The Luggage Diaries: Taking Tea, Take Two :: aka The Burkhart/Douglass British/American Extravaganza

The day before we left Doonbeg for London, I had this brand new and inconvenient thought: Mamie would probably do well to have a stroller in London. Because my wiring is to plan, it always annoys the dickens out of me when I forget something so obvious. I made a few desperate e-mail attempts from my phone on the way back from Bunratty to some London children's equipment rentals websites, but no one had anything available. Plus, no one could hear my pathetic excuse for a Southern accent via e-mail or see my best pitiful face, so I came up empty. It was decided then: Mamie would just have to tough it out and walk London. God, be with us.

We had plans to meet our friends, Jon and Jo Burkhart (and their kids, Olivia and Toby), for an "afternoon tea, take two" late lunch at Fortnum & Mason. London doesn't really have any big food craves for me, but they really shine on afternoon tea, which just so happens to be one of my primary love languages--thus, the twice-in-two-days approach to taking tea. I mean, really, can you have too much afternoon tea--ever? Don't spur me on toward laughter.

So for the first half of the day, we decided to do one of the hop on-hop off, double-decker bus tours around the city, with plans to end up around Piccadilly for lunch. This felt like a good decision because 1.) the bus tours are actually quite educational and interesting, 2.) one of Walker's goals for his London experience was to get to ride on the top of a double-decker bus, 3.) we had good weather and 4.) it minimized 4-year old walking.

We hopped on and rode around for about an hour before I heard our tour guide murmur something about Changing of the Guard at 11:30 and that, incidentally, we were very near Buckingham Palace. I thought, "What fun! Let's hop off!" So we did. Aaaand it took about five whole minutes of walking before Mamie and Walker, who were (only minutes before) happy as larks on the bus, to start whining like royal nails on a chalkboard from "all the walking." As parents, we all have our whining quota for any given day--and it doesn't always reset at the end of every day. It sometimes carries over. And Dean and I both were at our max. For the love, please SHUT IT. It was the kind of whining that makes me just want to run screaming down the street with Cruella Deville crazy eyes, pulling out whole sections of my hair and crying out for the return of Jesus. By the time we took Olympic cycling path-induced detours and got stuck in a bottlenecked section of fencing into Green Park, Mamie was beside herself and I wasn't far behind. Did I neglect to mention that once we got to the Palace, we found out the Changing of the Guard was cancelled, due to the aforementioned cycling? My family was LOVING me.

Needless to say, we promptly made our way back onto the bus at our earliest convenience. But trying to "do London" with three kids had very much left its mark on me. And the battle between what I would have loved for us to have done and what our capacity actually was as a family--it was constant. We resolved to just stay on the bus until it was tea time with the Burkharts. And THAT was a rare treat, indeed. There is truly almost nothing in my life I've found that crustless sandwiches on soft bread, scones, and endless cups of tea, milk and honey won't cure, at least momentarily. Ahh, sanity reclaimed.

Breakfasting at the hotel, Walker was keen to sport his complimentary visor he scored from the Penguin shop the night before in Covent Garden.

No table in the UK or Ireland is ever without brown and white sugar cubes and a pair of tongs.

French press coffee pots are pretty much standard.

Maybe it's just our family, but breakfast "buffet" bars are extremely high-maintenance. On the outset, it would seem more of a low-maintenance concept--let the kids get their own breakfast, easier on mom and dad. Not true. They end up with meals that consist of three different kinds of cheese and a danish pastry. Or in Mamie's case, a bowl of cornflakes with a croissant torn into pieces and arranged on top. Breakfast of champions. Then they have to get up and down from the table at least five times a piece because they forgot jam for their toast or to put milk in their cereal.

Massive photo displayed on the side of this building along the Thames, in honor of the recent Diamond Jubilee celebration.

All smiles on the double-decker tour bus. that would soon change.

Buckingham Palace breakdown. Are we having fun yet?

Now are we having fun? All three faces here are telling.

Note to the mothers: when your kids start smiling like this, call it a day with the camera.

This sign is displayed on the check-in counter at Fortnum & Mason's tearoom. A good rule for tea time and, probably, life in general.

It's Jon and Toby, tearing up the "dance floor" in the tearoom.

If you know Jon Burkhart, you can just know that incorporating dancing into an afternoon tea experience isn't that much of a stretch.

The beautiful Burkhart family! Jo and Jon, Olivia and Toby. So awesome to be with them!

This sweet little thing tortured me. Just wanted to grab him!! Seen here wearing his trademark furrowed brow.

Ohh, Olivia! You are so beautiful! And look at little Blancita, the kitty cat, watching you drink your lemonade.

The children's menu at Fortnum & Mason. You might think tea rooms would discourage children from attending, but that isn't the case at all, as you can see here. In fact, at the Savoy, Mamie's tea was free and the boys had discounted rates. Love it.

An afternoon tea "first" for Lesli. I take my tea with milk and honey, not the regular sugar. So I usually have to request the honey as it is not usually set out unrequested. F&M actually brought me a warmed jug of hot honey. Warmed. Heated honey. For my hot tea. Brilliant.