elevator because it was so beautiful.

And then there is walking through Mayfair and Knightsbridge. The side streets, the luxury homes, the flowers everywhere, Walton Street, the poshness of it all.

The V’s were busy with pancakes and Selfridges. They shopped and ogled and loved every minute of that fabulous store (if you haven’t seen the Masterpiece Theatre, Mr. Selfridge with Jeremy Piven, you need to). Then they ambled over to Harrods and discovered even more treasures!

We all caught up for high tea with a Scientific flair at the Ampersand Hotel. The girls concocted drinks and made cocoa and we all had a proper afternoon respite.

The V’s headed out for more sightseeing and we decided to cab it back home. Stuck in interminable traffic near Hyde Park, we started bantering with our cabbie who was a very frustrated young man – he argued with other drivers, expressed his displeasure with his occupation, thought the city mayor was an idiot, couldn’t imagine why so many people were driving mid day, and on and on. I tell you this because he was frustrated with his lot — he felt too many immigrants were taking his jobs, that the government was caring for foreigners and not veterans, that there was a sinister plot afoot to oust his British Anglo Saxon male status to that of a beggar. It’s not just in our country that nationalists are angry. He finally admitted that his mother was an immigrant too, but he held fast for “Britain for the British!” I guess every immigrant group has been and will be hated universally. (long sigh).

We popped out of the cab and picked up our morning purchases at Liberty and decided a bit of air was needed, and walked back to the flat. With clear heads, we dressed for dinner and met the V’s at a hip little Italian joint called Circolo Popolare.

The decor is really beautiful, the vibe is very Instagram, and food was good. Not gonna win an award, but an entertaining experience. As Kayla said “the best part is spending time with you”. We always have such a good time when we’re together – it makes such wonderful memories.

We split back up to head home and got a few more snaps on the way.

Another day, another 18,000 steps.

Our first order of business was to meet King Charles, so we headed to Windsor Castle, where he was in residence today.

We met over coffee at a great neighborhood cafe and our concierge, Paul, organized the transportation via the Elizabeth Line and a bus to Windsor. We ran into a lovely couple,who serve as guides at Windsor, who showed us the Council Hall where King Charles and Camilla got married, and discussed the building as rather new – 1685, “paint still wet”.

King Charles really was in residence today, but we didn’t get to see him. We did get to see about 30 of the 900 rooms of Windsor Castle. We weren’t allowed to take photographs, so you’ll just have to image the total splendor of the place. Priceless works of art, thousands of pieces of armory displayed in the most amazing ways, porcelain, furnishings and just the most elaborate decorative architecture you can imagine. And then there was one room with a large picture window that looked over the grounds, the private golf course and the Thames. The sky was a miraculous blue, there was mist in the distance, and the rolling green fields with mature trees and gardens and fountains as far as the eye could see. It was otherworldly.

The best part about it was that we had been taking in an hour of the most beautiful works of art from every part of the world, in the most opulent setting, and we were all riveted by the sun, the garden and water. It’s amazing how powerful nature is.

We strolled around the town, had lunch at The Prince Harry Pub and took a real train back to London where the girls got to visit Paddington Station.

We all took a break and made a cup of tea and rested a bit before we all went our separate ways for the evening. The V’s did fun food and ice skating at Somerset House, Kirsten Paul and I had a pre theatre posh dinner at Bentleys followed by Jersey Boys and King Lear. It was an eclectic night, but we each got to do our thing – best part about traveling with these guys, we have fun together and apart.

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Brad and I were so energized by Kenneth Branaugh’s Lear that we decided to walk home. Kirsten and Paul took the Tube. We both came in the entrance to the building at exactly the same time from opposite directions. We couldn’t have timed it better.

A long, fun-filled day. Step count was 18,000. Tomorrow morning should be interesting.

I was up early today because my sleep is still off – I’m sure I did sleep, but it felt very superficial. Kirsten got up with us and we decided to go for breakfast at Ottolenghi. I promise you that I will never tire of the place.

Brad and I headed out to Hampstead for a walking tour and Kirsten and Paul went up to Primrose Hill and over to Buckingham Palace. We all got lots of fresh air.

I think Paul walked Kirsten about 9 miles around London. No problem eating these.

Brad and I learned about a gorgeous, pastoral area of London called Hampstead, home to many artists from the past and present – so many artists, writers and poets have lived here because of the views and landscape. The real draw is the Heath, an enormous woodland area that makes you feel as though you’re in the Cotswolds.

After the walk, we went over to Kenwood, a beautiful English estate given to the country by the Guinness family and chock full of exquisite art work. The home, grounds, furniture and art are just so uplifting they are almost spiritual.

Unlike Sir Richard of the Wallace Collection, there doesn’t seem to be any seedy story behind it, and you can almost feel that within the place.

