Socal Mom by Donna Schwartz Mills

Guest Post: SoCal Dad Does Wimbledon

Greetings my fellow peeps and peepettes. This is Gareth, husband to SocalMom. But you can call me Sir.

After many years idling in the background, I have finally been honored with the opportunity to post on here.

I can’t mess this up. So, no bad language or inappropriate innuendo allowed, just intellectual witicisms. Dunno if I can do that. Oh well.

The End.

…….. Gareth.

Uh, for my inaugural post, I am in Wimbledon, on Court Number 1.

But first some background. The only reason I am in Britain at all is because of Wimbledon.

But this post wouldn’t be as entertaining if I didn’t tell you all (I have lots of fans) of the lead-up to my Wimbledon trip. And you know what ? Everything in this post you are about to read is travel-related, which is what Donna’s blog is all about. How thoughtful of that is me !! Um …. how thoughtful of me is that ?

My Photo in Schmap Guide

I get to finish the season with a crappy summer virus, which has drained me of what little bit of energy I have to write in this blog.

So in the meantime, here's a nice surprise I received from the publishers of the online Schmap Guides to tourist destinations:

You've been sent a Flickr Mail from Luke Ritchie:

------------------------------------------------------------

:: Schmap Cardiff Third Edition: Photo Inclusion


Hi Donna,

I am delighted to let you know that your submitted photo
has been selected for inclusion in the newly released third
edition of our Schmap Cardiff Guide:

Techniquest
http://www.schmap.com/cardiff/activities_cardiffbay/p=4922/i=4922.jpg

Best regards,

Luke Ritchie,
Managing Editor, Schmap Guides

This is not the best photo I've ever taken (and pales beside the ones my husband has been takng of his home town), but it does convey the vastness of the kids' science museum on Cardiff Bay (and it's fun to be included in something like this).

I hope to post something more substantial tomorrow. In the meantime, read about Techniquest and other fun things to do with kids in the United Kingdom here.

"Toto, We're Not in Anaheim Any More!"

When Gareth and I first started dating, he told me about his hometown of Cardiff. I thought it was romantic that there was a big old castle right in the city center. And when he told me that it is now a popular spot for weddings, I started planning one of my own. (Never mind that when we did finally decide to get married, we ended up in Sacramento -- that fantasy wedding in a castle still sounds so romantic!)

The dream only intensified when I finally got my first peek at Cardiff Castle, in the winter of 1991. (Note the long, curly hair in the photo above -- I did spend an entire decade with a perm!)

"I know you Americans -- all you want to see is castles," my new father-in-law explained, as he drove us around from one ancient relic to another. Although there were plenty of other kinds of sites I wanted to visit, he had a point; until I'd set foot in the United Kingdom, the only castle I'd visited was the one at Disneyland, and I longed to see the real thing. I had come to the right place. Wales is littered with castles. After about a week of sightseeing, I started complaining to my husband that I'd become all castle'd out.

That does not mean that we never returned to any of those castles, especially after we had kids. The truth is that there's nothing quite as exciting for a child to explore as an old castle. (For proof, check out this five-year-old photo of Megan, who enjoyed her visit to Caerphilly Castle despite getting caught in a downpour!)

Another truth about kids: They don't always remember the places you visited five years ago. They also process the information at different ages very differently. That's why, if you had fun seeing a site a few years ago, you may want to do it again, even if you think you'll be bored. After all, it's a different experience for you, too, when you are seeing it through your kids' eyes.

Which brings me back to Cardiff Castle. Megan was still in preschool the last time we took a guided tour there. She had NO MEMORY of the castle interior -- which is a shame, as this old fortress has a fascinating history and contains some of the most spectacular rooms in all of Britain.

The castle (and much of Cardiff) was part of the holdings of John Crichton-Stuart, the 3rd Marquess of Bute, who inherited a huge family fortune, thanks to his father's (the 2nd Marquess) decision to develop Cardiff as a port city to export the coal and other minerals mined on his vast property holdings in Wales. The Marquess was an educated young man with a particular interest in Medieval times, one that he shared with his college friend, an architect named William Burges, who turned the castle's residential apartments into a wild, Gothic fantasy.

