Walking Around in London's Skin

Our small family of three headed to church this morning…I mean family brunch—no offense to my religious friends—at Tom’s Kitchen, the restaurant we discovered last year thanks to my foodie friend Maren’s glowing recommendation. Although Ellie expected the same goodie bag she received there last Tuesday night, she didn’t seem too upset when they’d run out after a busy weekend. Fortunately, I had packed a few essential toys, including a couple of mini princesses and dinosaurs, which entertained her while we planned the rest of our day on the back of another receipt. Is this hopelessly Type A lady turning laid back? My big sister would be proud.

I sampled Todd’s traditional with a twist beans on toast and took a big gulp of Ellie’s smoothie to wash down the acidic taste. Todd shrugged and pulled his plate closer, knowing he didn’t have to share his breakfast bounty. Next to us, a group of friends celebrated an engagement while families with children dominated the early reservations slots. Overly satiated from Ellie’s thick blueberry pancake and my brioche French toast served with whipped cinnamon cream, we headed toward Westminster to continue Ellie’s Salvatore Rubbino’s Walk in London tour. We ascended the stairs with Big Ben coming into view, and Ellie greeted the iconic structure like a long lost friend thanks to another gem from children’s literature. After a quick walk around Westminster, we hopped back on the Tube toward the Tower of London to see some bling…I mean the crown jewels.

Ellie squealed when she saw the Beefeaters and pointed out “The Big Pickle,” both familiar from her London books. The Yeoman Warder approached her, and Ellie took refuge in her daddy’s protective embrace. We entered the queue for the jewel house with Ellie clutching her guide and ready “to make a match” with the photos. We took a couple of spins on the moving walkway to see the priceless, bejeweled crowns then explored a bit before heading across Tower Bridge toward another personal favorite museum, Tate Modern. I paid a quick homage to Billy Shakes—and blew a kiss for my friend Lee—at the reconstructed Globe Theater before entering the big turbine hall at Tate Modern. Ellie begged to run up and down with the big kids. Sans pink cast this year, I confidently let her go and watched her giggle and sprint from a safe distance. I reflected a bit on all the changes since our visit exactly a year ago and felt a little wistful…kind of like I do on her birthday each year.

We headed upstairs to the exhibits and stopped at the Picassos for Ellie to make more matches then weaved our way through another floor or two. Ellie caught sight of the play area and led the way, darting straight for the slide. I still can’t watch her slide down without wincing a teeny bit and thinking of the big pink cast. Todd and I took an interactive quiz on Pop Art, while Ellie punched lots of buttons and ruined our perfect score. Finished with our Tate visit, we headed toward the dock and hopped aboard a Thames riverboat.

We originally planned on taking the Tate Modern to Tate Britain option, but sadly we didn’t have time to visit Ophelia and The Lady of Shalott with Sunday closing time approaching. Instead, we opted for a different boat that took us back to our day’s starting point in Westminster. The three of us snuggled close to warm ourselves from the gusty winds and enjoyed the Tower of London, Tower Bridge, St. Pauls’s Cathedral, Shakespeare’s Globe Theater, and other sights from a different perspective. I felt a little like Scout Finch, standing on Boo Radley’s porch, as I watched this beloved city from another point of view and wondered when I’d see it again.

Ellie passed out in her new urban friendly Maclaren Techno XT (still cursing the Bee’s tragic flaw though), and we adeptly lifted her into a cab back headed toward Knightsbridge. I heart London cabs, especially with young children in tow. We easily wheeled her on board then let sleeping preschooler lie while the seasoned driver safely navigated London’s circuitous streets and deposited us at Harrods for a quick gift-buying stop. With Ellie still sleeping soundly, we took a peek at Harvey Nichols then walked down Brompton Road back toward our temporary expatriate neighborhood and realized our time in Europe was coming to an end…sigh.

