Holy Brit!

Oh, London, why did I stay away so long?

And, no! I did not bring back this incredibly grumpy weather!  It’s now been five times across the pond for me and each trip has been marked by perfect weather – it never rains while I’m in London - obviously the city has a true affinity to me and my finicky hair.  Thank you, London, thank you.

Now, I’m a big city girl at heart and no big city gets to my heart like London.  This is a BIG statement, I know, but it is so true.  There is a majesty and grandeur in the city that is impossible to replicate anywhere, and, yes, that includes New York because what London has that New York doesn’t is a sense of order and civility amidst a city bursting at the seams in all high point action:  culture; fashion; politics; music; history.  It’s a perpetual mindblow, yet you never feel overwhelmed, jostled or simply pushed around.  It’s clean and proper yet edgy and fresh.  Modern and traditional.  Multicultural and unmistakenly British.  The dichotomies are endless and fascinating.  It’s Everything.  Everything.  

The best part of this specific trip was being able to see it, as if for the first time, with my Mom.  It was her big 6-0 birthday gift from us and (lucky me) played tour guide for four days.  This was an all encompassing job – filled with the pressure of making all the decisions, navigating the wondrous Tube and also dealing with Mom’s never-get-excited-ness.  I didn’t want to spend the trip trying to wow her, trying to have her see what I saw in this amazing city, but I also didn’t want her disappointed.  You can’t force these things, so I did my best to play things low key (hard for over-excitable me) and crossed my fingers she’d see the light. Well, testament to this amazing city, my never-gets-excited-Mom was, and I quote, “impressed” with London.  I mean, that should say it all, right?  This is truly the equivalent of being touched by the hand of God.  Impressed!  Of course she was!  It's London! Victory!

She loved the cleanliness, the people (even if she didn’t understand a word they were saying, she loved listening to them all the same), the shopping, the sites (although the Crown Jewels were “nothing special” Nothing special!) the buzz and busy-ness.  Wandering around Soho and Covent Garden with her was a treat, more so wandering the grounds of Kensington Palace, listening to her oral history, including personal commentary, on the Royals – quite illuminating.  The British Museum and a look-see at the Parthenon Galleries offered an interesting perspective on the “bring them back” debate that the Greeks have been waging for years (Greece wants the bits of the Parthenon back).  Mom says shut it - Greeks should be honoured that the Brits have dedicated an enormous part of their museum for these foundations of history, more people go to London, so more people will see them there.  Huh, good point, Mom.  We had some pints, saw a show (with the extremely tall Rupert Everett and his new face!), went to Jamie Oliver’s, walked until we couldn’t anymore and were amazed at how much Greek we heard around the city (which actually sucked because what’s the point of having a secret language when everyone else can speak it too?). 

All in all, a great birthday trip for a great, great lady and a perfect reenergizing trip for me.

So, what's wrong then?  Not wrong, per se, more a curiosity: you see, when I think of London what first pops into my mind is always Covent Garden, at Christmastime.  My mental image sees snow and the city is lit up and it’s so festive -  it’s so perfectly Christmas.  This isn’t a real image though, it’s made in the movies, Love Actually & Bridget Jones, to be exact, and it’s a sham – I’ve never been to London at Christmas (just as I’ve never been to New York in the Spring).  This is wrong.  So, so wrong.  It's imperative I head across the pond to give London a true reckoning:  my favourite city, at my favourite time of year. 

Who is coming with me?