Iconic Britain

I was just reading the newspaper and there was a short article on the Silver Cross Pram, the iconic British baby carriage that was first given to Queen Elizabeth decades ago.  I've seen that pram appear in magazines typically with posh celebrities with lattes and pashminas pushing their slumbering babies through Central Park or perhaps Regent Street or Green Park.  The Pram is classy and like the Rolls Royce, Aston Martin or Jaguar, is distinctively and stylishly British.

I started thinking about how Britain is just really good at iconic marketing.  Quietly posh, elegant, regal iconic marketing.  Yes, the monarchy, the Mall, images of Buckingham Palace, Big Ben (which Anna and Michael will tell you is actually Elizabeth Tower and Big Ben refers to the bells as we learned on our bus tour), Tower Bridge, Westminster Abbey, are sort of a given.

The color red is very dominant here.  There is definitely a British red.  It is not shouty but it is bright. The red phone boxes, the red letter boxes, the red postal vans, one can't help but want to photograph them and stick them on a wall.  All are the same rich tone of red, very identifiable, stable and consistent--like British culture.  Paired with the red on the Union Jack and English flags, you get a lovely coordinated set of colors.

When my friend Jen and I and our kids went to the London Transport Museum in October, I was impressed by the level of thought put into iconographic transportation.  Most people can picture the black London taxi and the red double decker bus.  Even the London Underground, which itself looks like a standard subway train, was strategically given an iconic, very visible round red logo with a solid blue stripe joining each end.  The Underground and buses allowed people to move to the suburbs and commute into the city for work.  It was advertised that in the suburb, there was more space for a family, more greenery and fresh air and that transportation was heroic in affording this new opportunity.

"Underground" inspired furniture

The Transport Museum also featured examples of subway station designs.  Each station can be identified by its own distinct patterns and colors.  Various train lines (e.g., Northern line, Jubilee line) also have specific seat upholstery designs associated with them.  In the gift shop, my friend Jen pointed out the big display of upholstered furniture and luggage based on the Underground designs that one could buy for their own home.  What a concept.  Public transportation is typically thought of as a basic service, no frills, no personality, anonymous, and indeed "public".  The fact that people desire and aspire to own and proudly identify with a piece of the Underground means they are doing something right.

I haven't even yet mentioned Andy Warhol, the Beatles, most pop music of the 80's... Britain even "owns" the concept of a teapot and fine china.  And biscuits.  At least Americans have donuts and Coke.

Dressing the Part

Today, I decided to try dressing more like the mums at the school gate.  I'm more of a bootleg jeans and simple tops kind of person, but tunics, treggings and long boots are all the rage here.  Fascinating how we readily adapt to a new environment.

Goodbye bootleg jeans; hello boots (and legs)

It's a Pub Life

John and I went out on Saturday afternoon to do some planning.  With notebook in hand, we drove to Raby and enjoyed a lovely pub lunch at the Wheatsheaf, definitely one of my favorite places on the Wirral.  The pub is along a country road in a beautiful old farmhouse building with a thatched roof and thick wooden beams, a place seeping with character.

We sat near the stone fire at a wooden table among other patrons.  I picture them all in cable knit sweaters though I know the couple across from us were buff and wearing instructor gear from The Underground training centre.  A little boy with his dad and grandpa at the next table swept his finger across his dad's beer foam and licked it with a smile.  Three pub pooches were gently slumbering under their respective tables. Dogs in pubs tend to be old, gentle and sweet.  I think even our kids would be pleased to have them at their feet.

John went to order our drinks, and the bartender asked how Michael was enjoying his half-term break.  It turns out that the bartender was Mr. __, the manager at St. Peter's Primary.  He works at the pub on Saturdays and has been doing so for decades.  I chatted with him briefly later and yesterday at school pickup.  A nice man, clearly respected and looked up to by the kids at school.

We clearly aren't in America but instead in Postman Pat's village.  We will have to bring Michael and Anna to the Wheatsheaf one Saturday to say hello and have some chips.

http://www.wheatsheaf-cowshed.co.uk/

Polly Put the Kettle On

Every time I walk through the door, I feel a compulsion to turn on the kettle.  I'm sure it has something to do with the weather and it certainly helps that our kettle is about two steps away from the door.  To lean over and turn on the kettle is a break in the day.  Absolute bliss.

There is something so reassuring and calming about the sounds of the kettle.  The initial seething kettle, the crescendo of sound to a warm and vibrant "berkling" of the water as the kettle jiggles and the steam shoots out the spout.

I am convinced that the civility of a cup of tea (or 5) everyday is good for the body and soul.  It is reassuring, centering, calming, social.  I like that we break for tea (or coffee) in art class and photography class.  I also recall watching a major cricket match in which "tea time" was called, so the players left the field to regroup over a cup of tea.

