Over the late May bank holiday we travelled down to Exmouth for my mum’s birthday, and although we didn’t quite make it onto the beach itself, we were all very much in the market for some sunny, seaside vibes. It also turns out that my mum has been quietly hoarding many of my childhood toys, and so in true Toy Story-style, this was a great opportunity for “aeroplane” and “walker” to find another playmate in the next generation.
For the adults, we kept busy with a Sherlock Holmes themed jigsaw (admittedly only managing to finish the edges) and my mum’s nostalgic recreation of a classic “nana and grandad” Suffolk teatime. There were a few necessary anachronisms – I definitely don’t recall any red wine back in the day! – but the combination of ham, potatoes, Marmite and Rich Tea biscuits was very exciting.
Back in London, I had an excellent evening at a Leytonstone pub with Clark, including a brief guest appearance from Matt Hull. A week or so later, Randi and I were back in Leyton for a proper catch-up with Matt, Rachael and their little one, before heading over for Tash’s barbecue birthday party in their gorgeous garden. As ever, it was great to catch-up with a lot of familiar faces (hello Grace, Charlotte, Sarah, Katty, Beth, Moya and others!) but the highlight was probably the impromptu dramatic performance from the kids who live next door. There’s genuine top-notch acting talent there.
In the last few weeks we’ve also had an evening with Esther – together with the thrilling season premiere of “being able to sit out in the garden even after the sun has gone down” – and I went out with a mixture of current and former eviivo-ites including Jo, who left a few years back to retrain with the ambulance service. Having grown up on a diet of Casualty, it was interesting to hear that trauma cases are actually a relatively small proportion of callouts, although I see why “people who have been funelled to 999 by a risk-averse flow chart” would have made a less exciting show.
Talking of eviivo: it was also very lovely to see my former colleague Annie again on a visit from the States, while yesterday Randi and I made it into central London for the 2026 “beach vibes” Summer Party. We’re still at the age where our child can be passed around and held without squirming to run around independently, but clearly it’s only a matter of time! With my team having cruised to a resounding victory in the eviivo-themed quiz (excellent job, Lee), Randi and I said our goodbyes and induced some much-needed napping time by walking across London for a bit to Whitechapel. Since we don’t get much of a chance for impromptu after-work walks these days, this was genuinely wonderful, and a good reminder of what we both love most about this city.
Finally, I’ll leave you with last weekend’s surprise weekend trip to the Isle of Wight. This was a belated birthday present for Randi, but it had to fit into a reasonable radius from London, and in the end I gambled on the idea that Randi would be unusually excited by the novelty of a short ferry ride thrown into the journey. (I wasn’t wrong. In fact, we were both shocked at how seamless and well-integrated the train and ferry are together, both in terms of the physical terminals and the ability to buy a magical through ticket with a Railcard discount. It all made much more sense after reading about how it all used to be one consolidated British Rail operation in the first place.)
After reaching Ryde we journeyed down the island to our Airbnb in Bonchurch, near Ventnor, with commanding views of the sea from the top of the cliffs. My only previous visit to the Isle of Wight was on a school activity camp in Year 6, so I had no memory of how lush and verdant everything is. On Friday night I sampled the “life-changing lasagne” at the Bonchurch Inn (it’s pretty great, can confirm) while on Saturday we took advantage of a windier, drizzlier day for some rest and relaxation indoors. It may not have the most glamorous reputation, but I’d definitely come back.
We’re back! Prior to last weekend I’d only been to New York twice in my life, and both times in February. So when Randi and I were first invited to Mike and Melissa’s wedding, I was doubly excited: both to celebrate these wonderful human beings, but also to experience the city without a coat. Later, after Randi’s family had generously agreed to fly from California in order to provide childcare, Randi also had the inspired idea of contriving a bonus family road trip to New Jersey so that I could boost my state count to 32 states. So I was really looking forward to this trip for all sorts of reasons, and it didn’t disappoint.
