Day Trip and Other News

Yesterday after Sarah's swim class we drove to nearby Bury St. Edmunds to explore a bit and have lunch. The city is smaller than Ipswich but still quite sizeable. We mostly walked its high streets.





This church and the building below it seemed to be the architectural highlights of the city.





This afternoon Sarah had another birthday party to attend. Her social life is more active than either of her parents'. She wore a pirate costume, given a choice (in the invitation) between that and a princess outfit, so with Margo's help they came up with a costume from found materials. Kids' birthday parties follow a cultural pattern, and costumes are a part of it; maybe Margo can write more about it since she's made several deliveries to birthday parties so far.

But with Sarah occupied for a few hours in the afternoon, we had free time to ourselves, and thereby we had our first civilised, adult meal in the UK at a fine restaurant along the Ipswich waterfront. Finally, we have found a restaurant with food better than Margo's! I'm sure there are more in Ipswich; it's just that we haven't had the time to explore places with food that's nicer than chicken sticks, thanks to the plebian tastes of our third member.

More London Tourism

Last night I stayed a bit after work and took a long walk, across the Barbican to St. Paul's Cathedral, then across the Millennium footbridge to the Tate Modern, where I chose not to pay £10 for the Gilbert and George exhibit but did visit the surrealists and Dali again, and then walked along the Thames to the London Eye and caught the 5 o'clock chimes of Big Ben, after which I turned around and walked back. It was fun, but it was sort of a lark and I didn't have a camera, so there's not much to share.

Today is different. Today I'd taken a vacation day and I spent the day in London as a tourist. I've been making a list of places to see and today I got to check some off my list. And I did bring the camera so I have pictures to share.

I started my day as usual by taking the 5:53 train to London, but got off a stop early in Stratford. From there I took the Docklands Light Rail, a sister of the London Underground, down to Canary Wharf, a business district that houses a cluster of some of London's tallest buildings, including One Canada Square, the UK's tallest. However, it's further downstream on the Thames and not in the central City (I see it in the distance as my train enters the City), so it takes an extra trip to get there.





The site is unusual. There are two levels: an upper for pedestrian and some auto access, and lower, where there's more auto access and some waterfront (the site is mostly surrounded by canals from the Thames). The towers cluster around a few plazas, and there's a large shopping centre beneath one of the plazas.

I had breakfast watching everyone else going to work. Then I took the Underground across town to South Kensington. I hadn't really planned it that way, but the rest of my day turned out to be on foot.

I made my way to Brompton Road, which has some high street shopping. On the way I passed the Victoria and Albert museum and considered dropping in - there was a show on surrealist furniture, and another on Kylie Minogue's show outfits - but it was about 9 am and the museum wasn't yet open. Further down the street, I'd hoped to visit Harrods, but they didn't open until 10 so I was once again out of luck. I did see window displays, though - they have a rock theme with mannequins posing with some famous instruments including one of Jimi Hendrix's guitars.



From there I walked to Hyde Park, one of the larger city parks, similar to New York's Central Park. The Live 8 concert was anchored here, as soon will be another global concert, this one organized by Al Gore for environmental causes.





I walked across to Park Lane, whose buildings again reminded me of New York - tall tenements facing the park. I started seeing some in-building auto dealerships - MINI, BMW, and later Porsche, Bentley and Rolls Royce. (This is the Mayfair neighbourhood, one of London's priciest.) The first time I saw a car dealership without a car lot was in the Yaletown neighbourhood of Vancouver and I thought it was a great idea. But now that I think of it, I haven't seen a single petrol station in all of London, though of course they must exist. And you never see parking lots, either - it's all underground. I even see free spaces on the street. I don't think anyone in our office drives to work. It just isn't practical, especially given the transportation alternatives.

Walking through Mayfair, most of the parked vehicles I saw were exotics or other uncommonly expensive rides. Housing is terraced but must be really pricey. I walked past Berekeley Square (where I understand a nightingale once sang) to Old Bond Street, then down to Piccadilly and, behind it, Jermyn Street, a slightly lower-rent sibling of Saville Row (which is only a few blocks away). Many of the shops on Jermyn are now chained out around town. I once bought a £25 shirt at the Liverpool Street train station from a store based in Jermyn Street. This statue of famed dandy Beau Brummell honors the street's sartorial history.



I also wandered through the Piccadilly Arcade, connecting Piccadilly and Jermyn streets. There are a few other arcades nearby also.



A bit down the street I encountered Fortnum & Mason, which I suppose could be called a department store as it sells a variety of goods, but much of it is focused on select foods. Margo would enjoy seeing it, and as such I picked up some marmalade for her and Sarah.

Next was Piccadilly Circus and its famous signage.



And from here it wasn't far to Leicester Square. There are several cinemas in the Square, and I was pleased to see that one of them was showing Hot Fuzz, today being the premiere, so I got a ticket for the 12:00 show. (I don't think this has come out in the States yet. Nyeah nyeah.) I had time to get the lunch (fish and chips, what a surprise) before the movie.



