@pfooti · 2024-06-27 · travel

London, 27 June 2024

When I was starting the ninth grade, I told my English teacher that I intended to go into science, and therefore I did not really see the need to really study English as a class. I think I said “I don’t really need to pay my full attention to this” (in response to the first day of class exercise, "what do you want to get out of this class”. I don’t actually know how he responded. I mean, on the one hand: I was taking a lot of math and science classes, and I didn’t foresee myself living as a journalist or author. On the other hand, I’ve been helping people write (as a professor, and later a program officer), and honestly my ability to write reasonably well has been a big reason why I’ve been advancing in my current career. Plus, with the internet and these new-fangled blogs, everyone is a citizen journalist.

One of the many impressive ceilings in the Hampton Court House, I tried pronouncing “Henry VIII” as Henry Vee Eye Eye Eye or maybe Henry Veeeeee, but I couldn’t really make it work. I think there’s a good joke in there somewhere, but I’m not a funny person.

Anyway, after my first trip (in my extreme youth) to England, I came back claiming that there’s no good food to be had here. Which, I don’t know- maybe I was just super wrong, maybe I had lousy taste, maybe I couldn’t afford the good stuff. Who knows. It’s just been nonstop culinary delights. I suspect it’s my taste maturing, plus my wallet being able to support fancy meals. It feels the same though- I’ve spent so long learning Just How Wrong I Was.

A pretty traditional lunch. Veggie Tagine, Shepherd’s Pie, Ham Croquette. Had at the Ivy House in Richmond.

I’ve seriously eaten so well in London that it’s hard to talk about all the other cool stuff we did today. The highlights were: Hampton Court House, a large Royal palace open to the public, with wings that are kind of themed around Henry 8 (early 1500s) and William 3 (late 1600s). One of the things that struck me heavily in Morocco, and again here in England is just the sense of time passing. There’s been people in the Fez Medina for more than a thousand years. That is a long time. Oceans rise, empires fall, the city stands. These castles were in the royal family for five hundred years, absolute infants compared to some of the stuff in Fez, but San Francisco? We built that on top of stolen Ohlone land like last weekend or something.

These antlers are apparently older than America by quite a lot).

Anyway, we toured the castle, and saw the world’s largest grapevine. Which seems like the kind of thing you’d have at a roadside attraction somewhere near Elko, but no: it’s in a royal palace. I wonder what they do with the six hundred pounds of grapes they harvest every year. The sign indicated that this is more than the weight of three gardeners, but didn’t give the weight in kilograms. I can’t get a read on the English and the metric system.

We didn’t go inside. In retrospect we probably should have eaten there and not at the Ivy.

The town of Richmond is a short (one hour) boat ride up the Thames from Hampton Court, so of course we road a boat. It was lovely. We walked around, took some Ted Lasso photos, and sat in the park where we watched a one-legged rook (I think it was a rook) trying to hop around. It was sad, but then it just flew away like “oh yeah, I can fly”. The people who live in Richmond are kind of baffled by the american fascination with this one road and intersection, because apparently nobody here watched Ted Lasso.

Marker at 84 Charing Cross Road, explained here (en.wikipedia.org)

So yeah, we didn’t really do any Wizard Boy from Fashy Lady tourism, but we did check out 84 Charing Cross Road and the exterior shots from Ted Lasso. So: somewhat touristy.

Some of our dinner (that which I remembered to document) from Dishoom: Sweet potato chaat, veggie samosas, coconut rice pudding, chocolate pudding with cinnamon iced cream, house IPA. You know: India Pale Ale, so it’s relevant here, these were the beers they brewed in England to ship to India, with higher alcohol and hop content so they made the journey intact. I don’t know why they didn’t just ship the grain and the hops and brew locally, but I do like me an IPA. We also had a curry shrimp and grilled mushrooms that we tore into before I remembered to take a photo. Oh and also a spicy grilled street corn. I had to be rolled home in a cart.

Speaking of kind of touristy, we had dinner at New Dishoom (Covent Garden) and holy shit. There was a line to get in (about 30 minute wait, not too bad) and it was jammed with people who were largely tourists. But reader, remember how I said I have been eating well? This place was a marvel. Additionally: my ninth grade English teacher may note that I may have come a long way in life, maturity-wise, but I still started the prior sentence with a conjunction. I’ve earned it. We bought the cookbook, so look forward to some posts where I try to reproduce these.

From the palace. This dude literally had three throne rooms in succession, each more “privy” than the prior, each with a dais and a big padded chair that he’d sit in. I guess you could determine your importance by how far into the King’s chambers you’d go to meet him. He had a bedroom with a big bed that he didn’t sleep in, but he met with his most fanciest guests in that room while he was getting dressed, this was apparently a French thing that he thought was cool. Kings are weird.

Tomorrow: The Victoria and Albert museum, Westminster Abbey, Afternoon Tea.

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