We flew into Newark (which is technically in New Jersey anyway, but airports alone don’t count) and drove to Somerset, because this is where Beth and Stewart lived for a couple of years with baby Alex and we thought it’d be nice to go see their old house. We checked into a Residence Inn, which required both a physical credit card (“no contactless”) and – astonishingly – hard cash (!) to be exchanged into quarters (!!) if you wanted to do laundry. (And at the risk of providing too much information, while our flight with a seven month old was only marginally harder than it had been with a three month old, by that point we already had a lot of laundry to do.)
Fortunately, Beth was able to bail us out on all counts. But I would gently plead with the American hotel industry to consider a new approach. Otherwise, Randi found staying at a Residence Inn to be incredibly warm and nostalgic for bringing back childhood holiday memories. We were also proud of ourselves for jamming a toilet roll under the window in order to get some air without requiring the fan. So, overall I’m sure the staff thought we were totally mad.
Obviously it was important to find some distinctly New Jersey experiences, so on Thursday night we headed to the Somerset Diner where Beth and Stu had eaten many times when they lived here. Nothing quite beats a real American diner, from its characteristic features (the huge menu, the giant portions) to the finer details (like the placemat entirely covered in adverts for local small businesses) which just aren’t replicated elsewhere.
If I’m ever in Somerset again, I’d go back. This seems unlikely, though, as it’s not exactly a tourist magnet. Somerset itself is an “unincorporated community” located within “Franklin township”, and despite passing multiple road signs where the township boasted of being “the 5th best place to live in the USA” (at least according to Money Magazine 2008) this wasn’t quite enough to shake my preconception of New Jersey as a poorer, more industrial adjunct to its famous neighbour.
I’m very glad, therefore, that Randi did some emergency research and directed us to Washington Valley Park for a Friday morning walk through the woods. This was absolutely delightful, and a refreshing vision of life in the garden state. (Fortunately, we did not see any venomous Northern Copperheads, and therefore succeeded in giving snakes the “distance and respect” which the information board requested.)
We then enjoyed a scenic drive through Princeton, home of both the eponymous university but also the governor’s residence (“Drumthwacket“). This is a little odd because the state’s capital is two towns over in Trenton, although it’s not hard to guess why “the People’s House” is hidden away here instead. Our next stop was Lawrenceville – an excellent name – home to both an excellent sandwich shop and Rider University where Stewart studied as an undergraduate.
Our visit coincided with graduation weekend, which happens elsewhere, so the campus was quiet for our walk around the grounds. I appreciated the strict rules for getting a poster up on the noticeboard (“must be approved and stamped by the Office of Campus Life”) and rebelliously parked our buggy in the parking spot “reserved for President Loyack”, purely because there’s something about named parking spaces which makes me want to fight the system.
Also, they have a pub! At least it’s labelled as such, which was very promising, so maybe our child will want to chase his dreams here in a couple of decades’ time. If he does, all I advise is that he stays away from the creepy fraternities on the campus fringe, whose dorm buildings announce their separation from the others with pompous Greek lettering on the side, and oh goodness this is just a bit hard seriously for a glorified teenage drinking club.
Finally, we arrived in Trenton, where the rental car could be handed back and – in exchange – we were all ferried to the Trenton Transit Center to catch our train to New York’s Penn Station. While Randi and I were very grateful to be taxied around by her parents in New Jersey, we did feel a palpable sense of relief to be back on rails, especially as driving with a baby seems fundamentally flawed since you can’t pick them up if they start fussing or crying. Happily, the NJ Transit route seemed both frequent and well-used.
The view from the train thereby completed my New Jersey experience, at least for now, as we passed through stations such as Elizabeth, New Brunswick and – my favourite – Rahway. As in, there’s genuinely a railway station called Rahway Station, as though it’s just very posh.
And now… New York! On this trip we stayed entirely within Brooklyn, which feels somewhat more ‘Londony’ than Manhattan with its relative greenery and lower-rise buildings. But only somewhat. Overall, NYC’s urban infrastructure is genuinely unique within the United States. (Shout-out to the much improved subway cars on the A train we rode to the hotel!) But at the same time it’s very obvious that you’re still in an American city, just from a hundred little things, just as London may be a fellow ‘world city’ but is unambiguously still the British capital. People sometimes imply that these giant cities stand completely apart from their countries, but it’s just not true.