I laughed until I cried. I haven't been to the cinema much but I was looking forward to this one. It was even more enjoyable since I now have a better understanding of small-town English life. I especially loved the sound effects, the silly woofer-moving whumps they put in to make Dramatic Moments out of silly things like slapping change on a counter. They definitely raided the Tony Scott/Jerry Bruckheimer book of tricks and made them look even sillier.

From Leicester Square, it's a short walk to Trafalgar Square, and in passing the National Portrait Gallery, I noticed there was a showing of portraits of the Pet Shop Boys, so I had to drop in and see that.

And from Trafalgar, I did the Strand, walking it east and through the Covent Garden high street shops and past the Savoy Theatre.



Strand became Fleet Street as I continued on. Ever heard of Twinings Tea? Here's their storefront, which they've been using since about 1706.



I actually walked past it at first without even noticing it. And a few doors down is The George, a historical pub that hosted famous drinkers including Samuel Johnson, who temporarily used it as a mailing address.



So of course I had to stop in.



Still further down Fleet Street I saw The Gherkin and St. Paul's Cathedral, so I knew I was nearly back in the Square Mile, my familiar work neighbourhood.



From St. Paul's I followed my path last night through the Barbican. I have to take a moment to try and describe it, because it's an unusual site. It's a few square blocks, with some residential towers and blocks (I'm guessing at least some is affordable housing). There's also a performance centre, a school for girls, an art gallery, and at least one restaurant. All in a massive concrete environment, with large water features, that reminds me of the lair of a James Bond villain.



By the way, much of the walkway around the Barbican and nearby is elevated, and some follows the path of the London Wall, the wall that once surrounded the city of London. Nearby neighbourhoods like Broadgate, Moorgate and Bishopsgate were once gates in the wall.

And from there I continued to Liverpool Street station, where I noticed, replaying the walk I usually take at the same time each day, that today I wasn't feeling as spent as I usually do, and so I enjoyed it.

School Holiday

Sarah is on school holiday this week. Plus Monday. Her school schedule has one single-week break every term, plus two weeks between terms. That's at least seven weeks of break, not including summer break.

It's more time off than Margo or I get from our jobs, so we've found another option: break camps. These are often run by city councils in their recreation departments. Margo is taking Sarah to one in Colchester this week. Sarah gets to swim in the pool for an hour a day, plus there's gymnastics and other activities, and she's fed too. We may also look for a weeklong summer camp for this summer.

Costs

The pound is really strong right now. Almost worth two US dollars. I'd have thought it was the highest currency in the world, but someone informed me it's only about the sixth; the higher ones are all oil-exporting countries, though.

This past Christmas lots of English went to America, especially New York, on holiday, and often shopping was a big reason. It's hard for me to imagine how New York could be a cheap holiday playground. The US and the Continent are great destinations for British shopping, especially for small, expensive things like electronics.

But as a result Brits have one of the highest costs of living in the world too. We do pretty well in Ipswich but London is crazy. A former janitor's closet in Chelsea, 11' x 7', sold for about £170k recently, and it doesn't even have windows. Even with our two incomes, I doubt we could live comfortably in London, certainly not in the City. Most people my age couldn't expect to buy a flat by themselves; it's much more common to buy with others.

You'd think with the dollar at about half the value of the pound, that prices here should be roughly half what they are in the States, but that's not the case. In some cases, they're even equal. For real estate and autos, the price differences are pretty linear, but for lower-cost items there's a lot of inconsistency. Here are some comparison prices based on things in my universe (note: prices are not guaranteed to be perfectly accurate or current because I am too lazy to look them up).

Item	$US	£UK
Song downloaded from iTunes	.99	.79
New compact disc	15	12
Men's dress shirt	25	45
Winter gas bill	100	60
Casual family dinner	40	30
Sandwich, crisps, canned drink for takeout	7	5
Burger, chips, pint at lunchtime	15	10
Sonicare toothbrush	100	100

You might also think there would be certain types of items that are disproportionately cheaper in the UK, but I can't think of any.

Last week I read an article about the UK pricing of the Playstation 3. A Sony representative was asked why it was so much higher in the UK than the US. He replied that a big part of it was the VAT (value-added tax), but the reporter countered that even with US sales tax factored in, the UK price was still disproportionately higher. The Sony guy confessed that they have to pay their UK workers more because of the higher cost of living, and that also factored into the higher prices.

Now that we're earning pounds, we don't compare prices as much, but when we were still spending dollars, it was depressing to think about how much more we were actually paying for things.

Haunted by Portland

Sure, The Gossip's latest album has been out for a while, but it was only about a month ago that the NME named Beth Ditto the Coolest Person in the World. She was also recently on the cover of The Guardian's Sunday magazine, and last Sunday she peered at us from her Portland kitchen on the cover of The Observer's Food Monthly magazine. This month I'm reading good reviews of new albums from The Shins and The Decemberists.