The highly rated gastropub, Cadogen Arms, appeared around the corner just as Ellie woke up and declared she needed a potty straight away. Our leisurely walk turned into a sprint with just a half block to go. I fumbled with the stroller straps, heaving Ellie onto my hip, and darted up the stairs in search of a loo. Persnickety Ellie declared it too stinky, so I handed her a scented wipe to breathe into and told her not to dawdle.  

Quirky taxidermied bunnies, foxes, and deer decorated this popular neighborhood pub, while friends, families, and couples on dates enjoyed pints and wholesome Sunday meals. Although the wine list almost eclipsed the beer menu, the traditional and weathered furnishings kept this South Kensington institution from crossing the border to pretension. Ellie’s cheese toast and peas arrived with Todd’s onion and Gruyere soup starter, and she surprisingly ate a reasonable portion of her dinner. While Todd opted for fish and chips, I ordered the Sunday special of roast chicken and vegetables and felt transported to Julia Child’s kitchen table housed at the National Museum of American History.

As we walked off our dinner and headed back to the flat, we chatted with Ellie about our memorable day and talked about our last day in London…sniff. Big surprises await her: a trip to Princess Diana’s Memorial Playground and maybe the London Zoo if weather permits. I should begin packing our bags, but I’m not ready to say goodbye just yet to two amazing weeks as temporary expatriates.

Travel Tip of the Day: I’ve reconsidered my view on the Bugaboo brand after our trusty Bee buzzed for the last time. Although the stroller is still under warranty, Bugaboo doesn’t want to fix or replace our spendy stroller. Forced to purchase a stroller for our remaining days in London, we settled on the Maclaren Techno XT. It’s been a dream to maneuver in the city with its sturdy wheels and collapsible, lightweight frame. Buying the Maclaren for much cheaper in London took a little bite out of the Bugaboo sting. Keep calm; carry on, right? 

Beep Beep...Coming Through

Early autumn rain fell, leaving a chill in the air and enticing us to indulge in a Saturday morning lie in at the flat before embarking on another day of London sightseeing. After a quick stop at Fait Maison for muffins and lattes, we walked a couple of blocks and hopped on the Tube toward Covent Garden. Crowds of tourists gathered around the street performers and musicians while Saturday morning shoppers perused the eclectic and high street shops. We navigated the disorienting crowd and felt our way toward the London Transport Museum, Ellie’s favorite stop last year.

The elevator doors opened and transported us to 19^th century London filled with horse drawn carriages and trolleys along with polished rail cars. A sooty and solid costumed interpreter greeted us with a smile. Ellie offered her hand and a faint “pleased to meet you…I’m Ellie Hughes.” Nellie told us about her job as a horse poop sweeper and showed Ellie the weathered coins she earned for her hard day’s wages. Poor Nellie’s childhood ended at five when she traded a child’s work of play for hard labor on the streets. We peered into the various coaches and rail cars, but Ellie decided to keep a safe distance from the mannequins seated inside. I don’t blame her…they looked kind of spooky to me too.

We toured the rest of this chronologically organized museum then spent about an hour on the ground floor, playing in the Tube cars and double decker busses. Ellie pretended to drive the Tube then a shiny red bus. She paraphrased a little Mo Willems and shouted, “don’t let Ellie Hughes drive the bus!” Our hungry stomachs dictated our departure and sent us searching for Belgo, the cavernous, subterranean restaurant we enjoyed last year. Todd ordered mussels with frites, and I selected chili ginger roast chicken with frites along with a rocket Parmesan salad to share. Ellie actually ate a few bites of chicken and frites then relished a petite vanilla ice cream cone.

Our grand plans of returning to the British Museum were thwarted when we realized how late it was already. We decided to shelve it for another day or trip since we had been there myriad times before. Instead, we walked off our lunch by roaming the streets surrounding Covent Garden then rode the Tube back to Kensington. Similar to our home city of Washington DC, no one bothered to offer their seat when Ellie and I, along with an elderly lady, boarded the train. Smug adolescents texted and chatted away, pretending not to notice us by drawing their hands closer almost like horse blinders. Shame on them for not remembering their manners.