Good New York thing: the new subway map (rolled out last year) is so delightful and such an improvement. I’m so proud they finally did it!
Bad New York thing: their drivers feel significantly less tamed. Perhaps it was just because we were staying on the busy Flatbush Avenue, but cars overall feel significantly less tamed.
Anyway, on Friday night, Randi and I (plus baby) walked to Mike and Melissa’s welcome drinks at a nearby brewery, which also featured an incredibly delicious build-your-own-taco buffet. I definitely didn’t need any more food on the way back, but since we were walking by it seemed stupid not to pick up a classic New York pizza slice too, which I also appreciated.
I did not appreciate the suggestion from a random person on the street that if I fell out with Randi at some point in the future I should resort to murder. I’m not saying there aren’t violently minded Londoners, but perhaps they’re just less socialised to offer unsolicited advice, and I’d like to keep it that way. On the other hand, the woman at the hotel the next morning who struck up a conversation with me while I was looking for proper tea bags (not easy) was lovely, if a little pushy. (“I have a niece and nephew in college nearby.” “Are they enjoying it?” “They better be enjoying it! If they want to make a career out of it!”)
On Saturday we did some emergency wedding shopping and then headed over to Prospect Park to hang out with Phoenix and Marcos, last seen on this blog last summer during their holiday to London. Prospect Park is wonderful, and – like all of the parks we saw – was chock-a-block with families enjoying the sunshine. We had a great time catching up, and then Marcos engaged his superpower of “locate nearest food spot which everyone will enjoy” and we brunched at a tasty Italian place.
That night was the wedding itself, which took place in the garden of another Italian restaurant with even more exceptional food. Randi and I were both slightly giddy since it was our first childless night in seven months, and we found it very sweet that – since Mike and Melissa are both lawyers – they were married by a judge which Melissa used to clerk for.
Talking of lawyers: I tried to deter the lawyers sitting on our table from doubling down on their written constitution idea, but unfortunately I think that ship has sailed. Enjoyable conversations though, with an unexpected focus on post-Soviet states. But the person I was most interested in hearing from was Mike and Randi’s mutual uni friend Matt, who is an honest-to-goodness college counsellor: a role which I’ve seen in films but always struggle to imagine as a full-time job. He was lovely, though, with all the earnest idealism of a native San Franciscan who spends his time encouraging teenagers to envision a bright future ahead.
Sunday was Randi’s birthday, which we kicked off with a family walk across the magnificent Brooklyn Bridge. Afterwards, Randi and I scuttled back over to the Brooklyn side for lunch with Rachel and Ana at Miss Ada: a Mediterranean restaurant with lots of sharing plates which was a big hit with both adults and baby alike. The walk there and back took us through another busy park – Fort Greene Park – which was similarly packed out with families.
It will surprise nobody to learn that our next stop was the New York Transit Museum, which has an advantage over the London Transport Museum in that it’s housed in a real abandoned station. Not only does this give the exhibitions plenty of atmosphere, but it also allows them to dedicate the platforms to a whole slew of subway cars from different eras which kids (and non-kids) can happily run through.
There’s also an excellent shop, although I was disappointed not to find any Forest Hills-specific memorabilia which I would have been compelled to buy. I will note, for the record, that the section of the museum about payment systems has some brazen factual inaccuracies about both London and Hong Kong, and implies that New York was some kind of pioneer in contactless. This is… not correct.
After the museum we all went our separate ways, leaving the three of us to enjoy an afternoon wander along Brooklyn Bridge Park. This is a long, linear stretch of greenery by the East River, punctuated by piers, and has a surprising smell of the sea. We ate some ice creams in the sun before setting off to the airport for our overnight flight back home, although not before stopping for one final burst of New York pizza. (I’m not entirely sure why the UK didn’t welcome a generation of late nineteenth century Italian immigrants to sell pizza by the slice, but it was a serious policy error.)