As so much of the castle was renovated in the 19th century, purists might decide it's not worth seeing. I disagree. Walking around the castle grounds is like taking a journey through history, as there are bits that date to the Roman Empire, the motted Norman Keep in the center of the courtyard, the residential apartments, which date from the 16th century, and of course, the Burges-designed interiors. These rooms are unlike anything else I've ever seen from both an art and a craftsmanship POV (even more fantastic than Disneyland!). The docents who conduct the tours do an excellent job of explaining the origins of the symbols Burges scattered throughout, and put it all into historical context.

Your kids will love being able to run around the courtyard, climb the steps of the Keep, and watch the peacocks and birds of prey on display there.

Cardiff Castle is open daily (except for Christmas Day, Boxing Day and New Year's Day), from 9:30 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. (March to October) and until 5:00 p.m. the rest of the year. (Last entry is 4:00 p.m.) Admission (including the guided tour of the apartments) is £6.95 for adults (appoximately $14) and £4.30 for children (about $8.50). You may enter the grounds only (without the tour) for about half that price, and there are family and group discounted rates, as well.

The Castle has a gift shop and a full-featured cafe which serves light meals and tea (as well as wine and beer).

A Day at Techniquest

For a blog that's supposed to be focused on family and travel, I've been doing an awful lot of the former and very little of the latter.

This is partly because we're still recovering from our last visit to the United Kingdom and have barely begun to think about leaving home again this year. (Suffice it to say that there will be no BIG, multi-week trips in 2007 -- but we do have some vague plans for some weekend getaways, which will be chronicled here.)

The other reason is that I've simply been overwhelmed by all the everyday parenting and life stuff we've had to deal with here at home. So when I was going over my notes, I was surprised to discover that I'd neglected to write about one of the best kid spots in all of Cardiff, Wales.

Techniquest is a kids' science museum, located in a huge, hangar-like structure in the very trendy and modern development of Cardiff Bay. We had visited many times in the past, but had no plans to go this time, as Megan is now nearly 11 and I felt she had outgrown it.

"No, I haven't! I want to go!" she protested. As it was yet another rainy, cold, dreary day, we decided to go for it. So did my brother-in-law, who holds an annual yearly membership for his boys.

	It turns out that Megan was right. We spent a couple of happy hours there (until the place closed), and I didn't hear one complaint that she was bored. The museum features dozens of brain-teasing hands-on puzzles and exhibits that challenge the kids... and on that day, my husband and his brother, who spent the afternoon competing to see who could solve them the fastest. All afternoon, the kids pretty much had to fight their dads to get to play them! The ground floor of Techniquest deals with all manners of science and physics. Hands-on exhibits like what happens when you fire a rocket; testing your reaction time; racing electric cars; launching a hot air balloon, etc. The second floor is more of the same, with a lot of the exhibit space devoted to sound and light and their properties. There are some cool music-making activities, and demonstrations on how sound travels. There are also a couple of theater areas for live presentations. We attended one on bubbles. I was impressed by how entertained the kids could be by something so low-tech. The two museum staffers demonstrated bubbles and their properties (creating the kind of soap bubbles we are used to but also using different gases to make bubbles that could ignite). The highlight was when an audience member was invited to stand inside a giant bubble, which they created by instructing the child to stand in the center of a halved truck tire that held the bubble solution -- and using a hula hoop for the wand.

Techniquest is open Monday through Friday from 9:30 to 4:30 and Weekends and holidays from 10:00 - 5:00. Admission is £6.90 for adults and £4.80 for children (approximately $13.80 and $9.50, respectively). There are also family and group rates available.

The museum also has a nice cafe and gift store (and plenty of good restaurants within walking distance).

