From Backroads to Broadway

Day 1, June 28, London

Ron and I arrived at Heathrow around 9:00 a.m. and were picked up by the car service and taken to Holiday Inn Regent’s Park. After dropping off our luggage at the front desk, we took off for Camden, a trendy area near our hotel. If you’re familiar with Dallas, it’s a sort of gentrified Deep Ellum with canals — hip, eclectic, seedy and a little rough, with expensive shops next to market stalls and typical souvenir stands. We had lunch at an outdoor food market. I’m not particularly fond of hot dogs, but for some reason craved one; I should have followed my first instinct, as it was terrible, but I ate enough of it to ward off hunger pains. We wandered around the area to stay awake as long as possible and deal with the unseasonable heat — it was almost like being in Dallas. After a while, we returned to the hotel, checked in, and napped under the air conditioning before re-emerging to walk through Regent’s Park (beautiful) and climb to the top of Primrose Hill to view London at (or near) sundown. We weren’t the only people with that idea, but the crowds weren’t terrible, so we took in the view, the made our way back to the hotel for a good night’s sleep.

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Let The Chaos Commence!

I’ve seen Kirk silently judging me with every trip we’ve gone on. Over the years I WANT to say I’ve gotten better at packing for our little “getaways”. But about halfway through another round of hanging each outfit around the spindles of our circular staircase, taking pics of each selection and carefully inserting each ensemble into my itinerary as a way to remember what I have planned to wear —accounting for time of day as well as the weather — I can sense him watching me over the top of his iPad sitting across the room, on the sofa pretending to download shows for the flight.

NO! I’m not crazy! I’m just very meticulous*.

*Oh, I know there’s another name for it but I’m just not willing to go there just yet. Besides, I’ve gotta save SOMETHING for the trip!

Eventually, our luggage is zipped, bound, and ready for adventure. Realizing I hadn’t left any room for souvenirs, I began strategizing which articles of clothing were going to be abandoned in London. Trust me. The hotel cleaning people must have thought we were swine by the time we left each hotel, leaving behind a trail of Fruit of the Loom that would serve a brigade of lumberjacks……oh shoot! Kirk asked me not to “over share” on this trip!

Running Amok At The Market

Always the struggle, our air travel to London was pretty easy on our way across the pond. Our flight went well and we had no delays leaving DFW. While the food was (what it was), I was able to identify the bits and bobs without questioning if it just tasted “like” chicken. I would say the bursar for our flight was a unique fella; during his introduction to the flight and crew, he was very quick-witted and charming in his instructions. Both of us noticed his different approach, cooing and clapping in chorus at his command.

One of the most random “nice guy” acts happened while everyone was boarding our flight. As one of our attendants was visiting with us about our plans, a gentleman politely interrupted her, giving her a large clear tin of delectable chocolates. He said he was a former employee of American Airlines and he always tries to give tokens of appreciation with every flight he now takes. Our attendant was definitely caught off guard but was equally delighted to share with her peers during our flight. It was very sweet on many levels!

Remembering our first experience at Heathrow, I always dread the passport control, baggage claim, and doing the transport tango but this time things went as smooth as possible all things considered…..like the struggle I faced trying to communicate with the strapping passport control officer after he called me over to verify my information. Standing there fumbling with my passport as I handed it to him, I realized that since that picture was taken my chin hair had disappeared and my eyebrows had grown back in.

Awkwardly asking him to repeat himself while we spoke through the thick plexiglass, I knew we were speaking the same language but his accent was so thick, and his voice was so deep and rich with just the right amount of (oops! I got caught up in the moment again…!). Complying with his every word, I stopped talking and jostled my way past his desk. MOSTLY because I saw Kirk on the other side giving me Look # 1 (on this trip).

After a quick stop at the luggage carousel, all we had left to do was find our driver. Our airport adventure at an end, we were on our way way earlier than expected. Now I’m a huge fan of arriving early* — some might say slightly “obsessed”. BUT, today we learned that there is such a thing as too early!

*Back in the day, as seventh graders, me and another classmate were left behind by our band director because we weren’t on time for the bus. Choosing to make an example of us, we were stranded two cities away from our destination. With eternal gratefulness, I appreciate that Mrs. Sue McDaniel came to our rescue that day, finding me and Terry sitting on the curb like abandoned kittens! While following our marching plan, we were able to see and do most the fun bits we had planned, ending up walking back to the hotel like the Energizer bunny after it had been left turned on for three months.

Okay. Okay! Okay!! Back on topic.