But yesterday was the last straw: I picked up the new Uncut magazine, whose free sampler CD includes a new track from Richmond Fontaine called The Kid from Belmont Street ... now that's really rubbing it in.

I'm looking forward to next month when Sleater-Kinney release You'd Be A Fool To Move Away From Portland.

Mike's Night in Soho

Tonight I took my Thursday Night Out to run an errand and do some exploring in London.

From Liverpool Street I took the Central Line to Oxford Circus, heading down Regent Street to my first destination: the Apple Store, where I got a radio tuner for our iPod. One of the things I've been keen to experience is UK radio.

Then, barely a block away, I walked the length of Saville Row (it's a short walk). There was shop after shop of bespoke tailors given men's names like Rupert Greene and James Cromwell (I made those up). Some even sold cloth by the yard. And ... you know how discount stores have clothes crammed into every nook, and boutique shops have hardly any clothes on display? And that the logical culmination would be a store that has just one item of clothing, and it's so expensive that to buy it would keep the store going another month? Well, I passed a store like that. Floor to ceiling windows. All white, brightly lit. No colours. Not even signage. I honestly didn't know the name of the store. And against the back wall - there weren't even racks or shelves - but against the back wall were a few dozen items. On hangers. And they were all black. I picked a bad day to walk Saville Row, too: I'd taken my bike to the Ipswich station so here I was walking around in my grey Oregon Columbia Omni-Tech Titanium weatherproof jacket. I should be glad the bobbies weren't called after me.

Then I doubled back across Regent Street (not far from Trafalgar Square) to my next destination for Dedicated Followers of Fashion: Carnaby Street. This is a pedestrian-only high street, and again, not a very long walk. In contrast, the shops were much more mainstream (plebian?): surfwear, sportswear, things teens would buy, plus some pubs and restaurants, including one I remembered named Shakespeare's Head, and sure enough, above its corner entrance, looking down from a window, is Shakespeare's Head. (I've learned that the reason pubs are given names like The Flying Rat and The Brown Cow and having a picture of the same prominently displayed is that it gave illiterate patrons a better chance of finding it.) This walk took me to Oxford Street, where I ended up at the HMV megastore to do a bit of music shopping.

Now at this point I will digress a bit about music shopping in the UK. Since my earliest college days I've had the good fortune to always be living in cities that boasted fine independent record shops, and my collection has been growing constantly as a result. Give me some free time, and chances are good you'd find me in a record shop. I've been especially spoiled by Portland shops like Everyday Music and Music Millennium with in-store stocks of thousands of CDs.

The UK is disappointing in this regard. I visited Avalanche Records in Edinburgh and Glasgow; the stocks were nice but quite small, barely in the hundreds. Months ago I trekked out to Notting Hill and visited the legendary Rough Trade off Portobello Road: the store was tiny, with barely enough room to walk around, much less browse in comfort. I was a bit more impressed with Sister Ray in Soho, but it's still nothing like the shops I've been used to. Independent record stores are in crisis in the UK: it's hard to survive against online retailers and the big two high street shops, HMV and Virgin, plus CDs sold for discount at places like Woolworths and Tesco. Several of the record shops I've researched online have since closed down, and Spillers Records in Cardiff (claiming to be the world's oldest record store) is fighting closure.

I used to get the biggest satisfaction buying used CDs for $8.50, $6, even $4.25. It's cheaper than buying per-song online, plus you get the full, uncompressed music, with no digital rights management. Used CDs here are more expensive: maybe £7-8 apiece, just a few pounds less than new releases (usually £10-11). Instead, the bargains I've seen are in HVM and Virgin, and they come in two forms. There are greatest-hits packages, and what seem to be overstock. So, for example, I've scooped up compilations of singles by The Who and The Kinks and Roxy Music, as well as classics from Pulp, Genesis, and The Smiths, for about £4-5 each.

So that's how I ended up with a £5 collection of Joe Jackson singles at HMV, plus something I've been looking for for quite a while, and not finding at any of the aforementioned indie stores: Where The Night Goes by Infantjoy, an ambient electronica exploration of the music of classical composer Erik Satie. Infantjoy includes Paul Morley of the Art of Noise, and I enjoyed AoN's exploration of Debussy's music in, um, The Seduction of Claude Debussy, so I'm looking forward to listening to this one.

On the train ride back to Ipswich, I raided the buffet car to get a BLT sandwich and a can of Strongbow cider, then I prised open the bulletproof Apple packaging of the radio tuner (why can't their packaging be as friendly as their products?) and started browsing the FM dial from London to Ipswich, picking up XFM, BBC Radio 1 through 4, BBC Radio Essex, SGR Colchester, and BBC Radio Suffolk.