And this is the only thing that is quick, darlin'. Everyone really does say "good mornin'" and "how ya'all doin," the rum butter bread pudding at the Napoleon House is like heaven melting in your mouth, and Italianate is my new favorite architectural style. N'awlins is everything I thought it would be and more.
What I've been up to lately:
* Seeing Aviv Geffen with special guest Steven Wilson at Bush Hall
* Having my first bacon roll (at Honest Sausage in Regent's Park)
* Walking around Fleet Street (see Twinings pic above)
* Exploring the Wallace Collection and having tea on monogrammed plates in their gorgeous courtyard
* Taking a Robert Burns day tour of the Kenwood House in Hampstead Heath and then having tea and a read at the Spanish Inn (pic of G. above)
* Seeing U2 cover band Achtung Baby
* Visiting Dulwich Picture Gallery for the "Age of Enchantment" exhibit featuring Aubrey Beardsley and contemporaries and as a bonus getting to see one of Joshua Reynolds two portraits of Sarah Siddons as The Tragic Muse (the other is at the Huntington in Pasadena)
If someone asked me to dream up my vision of the perfect beauty salon, it would look exact like Taylor Taylor near Spitalfields Market in London. From the wrought iron birdcage with its sweetly chirping occupants to my very own mismatched china tea service, the vibe was Miss Havisham meets (insert your favorite Lawrence Alma-Tadema painting here). The ultra-luxe shampoo room is actually a candlelit gold mosaic cavern. Yes, please! (The pix of the salon weren't taken by me--to see more, head here.) Thanks to stylist Siobhan Benson for the fringe (pictured above). 
Last night we had a nightcap with the ghosts of murdered highwaymen at the Spaniard's Inn (former haunt of Charles Dickens and Keats), while earlier that day we wandered around Hyde Park, snapping photos of the Italian Gardens and snacking on lemon cake (G: "Hawaii called. They want their sugar plantations back.") and hot chocolate (above) at the Lido.
I was sitting in a tiny used book store in Mendocino skimming "Comfort Me with Apples," when Gavin came in to drag me off on a surprise "adventure." I quickly bought a bedraggled copy of Henry James's "A London Life & The Reverberator" for $4 and, with a reluctant glance over my shoulder at the cozy room we left behind, followed him out the door. I could happily spend the entire weekend sedentary, reading fireside in The Mendocino Hotel's haunted Victorian parlor, but I knew I needed some fresh air--and a little exercise wouldn't hurt either.
When we arrived at Catch a Canoe & Bicycles Too, well, I had a pretty good idea what we were in for. I flashbacked to the time I'd been in a plastic canoe off one of the Virgin Islands desperately paddling to get back to shore. A shore which was like the receding end of the hallway in "Poltergeist." But when I saw the outrigger canoes, I felt a stirring in my genes. These things were hand-carved and stunningly gorgeous. I knew instantly that I was going to love this.
After donning our life vests, in we gingerly stepped. I sat in front and we began to paddle up the river away from the ocean. Sunlight shown through the forest and the only moving things in sight were ducks and an adorable otter. At first it brought to mind the fleeing Huguenots who'd escaped to the New World in Arthur Conan Doyle's "The Refugees." I mentioned to Gavin how much I was enjoying the actual effort involved, that there was something so "zen" about pushing forward in this wooden canoe. He jokingly reminded me that I have a little American Indian in me. Ah ha, I thought, that just might be why I'm taking to it! Then I began to imagine I was a native American paddling stealthily up the Chesapeake. Honestly, I have no actual proof beyond word of mouth that my grandfather's grandfather was really married to a Cherokee princess--and even if I do have any native American blood in me, I don't know that those ancestors ever traveled by canoe. But I do know that it was one of those rare moments where I was in the right place at the right time.