We might all be a little exhausted – and varying degrees of sick – after this mad, nonstop weekend. But it was extremely nice to have a bit of the old travelling feeling back again… and, of course, to scratch off another US state from the scratch map. Still 18 more to go…
If you’re skimming this post only for the baby news, the big update in the last few weeks is that we’ve started weaning! (If you’re bored of all the baby news, I can only apologise.) So far, the good news is that he’s been more than happy to experiment with food. Sometimes, when we’re feeling chill and modern, this has included strips of carrot, sweet potato, avocado, and so on. Also pancakes and latkes! At other times, after we’ve talked ourselves into paranoia around choking, we’ve retreated to the mashed baby food of yore like porridge, mashed potato and yoghurt.
Either way, he’s definitely into it, and is also methodically working his way through the allergens. (Obviously, you should introduce allergens in priority order based on how sad you would personally feel if your baby couldn’t eat them. Dairy would be tragic. Shellfish less so. I am not a doctor.)
Mainstream clinical advice is that babies should not consume ice cream or beer, but this doesn’t extend to parents. So on a sunny Saturday in March, we celebrated his very first high-chair meal with a trip to the Crystal Palace Food Market. We’d never visited before, but the ice cream flavours included rhubarb, so we will be going back. From there, we moved on to the Gipsy Hill Brewery Taproom. Originally, this was driven by a birthday voucher for a brewery tour from Tash and Cormac, but over email the company had patiently explained that it would be hard for them to deliver a brewery tour now that production has moved to Kent, and perhaps I’d be happy if it was converted into a voucher for drinks at the taproom instead? More than happy, guys!
Another big family outing in March was Randi’s citizenship ceremony at Lewisham Town Hall in Catford! In the interest of protecting his privacy I won’t post the (mandatory) photo of Randi posing with a portrait of the King, but while anything involving the monarchy is always going to feel very odd – especially with an American – my overwhelming feeling was how warm and Londony the ceremony was. Most of the time, you likely just take for granted quite how wide the range of backgrounds in the city is. But having everyone’s home country* announced one-by-one as they collect their naturalisation certificates felt like a peek into the superdiversity engine which, I increasingly suspect, is an essential foundation to sustain liberalism today.
I also found it very funny that the newly-minted citizens were divided into two sections of the chamber based on whether they had chosen to say the religious ‘oath’ or non-religious ‘affirmation’ of allegiance. I understand this was for boring practical reasons of making sure everyone said the right magic words at the same time, but it felt like they were setting things up for a controversial revival of CBBC’s excellent gameshow 50/50 (ask your parents).
I will also note, with my historian hat on, that we were promised a “history of the borough” in the email and very much did not receive one, even though Jay Foreman has produced some great videos on the London Government Act 1963.
But still, I’d taken the day off work for the occasion, so after we finished up at the Civic Suite (which charmingly includes the fancy old Mayor’s chair from the council chamber as a novelty seat in the foyer) we headed over to the Perry Hill pub for an authentically British celebration. It’s taken a while, but at least everybody in this household now shares at least one common passport!
Recently we also had Reema and Esther over for dinner, during which I hope we successfully encouraged Esther to reconnect with her old school pal David Broadband. A few nights later, Randi and I were invited over to kick off the long Easter weekend with NCT friends Jordan and Miska. And speaking of NCT: a week later, we caught up with the rest of the gang at Horniman Market, and it is true that knowing just a few parents with kids the same age and within walking distance (even if those kids are still amusingly different sizes!) is a really nice thing to have.
But getting back to Easter itself: our biggest family adventure in recent weeks was to Bury St Edmunds, which was an exceptionally lovely trip. The sun was shining, our Airbnb came with virtually its own secret entrance to the Abbey Gardens, and both Bubbe and baby got to experience Suffolk for the first time. Shout-out to Randi for remembering to take us all to Nowton Park after she discovered it on a run last time, and to the cheesemonger back in Bury who sold us a wide variety of very tasty cheeses for our Saturday night feast! Then, on Sunday, we took the train to Diss for a very special Sunday roast at Ampersand Brew Tap with my uncle Derek and aunt Ginny and cousins Julie and Daisy.
