Hello from Iceland...

where it's, well, icy. No joke, yesterday whilst hiking I could hear a glacier moving. Kind of sounds like a transport truck driving over a metal bridge...

Anyway, limited internet access here in the land of, um, ice (and other natural wonders, but there really is a lot of ice!). Watch for pictures next week!

Five Senses: Whitstable

Last weekend Londonista and I spent a lovely afternoon in Whitstable. Here's what we saw, felt, heard, tasted and smelled:

Saw: lovely little beach houses!

Felt: a little too chilly for a dip!

Heard: a carnival!

Tasted: salt, and some cod... (Canadian, possibly).

Smelled: kinda fishy (but a neat idea)

Spot on

I had my first experience with a full-blown “afternoon tea” on Saturday. Londonista -who wishes she were always here but was, in fact, only here for a week- and I both love tea. We’ve been drinking tea together, both real and imaginary, since we met when Londonista was three. We also both love food, so a “real” afternoon tea was the perfect friend date. In fact, as soon as I found out Londonista was coming to town, I started investigating venues:

• The Ritz: booked (too bad, we were hoping to fashion-stalk Kate)
• Claridges: booked (and also a little too OTT for a “girls’ tea out”)
• The Howard: third try’s a charm- a couple of time slots were available. And tea at the Howard ends with a plate of biscuits and chocolates in the shape of famous London landmarks. Um, yes please!

We slept in on Saturday and had a bird’s breakfast (you know, to save room for the tea), got dressed up in our “eating dresses”, and shopped our way to the hotel. Mulberry, Harrods, Burberry, Harvey Nichols… A few food hall bags (and a creamy carrier filled with luxury to quell Londonista’s Burberry obsession until her next visit) later, we arrived at The Howard.

We walked through a chic lobby to the partially-cleared dining room (we were a little early). As we were escorted to our table in the lounge by our lovely hostess, we noticed that a lot of people had left a lot of food on their tea caddies: nearly-full plates of sandwiches, only one missing scone, a complete level of strawberry tarts. Why would anyone go to tea on anything but an empty stomach, we wondered?

 

We forgot about the leftovers as soon as we sat down in our plush grey chairs to peruse the tea menu. We both settled on Earl Grey Flowers. As we waited to be served, we exclaimed over the décor:

“It’s modern, but definitely not cold”

“LOVE the table – hard to keep smudge-free though!”

“Great bookshelves – is that really a cat book???”

“Can you fit that pillow in your bag?”

                                               “WHAT????”

                                             “Kidding!”

“I love that lamp!”

“And aren’t the chandeliers neat?”

”I would buy that” 
“Ask where they got it from”
 

And then the food arrived, stunning us into silence. It was a clouds-parting, harp-playing angels kind of moment. A man across the room barely contained his laughter when our faces lit up at the sight of two tea pots, three tiers of food, a tray of cold desserts, and the crowning glory, the cookie plate.
 
It was elegant. We were, well, not.
 
It started out well. We sipped our tea and took dainty bites of our delicious sandwiches (prawn lemon on pesto bread, smoked salmon on tomato bread, cucumber, and ham and mustard). The waiter looked amused as he cleared our plate.
 
We moved on to the tarts (lemon and strawberry), and then Toblerone mousse and raspberry and pistachio cake and another pot of tea. The waiter’s amusement changed to morbid fascination (how much can these two eat??)
 
One scone (could we have some more cream please?) and then another… and then…. We were full. SO. FULL. While we had been sure we were barely going to leave even crumbs behind, we ended up asking for all of the cookies to be boxed up, much to the waiter’s relief. (I’m fairly certain the staff had never before seen two girls eat an entire afternoon tea.) We were there for our full time-slot (teas are booked in two-hour shifts) and then some.

All gone!

“TLSee”at the Howard, or “London-cookie-tea”, as we call it, has made its way into my little black London book. The food was amazing. The tea was amazing. The service was amazing. Fun for tourists and residents alike, and perfect for a friendaissance, tea at the Howard is spot on. Just make sure you’re good and hungry before you go…

Tall Girl and Londonista at the Howard

P.S. The cookies make a great late-night dinner!

I've been blogged!!!

http://amberandjade.wordpress.com/2011/08/17/tall-world-after-all/
Check it out, a blog post about my blog!

A big thank you to the lovely ladies at Amber and Jade for the kind words - so glad you're enjoying my tall tales. (Haha... how could I resist?)

When your Bestie’s in town

Hosting a Bestie is almost not hosting at all. Of course you aim for a presentable house, a full fridge, and fun times, but if the pillowcase doesn’t get ironed, you run out of milk, or you work late and just don’t want to go out again, your bestie will understand.