We got the call that Jeff and the girls landed (after 10 hours in the air), and we headed over to their flat to get them checked in.

It was a joyous reunion and everyone is so excited to be in London together!

They did a quick change and met us for a proper Sunday Roast at The George, with special guests, Kim and Nicholas Furnald, who were also in London.

We talked and laughed and traded seats and drank and ate and even had sticky toffee pudding. A lovely end to a beautiful English Sunday – a walk in the woods followed by a sumptuous dinner with family and friends around the table. Such happiness.

The V’s trotted home to get some much needed rest, and a proper English taxi miraculously appeared to whisk us home and keep us under 6 miles today. A good time had by all.

Kirsten arrived at 8:00 AM and we woke up with a start barely 10 minutes before and quite stiff from all the walking yesterday. It was a comedic greeting as we struggled into clothes so we could greet her in the lobby.

Paul trotted over shortly after. Sadly, Michael had exams he couldn’t wriggle out of and a class that he needed to be at on Monday, and Missy needed to be at home, so we carried on without them.

We fortified ourselves at Ottolenghi and then poked into food shops on the Marleybone High Road. So much gorgeousness.

With Paul as our guide we headed over to the House of Parliment for a tour. Wow!

Almost no photography allow in Parliment, but we did find a statue of Lord Chatham, who was Prime Minister at the turn of the19th Century.

Very interesting tour in such a magnificent building.

A good long walk along the South Bank, over the bridge and back to Somerset House and a tour through The Savoy Hotel.

Enough walking, so back to the flat via The Tube. Ampy hasn’t taken a subway in over 50 years, but he did for Paul.

A bit of a rest, a cup of tea, then we went to one of Paul’s haunts and ate so quickly we had no time for pictures.

Almost 17,000 steps and full bellies. We’ll sleep tonight and welcome the V’s tomorrow!

The travel has been great. Logan was empty, JetBlue Mint was worth it, and there was not a single person ahead of me in customs at Gatwick! Landed at 7:15, through customs, bags collected and on the train at 8:02.

We both got enough sleep to function. The flat is beautiful, our host is accommodating, and Marleybone is the Beacon Hill of London. The flat is as described: Luxurious, spacious and modern, in a quaint old part of London with a park across the street.

The day was crisp and sunny so we decided to get out into Regent’s Park, which might be the largest park in London proper – formal gardens, tropical gardens (yes, palm trees and agave in London) gilded gates, ponds, lakes, tennis, playgrounds and gorgeous trees.

So much to explore just right nearby – museums, shops, restaurants, and pubs, not to mention the architecture. First stop….

I took such good notes on every dish on the menu, peppered the staff with questions and vowed to bring the group to try EVERYTHING! We poked through the famous Daunt Bookstore, went in and out of many pubs and have all their histories, and made an appointment to spend an hour with 16 cats at Java Whiskers Cafe.

We came back home, soaked and showered and relaxed a bit before heading out to see the Wallace Collection. The Wallace Collection is an amazing art collection of some of the finest paintings and furniture in England housed in it’s original mansion, Hertford House. You don’t know which is more dazzling, the Rembrandts and Van Dycks or the elaborate porcelain and French furniture. It’s exhaustingly beautiful and over the top.

The best part about the Wallace Collection is the Wallaces! I started to research them, and generation after generation of mistresses and illegitimate children, and affairs with royalty, and you name it. They must have been part Kardashian. Fabulous to Google over dinner.

Speaking of dinner, what did we eat today?? Not much to report – a sticky bun at brunch and a modest early dinner – vegan kale salad for me, fish and chips for Brad at a good average restaurant that would have us on a Friday night. Tomorrow is another day.

I am now officially bleary eyed after just three hours of sleep on the way over and 11 miles of walking in crisp cool air. Nighty night, my people. Talk with you tomorrow.

The Standell’s singing Dirty Water is my Boston theme song.

You can fly to London all kinds of ways, and we debated many. With air travel so unpredictable, the chance of missing our overseas flight loomed large. We decided on a morning flight to Boston with a 6-hour layover before departing in the evening.

Lunch with my sister and her husband, a trip to the MFA, and a leisurely wait at the new JetBlue terminal seemed sane.

Lovely exhibit of John Singer Sargent’s portraits – two of which were Sassoon ladies from that lovely book, The Last Kings of Shanghai. You forget the treasures in your own back yard.

So far I seem like a rock star travel agent. Saw this New Yorker cartoon and thought it perfectly described how I’d like the trip to go.

Now I just hope we can get a bit of sleep on the plane after all our traipsing around. These two are what we aspire to.

Talk to you from London.

Leaving for London in the morning via a long layover in Boston. Weather will be cold and wet, but we’re prepared. Three pairs of pants, three sweaters, three undershirts, three pairs of shoes, a coat and an umbrella.