One of our first places to experience was Camden Market. As a couple of crotchety old coots, we muddled through this cheeky section of town. Not realizing the actual size of the market when we arrived, we wandered through the market and food stalls, following the scent of mouthwatering foods until we each landed at booths to satisfy (both) our tummies and keep us moving along — Kirk, choosing a saucy hot dog that looked like it might bite back (I gladly avoided that temptation). Choosing a tandoori chicken-stuffed naan bread, I chowed down and enjoyed every bite of the savory, meaty goodness even as the grease dribbled down my arm and onto my sneakers.

We spent a bit more time at the Market, meandering through until ending up on a street, across the alley, and down the way. So turned around we were left scratching our heads and begging for directions from Google…..who had, just at that moment, decided enough was enough and chose to take a vacation from our vacation.

This is where we went on a very bizarre back and forth trek as we counted down to check-in time.

Having booked a hotel near Regent’s Park, we knew we would have plenty of opportunities to explore the park throughout our stay. What we didn’t count on was covering two-thirds of the park in a back-and-forth haze as we looked for things to keep us 1) entertained; 2) interested; and, most importantly, 3) upright and moving. Both Kirk and I were so tuckered out that when we did eventually get into our room, we laid down for a recharge; were it not for our predetermined strategy, we would’ve called it a day or possibly even a night.

According to Citymapper, the restaurant for dinner was sort of on the way to the hill, had good ratings, and should satisfy our desire for red meat. While we walked, I kept looking at our endpoint and thought it looked familiar. Quietly cursing beneath my breath, we walked right back into the chaos we had left earlier in the day. Yep! We were smack-dab back in Camden Market! Argh indeed!

Eventually we took to the streets again agreeing to grab a bite at Honest Burger on our way to Primrose Hill.

Hoping to keep Kirk too busy to notice the mistake, I immediately launched a barrage of “Look over there!” shouts accompanying a frenetic flurry of finger pointing! At least it WAS worth trying….

So, Honest Burger itself was very pub-style, VERY busy, and way too hip for me, but the burgers were amazing and we were served the reminder that chips AREN’T chips, they’re CHIPS!

Good Lord help me! This is going to be a long vacation!

As for the hill — well, it was a THING! Being unsure on why it’s such a popular thing to do, we could hear small crowds of friends and families sharing some Saturday fun times before we were even on the grounds. Determined to make it to the top, we kept moving along while trying not to look like a couple of tourists amidst the locals, but our huffing and puffing quickly gave us away. Eventually we made it to the top, only stopping once to catch our breath and ask each other if we REALLY needed to go all the way up? We considered having ourselves photoshopped…..but success was our friend as we traipsed resolutely to the top. Winded? Yes. But very happy to have done it. The view from the top of the hill is pretty (freaking) amazing to see!

Thank you for being so willing to take this little challenge head on, honey!!!!

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Day 2, June 29, London

Our main goal: Sunday roast. After fighting the crowds and the heat in Piccadilly for a while, we popped over to Hawksmoor Air Street earlier than our reservation to see if we could be accommodated. The answer was a definite “yes” and our response was “Thank God.” Cosmina, our server, brought us menus and we ordered drinks (the food menu earned a casual glance because we KNEW we wanted Sunday roast). Our food order was served about 15 minutes later, and I almost fell out of my chair: two slices of rare roast beef, roasted potatoes, glazed carrots, Yorkshire pudding, horseradish sauce, and a side dish of cauliflower cheese were placed before us. Mom made a mean Sunday pot roast, but the Hawksmoor offering was out of this world. The roast was perfectly cooked, the roasted potatoes were delicious, the carrots were outstanding, and the Yorkshire pudding was light and airy. Afterwards, we opted for dessert and had a sticky toffee sundae and a strawberry and black sesame pavlova.

How do you recover from such a meal? Shopping, of course. We headed to Carnaby Street in search of the London version of the Swatch destination watch, which is themed to match each city where Swatch has a storefront. The watch can’t be purchased online — only at the store. We entered the store and saw it on the wall: an all-white watch with an image of Queen Elizabeth II on the face, in her “uniform”: a coatdress and hat, sensible shoes, a purse, and a Corgi at her feet, and doing the Queen wave. The most unique characteristic of the watch is that her outfit changes colors after midnight; thus far, we’ve seen green, blue, and red. I added a blue ombré band for contrast and immediately started wearing it.

I decided I needed a new pair of cargo pants or a pair of shorts, so Ron and I went in search of our prey. After several failed attempts, we each found a cute pair of shorts at the Levi’s store — red for him, blue and green paisley for me. We then made our way to a pub called Shakespeare’s Head to wait on our friends Gary and Jim, who were on their way to meet us for an adult beverage.