I scrambled to get ready while Todd prepared Ellie’s dinner and gave her a quick rinse in the flat’s shower. Nadia, our repeat sitter from Babysitters of Kensington and Chelsea, arrived to big hugs from our best girl. We kissed Ellie goodnight then walked toward South Kensington to enjoy Saturday date night in London. Our original plans fell through, but we lucked out with a cancellation at delightful Daphne’s to sample their tasty menu’s other offerings. Since we had time to spare, we popped into Zefi’s—a stylish new Chelsea jazz/wine bar—and helped support their soft opening by enjoying a yummy cocktail and pleasant music. I couldn’t help but eavesdrop on the gaggle of young ladies sitting next to us, consoling a girlfriend’s recent break up and lifting her spirits with Sauvignon Blanc and silly self-portraits.

Todd settled our bill then we walked the half block to Daphne’s and sat by the window once again. We reflected on the past two weeks and started planning our next adventure abroad…is it really almost time to come home? The burrata served with tomatoes, prawn laced pasta, roasted pumpkin, and stuffed spinach raviolis complemented by an Italian red wine left us too full for dessert and grateful for a longish walk home. I traded my LK Bennett black patent heels for my trusty Repetto flats then slipped my hand in Todd’s to savor the last moments of our final date night in Europe.

Travel Tip of the Day: While on holiday, avoid child-centric museums on weekends if possible. The queues will be long for interactives, which can be frustrating for little ones. Also, buy and pack a dual voltage hair dryer and other tools if you need them. I splurged on a GHD flat iron (best purchase ever for these crazy locks), but I didn't pack a hair dryer since our flat advertised one. I could probably blow on my hair and dry it in the same length of time as this pathetic device. 

"Oh, Crap!"

A la Fancy Nancy, “I tripped, I slipped, and I did a double flip” right down the last few steps from our rented flat to the outside garden entrance. Thankfully, Ellie was safely tucked away from harm when I tumbled down the stairs, stroller in tow. I brushed off my pants, feeling grateful no one was injured. When I went to open our trusty Bugaboo Bee stroller, I realized the chassis was broken in two places, rendering it useless for our last four days in London. Just as I was about to burst into tears—silly, I know—Ellie put her hands on her cheeks and innocently said, “Oh, crap, Mommy. You bwoke my strow-er.” My welling tears turned to uncontrollable giggles. I should have scolded Ellie for her naughty language, but she provided the comic relief I needed during our brief Shakespearean tragedy.

I calculated our days left in London and realized there was no way we could tour the city without a proper pushchair. Sure, Ellie might be a big girl now, but this urban kiddo poops out after a few blocks and wants to hitch a ride. With “miles to go before [we] sleep” in our Arlington beds, I knew we had to bite the bullet and head to Sloane Square’s Peter Jones for a replacement straight away. My understanding and agreeing husband loaned me his Blackberry to call the store and confirm they had a Maclaren umbrella stroller in stock…identical to the one sitting in my car’s boot in Arlington. Even though the replacement stroller was cheaper in the UK, I was still annoyed at the wasted resources and inconvenience.

Considering Ellie expired and had to be carried by the time we arrived at Fait Maison for takeaway lattes, I knew our decision to purchase a new stroller was a sound one. We hopped on the Tube to Sloane Square and attempted to purchase the same Maclaren we had bought two years ago...ugh. The kind salesperson informed me they didn’t have any in stock after all and suggested we head to Oxford Street to their sister store, John Lewis. My face fell, and she sensed my disappointment even when I tried to muster a smile and thank her for her help with contacting Bugaboo to no avail. She made a quick phone call to her manager then offered to sell us a fancier Maclaren at a steep discount. I did the quick currency conversion and handed over my credit card when I realized we were getting an amazing deal for something much more expensive Stateside.  