Jump in Cardiff

Today, I begin a series of posts about kid-friendly sites in Cardiff from our recent UK visit. I wrote this in longhand during our recent visit to Cardiff:

I text my husband: "I'M IN HELL."

The Hades in question is 123 Jump, a huge indoor playground for the elementary school set.

The truth, however, is that it's not that bad -- definitely not as bad as one would expect, given the fact that it's a rainy afternoon during Christmas break, and it appears that every harried mum in Cardiff has had the same idea. After all, what else do you do with your energetic little tykes when your home is too tiny to contain them and the parks are too cold and wet for comfort?

No matter how many terrific sites you see on a vacation with kids, they need some time and space to unwind and run around. That's why we try to build park and playground visits on our family trips. And this place happens to be the best run indoor play establishment I've ever visited. It puts Chuck E. Cheese to shame.

Housed in a gigantic strudcture within a modern industrial park, 123 Jump's centerpiece is a monstrous climbing structure. It also boasts a trampoline (supervised and sheltered with security netting), coin-operated bowling, age-appropriate video games, a moonbounce, ball pit, preschool area, and a decent cafe, which swerves healthy meal options in addition to the usual kid favorites like sausage, chicken nuggets and chips.

Unfortunately, we've arrived too late to commandeer a nice table in the cafe, and as I'm laden with all the coats, jackets and backpacks brought by my daughter and two nephews, I'm not in a good position to hover round so I can swoop in on a table as soon as it becomes empty. Besides, there aren't any. The lucky parents already here are in position for the duration.

Fortunately, 123 Jump has plenty of wide, cushioned benches situated throughout the facility, so I at least have a place to dump said accoutrements while I settle in for our visit. I'll deal with the tabvle situation should the kids stop running around long enough to realize they're hungry.

In the meantime, if the noise gets too unbearable, I can move into the sound-proofed quiet room where I can keep tabs on the little monkeys via CCTV.

That never happened. And at 4:00, as the time rolled around for the mums to gather up their kids and start cooking dinner, several tables freed up in the cafe... which is a good thing, because as I predicted, the kids suddenly decided they were hungry. We ended up visiting 123 Jump three times over the three weeks we were in Cardiff, and the kids never got tired of it. Weirdly enough, neither did I. It's kind of nice to have a little time to sit by yourself with a book and know that the kids are happy and safe (the place has tons of staff supervising all the areas. That does not excuse you from your own duties -- but right now, with an almost-11 year old, I don't feel as compelled to watch her every single second of the day in a place like this.)

Time Travelers

Yesterday afternoon, we took Virgin Atlantic's 3:00 p.m. flight out of Heathrow, back home to Los Angeles. Through the miracle of passing through several time zones, after being in the air for close to 11 hours, we landed at 7:30 p.m.

All of us managed to stay awake for the entire flight, except for Megan, who rested her head on my arm and dozed off while we were taxi-ing to to the arrivals gate.

With all the security measures and miserable long lines, the flying experience is not as much fun as it used to be. We left Cardiff at 10:00 a.m. yesterday morning and practically flew down the M4 to get to Heathrow by 12:00... but even though we had used online check-in the day before, it took us 90 minutes to get through the baggage check and three different security checks to the departure lounge.

New baggage restrictions mean weight limits are now being strictly enforced. If you exceed them, you no longer have the option of paying more for the overage (at least, on Virgin). Also, ladies handbags now counts as carry-on luggage (you used to be able to bring a purse in addition to your one carry-on). So if you are bringing a laptop, all the items you usually carry around with you have to fit into your computer bag. This includes the one-quart ziplock plastic bag you must use for any liquids or gels you wish to take on the plane (medication, lip balm or lipstick, hand lotion, etc.)

There is one exception to the one-item carry-on limit: Once you get through all the security, any items you purchase in the airport duty-free stores are OK to take on the plane. And the departure lounge at Heathrow resembles an upscale shopping mall, with about two dozen stores including Bally, Burberry, Hermes, and a satellite Harrod's. Best of all, because the customers have all been cleared for international travel, all of the items are sold without the exorbitant 17.5% value added tax.

