Jet Lagged in London

Keeping the children —and quite honestly, myself— awake after traveling many hours to arrive at Heathrow had it’s challenges. We were falling asleep all over the city.

No matter the amount of investigative research I did to prepare for our first time abroad with all four children, jet lag was learned on the ground.

Upon arrival we shrugged off the desire to collapse on the beautifully tucked hotel beds and immediately went to Caravan for breakfast. Our first real meal outside of an airport for what felt like days.

Zachary and I quickly found the end of our cold-pressed cucumber, parsley, apple juice. So we proceed to signal the server relentlessly regarding the bottomless coffee.

“If we can just push through today we will all feel great for the rest of the trip.”

If we heard the phrase from our fearless leader once, we heard it one thousand times. My teenage son and I caught glances. With much skepticism between nodding off while sitting upright we tried to hold on to hope.

First things first; Westminster Abbey. Zachary and I were most passionate about seeing the Poet’s Corner. Among them were a memorial for Jane Austen and Robert Brownings resting place. Let’s not forget Issac Newton.

With sleepy little girls in arm, we managed to make our way up the road to Buckingham Palace. Stopping at the park to chase pigeons, climb trees, and journal. The swans at the duck island redirected the attitudes of our toddler who just wanted a bed.

When a playground came into view there was newfound energy. After dodging little children throwing sand and long minutes on the swing set, we found the palace gates. As we observe the palace guards we compared notes from Michael Bond’s, Paddington at the Palace.

We used the tube underground to cover longer distances with the children.

In the evening, we gorged ourselves at Ottolenghi’s. The chermoula cod with roasted peppers, peas, and pine nuts made me want to run to the kitchen to give the chef a cheek smooch! In a word, divine. Truly, truly divine.

A glass of Mâcon Villages, Bourcier Martinot, Burgundy, France, 2022 complimented perfectly. But I think it would compliment most dishes since white Burgundy stole my heart when introduced to me at a bookclub a few years ago. Yet, I’m eager to taste and try new flavors this trip. Who knows?!

We slept upward of twelve hours. I woke before the children to sneak to the lobby for an Americano. Then took to the rooftop cafe— only open in the evenings. In the morning, I had it to myself with the exception of a maintenance gentleman who was “just measuring things up”.

The cool morning was a gift and the quiet was welcome after the exceedingly long days of transportation. From the roof I could see the Tate Modern Art museum in the distance. My coffee cooled in the chilly air before I could finish it.

When returning to the room, Zachary had risen. Together, we rouse the children.

While I helped the little girls dress and brush their teeth for the day Zachary retrieved pain aux raisins and pastries from Rosslyn’s for the the children before checking out. The milk, juice and sweets promptly revitalized them and we were ready to head to Paris!

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Bonjour, Paris!

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Strawberry Pickin’