With Ellie strapped in her new urban stroller, we headed down Kings Road to window shop and explore a few side streets. Ellie asked to pop into Trotters to see the fish and play with the toys. Across the street in the Whistles window, a bright blue shift with a pointed collar tempted this dress-loving gal. We stopped at Marks and Spencer for takeaway triangle sandwiches and Coke Lights then continued down one of London’s acclaimed shopping streets. I admired the shoes at LK Bennett then spotted a swath of pink across from Bluebird, a restaurant with an eclectic shop and epicerie. I remembered Love Bakery with its carnation pink storefront, cake pops, and whimsically decorated cupcakes. I bought three red velvet cupcake lollies to enjoy on our walk toward Brompton Road that would eventually lead us home.

We shed our bags at our temporary home on Abingdon Road and freshened up before heading around the corner to The Devonshire Arms for a Friday family dinner at the local pub. We sipped pints and noshed on edamame along with sweet potato hummus before our tempura battered fish and chips served with minty mashed peas arrived. Who said the British don’t know how to cook a decent meal? Florence and the Machine's Dog Days Are Over pulsed from the speakers, and I danced a bit in the chair with Ellie. Sure, our day’s plans were thwarted by a silly accident on the stairs. However, we “kept calm and carried on.” I wanted to freeze that little moment with my best girl swaying her head and giggling and loving London…the apple doesn’t fall far, right?

Travel Tip of the Day: Budget for unforeseen expenses. Accidents do happen. However, I’ll take a broken stroller over a robbery any day of the week…counting my blessings. 

Serendipity

With a full agenda planned, we hustled about the flat this morning and miraculously left on time sans tantrums. We caught the Tube at Earl’s Court then strolled through St. James’s Park to position ourselves for the regal Changing of the Guard Ceremony at Buckingham Palace. The sound of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” caught our attention, so we changed course and happened upon the new guard playing music and readying themselves for their scheduled procession. Ellie listened intently and mouthed the words before we navigated the thickening crowds gathering near the royal residence. We positioned ourselves just outside the gilded gates, opposite from last year’s vantage point. The uniformed officers on horseback came into sight, and Ellie gasped in awe as her storybooks came to life. She chattered away about her London books and said we were just like Katie in London and Paddington at the Palace. I spent more time studying my best girl’s happy reactions than actually watching the procession I’ve had the pleasure of viewing many times before.   

The wind picked up and pushed us through Green Park toward the Royal Academy of Fine Arts.

Thanks to an advertisement we spotted on a black cab near V&A yesterday, we serendipitously discovered the Royal Academy of Fine Arts recently opened a temporary Degas exhibit. My disappointment at missing Duchess Catherine’s resplendent wedding gown and accouterments by one day dissipated a bit when I realized Ellie would get to see more of her favorite artist. I nearly missed the beautiful building when a Neapolitan colored topiary caught my attention. Was it a mirage of Laduree macarons or the real thing? We popped inside to have a look and order a few perfectly portioned macarons. For the first time since our arrival in Europe, I actually enjoyed just one scrumptious macaron and decided to save the rest...a few remain in the fridge a day later. It’s a London miracle!

After our macaron snack and lattes, we were ready to queue for Degas and the Ballet: Picturing Movement and learn more about the development of the artist’s technique and his creative evolution. Imagine Ellie’s delight when she spotted a peach colored ribbon and the dancer who looks a “little bit tired and a little bit sad.” Ellie quickened her pace and nearly forgot her museum manners to have a closer look. She greeted “Marie” with a wave and quoted in a whisper from Degas and the Little Dancer: “I think I know her pretty well.” We explored the rest of the comprehensive exhibit and learned how early photography influenced Degas’s work.

Ellie snoozed in her stroller while Todd checked out shirts and ties on Jermyn Street. We couldn’t make a decision, so we left empty handed and walked toward Trafalgar Square to see the lions and tour the National Gallery. As we approached Lord Nelson’s Column, we roused Ellie and pulled out her Katie in London book. Ellie practically leapt out of her stroller then sprinted toward the regal lions flanking the square. Just like the book’s character Katie, she offered her blanket to keep the lion’s tummy warm on cold days and wanted to climb up for a closer look. I clambered up first then Todd lifted Ellie into my arms, and she promptly decided it was much too high for little girl barely three. She chased her shadow around the square instead then decided she was brave and wanted another go. I outsourced round two to daddy since I don’t care much for heights. This time she beamed and giggled then snuggled into her daddy’s protective arms and miraculously smiled for the camera.