So for the three weeks we were in the United Kingdom, I refrained from purchasing any souvenirs or gifts for my friends, figuring I could do it during the usually boring wait for our flight to board. Unfortunately, the time we spent in various lines getting to the departure lounge (combined with the fact that we were all hungry and needed to grab some lunch) only left me with about 20 minutes to shop. I blitzed into the little Harrod's (which, like its big city brother was having a half price sale - HOORAY!) and picked up just a few items for friends. In my rush, I probably didn't grab the best things, and I ended up leaving some people out.

"The next time we come, we have to get to the airport at least three hours before our flight," I grumbled to my husband.

The flight itself was fairly easy. This was the first trip where we flew mid-week, and besides costing a lot less, I was surprised at how uncrowded the airports were, both in Los Angeles and London. But it also meant that we were traveling on smaller Airbus planes instead of large 747's. I found the seats on our A340-600 more spacious than in the 747's -- but lacking in amenities like lavatories (just two available in our section of the plane; a real issue when you are on board for over 10 hours).

And while Virgin feeds you often on these transatlantic flights, I was disappointed by the quality of the food. I suppose that in an age of no-frills flying I should be pleased that we are given meals at all -- but I miss the fresh fruit and vegetables they used to include, even for those of us flying economy. I also miss being able to walk into the galley and request any kind of beverage on hand. Instead, passengers are now encouraged to take water from fountains available in the middle of the economy cabin. The crew even suggested that we keep the small water bottles that were served with our meal to refill from the fountains. I dunno -- it just struck me as chintzy. And the one thing that used to distinguish Virgin from the other airlines is that flying in Economy didn't feel like you were being treated like a poor relation.

Other than that, the airline still sparkles when it comes to inflight entertainment. The on-demand entertainment system offered a choice of 58 different movies, and over 25 different TV shows... plus documentaries, special children's programming and games that could be played solo or with other passengers. I caught up on some movies I have been dying to see ("Little Miss Sunshine" and "The Queen"), enjoyed some favorite TV series ("The Office," "Arrested Development," "Extras," and "Life on Mars") and played several rounds of "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire" (getting as high as $250,000 -- no small feat, considering the majority of the trivia questions were designed for British players).

The choices were so varied that my husband and daughter could offer a completely different account of how they spent their time on board (with very few complaints from Megan that she was actually bored).

Upon landing, we found ourselves dealing with weather that was a lot like what we left in Britain: cold, windy and rainy. Unlike Britain, the outlook today is sunny and warm.

It's good to be home.

And Yesterday, We All Took a Bath

(Note: Some of the photos in this post were taken by Megan -- I really have to pack EACH of us a camera the next time! -- and in a few days, I may add some taken by Gareth. Stay tuned.)

I had a good laugh Christmas Eve, while watching the weather report on the BBC News channel.

"Today was cold and gray all over the country," the weather reporter intoned. "Tomorrow we'll have more of the same. Frankly, we don't foresee anything different until later in the week, when we will see a drastic change…"

I held my breath, hoping for the announcement that we would finally have a sunny day.

"…when the gale winds return, bringing colder temperatures and rain."

Drastic change? I told my husband of this forecast, and he just groaned. Of course, having grown up here, he couldn't have expected anything else in late December. The days are short, the skies are gray, and the temps are as far away from Southern California as you can get.

"It's beautiful in L.A.," my sister told me on the phone Boxing Day. As usual, she spent Christmas Eve with her mother-in-law in San Pedro, before moving up to our house. (After all, why should the fact that we're not there prevent her and her family from spending a restful day at our house before driving back up to Sacramento.) "The sun is shining, and I think it must have hit 80 degrees this afternoon."

"Is it smoggy?" I asked her.

"No, it's clear and beautiful," she replied.

I sighed. I was definitely feeling a whiff of homesickness. Come to think of it, that's what usually happens after I've been away for two weeks. It's predictable.