While waiting for them, we struck up a chat with Tracy, a business owner from Australia, and her cousin Lara, who lives in London and works as a nanny. They asked Ron to take a photo of them in front of the pub for an aunt/cousin who once lived in London and frequented that particular pub. After the photo shoot, we had a lively conversation with them and their charming Australian accents on a wide range of topics, including family, fun, work, and the weather (and how neither Tracy or me look our age!). Gary arrived first from a rehearsal for the London Gay Men’s Chorus and led us to The Duke of Wellington, a nearby pub, where Jim soon joined us; we had a drink and socialized with them and some of Gary’s friends from the chorus. All in all, a long, hot, successful day!

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A Roast To Remember

On our first trip to London, we stayed a stone’s throw from the British Museum. We were so close by that we could practically smell the frankincense and myrrh resin from our hotel. Unfortunately, we never were able to find a good time to slide in for a gander. On this visit we were 100% committed (something that should’ve been done years ago, no doubt) to take a tour.

Having our tickets in hand and buoyed by a full English breakfast courtesy of the Salt and Pepper (Café), we joined tour guide Jamie on an adventure through this massive museum. While walking through the diverse artifacts and remains, our tour not only addressed the history of several key items on exhibit but the often-times controversial circumstances pertaining to their existence in the museum. I think I was most surprised by the mysterious Rosetta Stone. I could have spent more time hearing more about its history but much like this entry, I must move along.

Our tour guide conscientiously walked us through The Enlightenment Gallery. As we walked along, listening to the story of Sir Hans Sloane’s collection, the room fell quiet except for the polite whispers of small groups discussing the importance of different items they were so intimately drawn to.

All in all, we followed our tour guide around for two hours through the Benin Brass Castings space and eventually a monstrous mummies exhibition where the process was put on full display in grotesque fashion. Although I refused to spend more than a minute in this exhibit, I blamed it on the crowd and sweltering heat in the exhibit and NOT because I’m a scaredy cat!

Okay, so our day went a bit off the rails toward the end of our tour. I guess (it) happens. So our plans altered a bit. I was fine with it. No. Really. I WAS FINE WITH IT!!

Regardless. The one thing that wasn’t going to change was having our FIRST EVER Sunday roast!

When I think of a Sunday roast I think of my mom’s roast. She would always set it in the oven and let it cook away while we were at church. By the time we’d get home, we would walk into our tiny home excited and famished for the meal to come! Her roast beef with carrots and potatoes were always a hit. There were always fresh “wampum” biscuits handy for soppin’ up any leftover gravy. All that said….the folks at Hawksmoor Air Street would’ve caught my mom sneaking into their kitchen trying to steal their recipes to take home as souvenirs!

Cosmina, our server, was A-MA-ZING at guiding us through this meal. I took every one of her suggestions and she didn’t steer me wrong in the least! She was also wonderfully cheerful and willing to laugh at my silly outbursts of excitement. Thanks to the amazing service and atmosphere at The Hawksmoor Air Street, we enjoyed the treats, the trimmings, and some well-deserved dessert before waddling out happy as a couple of candymakers!

Promising myself I wouldn’t overindulge after an amazing meal chock full of deliciousness, including my first ever Yorkshire pudding, I was three spoonfuls into the pavlova when the sticky toffee pudding arrived. Manohmanohman am I glad I had a sensible Diet Coke with my meal! (DON’T judge me!!).

As our plans evolved (see, I AM willing to adapt), we ended up in the Carnaby Street area. We have been this way before and wanted to make a quick revisit. Kirk was hunting for ANOTHER London Swatch destination watch, and I was happy to work this side adventure into our day. It was just around the corner from Hawksmoor so it was only a coincidence — HONESTLY!

Later in the day, because it had been (like) forever since the last time we got to see our friends Gary and Jim, we were completely tickled to have the chance to say howdy toward the end of our day. These guys absolutely are part of the reason we love coming over to this side of the world. With our briefest chance to catch up with them, we met up for a quick drink and a catch-up chat. We didn’t have much time to stay, but hugging their necks we look forward to spending more time with them when we return to London in a few days!

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Day 3, June 30, London

The event I’ve waited on for years: Centre Court tickets for The Championships, Wimbledon, with the grass, the atmosphere, the crowds, the strawberries and cream. We took an Uber to a charming café in the Wimbledon area and had breakfast, then walked to the All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club; we entered the queue at our chosen gate to wait for the grounds to open. Ron snagged a place in line for us while I stood in the shade and enjoyed a lovely chat with Katherine, a mum-to-be (her husband Frasier was just behind Ron).