As we found our way to the accessible entrance, an outdoor installation caught my attention. Upon closer inspection, I realized it was a copy of a Van Gogh painting http://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/van-gogh-painting-brought-to-life-as-living-wall­) made from plants…8000 to be exact! It was truly amazing. We checked our trusty stroller at the coat check and headed upstairs to find Rousseau’s Surprise and Van Gogh’s Sunflowers. Ellie pointed out Monet’s Water Lily Pond then smiled widely when she recognized other paintings from her books. Time ticked on, and we decided to head back toward our flat. A sudden rain shower changed our transportation plans, and we hailed a black cab to take us to our temporary home on Abingdon Road. The convivial cab driver chatted us up and offered a few tips for tourists.

Our sitter Nadia, whom I had arranged Stateside, arrived and won Ellie—and her discerning parents—over straight away. Feeling confident she was in capable and caring hands, Todd and I set out for our first date night in London. We canceled our reservation at the acclaimed Joel Rubichon in favor of Daphne’s, a recommended and cosy Italian restaurant located in Chelsea not far from our flat. With time to spare, we slipped into a wine bar for a pre-dinner cocktail and planned the rest of our London time on the back of a receipt. This type A+ gal has certainly come a long way from typed itineraries and pages of notes.

Todd and I finished our drinks—a martini for Todd and champagne for me—and walked the half block to Daphne’s with its warm, inviting glow greeting these famished travelers. The hostess seated us next to the window and presented us with menus as a waiter delivered a selection of savory breads and a carafe of water. We perused the menu and settled on small plates, including roasted pumpkin, burrata served with tomatoes and tapenade, goat cheese ravioli, and mushroom risotto. Each bite pleased the palate, almost transporting me to Italy and my first trip to Europe in 1999 as a recent college graduate. Satiated from our gustatory Italian sojourn, we decided to walk home and keep a few pounds in our pockets instead of on our waists. I traded my patent LK Bennett heels for comfy flats and enjoyed the crisp autumn air and a nice walk with my best guy.

Travel Tip of the Day: Check out children’s books related to your travels from your local library and read them prior to a trip. Thanks to books such as Katie in London, Paddington at the Palace, This is London, and A Walk in London, Ellie was familiar with the city and sights long before the Eurostar transported us from Paris to London. Books can bring art and history alive to children and make museums more accessible and interesting to them.

Our Teacup Runneth Over

I heard tiny footsteps then the bedroom doorknob turn. Ellie whispered, “Mama, can I get a cuddy, please?” Too tired to escort Ellie back to her big girl bed, I helped her settle in between Todd and me for a little peanut butter and jelly. The construction cacophony next door, which we thought we left behind in Arlington, abruptly ended our disrupted slumber. Todd and I sipped tea while Ellie ate a reasonable breakfast of Tesco Scottish pancakes before we embarked on our day’s adventures. I saw Fait Maison’s sign from around the corner and sped ahead to order a latte to go…tea just didn’t cut it after sleeping with my darling daughter’s knee shoved in my lower back. The caffeine cleared the fog in my head and set a quickened pace toward Natural History and the V&A Museum.

We queued behind a gaggle of school children dressed like Madeline, complete with hats and proper coats. Reminded of Madeline in London, I half expected Pepito and Miss Clavel to round the corner. Ellie spotted the dinosaur in the grand foyer and took off in a sprint, shouting “hooray…I found Buddy from Dinosaur Train!” Upon closer inspection, we realized it wasn’t a baby T-Rex then set out to find the real thing. The accessible and interactive dinosaur exhibit drew Ellie in with its skeletons, touchscreens, and animatronic T-Rex. Having visited the museum before, I knew the climax of the exhibit could be a bit scary for a three year old. Todd brilliantly prepped Ellie by telling her we’d be meeting Buddy’s daddy in a few minutes and not to be scared if he growled at us. Safely in her daddy’s arms, Ellie tensed up when she saw the imposing dinosaur then greeted the beast with waves and complained he was a bit grouchy.  