Besides, after three days of Christmas partying, we were all getting a little stir crazy. I still cannot get used to the fact that EVERYTHING closes here from late afternoon Christmas Eve until the end of Boxing Day on December 26. That's three days of little to do but enjoy the company of your family within the confines of your home. Yes, the parks are open and we saw plenty of folks walking around Roath Park Lake, but that wasn't all that appealing to this heat-seeking Californian.

It was clear to all of us that it was time to plan a day trip.

In 15 years of travel to Britain, I've seen remarkably little of the country. For years, we've talked about taking side trips to other areas of interest: the Lake District, Devon, Cornwall, even North Wales and Edinburgh. The problem with each of those locales is that it would take more than an hour's drive to get there - and all would be more enjoyable in the summer, when we have a shot at enjoying some decent weather.

"How about Bath?" I asked my husband.

Bath is in southwest England, just about one hour's drive from Cardiff (and two hours from London). Gareth and I met friends there on my very first trip to the UK 15 years ago, and we returned with his fam ily a few years later, but we've never brought Megan there, so it would be new to her.

"I don't know. You really want to go to Bath again?" he asked.

Well, it's close. There's plenty to see and do there. And the gorgeous architecture and scenery would ensure that he would be able to take some wonderful photos, even if the weather is horrible. That last point clinched the deal. We awoke early yesterday and set out for Bath.

We couldn't have picked a better day. "What's that funny looking yellow thing up in the sky?" my husband joked.

"I believe it's called the sun, Gareth," I said. And it remained visible in the sky until it set.

Bath has been designated a UNESCO World Heritage site, thanks to its spectacular Georgian architecture and the remains of baths and temple built when the town was a major outpost of the Roman Empire. However, the restorative waters of the hot spring that gives the city its name have made it a destination since the days of the Celts. This year, the city opened up a state-of-the-art new spa where modern day visitors can experience the reputed healing properties of Bath's famous hot spring.

We began our day by touring the ruins of the Roman baths, which were uncovered in the 1880's by sewer system workers. Excavation revealed one of the most elaborate structures left by the Roman occupiers. As I'm still feeling a little guilty for taking Megan out of school three days early so we could save some money on this trip, I've been determined to include some education for her. This was a no-brainer.

The tour concluded in the 18th Century Pump Room, where Jane Austen (and many of her characters) often dined. There, a man dressed in Georgian attire was handing out glasses of the fabled spring water. Gareth and I weren't going to try it again, but Megan was game.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said after her first exploratory sip. "It's not so bad." She then proceeded to drink the water and almost did a spit take. "Yes it is that bad!" she coughed. We thanked the gentleman as we returned her glass.

It was lunchtime and the Pump Room was still fairly empty, so we decided to stay for a bite. The room is rather formal, with a bill of fare to match. Fortunately, they offered a children's menu that included simple dishes like spaghetti, so everyone was happy.

Gareth and I do not usually drink at lunch, but the ambiance of the room suggested that a glass of champagne would not be inappropriate. I started my meal with a mixed green salad dressed with an olive oil and coarse mustard vinaigrette. Both Gareth and I ate the Slow Roast Belly of Somerset Pork, a small roulade of meat set on a bed of creamed cabbage and leek-mash potatoes and apple gravy. It was delicious, but I think my mother-in-law made the best choice: a vegetarian strudel of butternut squash and spinach in puff pastry.

It was after 2:00 when lunch was finished, and Gareth wanted to get some pictures of Bath's famous Royal Crescent, where people still reside. As we only had about 90 minutes of daylight left, we decided to find it - but first, we were captivated by a pair of very professional buskers, performing a juggling and unicycle act in front of the Pump Room. (Sample patter: "Oh, you're from America? Here on holiday - or studying a foreign language?")

As we made our way back down to the center of town, we passed the Jane Austen Center, and I realized that there was so much to do and see in Bath that we should have planned this to be an overnight visit. We decided to leave Jane for the next time so we might be able to tour the city's magnificent Abbey before it closed at 4:00.