We entered the grounds just after 10:00 a.m., made a quick stop at the gift shop for caps, then visited the ticket office to get physical tickets (for easier re-entry into Centre Court) before making our way to Court 12 to watch some of Frances Tiafoe’s first-round match. After watching him jump out to a 5-2 lead in the first set, we left to grab lunch before entering Centre Court.

As I had hoped, the opening match on Centre Court was 2-time defending champion Carlos Alcaraz (my favorite player) against Fabio Fognini, a crafty Italian veteran. Fabio has won a handful of tournaments in his career, mostly on clay; at 38, his best days are behind him. On this day, however, he turned back the clock and played a brilliant tactical match against Carlos, using slices, a deceptively tough serve, and an attacking style that, in combination with Carlos’ inconsistent play, took the match to a fifth set.

By that time, however, Carlos — 16 years younger than Fabio — was still pretty fresh and Fabio was spent, and Carlos won 7-5, 6-7, 7-5, 2-6, 6-1 in 4 ½ hours (including a 20-minute break at 3-0 in the fifth when medics had to tend to a spectator who fainted due to the heat). After the match, they embraced at the net, and Carlos honored Fabio by leading the applause after they made their way to the sideline. It wasn’t until after the match that it was announced that 2025 was Fabio’s last Wimbledon; indeed, he formally retired two days later. What a way to go out!

There were two more matches on Centre Court: ninth-seeded Paula Badosa of Spain vs. British #1 Katie Boulter, then third-seeded Alexander Zverev of Germany vs. France’s Arthur Rinderknech. We had a long travel day ahead of us, so we left the grounds, walked to a shared transportation stand, and took a cab back to the hotel. Good thing we did: Boulter upset Badosa in three sets, then Zverev and Rinderknech split the first two sets before play was halted for the day; the Frenchmen won in five sets when play resumed on Tuesday.

It would have been great to stay the entire day, but we would have been exhausted on Tuesday, so…..that’s fine. I saw my favorite player win at my favorite tournament with excellent seats, so I left the grounds a happy man!

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For The Love Of The Game

So, when you’re in a relationship with someone that is into something that you aren’t really all that into but you don’t want to let them know you’re NOT THAT into ALL THAT, the question becomes “What do you do?”

That said, I was a little surprised when Kirk and I started dating to learn that he likes tennis. Scratch that…..LOVES tennis. It’s cute. When I catch him watching some random match on TV, it’s easy enough to breeze through, ask who is playing, and casually nod as he breaks down the match, the players involved, their current stats, and at least one additional morsel of knowledge before I finally smile back and encourage him to enjoy.

While I’m happy to go to Wimbledon today, he is positively over the moon with excitement!

Now, before we got into the club we wanted a bit of a breakfast bite. Finding the Drop Shot Café via Google, we were happy to check out a local eatery that may be small in scale but the service was great and the food was absolutely top-notch!

Following breakfast, the walk to the All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club was more of a hike than Google suggested. It WAS fun, though — walking our breakfast off and constantly reassuring each other that Wimbledon was “right around the corner”.

We arrived a bit early and Kirk began making new friends within seconds of us locating a spot within the quickly lengthening queue. While chatting with newly discovered playmates, the queue began growing behind us like an invading horde of well-behaved and orderly miscreants waiting for their chance to grow rowdy enough from (the) drink to create a posh mosh (pit) and yet polite enough to apologize for stomping on someone’s toe! All in all, we fit in just fine!

At the end of the day, I would say Wimbledon isn’t just another tennis tournament — it’s definitely an EXPERIENCE. I will always appreciate this experience not just because of the awesome match play; the environment surrounding the stadium — including the services and kindness of strangers — is something that impressed me even beyond the play on the court!

I would, however, suggest adding T-shirt canons, scantily clad cheerleaders, and vendors shouting “hot dogs!” as they walk up and down the aisle. You know, if they really want this sport to take off and be more popular!***

***Please know I am pulling whichever limb is culturally appropriate for pulling (in jest)! My vote is to leave it exactly the way it is. Tennis is, after all, an amazing sport to play and equally fun to watch (in person)!

Please be advised at this point, any and all play by play details are in Kirk’s section.

As for other tidbits from the matches, the clever choreography on display by the ball boys and girls was amazing; I’ll admit to have been very stricken by their ability to retrieve, dispense, and otherwise dispose of the multitude of balls like life-sized Pez dispensers! Very kick-ball-change and all that jazz sort of stuff, ya know!?!