After a quick trip to the dinosaur shop to purchase cookie cutters for her school lunch sandwiches, we roamed through the mammal hall and viewed the scores of “stuffed” animals on display. I jumped back when I spotted a real giant armadillo. During my one and only camping trip (in our Texas backyard 30+ years ago), I bailed on my older sister after an hour when my Dad—aka the Colonel—told us to be careful of the giant armadillos. I guess he wasn’t telling stories after all. In any case, I’ll stick to apartment rentals and hotels and skip the campgrounds…

The three of us walked a few hundred yards to Victoria & Albert, one of my favorite museums, to check out the postmodern temporary exhibition along with Tipu’s Tiger organ, The Great Bed of Ware, and other decorative arts. We stumbled upon the room filled with Raphael paintings and discovered a huge carpeted area designed for lounging and viewing the art from a different perspective. Scores of students sprawled about and filled out graphic organizers assigned by their teachers. Ellie, on the other hand, rolled around then cozied up for a nap. We strapped her in the stroller and wheeled about, letting the quiet galleries filled with beautiful objects lull her to sleep. Todd and I headed to the courtyard to order lattes and relax for a bit before walking home and freshening up for fancy high tea at Claridges.

After a quick costume change, we hailed a cab and rushed toward Mayfair for our 5:30 pm sharp reservation. Ellie smoothed out her fancy dress in the taxi and straightened up when I told her we’d be celebrating her birthday at tea today. Yes, our sweet girl turned three a month ago, but today’s treat was her birthday present from us. With eyes wide open, she clapped her hands and giggled in delight. The refined host greeted us warmly, and Ellie offered her small hand with a faint “pleased to meet you.” Our table, perfectly set with Tiffany blue and crisp white china, offered a prime view for people watching in the luxurious hotel. The first course of savory finger sandwiches arrived, and I deftly swapped out Ellie’s with the PB&J triangles I had packed. Our high tea swiftly turned to low tea when things didn’t progress at older toddler tempo. Feeling a bit tense from the potential meltdown, Todd signaled for the waiter and asked to upgrade our standard tea into champagne tea. Our bubbly arrived, along with a canvas tote filled with goodies for Ellie, just in time to turn sour grapes into sparkly champagne and avoid a major meltdown. Ellie played with the traditional paper dolls and made matches with the cards depicting London icons. The “sweet tea” arrived complete with champagne infused jello, a chocolate purse, and other delectable desserts. Another waiter waltzed over with a soft rendition of happy birthday and a special dessert just for the belated birthday girl. Ellie made a wish and blew out her candle then murmured, “Thank you, Mommy and Daddy…I love you.” All meltdowns were forgotten—minor details, right? With that sweet moment, our teacup runneth over. 
Travel Tip of the Day: Pack a small lunchbox in your luggage and reusable bags, like Lunchskins, so you can bring familar foods on outings and have plenty of snacks on hand for picky eaters. While we enjoyed fancy tea sandwiches, Ellie ate tried and true PB&J shaped like dinosaurs...had to make them a little fancy, right? 

Date Paris...Marry London

Although I stayed up late packing and tidying the apartment, I awoke early to write in the Paris morning light only to be greeted by gray skies and cooler temperatures. A week of unseasonably hot weather made me grateful for the nip in the air and filtered light that kept Ellie asleep a while longer. Axel arrived to check us out of the apartment and helped us with our baggage, noting a discernable increase in weight. Hopefully, he was referring to our baggage rather than our macaron indulgences. Our taxi arrived with the meter already running (and running fast) but I didn’t feel like squabbling because his services spared us from last year’s RER headache and deposited at Gare du Nord with time for espresso and pain au chocolat. We boarded the train and headed toward home…I mean London.