I once saw a greeting card that read, "With a cup of tea in your hand, you can do anything."  I wholeheartedly agree.

20 Cultural Values

Here are some cultural values that I think are different from the US.  I would guess that some of these are more pronounced among the middle or upper class, older generations, and those from traditional British families-- but with a ribbon of commonality or understanding among the general population.

1. Modesty over bragging 
2. Fitting in over being different
3. Not calling too much attention to oneself or one's own accomplishments
4. Avoiding embarrassment for oneself or others
5. Respect for hierarchy
6. Importance of manners
7. Being sensible
8. Not criticizing people directly (unless in a hierarchy)
9. Simplicity over fussiness
10. Less in more
11. No wasting; buy small quantities
12. Rooting for the underdog
13. Being too forward; giving people space
14. Not being nosy; personal questions or overt friendliness are not to be doled out to just anyone 
15. "Keep calm and carry on"
16. The importance of the weather
17. Humor but not quite the same as US humor
18. Being self-deprecating
19. "With a cup of tea in your hand, you can do anything"
20. "Customer service is not a 'thing'"-- American forms of friendliness particularly in customer service encounters can be viewed as inauthentic and "genericized" to the public; the Lower Village has great customer service due to the natural friendliness of those who work there; Costa Coffee or M&S seem to be exceptions with regard to customer service.

Consumer-Car Relationships

Our Mazda

The other day, I parked our Mazda 3 in the parking lot of Tesco (supermarket).  I reversed to straighten out the car a couple times so it was exactly between the designated lines.  When I opened my driver's side door, I judged the tiny wedge of space between my car and my neighbor's.  Drawing my breath in, I stuck my leg out and proceeded to shimmy my body out of the car, grazing my belly and jeans pockets between both cars in the process.  If you own a car in England, you have to lose weight.

This is not the first time this has happened to me.  I would guess about every other week, I am faced with a similar situation.  Car spaces tend to be narrow and people are good about parking their cars between the lines.  However, when sandwiched between cars BOTH edging toward my lines, it's a problem.  My one dramatic incident was at Christmas time when the Tesco lot was totally jammed and I was required to take a slim space next to the covered cart/trolley return shed.  That was the day I learned to fold in my side mirrors before opening the door and nearly resorted to a pre-shimmy parka removal.  I also considered crawling out the trunk.  But I managed.  Somehow.

In England, there are big cars and small cars.  But mostly small cars.  And it totally makes sense why.

I've seen some beautiful cars pull up outside our kids' school on School Hill.  Someone has a Lamborghini Testarossa parked on the gravel pathway to the school gate.  Everyday, hundreds of children and parents (and sometimes dogs) march past that car, possibly brushing against it in the process, and most certainly getting dust on it, not to mention the sideways rain.  It's a beautiful car, but it can't be sheltered from people and the elements.

There is a souped up Mercedes that periodically shows up at morning drop off.  Like all the other cars, it has to squeeze into spaces on School Hill, with the occasional tree branch or bush grazing its wing mirrors or sunroof.  You can't be too protective of your car here.  Because much of England was built pre-car, there are charming, little roads that were put in around houses and buildings.  Which means your car will have to do some squeezing.  Sometimes it's just a gorse bush brushing against your windows.  In other instances, it means two-way traffic can funnel into one when you least expect it.

Have you ever driven up Storeton Lane?  Or past the pub up School Hill?  Turn a busy corner at the hat shop or pub and put on the brakes.  There may be cars coming at you.  The rules of safety etiquette require that you wait; otherwise, someone has to back up.  Crashing would do no one any favors.  Politeness on the road and waiting your turn is a necessity.  You must always be thinking.  You cannot zone out.

When I drive in San Diego or State College, my car is a bubble.  I keep to myself barring the occasional wave to a neighbor or friend driving by.  When I drive through Heswall, there is a need to be in touch with those driving around you, to acknowledge other drivers.  Because two-way roads often have cars parked along them, weaving becomes a natural part of driving.  If cars are parked on your side, you pause to allow cars on the other side to pass first.  Out of politeness, everyone does a quick wave of acknowledgement and thanks.  On the rare occasions that there is no wave, you feel annoyed.

Because roads are narrow, people park their cars partly on the curbs to leave more room for cars on the road to get by.  And you can park whichever direction is easier to get in.  If you're the Lamborghini or Mercedes owner, you would do the same.  That is just how it is.  Roads and parking are the great equalizer in the UK.