I'm looking into all the ways that I work internationally while making contact as seamless as possible for my employers and as inexpensive as possible for myself. While I mainly communicate via email anyway, I'll still need to have other options. I already have an efax account and I'll use skype to make outgoing calls when I'm at home. I'm planning to set up a virtual phone number (that will forward calls to my UK number) and virtual mailing address (that will scan my snail mail and send it to me via email) here in the US. I'm also going to purchase a Blackberry once I arrive in London--from what I understand I should be able to use it in anywhere in the UK and Europe. I'd so appreciate any advice/tips on all this. Thank you!
Back from Hawaii and I'm finally ready to share some big news: G. and I are moving to London next month! This is something I've wanted to for as far back as I can remember. I was bitten by the travel bug in the first grade when my family moved to Germany for three years and my obsession with all things anglophilic has been well documented on this blog and on Romancing the Tome. Thanks to the internet (and my supportive employers), I'll be able to keep my job and travel the globe. I'm looking forward to sharing all my adventures with the UK as my new home base.... for now! I moved back to San Francisco three years ago from L.A. and it's been an incredible three years: From living with my sister (who's moving to Brighton, England in January) for a year and getting to spend lots of quality time with Nicki and Lily to meeting my boyfriend and celebrating my sister's wedding, there have been so many milestones (and challenges). But I'm eager to set off on this new adventure! More later...
Nicki sent me this link to an offer by Stash Tea. Get a free night when you book a second night at any of the romantic B&Bs listed in their guide. (You'll also need to collect three proofs of purchase.) Details here.
Because I lack even some of the most basic skills and general accoutrements of the well-traveled person, I feel I would be a real fraud if I called myself a jetsetter. Even though I've logged my share of miles flying between San Francisco and Los Angeles at least once a month for over two years--and that's not counting the stateside and International travel of the vacation variety--I'm still a messy, disorganized, exceedingly non-glamorous traveler, a regular Julia Larwood* of the friendly skies. I always get to the airport with barely a second to spare, dragging along multiple bags in various shapes, colors, and states of disrepair. If anything I look more like a bag lady than a world traveler. But this month something exciting is happening. I'm flying down to LAX on Virgin America instead of Southwest and I'll be writing an article on the experience. Virgin is ushering in a new era of domestic travel and, if not quite a return to the glamorous heyday of flight, at least they'll actually be serving something besides peanuts (and that's just one of many fine amenities). So in advance of this assignment, I'm going to try and morph into the great traveler I know I can be. Hey, maybe I'll even spring for a new suitcase and matching carry-on. We'll see...
*Sarah Cauldwell wrote four clever mysteries narrated by the ambiguous Professor Hilary Tamar. Julia Larwood is one of her characters.
Gavin and I are headed up to gold country for a little r&r this holiday weekend. In my luggage, along with the necessary staples, I've packed:
Min Jin Lee's Free Food for Millionaires
Julian Fellowes' Snobs
J. Sheridan Le Fanu's The Wyvern Mystery
Chekhov's Longer Stories from the Last Decade
a Kimono-sleeved dress for lounging during the day
Have a lovely 4th of July!
The only sure way I've found to survive economy class flying is to supplement travel with the right books and, naturally, the perfect tempting sweet treats for mid-air mini-snack breaks.
For this trip I had of course already read half of the books that I planned to take in the days leading up to my vacation, so remaining with me for the first leg of the trip were Alain de Botton's charming The Art of Travel and Rachel Cusk's The Country Life. Both were quaint and wonderful. (Nicki and my sister had both raved about The Country Life so I had very high expectations.) While awaiting the final boarding call (why do people queue to get on when we all have assigned seats?), I purchased Turkish Dried Apricots and a small beribboned brown box of Godiva truffles. Nothing is better than untying the bow on a box of fine chocolates when you could be eating a handful of peanuts.
For the journey home--when I wasn't dreaming of the picturesque canal view from the Pensione Seguso--I finished Henry James' The Aspern Papers, a thrilling mystery set in Venice, and started David Mitchell's Black Swan Green. I munched on Candied Ginger (I'd read it was a cure for nausea) and Edmund's Achilles heel, rose-flavored Turkish Delight, purchased en route to the airport via Victoria Station.
More on the middle part later.
