An English Weekend - Part 2

London Crawling

Morgan Stanley "Healthy Cities Garden" - Gold Winner - Chelsea Flower Show

Be careful what you wish - you just might get it...


Crossing the pond for such a short jaunt bothered me  because of the six hour time change. Jet lag effects everyone, and in my experience, the shorter the change, the worse it hits. Sure, frequenting the thirteen hour difference between Richmond and Beijing never burdened me (when heading to China that is; coming home was a different story). I was terrified to spend a weekend in London knowing I would need to be on my A-game with work the moment I returned. 

I can't explain it, but somehow a miraculous combination occurred that prevented jet lag: lackluster sleep on the airport floor and flying across the pond at 7:00am, arriving at 8:30pm (a day spent in the air). By nightfall when our Heathrow Express train pulls into Paddington Station, fumes of excited relief fuel my muscles, tirelessly placing one foot in front of the other down the long platform. My thoughts race as I stare at quintessential London architecture while listening to public announcements from a soothing female English accent and simultaneously wonder if I'd happen upon Austin Powers and Felicity Shagwell searching the station for Fat Bastard. Climbing aboard a black London taxi I breath a sigh of relief: We've made it. 

"Shagwell by name, shags VERY well - by reputation"

Across the street from our hotel - a mainstay of London - is an equally divine restaurant. The Wolseley has graciously saved us a table in anticipation of our late, late arrival. Housed in a former bank turned auto-factory in the 1920s, intricate wrought iron, brick, tile, and dark woods combine to form a quintessential atmosphere of classic London dining. I toast our arrival with a concoction of equal parts Guinness and Champagne aptly named "Black Velvet" which tastes...interesting - albeit I prefer this to plain Guinness. Croustade of quail eggs with hollandaise followed by grilled halibut concocts a fresh spring breeze for my palate, cleansing it of the mediocre-at-best economy-class food (or whatever the airline calls it). 

THERE ARE NO COINCIDENCES:

At the time of this trip my boss, Lucia, was undergoing her last chemo treatment for breast cancer. I told her I wouldn't object to staying, but she insisted I go. Though some may disagree, I found it no coincidence that I flew on Delta's breast cancer awareness plane. When I sent her a picture she laughed and told me to drink something pink; as I open the dessert menu one name selection captures my attention. I must have it. And so it went, with a glass of chilled rosé I savor the robust fusion of pistachio, hazelnut, and almond nougat ice-cream topped with whipped cream and butterscotch sauce. I send another picture to her with the caption, "Cheers to you - a glass of rosé and my dessert, The Lucian."

To describe Uncle Rick as an avid gardener is an understatement. For half a century his designs have graced the finest homes and weddings in Virginia. Whereas Muslims make the Hajj to Mecca, and Jews pilgrimage to Solomon's Temple, the world's gardeners journey every May to the Royal Horticulture Society's Chelsea Flower Show. Plants and flowers of every variety can be found here, painstakingly tricked into blooming earlier or later than normal to reach full blooms for the five day showing. Namesake designers create exhibition gardens so meticulously prepared they look as if they were always there - in fact, designers are allotted only 19 days to construct their garden from scratch! 

Peonies Galore

Saturday morning - the last day of the show - is the busiest. 157,000 visitors attend the show every year and until 1988 up to 90,000 visitors per day was common. Nowadays the number is limited to 40,000 which makes the former seem unbearable. Passing marvelous show gardens is like walking through the Louvre: scores of people huddle around snapping away pictures. There are so many styles: city gardens, country gardens, modern gardens, creeks, boulders, cacti, statues - frankly, it's overwhelming. Inside the main tent, vendors showcase their floral collections; visitors can place orders for flowers and seedlings. Americans cannot possibly comprehend the intricacy and dedication involved - Lowe's and Home Depot represent less than 1% of the varieties offered here. 

Homebase Urban Retreat Garden - Gold Winner

Besides the show gardens and exhibition tents, a quaint side alley free of the hullaballoo is lined by the artisan gardens. These smaller, more intimate gardens reflect creative thought processes that never bothered considering 'the box.' One of my favorites is a small country garden paying tribute to the 800th Anniversary of the Magna Carta complete with hand-painted coats of arms of all the signatories (three of whom I can trace my family heritage). Nobility aside, I go weak at the knees for anything Asian (pun intended), especially Japanese gardens. The Fable of Togenkyo - a beautiful place to forgot everything else, though once visited can never be revisited - comes to life in this masterpiece designed by Kazuyuki Ishihara. 

Togenkyo - Gold Winner - Best Artisan Garden

Yep - that garden took 19 days to create

England isn't well known for its cuisine aside from fish & chips, bangers & mash, etc; not that American cuisine is much better; of course 'fusion' cuisine is exempted. Historically people ate at the pubs, so pub food is their mainstay. If you don't have much time in London, a great place to whet your appetite is the food gallery at Harrods. Oyster bar or meat pies, Sushi bar or Moroccan dishes, sandwiches, sweets, meats, veggies - a true smorgasbord of flavors. I opt for a morsel of Royal Game Pie - pheasant and deer, I think - followed by savory fried squid and raw rock oysters. A bit of light shopping afterwards turns into Maze Runners as I search frantically for an exit lest I fall victim to zealous consumerism; I can't imagine what chaos takes place here the day after Christmas. 

Moroccan at Harrods

Mayfair is a wonderful neighborhood to walk around. Stately homes abut cozy gated parks along quiet streets. Shopkeepers display their own floral decorations on the sidewalks to entice passersby - or better yet to simply celebrate their passions, much like a pride flag. Most eye-catching is a wedding dress flanked by bridesmaids dresses, all made of flowers. The fragrances emitting from Jo Malone stop me dead in my tracks. It's always a blessing to find oneself in a place so accommodating to walkers. 

Several friends from Beijing currently live in London, and I was eagerly anticipating a mini-reunion on Friday evening. Due to the unfortunate circumstances  of our delay, our fun-filled night of shenanigans and debauchery was cancelled. Every attempt to rendezvous was thwarted by unforeseen obstacles - indeed, as my friend the fabulous Laura Hine put it, "this time we are but ships passing in the night." Damn those Brits and their superior, bittersweet poetic declarations!!! 

Beijingers

Thankfully, I get to spend an evening with a few friends in Camden Town - London's version of Hohai in Beijing - filled with bars, restaurants, clubs, the young and the hip. Together we secure tickets to Electronic Orchestra, a popular band in the UK. I didn't exactly fancy the music however good company and good beer transform any event into a pleasurable one...


...until that is an inebriated girl in front of me flips me the bird when she discovers I'm American. "Sorry for courteously taking your picture for you." I want to leave it at that, but she lectures further, accosting Americans as evil imperialists who do whatever and kill whoever to get what they please. She uses the Iraq invasion as an example (touché). 

Apparently she never quite grasped the scope of the British Empire. I inquire as to whether she recalls any of the following: first, second, or third Anglo-Afghan Wars, Boer War in South Africa, Hundred Years War or Napoleonic War with France (along with countless others), Opium War in China - wars in India, Burma, Sri Lanka, Malaysia, East Africa, Palestine, Egypt, the American Colonies, the annexation of Northern Ireland, all the while slaughtering indigenous peoples, pillaging villages and cities, rapturing oppositions and economies, and forcing 'salvation' through Christ at the end of a bayonet...

Nope, just blame the Americans.