I don’t get to see this side of the family very often, but we had such a great afternoon catching-up on everything from baby news (massive congratulations to my cousin Kieron!) to the Artemis II space mission, which Derek was following with the same baseline interest and enthusiasm which my dad would have had. I am also grateful to Daisy for agreeing to split a chocolate brownie with me, as otherwise the prospect of dessert would have been dashed. Afterwards we all went for a walk on the fens nearby, before returning to the brewery where Randi – clearly envious of my earlier haul at Gipsy Hill – picked up some craft beers of her own. The perfect Easter outing.
We very much intend to keep returning to East Anglia as a family, even though we’re now another generation removed, so I hope we did a reasonable job with our first indoctrination attempt. But we also have brainwashing goals back in London too, and perhaps none more important than Hampstead Heath.
Josh and I have been promising each other for literally decades now that we would slowly mind-trick our future children into enjoying long walks by meeting up on the Heath, and last weekend we finally accomplished this for the first time! I mean, sure, not everyone was walking yet. And at one point we actually had to exit the Heath to save the buggy from a dust storm. But we got there, so onwards and upwards.
(Pro-tip: we were looking for a semi-affordable lunch in Belsize Park beforehand and came across Brad & Dills, which is tucked implausibly around what feels like a hospital service road but I promise is real and does excellent bagels. I also accidentally ordered more doughnuts here than I meant to by saying “we’ll take one of each!” and not realising there were more than two kinds, but I regret nothing.)
Finally, we’ve also managed to watch a couple of long-form things recently! The first was Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery, i.e. the third installment of the wonderful Benoit Blanc murder mysteries, and honestly I could enjoy these forever. Ideally I’d enjoy them in an actual cinema, but Netflix’s release window is a crime all of its own, so we tried to watch it on Beth’s account as, no, we still don’t have Netflix. This was our intention, at least, but actually we ended up adding a “Beth” to Sam Pow’s Netflix account (look, if you sign into Netflix on our TV, it’s gonna stay there for a while) and triggering a wave of confusion on her side about what on earth was going on. Sorry, Sam!
The other thing we saw – yesterday, in fact! – was Heart Wall at the Bush theatre. This was the other voucher from my birthday last year which was rapidly reaching its expiration date (thanks, Katie and James!) so Randi and I were doubly excited to find one of the Bush’s “relaxed performances” on a weekend matinee. Essentially, this just means there’s an expectation that some members of the audience, for a variety of reasons, may need to make some noise or leave and re-enter the show. It’s a brilliant idea, especially if – like us – you have a baby who is largely willing to sleep through the performance. (He woke up at the end to the sound of clapping all around him, which must have been a little weird.)
Anyway: the play itself was also brilliant! Don’t fool yourself into thinking that we picked something child-friendly for his first theatre outing. This is an emotional family drama about buried grief, set somewhere in the North West of England, and staged mostly in the local pub – the kind of pub where everybody knows each other and the karaoke machine is always available. (Here I’ll pause and voice my respect for the audience members who volunteered to have a go at some karaoke beforehand.)
In the play proper, we start with 23 year old Franky’s surprise visit home from her detached London life. But despite what you might guess, it’s not really a play about class or place. Instead, we see the unravelling of the tragic events which clouded Franky’s childhood, building to an emotional confrontation with dad Dez. Honestly, Heart Wall is just one of those plays where everything just kinda works. Every individual performance is very strong, there’s a good balance of light and dark, and the pace moves well through a single act. Highly recommended.
Finally, and apropos nothing, please enjoy my sad face when I realise I’ve taken the wrong branch of the Windrush line home after a day in the office:
(*P.S. If you’re thinking that ‘home country’ is a confusing term for me to choose here, because of course Britain is now also a home country, the truth is that I originally wrote ‘country-of-origin’ before deciding it sounded too much like a food label.)
Happy new year! As you already know, we spent a week in Chicago in a sneaky attempt to persuade our child that, relatively speaking, London really isn’t that cold. In truth, the Chicago winters are a little overhyped: you just have to dress appropriately for the weather, and snow is generally lovely. The only thing to really worry about is ice. I think it’s fair to say that I’m not a fan of ice. Ice is malicious and dangerous, so it’s inspiring to see the steps which Chicago takes to defeat it.