It was dark when we exited the Abbey gift shop and we were feeling a little peckish, so we decided to have a spot of tea before heading back to Cardiff. We stopped at Sally Lunn's, which has been in operation for 300 years in Bath's oldest former residence (built around 1482 -- but with foundations that date back to when the Romans were there). Sally Lunn herself was a French refugee who opened a shop in 1680, where she sold buns that became the rage of Georgian England... and whose recipe is still used today. I ordered the "Victorian Cream tea," which included one-half toasted bun smeared with the establishment's own lemon curd and accompanied with clotted cream. My bun-half looked like the bottom of a giant hamburger bun -- but it was soft and fresh and yummy, as was the lemon curd. I would definitely return.

We left Bath feeling happy and full. And as we awoke this morning to a day of steady rain, we are happy to have had a sunny day in Bath.

(See more of our photos at Flickr!)

Another Christmas in Wales

In many ways, this visit has been much like those in the past -- and in others, it's completely different.

This is our first Christmas without my father-in-law, who passed away last December 27. The first year being the hardest, I felt it was important for my husband and daughter to spend the holiday here.

What has struck me the most is how life goes on. My mother-in-law is doing amazingly well. Of course, she is a very matter-of-fact woman, no drama queen tendencies there. What good is it to emote endlessly about your loss? (Which is what I would be doing.) As I said, life goes on. And everything here feels very normal -- except for the void left by my father-in-law, which expresses itself in unexpected ways.

In the meantime, we are enjoying catching up with my brother- and sister-in-law and their three boys. My sister-in-law has two other nieces visiting from London. The older girl is the same age as Megan (their birthdays are about one week apart), and all six children are getting on like gangbusters. It is wonderful to watch Megan just fitting in, as if she's been here all her life (which she has, but only for a few weeks every 18 months or so). She even got invited to a Christmas party last night, at the gym here in Cardiff where she has been training on our visits.

A couple of days ago, we all went down to Cardiff's "New" Theatre (which was actually opened in 1906) to see this year's pantomime production, "Jack and the Beanstalk." In the last few years, Cardiff has become something of a media center, largely due to the fact that the new version of Doctor Who is produced by BBC Wales -- so this year's panto stars someone who I've actually seen on television. John Barrowman had a memorable role in the first new Doctor Who series and has been spun off into a series of his own. He's also an American transplant -- and I have to say it was kind of funny to hear the silly lines of the panto delivered by someone with an American accent.

A number of Yank actors are doing panto in Britain this season, including Patrick Duffy and Henry Winkler, so this may be becoming a trend. I can understand why it would appeal to them -- they get to be on the stage doing light physical comedy for a very short run -- with none of the pressure that would come from doing a play on Broadway. Who knows? Maybe someone will mount a successful panto in the States some time.

More tomorrow (I hope). In the meantime, check out my husband's photos here. (I have to charge my own camera up so I can take some more of my own)

London Photos are Finally Up!

I've been in the UK for a week now, and it is taking me this long to become acclimated to the point where my mobile works, my Internet access is reliable (when I am able to spend time at Starbucks), and I feel functional.

See my London and Speen photos here. (Never heard of Speen? Me either. But due to a jack-knifed lorry, we spent four hours on the M4 from London and only went about 40 miles. We were detoured off near Newbury, tired, and looking for a place to stay... and found a bed and breakfast in the little village of Speen.)

Have to dash now... will add descriptions to the photos and a proper post later...

London Wrap-Up

The Internet access here at the Sheraton ParkLane is so s-l-o-w and so expensive that I didn't bother to try it again... until this morning, when I needed it to check on my husband's flight over (Virgin Atlantic does not have a listing in the phone book, and I didn't feel like calling information and dealing with the communication problems I invariably encounter when I try to talk to anyone on the phone here), so I broke down and purchased another hour for 6 pounds ($12). Good opportunity to check email while I was at it... and write another quick post here.