A week with the kids and 4 days in Scotland. Can’t wait to see London through the eyes of the grand children.

Talk to you from across the pond.

Plane delayed two hours, but we are still at the spa hotel and now get to enjoy another world class Italian breakfast in a bucolic setting.

That we are 7 minutes from the airport, and are in this most enchanting spot is amazing. The hotel is located within a nature park which was a former Ancient Roman port. The buildings were were part of a Tenuta (farm) established in the 1850’s. The photos of before and after are amazing. Four broken down farm buildings were totally reimagined into this indoor outdoor spa with 75 gorgeous rooms.

The Italians have a style and culture of beauty that is unparalleled. When they do things well, there is nothing better. It is not all like this, though. Normal day to day living for most people is sub par by American standards. There is a quiet acceptance of things, a rhythm to their days, a joy of small things, the knowledge that things don’t change much. It’s good and bad. Americans are a culture of improvement. Italians revere the past. When Italians improve the past, you get this place.

I love it here — in the improved past of Italy — but I’m not sure I could live here, unless it was in this fairy tale part. The day to day frustrations would break me. I don’t shrug well. And for all the socialist tendencies of the Italian populace to make things right for everyone, there is a lot of prejudice. There is still an unspoken class system that is almost impossible to break. The migrant farm workers are treated like slaves, and there are almost 350,000 of them that come in for harvest. The poor people have almost no hope of ever being rich people, it is not like America where that is possible.

Yet, I am drawn here. The physical beauty, the grace, the culture, the food! My God, the reverence for food. Every piece of fruit, every cheese, the way it is served — all of it. An interesting note, Italians do not drink half of what Americans drink. They savor 5 ounces of good wine. We drink 2 8-ounce glasses to get drunk. Big difference. A small cocktail, not 3 large. Things are done with the pace of slow enjoyment here. They are not in a hurry to get to the end.

Could I spend a month, maybe two? Yes, for sure. Could I live here? Absolutely not. I am an American through and through. I love the ability to chose my destiny and work as hard or as little to become what I want. I can emulate the lifestyle of Italy in America, but I’m not sure I could emulate American lifestyle here. But boy, do I love it here.

As we waited in the airport I noticed that there were many black Americans traveling. By virtue of traveling to Europe, they were clearly middle class or better. The only black people we saw in Italy (if we saw any) were dirt poor. As much as we need to continue to fight for equal rights, it is clearly better in America. We tend to romanticize Europe, but truth is truth. Italy tries to take care of their citizens, but so much so that the drive to work is stunted. There is a balance, and I think Massachusetts has it – thriving economy, great public schools, universal healthcare, and by and large a just police force. We are lucky to live there.

I will begin dreaming of and romanticizing Italy again tomorrow morning when I wake up in my own house on the 4th of July. I will also be grateful that I live in the best country in the world. As sad as I am about current events, I do know that our activists and journalists and citizens can change things. That is what makes us great. We take the best of everything and eventually make it our own.

Another trip, another broader perspective. It’s good to get outside your bubble and see the world. Hope you all get to try it soon.

Jeff and Cath and I woke up at 5:30 to go walking one last time in the countryside. We ran into 3 different dogs that chased us off the properties. July 1, the natives and their pets have arrived. It was a nice way to end the stay. Cool and colorful and such a magnificent place to explore. All these ancient buildings hidden in little places — who lived there? The smell of fig trees was everywhere. I savored every second.

We decided to drive to Rome rather than taking the chance that our flight would be cancelled at the last minute. It was a lovely drive and we got to see the countryside of Campagna province into Lazio. So much agriculture, so many hilltop towns, so many gas stations with amazing food!

Brad chose a roast beef dinner (think he’s missing home?) and I got a plate of broccoli rabe and artichokes (think I’d like to stay?).

We checked into the world’s best airport hotel, QC Terme Roma. It’s a health spa on an old estate 10 minutes from FCO. We got our robes and jacuzzied and lounged until dinner under the lime trees. It is a gorgeous little gem, and you should always stay here for a day if you land in Rome.

Tomorrow we head home on Delta. And if we don’t, I’ll let you know how the spa was on day 2.

I haven’t written much about the cats. I’ve kept them to myself. It has been a delicious affair. Grouper will have to understand that it was just a fling.

Lots of cats in Monopoli, but there are two who live here. This one greeted us upon arrival and made herself available for three square meals a day. She is ridiculously tiny, yet eats copious amounts of food ravenously. Then we found her husband and babies.

The black cat lets me touch her now. We started feeding them prosciutto scraps, then good Italian tuna, then cat food pouches, then fresh fish. They are adorable and part of our daily routine. I hate to leave them, but we’ll always have Puglia.