Tuesday: The Day All Three Lines Went Down at Once

I woke up at 10:00 today; my glacial recovery from jet lag continues. We seemed to always have trouble gauging how long it takes to get anyplace in London. It takes an hour to get anywhere. You spend half of your time waiting for a crosswalk signal to turn green.

We went to the Winter Wonderland, an outdoor carnival of sorts, at Hyde Park. It had everything: rides, food, and, as a sign proclaimed, "German's Beer."

Graham wanted to do the Ferris wheel and Virginia did a ride where you sat in a chair suspended by chains as it spun around and around. Frank sat on a small motorcycle on a carousel. Frank and Virginia went into a haunted mansion, inexplicably decorated for Christmas. It was 6 pounds and could not have lasted more than two minutes. We had not left enough time to do any more, but vowed to come back the next day. We did not have time to take the tube so we hailed a classic London taxi and headed to the National Gallery.

From the computer room we plotted a course through the museum where the kids would get to see monsters. But even Perseus turning Phineas to stone was not enough to keep a five and seven year old interested. We caught a few Van Gogh painting, a Seurat and some work by Monet before ducking out. I was sorry to go.

Outside the National Gallery, the boys ran around and took photos of the Christmas Tree. Then we crossed the street to go to St. Martins in the Fields to do a little brass rubbing. The boys loved this. Basically they wrap black paper over a brass etching, and then the boys rubbed a colored crayon sort of thing over it to make an impression of it. We then had dinner in the Crypt Cafe. This is in the basement of St. Martin in the Fields. It was a tad macabre. While we were there some fellow abandoned his tray of food before paying. It was strange. Perhaps he got spooked at the idea of eating soup and drinking a beer on a floor made of the gravestones of church members from the 1800s. Creepily delicious!

After dinner we headed back out to Trafalgar Square where they have caroling under the Norwegian Christmas Tree, given to England every year as thanks for keeping the Royal Family of Norway safe during WWII. The groups that sing are volunteers, mostly raising money for a cause they support.

After the kids went to bed, Polly and I left her sister and mom with the kids while we went to try out the pub around the corner, the Tea Clipper. We walked in and everyone was watching the TV right above the door. We were attracted to the place immediately for its neighborhood feel and friendly staff. It had a real Christmas tree in the corner. nice.

It was filled with men, hitting the pub on their way home from work, it appeared. They came in to watch the soccer game. When it was over, they all bailed out. We chatted up the bartender, who was not in the best spirits, because all three of the ale lines went dry at the same time. Apparently when that happens, you have to pull the tap to fill 15 pitchers with water, 5 pitchers of line cleaning solution, and then 15 pitchers of water. He then had to repeat that process three times. And then the 22:00 rush hit. Eighteen kids showed up at once and all got carded. You can drink beer and cider at 18 here. The bartender hurriedly filled pitchers of water and orders. At one point he exclaimed to his co-worker, "You help these people. My bloody arm's about to fall off."

Polly and I shared a shot of Laphroaig, a delicious single malt scotch. Then we called it a night after I got to try out the tap.

When they rang the bell for last call, I could tell the bartender was relieved, even though he had two more lines to clear.

And then off to bed, closing out our most successful day of touring.