***

“Whatever you do, don’t let them put you on the eighth floor,” my husband admonished me before we said our goodbyes at the airport. It turns out that the Sheraton Park Lane hotel is one of the many London locations where radiation has been detected in the wake of the real-life James Bond escapade that has been titillating the world since the death of Alexander Litvinenko last month.

He needn’t have worried. Prominently displayed at the reception desk is a notice from the hotel stating that while the hotel is operating as usual, the area on the 8^th floor that has been contaminated is currently off-limits to hotel guests. There is another notice in one of the lifts which apologizes for the fact that it no longer stops on that floor, due to “renovations” being done up there. And each day we've been here, management has slipped a similar message under our door:

"Dear Guest:

As you may have seen and heard in the media, we are continuing to assist the police and the Health Protection Agency with their investigations, and under their direction are doing all we can to help them in their enquiries.

The hotel remains functioning as normal, and the well being of our guests and associates continues to be our prime focus at this time.

The Health Protection Agency has also monitored the key public areas of the Sheraton Park Lane Hotel and they have confirmed that there is no risk to public health in those areas.

On Thursday November 30th, Scotlant Yard confirmed that traces of radioactive material had been detected in the hotel. The rooms concerned are isolated, and are located in a small area on the 8th floor, which is under the control of the Health Protection Agency. They have stated that the risk of contanimation is minimal, hence why the hotel remains open and functioning as normal.

This investigation may take some time to complete and we apologise for any inconvenience that may have been caused to you during your stay."

There has been a noticeable police presence here, and last night we shared a lift with a couple of "coppers." Naturally, they were headed to the 8th floor.

As we learned in New York, $400 per night doesn't necessarily buy you the highest quality room in a city where tourism and business are booming. And since we actually have acquired this room with our American Express points, I have no complaints -- we are only paying for our tax and incidentals. We’re on the third floor, in a stuffy room overlooking an alley. The furnishings are kind of shabby, and the bathroom is small and narrow. But the king sized bed and luxurious linens are amazingly comfy. After the negligible sleep we managed on the flight over here, Megan and I were very appreciative of that bed. By 11:00, we were both asleep.

And by 2:30 a.m., I was awake. After all, it was just 6:30 p.m. in California. After thirty minutes of trying to get back to sleep, I realized it just wasn’t going to happen. As I didn’t want to disturb Megan, who was snoring happily beside me, I grabbed as much reading material as I could find and moved into the bathroom.

Ninety minutes later, I’d finished going through the small London guide I’d brought from the states, the hotel services book, the room service menu, and the TV guide. I learned that this hotel caters to International business guests, that there is 24-hour room service.

Megan awoke with old croupy cough. “You were smart to bring my inhaler,” she wheezed. Yeah. How old is she now – 10? So it’s taken me a decade to figure out that when traveling, I need to bring anything there’s any possibility she’d need. If only I'd thought to bring everything I needed.

We were both hungry, and even though the cost of room service is mind boggling (an a la carte omelet is 10 pounds – which translates to $20), we decided to order. After all, NOTHING is open this time of morning. And after all, the room itself was free.

So I dialed room service at and discovered that while it is possible to have food delivered to your room at any time of day, you can’t necessarily have breakfast before the breakfast chef has reported to work. The bacon and eggs we were craving were not available for another couple of hours. We were offered a nice continental breakfast, and we took it. One minute later, room service called us back – the pastries included in the continental were not due to be delivered to the kitchen for another hour.

“Would you like a fruit salad?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said.

“How about some yogurt?”

“That would be fine,” I said.

Fifteen minutes later, our waiter arrived with a tray laden with a huge fruit salad, four rounds of toasts, a beautiful assortment of jam, orange juice, coffee and yogurt.

“The breakfast is complimentary because we didn’t have any of the items you wanted,” he told me.

So I cannot complain about the service.

**

More on London tomorrow, when I'll be using the familiar, FAST T-Mobile service at the Cardiff Starbucks...