Ellie read books and snoozed while I peered out the window and watched the French countryside fade into the distance. We hadn’t passed through the Chunnel yet, but I already felt wistful for our unforgettable week in Paris. The cabin went dark and drifted us to sleep with memories of Paris and plans for London on our minds. My mind pressed reset when I heard my fellow passenger’s incessant ring tone, reminiscent of Laura Linney’s in Love Actually.

The Eurostar halted to a stop and arrived at St. Pancras International Train Station. Although everyone around me spoke English, I felt somewhat disoriented by the absence of French after a week’s immersion. We stopped at the ATM then bought takeaway triangle sandwiches before queuing for a taxi. The adept driver slid our bags into his capacious cab and popped open a handy toddler seat for Ellie. Before we knew it, we arrived at familiar Abingdon Road and turned the key to our other temporary home. Ellie immediately found her old bedroom then looked for the little ducks she played with last time and muttered something about her pink cast that was “all gone.” Her commentary, coupled with her sunnier disposition, proved she felt more like a native than a tourist. Maybe my best girl is an Anglophile, rather than a Francophile, after all.

Unpacked and ready to explore, we headed toward Kensington High Street to reacquaint ourselves and pick up supplies. Ellie spotted Trotters and headed inside to see the fish, peruse books, and play with toys. Her narrow feet make buying shoes difficult back home, so I took advantage of their thorough shoe fitting again this year and bought new navy Mary Janes with simple stitching and solid soles. Ellie pointed out the shiny Hunter rain boots and said they “matched mommy’s...please can I have them.” Just as I was about to tell her no and divert her attention, I saw the price tag and realized they were a fraction of the cost in the United States. I scooped up a pair—albeit a little big for her petite feet—for Ellie along with a second as a Christmas present for her best friend.

Wider sidewalks and fewer smokers made walking more pleasant as we bundled up and headed toward Chelsea for dinner at familiar Tom’s Kitchen. They seated us by the window and offered Ellie a goody bag that entertained her throughout dinner. I ordered and barely shared my saffron risotto because Todd chose a smelly, although tasty to him, fish pie. An espresso crème brulee and a scoop of vanilla ice cream for Ellie finished our meal, leaving me grateful for the longish walk home. We stopped at Tesco for groceries, and Ellie enjoyed pulling one of the wheeled baskets around the compactly efficient store. She selected some of her favorite foods and made her parents optimistic she’d eat a little better in London. Other than macarons and Berthillon Ice Cream, Ellie balked at French cuisine…even the Nutella crepes. Totally shaking my head on that one.

A few books about London settled our spun up girl and sent her to dream land with big adventures—a little museuming then high tea—awaiting tomorrow. Cozied up at the kitchen table with a spot of tea, I feel like I’ve come home after having an affair with my beloved Paris. 

Travel Tip of the Day: Take a taxi when you have a child and luggage to schlep. It's not worthing saving a few Euro or quid by using public transporation. 

À Bientôt, Paris

Long days of touring and walking, coupled with disrupted sleep, had left these temporary expatriates feeling a bit knackered. We took it easy Monday morning to catch up on rest and give Ellie a chance to read books and play with the few small toys we packed. Ellie found a piece of string and pretended it was Degas’ Dancer’s peach colored ribbon then twirled around the room, informing me she would need a new Halloween costume because the pink fairy princess just wouldn’t do thanks to her new obsession with the famous sculpture. Ever since the Chasing Fireflies catalog—which I foolishly failed to intercept—slipped through our mail slot in mid-August, Ellie has been begging for its opulent pink fairy princess ensemble. I balked at the outrageous price tag and set out to find a suitable substitute. Finally, we happened upon one at a local toy store that looked just like the other one but half the cost. I paid for the costume—reminiscent of Molly Ringwald’s “before” prom dress in Pretty in Pink—then quickly recycled the catalog, so my detail-oriented daughter wouldn’t try to play the matching game with her new purchase and the dream costume. Guess I’ll be keeping my eyes peeled for peach ballet clothes...otherwise, Halloween will result in one colossal tantrum. Good thing I saved the receipt and didn’t cut the tags.