The flight there was very easy – our baby even received the “baby of the day award” for his lack of crying from a flight attendant who was clearly not a fan of babies in general. Thanks to AJ meeting us at the airport, he also enjoyed his very first journey in a car! (We’re planning on teaching him that cars are a uniquely North American invention, although others have already been sceptical that this will work.)
Using Catherine and AJ’s home as a warm and cosy base, we did venture out a few times to see other people, starting with a Sunday afternoon at Toggolyn’s. Very excitingly, Ellen – last seen on this blog in 2021! – was able to join us, and together we all had a super interesting conversation about blogging and writing. I think sometimes the idea of a regular person in 2026 sitting on their own and working on a piece of writing for personal reasons can seem so implausible – even though it’s literally what I’m doing right now – that it’s genuinely a bit surprising to learn that other people do it too.
(Side-note: I felt this surprise again today – back in London – when I heard about someone else’s scribbled notes during a pub meetup with our NCT group. Is everyone still still secretly writing? I would find this reassuring.)
A few days later we joined Julie, Colleen and Karol for a delicious cajun brunch at Big Jones, which was extremely tasty. I mean, someday Randi and I have got to find our way back to a Yats, but in the meantime this hit the spot.
Meanwhile, visitors to the apartment included Christian & Erica and kids (a brief stopover and tornado of lovable chaos) and Anna & Ned’s family, with whom we shared an order from Randi’s favourite Thai restaurant. We also made our obligatory and much-anticipated visit to Janik’s for brunch with Mike & Melissa, who were visiting Chicago at the same time from New York, and received Buffalo Bills baby gifts!
But otherwise, we mostly enjoyed a lot of great home cooking (Detroit pizza night being a particular highlight for me) and made various attempts to match all of the kids in the same outfits. This really came to a head on New Year’s Eve, when party hats were briefly thrown into the mix too, and the resulting photos are surely something to treasure and\or grist for anti-parent angst later on during their teenage years.
Oh, and I’m pretty proud of the popularity of my very own children’s stories about creepy Mr. Google and his nosy, data-collecting habits…
Thank you so much to Catherine and AJ for hosting us, as always!
It’s most definitely summer, which in our family also means it’s peak birthday season. For mine, we had a family dinner at Took Took in West Hampstead, followed by a little walk along the path through Fortune Green and behind Hampstead Cemetery which we used to do on my birthday every year growing up.
Randi and I also spent a lovely evening at Angela’s new flat, which – happily – is right around the corner from us. We also spent a wonderful Saturday at Simon and Fleur’s barbecue with a mix of familiar faces and some new people I’d never met before. Not only did I consume a healthy mix of beer and burgers, but I also got to test-drive an empty buggy around the block under the influence of this beer plus burger mix. Apologies to the people of Hassocks if we looked very strange.
On the way home our convoluted train route led to an unplanned stop at Kartuli in East Dulwich for dinner, and therefore some unexpected khachapuri. This was delicious, even though – strictly speaking – it wasn’t really khachapuri weather. Equally delicious was our dinner at Dishoom with Robert a few weeks ago, who was passing through London for a night and spent his evening with us. Coincidentally, I also enjoyed a Zoom-based Groupon catch-up with Todd Webb later that week, who made me even more nostalgic for the days when we were all in an office together.
Recently I also went out for an evening with Jill, although we quickly abandoned our usual haunt thanks to it being live music night at The Island (nothing against it, but not great for talking) and switched to Curry Nights instead. I also swapped stories of product management with Katie’s friend Caitlin over drinks in Southwark, before grabbing food at Mercato Metropolitano and accidentally taking home one of their food buzzers. But our big social achievement was finding a weekend for Josh, Anna and Cora to visit our place for a sleepover! Together we made tacos, invented new games to play with Dominion cards, danced to the Mosquito song (the Minidisco playlist of the classic Spanish holiday resort having been updated since my day) and, in the morning, ate loads of pancakes before exploring the Horniman Gardens.