Speaking of curbs, I did have the unfortunate incident of misjudging my drive up The Mount on the way to Tesco one day.  I couldn't see around the corner properly and was supposed to give way to a giant bus coming down the road.  I tried to reverse, but then another car pulled up behind me.  I didn't know what to do.  Mr. Bus Driver didn't bat an eyelash.  He just kept driving toward me and then turned his wheels up on to the sidewalk and drove essentially sideways down the road past my car. Embarrassed, I tried to look as non-American as possible.  And I hope none of the passengers recognized me.  They probably did.

Where is the fast food?

"You can almost tell someone's background by their weight." --Anne Soubry,  junior health minister 

Photo from The Daily Telegraph (24 Jan 2013)

I just stumbled across that quote while reading the morning paper (The Daily Telegraph).  Coincidentally, I was just thinking yesterday about fast food restaurants and the fact that there are no McDonald's (or equivalent) restaurants within the vicinity of our house.  Fast food options do exist for sure, but not at the same level of mass production as a burger chain.  There are a couple family-owned chip shops but no chain restaurants.  You can get sandwiches or Costa Coffee on the run, and Tesco and the Village Shop have a selection of sausage rolls and cornish pasties, and the small Dominos in town will deliver pizza.

The nearest McD's that I can think of is about a 25 minute drive from Heswall.  In State College, there is a Burger King around the corner from our house and three McDonald's within a 10 minute drive.  If you live in a bigger town or city like Ellesmere Port or Chester or Liverpool here in the UK, I'm sure it would be the same.  But our village, and the well-heeled enclaves around us, are insulated from these options.  I haven't even caught a glimpse of a burger bag or a soda straw in weeks.  The families we see at the school tend to be fit.  Walking up School Hill helps.  The lack of fast food probably does too.

John told me that he didn't see fast food until he was a teenager.  As a child, caravan holidays meant stopping at pubs for lunch.  For me, holidays were a family road trip to LA or Vegas, and french fries were invariably a staple.  I grew up in a modern city with highways and big shopping malls.  Definitely a different background than a quiet, quaint village of sandstone cottages and history, easily predating the 20th century.  The latter is seeping with high cultural capital and seemingly at odds with the material mass consumption of fast food.

Pret A Manger (photo taken by Alicia when she visited us!)

Even if you live near McDonald's in the UK, you may find fresher fast food options along the same block.  Higher end "fast food" options here like Pret a Manger, Marks & Spencer Food, Eat, and Upper Crust are plentiful--portable and freshly baked bread, homemade soups, attractive salads and sandwiches, edamame (!)  Marks & Spencer food has an incredible selection of fancier lunch items like hoisin duck wraps, smoked salmon sandwiches, goats cheese salads, made recently and presented in windowed boxes rather than squished into cellophane.  The last time we were at a train station, I thought the kids would be excited to see a Burger King.  They seemed surprisingly apathetic.  The line was long, so we picked up sandwiches from M&S Food accompanied by a bag of cheese curls that Anna picked to up the sodium a bit.

On balance, I find that the longer I'm away from McD's, the less I personally desire it.  This is odd coming from someone who's big treat was going to McDonald's as a child and who likes having it as a tasty fall back option when busy.  When we were at the outlet mall recently, we huddled with the kids at a McD's booth with kids happy meals on one end and Pret sandwiches and salads on the other.

On a related note, I drink far less soda.  Coke used to be my "thing" with a burger or after teaching or going out for dinner.  I am just less interested in it now and don't enjoy it as much as I once did.

The kids sometimes ask about McDonald's.  I sometimes wish there was one nearby. However, now that Krispie Kreme is here in the UK, I can satisfy my American carb intake in other ways.  That's one thing I can't resist.

Snow in England. Who Knew?

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...  even though it's January.  It started snowing on Friday early morning and has continued through the weekend.  Here are some pics of the kids in our back garden.  They also had a blast playing with our neighbor Sally.  Michael and Sally even tried sledding in a roasting tin with limited success.

Anna's 6th Birthday

Decorated by Michael & Grandma

Anna had a very sweet and memorable birthday party at a local craft center.  The word that comes to mind is "lovely".  There were 10 children in total, dressed in party clothes, gathered around a big table at which they painted ceramic animals and then did decopatch of their first initials.  They were all really focused on their crafts with an occasional interlude of happy singing by Anna.  Really lovely party goers, all very well mannered.  I've mentioned this before, but it is quite impressive to me to see 5 and 6 year old children look presentable, use quiet voices and polite words, sit properly and share nicely.  British (and French) children seem to really have this level of decorum down pat.  (In fact, I find myself wanting to call them "children" instead of "kids".)

After a round of classic British kids' party snacks (sausages, scotch eggs, cheese curls), the kids had little pink cupcakes topped with jelly beans and dolly mixtures.  I read online that children are usually given a piece of birthday cake wrapped in a napkin and placed in the party bag.  Since we had cupcakes, I bought these little cupcake pods--what a neat innovation.  Grandma, Grandpa and I had fun assembling them.  Anna did the final inspection.