By the end of the day, we hadn’t been kissed by the sun, we had been slowly dry roasted like the nuts we are. That said, we happily recommend this adventure to anyone who has even the slightest interest in attending this sort of event. So, the next time I’m passing through the living room and Kirk has the Tennis Channel on, I might question who he is watching but at least I don’t need to ask “Why?”

*I would add a note of appreciation for our friend Mary Ryder, who gave us some incredible clues for making the most of our day!

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Day 4, July 1, London/Edinburgh

We took an Uber to King’s Cross to catch our LNER train to Edinburgh. I was eager to sit back and let someone else drive, so for the next few hours I gazed out the window at the lush English countryside. We came close enough to the coastline to catch glimpses of the North Sea, so I started snapping away — and didn’t realize that I captured a windsurfer in mid-flight. We arrived at Waverley Station in Edinburgh and dropped off our bags at The Scotsman Hotel for storage (we were staying their upon our return from the Highlands/Isle of Skye tour, and they agreed to store our bags); we then made our way to The Grassmarket Hotel (a sister property of The Scotsman), where we were going to stay that night.

After checking in to our room and having an early dinner at Burgers and Beer, we headed to Gordon Nicolson Kiltmaker, where staff member/Scottish lass Ruby informed Ron and I that my Kirkland family name (Mom’s maiden name) rests under the Maxwell clan. Ruby was funny and charming. I said that Kirkland was likely the only name in my heritage that had a possible trace of Scottish blood; when I listed other family names (i.e., Johnston, Jones, and Taylor), she sniffed disdainfully and muttered “English.”

After perusing the shop’s wares, I followed Ron’s advice and ordered an infinity scarf with the ancient Maxwell tartan on one side and the current tartan on the other — can’t wait for cold weather so that I can wear it!

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Storming Into Edinburgh

Knowing we would be somewhere for some amount of time is one thing. REALIZING that our temporary habitat reassignment is happening today (and) suddenly repacking all our things to accommodate all the other things I thought I needed was just an additional thing to have to think about! As my co-workers know, my deepest thoughts are mostly regarding how many of each color are in my pack of peanut M&Ms!

So by the time Kirk had (had) about enough of my constant unpacking, repacking, and the subsequent confusion it all created, and a final eyes-closed heave-ho into the nearest suitcase, we were finally on our way to the train station. Destination: Edinburgh, Scotland!

Over the years, Kirk has come to understand (most of) my “issues” especially when dealing with motion sickness. While we were on the train, with Kirk enjoying the view from his window as the lovely countryside passed by, I pretended to shut out the world — thanks in no small part to my headphones and the electronic sounds of a very chill “Daily Mix” on Spotify featuring artists such as Vacatia, Jamania, and more. This mix really does help soften my edge and squelch my urge to scream at the parents who can’t keep their child from kicking the back of my seat…..tick tock, tick tock.

Eventually we strolled off the train, tripped over our luggage as we stepped onto the landing, and realized we would be climbing up two flights of stairs to get to street level. Y’all should know, we don’t pack lightly. So…toting two big bags stuffed to the point of the zippers beginning to slowly surrender to the pressure, we cussed under our breath with each step until we made it to the street.

Spotting the hotel where we were planning to store our luggage for the next few days, we looked for an entrance. Good-naturedly, a local pointed back in the direction we had come from saying something about “over there”. When I realized I had trapped us in a never-ending climb up another four flights of stairs, I tried to stay focused on taking it a step at a time instead of the thundering sound of my heart beating in my ears. We finally made it; the hotel staff was really sweet, apologetic even, when they saw us stumble through the door dragging our bags behind like a couple of street urchins.

It was funny to think back and remember how FLAT things looked in the pictures I had seen of Edinburgh while we were planning this trip. What was not funny was when we left The Scotsman and turned the corner to begin our walk up to the hotel where we were staying the night.

We realized by the third turn, after manhandling our final piece of luggage across the cobbled street, we might have misunderstood “the assignment”. I will say, though, given the distance covered, the degree of incline/decline, and overall “surprise” factor, I was happy that we made it to The Grassmarket Hotel with only a brief stop along the way to catch our breath. GREAT JOB, HONEY!!!

Checking into the hotel was a breeze! Having already reorganized our evening, we were in a bit of a rush to make it to the Gordon Nicholson Kiltmakers for a special errand for Kirk. I won’t rain on that parade. However I’m beyond happy to have tagged along and encourage his behavior!!

The rest of the evening was much less dramatic.