Randi was in Scotland last weekend, so I took a couple of days off work and made a slightly impromptu trip to Chicago. My short stay was clearly a bit suspicious to the immigration officers (“you’re here for two days?” “well, three days if you count today!”), but the double round of questioning at customs was more than made up for by the shortest queues I’ve ever enjoyed at O’Hare. Then I was nerdishly delighted to get one of the newer Blue line trains for the journey into town – spick and span and filled with suburbanites travelling into Chicago for 4th July the next day. That train from the airport is how Randi and I always take the temperature of how Chicago is doing, and this time the omens were very good.
Todd and Carolyn very kindly hosted me on this trip, and that afternoon I enjoyed a few beers in the sun with Todd and Dolly Dietz – Robert’s very adorable dog, who they were looking after – before ordering Antique Taco for dinner. I also playtested Todd’s murder mystery (albeit sadly not in its ultimate setting of the Bahamas) and enjoyed a can of Salted Lemonade courtesy of Benno and Shelby’s Five Corners beverage company. While I haven’t seen these guys in years, the fact that they are running an independent husband-and-wife business surprises me not at all, and made me smile.
The next day was 4th July (or July 4th?) so we headed over to Robert and Julie’s, both to return custody of Dolly and to celebrate freedom and independence etc. etc. I was inordinately proud of not being the first to be eliminated from Bernie’s drawing-based game, although he was probably just being kind, while Grant (accurately) labelled me a weirdo when I was being weird. The only thing I was less thrilled about was the start of all the random neighbourhood fireworks, which – at least when you’re at ground level – feel less like fireworks and more like a coordinated attack of the well-regulated militia. But I’m aware that I’m in a deep minority here – only Dolly felt the same way! – and at least once we joined the neighbours’ rooftop we could appreciate the spectacle from a safer height.
Since Robert had told a very long story about watching Landman on a plane, Todd and I resolved to watch the first episode before going to bed that night. It was excellent, in the sense that it was terrible, and so there was a lot to enjoy. I did also get some genuine satisfaction at hearing ‘advertisement’ being spoken in a Southern accent with the same pronunciation as my British accent.
The next morning, we brought Carolyn up to speed with the culture she had missed over breakfast at Bang Bang Pie & Biscuits, where I had some very tasty biscuits and gravy. Then, I attempted to introduce Toggolyn to Jet Lag! I’m not sure if I fully converted them, but we all agreed that chasing your friends around Switzerland by train is much more fun than getting blown up together at a malfunctioning oil well. And finally, Todd allowed me to wander around ancient Athens for a bit within Assassin’s Creed. The original intent was to find Socrates so that we could have a nice argument, but in the end I just took to the random murder of innocent bystanders, surprising both Todd and myself with my ability to run away quickly enough from any retribution.
I had one more stop to make before flying home that night. This was a very special afternoon at Catherine and AJ’s, who are only one week into welcoming the newest member of the family. I felt incredibly lucky to be able to hang out with them all together, and at this point in my life it’s also deeply reassuring to see everybody doing so well too.
The journey home was all very smooth, and the week afterwards we did some transatlantic hosting in reverse when Melissa came to stay for a few days! Along with a decent sampling of our local pubs, on Tuesday night we all went out to see Nye together at the National Theatre. This play is a tribute to the life of Aneurin Bevan, the founder of the NHS, and its existence alone does something to capture the peculiar relationship between Britain and its healthcare system. As you’d expect, Michael Sheen gives an amazing performance, and the play does an excellent job of zooming around Bevan’s life and career. I particularly enjoyed the staging of the climactic showdown with the BMA in 1948.
This week we also went to Kirsty’s summer party (where I hit my quota of strangers to talk to) and enjoyed a relaxed Friday night with my mum. Finally, shortly after hitting publish on this blog we’ll be off to Sidcup to spend the afternoon with Tomas and Roberta, which I’m very excited about! [Update: we did indeed have a wonderful afternoon hanging out together with their family in their sunny garden, eating delicious salmon, sharing Randi’s lemon & blackberry cake and making out like bandits with a giant pile of baby things. Thanks guys!]
Linda Moffitt on Colombia: “Such a sweet memory of the four of you meeting up in Colombia!” Dec 2, 07:42