Cupcakes in their pods

 Decopatch with Decorum

Rules about Tea

There are distinct and unspoken rules about tea in England.  Tea has been served for centuries here, often multiple times a day.  It is simple, straightforward and relaxing.  If you're an outsider to the tradition, enjoy the ritual as-is.  

1. It will be offered to you upon arrival at someone's house.  
2. Say, "Yes, please.  That sounds lovely." unless for some reason you are in a hurry in which case something apologetic like "I'd love to but I'm sorry that I am on my way to get my kidneys removed" would be acceptable. Don't ask what type of tea.  There is only one kind.  (Herbal "tea" = not tea)
3. Your tea will be brewed by your host.  Do not micromanage.
4. Your tea will come with milk.  From a cow.  Lactose intolerance doesn't exist in this country.  (No cow's milk in "tea" = not tea)
5. You might be offered sugar.  Say "No, thank you".  
6. Corollary to #5.  If another person (well-ensconced British person only) takes sugar with their tea, you could instead say "Yes, please."  
7. If participating in #6, only take a small amount of sugar.  (Sugar = not tea unless corollary applies; large amounts of sugar = not tea)
8. You may be offered something called "a biscuit".  Think cookie, not KFC.
9. Do not take more than one biscuit unless offered.
10. Drink, relax and enjoy the conversation.

Sunday Dinner

Yo, don't mess with my Sunday dinner

The tradition of Sunday dinner in England is very grounding.   Families gather around the table for a traditional roast meal--some type of meat, roast potatoes, yorkshire pudding, brussel sprouts or broccoli, mashed root vegetables.  The meal varies a bit each week, but the general predictability of the food provides a sense of warmth and stability.  Hectic Mondays are cushioned by cold roast leftovers in the evening whether in sandwich form or reconfigured into bubble and squeak (leftovers fried together).

Sunday dinner is a nice way to slow down before the rush of the next week, and a good excuse to get together with family on a regular basis.  We occasionally invite relatives over for a Sunday meal here (and vice versa)--the wonderful thing is, there's no decision about what day of the week and limited decisions about what we should make or what people will eat.

Similarly, when invited to someone's house, you are always offered a cup of tea and you are never asked what type.  Life is much easier.

Morning Social Exchanges

Today is an amazingly beautiful day in England.  It is cool and very sunny and the birds are singing.  It feels like spring in January.  I've actually moved my laptop to the dining room window to soak in the warmth and Vitamin D.

The walk up to the school was nice; Anna and I warmed Michael's hands in ours at his request.  As usual, there was a string of "Morning!"s to various families we passed.  I like the way "Good Morning" is said with the "Good" assumed and just the melodic, "Moh-neeng!"  Anna and I have somewhat perfected the greeting like locals, not really on purpose, it just sort of comes out that way.  Anyhow, the kids and I chatted about having burgers tonight after I saw a Jamie Oliver cooking show.  Had a nice chat with a couple of mums at the school gates, one of whom recommended Centre Parcs for log cabin-style, amenity filled camping.  (My type of camping).

After stopping home, I walked down the little path and to the local convenience shop and butcher shop for burger ingredients and some basics.  The owner of the convenience store is always a delight to chat with.  As I shopped, we chatted about his weekend with family biking in Thurstaston, whether shops like this exist in America, the beauty of village life, the role of the EU/France in influencing people to work less.  I also asked him about Alpen (a muesli)  and he highly recommended the no added sugar, so I went with that.

I popped over to Fred the butcher's and was greeted by Fred himself and an older man buying some meat.  I asked for mince beef for 4 generous sized burgers and the other customer looked over and smiled, "You know his portions are always generous" and Fred said, "Just like me all the way around" (gesturing to his portly stature).  He talked briefly about Christmas and his wife having a bad cold and I relayed that I had that for over a month.  I love that shop because it feels like Trumpton or Postman Pat.   It's tiny, old fashioned, little exchanges, smiles, laughs.  While buying the mince, I also picked up a head of lettuce, 1 tomato and 2 apples.  The man after me had 1 carrot on the counter.  Very simple, just what you need, no waste.

I didn't stop in the Village Shop to get the newspaper today because I'm off to help in Michael's class soon, but that would also typically be a warm exchange.  The kids and I ran into a mum and friend from the school there after school on Wednesday which launched into a nice conversation.  We also saw a friend of the girls' pull up in a car with his grandma.  The grandma parked and left him in the car while she ran into a shop which seemed so 1950's and not of the modern age.  But this is the town we live in.

In short, village life is really lovely.  It feels good for the soul.