Feeling more refreshed, we finally ventured out of the apartment and headed toward Saint-Germain to check out the unicorn tapestries at the medieval Cluny Museum. Ellie and I played a game of I Spy, looking for animals and other objects, as we viewed the beautiful tapestries in the dimly lit room. The lowered lights prompted Ellie to whisper, demonstrating her museum manners, and I praised her keen observations. Since we checked the stroller, we wandered through the museum unencumbered by the stairs and let Ellie lead the way. We discovered armor belonging to knights, cases of gilded jewels, intricately carved statues of religious figures, and gorgeous stained glass. When Ellie saw a statue of the Virgin Mary feeding baby Jesus, she exclaimed, “Look! It’s a princess and her baby. He’s so cute.” My fallen Catholic husband and I chuckled, feeling a bit relieved she didn’t ask any more questions. Ellie found the gift shop and played with the knights and horses before asking to see outside. We discovered a wonderful playground just outside the museum doors that gave Ellie a chance to climb and play while we checked the map and planned the rest of our last Paris afternoon.

The pleasing smell of crepes wafting through the air enticed these hungry travelers. We ordered two egg and cheese galettes for us along with a Nutella and banana crepe for Ellie, which she foolishly rejected. Todd and I honored our parental duty and choked it down. How could we let a perfect crepe go to waste? The unusually cold Coke Light felt refreshing while we enjoyed our lunch and rested our tired feet. Plans of returning to Luxembourg Gardens seemed unrealistic as the clock ticked later and later. We strolled toward Pierre Herme on Rue Bonaparte to order a few macarons and select chocolate gifts for friends back home. Not surprisingly, Ellie wanted vanilla then balked when it wasn’t as white as Laduree’s macaron. Nothing gets past this attentive little girl…guess she’s decided Laduree wins the macaron war.

We spotted Camper Shoes, so we headed over to see if they had Todd’s size in the pair that eluded him last week. With new shoes on his feet, Todd felt refreshed and ready to indulge me in a little more Left Bank wandering and window-shopping. A Sandro appeared around the corner, changing our mapped course yet again. I browsed the beautiful collection while practicing French with the patient and friendly salesperson then settled on one shirt and a pleated skirt to try then ultimately buy. The store manager showed a welcome willingness to tutor me in French, so we lingered in the store a bit longer. While mommy played school, Ellie enjoyed snack time and flirted with the staff.

Todd and I reflected on our wonderful week while we meandered along Rue du Cherche-Midi, Rue de Bac, and Rue de Grenelle in posh Saint-Germain. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed LK Bennett—the shoe brand I discovered at Selfridges last year and made famous by Kate Middleton—and had to take a look. The Duchess’s signature shoe, the taupe patent Sledge, sold out in the United States and London, stood prominently in the window and enticed me inside. A petite salesperson informed me they had one pair left and in my size. It was meant to be, right?

The three of us moved on and ironically passed the police station from last year’s robbery fiasco. Ellie heard the trickling sounds from the fountain at Saint-Sulpice and asked to make a wish, one of her favorite things to do. Instead of wishing for a new toy or the mommy-suggested world peace, she asked for more Paris with her family. Sadly, it was almost time to pack our bags and bid a bientot to Paris. We journeyed back to the apartment, and Ellie greeted our American babysitter with open arms. Todd and I returned to Chez Janou for one last meal in our adopted neighborhood. We shared the ratatouille then ordered the house steak along with a fish special served over whipped potatoes; the Chateauneuf du Pape complemented our simple yet delectable meal. Too full for dessert, we ambled home and took a seat at Café Charlot, feeling grateful for the happy ending to last year’s unfinished story.

Travel Tip of the Day: The best part of "slow travel" is that you can be flexible and not have to tourbo tourist each day. Sometimes it's best to regroup and make a new plan, especially with little ones in tow. The best memories are often made from the little moments, such as playing at Saint-Sulpice, rather than the colossal Eiffel Tower ones.