The fact that your bestie knows all about you makes her an even better guest: she won’t talk to you as soon as you wake up because she knows you don’t like talking until you are a little bit more “awake”. She will finish packing your lunch while you search madly for your other earring. She will not bat an eye when you sprinkle salt on your cantaloupe. And she might even be able to tell what mood you’re in by your outfit choice (mine can).

Of course there is always laundry to do and dishes to put away, but when your bestie is your guest, you can do all of that stuff as you visit. Your bestie will probably even pitch in so you can finish faster and get on to more important things like singing along to your old favourite songs and hunting for conversation pieces in bargain shops.

Sailor Girl was in town twice in the last month, and while the motive behind her trip was less than thrilling, I was nonetheless thrilled to see her. We caught up over copious amounts of tea and coffee. We threw together meals and ate as we gushed over Gwyneth’s hair in Sliding Doors for the umpteenth time. We went to Hugh’s Notting Hill haunts, sniggering at outrageous t-shirt slogans and agreeing that Hugh should really try a villainous role for a change. We spent an afternoon perusing magazines and painting our nails. We went to yoga and relaxed by the pool. Yes, hosting a bestie is the best.

Now Sailor Girl is gone and new guests have arrived. While I am slightly more concerned about pressed bed linen and the state of the fridge, I’m trying to keep the bestie-vibe alive. So far this has resulted in my being the first person in bed. It means no tidy-dash in the dark and no midnight mirror clean. It means making reservations on busy nights and proudly serving fruit and cheese on your favourite plate when you’re not up for cooking. It’s a shift from environment-driven hosting to something based on interaction.

Thanks for the reminder, Sailor Girl. (“That’s what besties are for”, she’d say.)

Showers in Bath

When the train pulled in to sunny Bath Spa yesterday afternoon we thought, “Woohoo! We’ve lucked out! All of this rain gear for nothing!” But God said, “Nope”. 

While I love Bath and could wander around all its Georgian goodness for an entire day, when a colleague told me about the Bath Skyline Hike, I thought it would be a great Sunday afternoon activity, and definitely more interesting for our guests than gushing over Jane Austen and Palladianism. Tall Guy has the hiking bug, so a leisurely hike sounded good to him, too. Small Sister and SS Boyfriend, on the other hand, were not convinced. They shot daggers at Tall Guy and I when they found out our “little hike” covered six miles of hilly terrain (yesterday we went for a “spin” around London: we biked from home to Marble Arch and then walked down Oxford to Regent, to Piccadilly Circus, to China Town -paused for lunch, to Buckingham Palace, back to Hyde Park, pause for groceries at Whole Foods, and home again. That’s about nine miles...).

Anyway, we ended up on a tour bus. We made it all the way around the Bath Skyline route, riding on the open top level, and managed to snap some shots of Pulteney Bridge before the rain came down. And then we discovered that someone did not have a raincoat. And that I was the only person with an umbrella. KABOOM! (Thunder) And that, as Tall Guy suggested as the first drops fell, it wasn’t going to rain itself out in a few minutes. We decided it was a good time for lunch.

After pigging out at Pizza Express, we dashed to Bath Abbey, conveniently open for one hour on Sunday afternoons, and ooed and ahhed over the architecture as we waited for the rain to stop.

When we left the Abbey, it was really coming down, so we toured Bath on the Bath City Tour Bus: your favourite nerdy Tall Girl listened to the commentary and failed to convince her guests that it was worth getting off the bus (in the pouring rain) to see things up close. Tall Guy to the rescue – donned in his super raingear, he braved the open-top and snapped a bunch of rainy pics to please his Blue Princess Eye (that’s Blue-Eyed Princess for you non-Spanglish readers).

We drove past the Palladian-style splendours and the Jane Austen pilgrimage sites (“it’s a gravel path… they walk on it in this book… yes, there is a movie and it is probably dubbed in Spanish…”) and ended up at the Roman Baths museum. It was still raining. In we went. I was there a long time ago and only really remembered the green pool (“don’t touch the water,” I was warned,  “it isn’t treated… and pigeons swim in it!”), so it was great to visit again.

After an hour of soaking up history, we were ready for a soak ourselves. Thermae Bath is a relatively new spa complex not far from the Roman Baths. The rain stopped long enough for us to enjoy the outdoor rooftop pool, which has great views of the city and surrounding area. We went inside and down one floor to enjoy a selection of four steam rooms, then down to an indoor thermal pool.

We floated around until it was time to dash to the train station, where we saw a steam train leave to Bristol. Tall Guy commented that it wasn’t a very green travel option, and he’s right, but it provided a close that suited our trip to Bath Spa very well.