Happy New Year! (from Vicki)
Happy New Year, everyone! Welcome to 2016. It’s good to be back—back writing for Gurus, and back from a trip that proved to be one of the most fulfilling ever.
Last summer, my husband and I quite impulsively decided to sign up for a maiden voyage that would take us from Southampton to Miami in late fall. Crossing the Atlantic in November? What could go wrong? It honestly didn’t even occur to me to be apprehensive. Yet, I was truly amazed by the number of friends who felt compelled to remind us what had happened to the Titanic. I guess they thought we didn’t know—and that once we found out, we would reconsider. Not a chance. The cruise proved to be delightful—neither frightening nor dangerous (and even included some startlingly warm weather)—but the bonus for me was the dazzling five days we spent London, anticipating the cruise and seeing the sights. Samuel Johnson once said that when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life. I think to anyone who’s been there, those words will ring true. Here are just a few highlights from an all-too-quick five days.
We stayed at a hotel called the W, located just north of Trafalgar Square, adjacent to Chinatown. The W is flanked by casinos, coffee houses, and a candy store the size of Macy’s. Hence, the sidewalks swarm with foot traffic night and day. It doesn’t look like a hotel at all, so unless you’re a registered guest, you could very well walk right by, searching for the entrance. In a city of brick and stone, the W is wrapped in a silvery blue cocoon of frosted glass that makes it look less like a hotel and more like something out of Dr. Zhivago. The location—well, unless you can afford to be right smack on the Thames—is ideal. It’s within walking distance of countless favorite tourist destinations, restaurants, shops, wine bars, parks, and more.
Inside, the W is beautifully decorated, and spotlessly clean. It is run by some of the friendliest and most courteous hotel staff I’ve ever encountered. The Brits have impeccable manners. What’s distinctive about this hotel, however, is that it caters—according to the staff members themselves, who shared this in a conspiratorial whisper—to Millennials. I didn’t know quite what this meant or why they felt they had to share this insider’s knowledge until I stepped into our room. Ah. Contemporary doesn’t do it justice. It’s right out of Star Trek. The room is tiny and makes maximum use of space, so shelves and cubby holes abound, though they’re often camouflaged, and most furniture serves dual functions. A chair might double as a cupboard. The artwork and lamps are interchangeable. If it doesn’t glow, it’s probably art. The snack bar is a barrel. Think about it. Round shapes hold more. Mirrors everywhere create the illusion of spaciousness, and although this definitely works, it can be disarming to see yourself continuously. The bed is low, so it helps if you haven’t been cheating on your yoga. The lights and heating/cooling are all run from a central panel right by the entry. You want to practice before going to bed because it’s easy to get up at 3, feel your way to the panel, hit the wrong button, and instantly transform the entire room into a blinding display.
There is no bathroom. Oh, there are facilities—they just aren’t located in a room. The toilet is in one tiny closet with a door that swings open. If you’re modest, well, you need to get over it—or maybe just write “occupied” on a Post-It and slap it on the mirrored door. The light is on a timer, and you have only two minutes from the time you swing the door open before the light goes out. That’s fast. And let me say, it gets very dark in there. The shower is in the adjacent closet. Or, to be more precise: The adjacent closet IS a shower. The closet door IS the shower door. Towels hang from a center island—right smack in the middle of the dressing/eating/hair-styling/living/sitting area. You step out of the shower into the midst of everything and drip your way to the towel rod—hoping anyone sitting there is a good buddy.
Face it. We’re boomers, my husband and I. We love cozy corners with fuzzy throws and books, lights you can turn on and off from your reading chair, bathrooms with doors, and towels you can reach without waving hello to the company. Somehow, I think the W folks knew all that. But never mind. Though my vision of luxury is different from that of the W designers, travel is much more about adventure than about comfort—or at least it should be. Plumbing that works, clean quarters, comfortable bed, courteous staff. Check, check, check, check. I’ll go back to the W any time I get the chance. W staff, thanks for an incredibly good (and comic) time.
Of course, out-and-about London is where the real fun begins. We rode the Big Red Bus on the long tour, and enjoyed every second—even though passengers who heard us going “Ahhhhhh!” might have thought differently. We sat in the front seat, which allowed us to see how perilously close our bus was coming not only to other buses, but to cars, bikers, and pedestrians as well. Maybe an inch really is as good as a mile. At any rate, the native Londoners never looked alarmed, which was reassuring, so we got quieter as the ride went on.
The narrative on the bus is fascinating. We learned, among other things, that the Brits of old, while still mannerly, could also be a bloody bunch, routinely hanging people in public, sometimes hundreds on a given day. Each condemned man or woman was allowed to make a farewell speech, though no cursing or defamation of royalty was allowed—as that would be unseemly. Perhaps the best thing about the Big Red Bus is that you can hop on and off at will, making it easily the cheapest, fastest way to get to points of interest, such as the Tower of London, Abbey Road, or St. Paul’s Cathedral.
A Touch of Shakespeare
How can you visit London without seeing Shakespeare’s Globe Theater? We couldn’t. It’s not the original, naturally—that burned in 1613. But it’s a striking new edition, located just blocks from where the original stood, and authentic inside and out, with the same heavy beams, winding wooden stairways, open air balconies, and majestic front-and-center stage visible from everywhere. Tours are led by members of the Globe acting company, who are incredibly well informed, animated, responsive to all comments and questions, and (at least in our case, with Kristin) hilariously funny.
Kristin informed us that the original theater had no restrooms. Remarkably, no one saw the need. They drank flagons of beer, however, since admission to the theater was only a penny, and for a penny more you could get a drink. Or you could bring your own and really economize. Those who stood on the ground in front of the stage (and that was the majority of viewers) simply relieved themselves on the spot—which of course, made for damp, malodorous conditions. Lavender, thyme, and other fragrant herbs were scattered abundantly to help compensate.
How many people were injured when the original Globe burned? Kristin had us all guessing, but none of us were correct. The answer is none. Not one soul. However, three cloaks were burned and that made the London papers the following morning. Clothing was extraordinarily valuable in the 1600s. One poor fellow’s britches caught fire also, but he was quickly doused with beer—and luckily, that moment of indignity saved both him and the britches.
Wine, Candles, Kipling, and Dickens
On the recommendation of our good friend and my co-author, Jeff Hicks, we took time to seek out Gordon’s Wine Bar (gordonswinebar.com), located off Trafalgar Square, just up from the Thames River. Jeff had assured us that visiting here was less about wine than about the experience, and he couldn’t have been more right (even though the wine list is long enough to rival a phone directory). To enter, you go down rather steep stairs, and at first you cannot see a thing—including your feet. The whole place (except for the bar itself, which boasts one dim light) is lit by candles—small, well-used ones at that—so it takes some time for your eyes to adjust. Gordon’s is a cave, basically. It’s mostly stone—ceiling, walls, and floor, though there are a few wooden walls decorated with print memorabilia, some quite old.
The place opened in 1890, and is situated in Kipling House, home to Samuel Pepys in the 1680s. Both Rudyard Kipling and G.K. Chesterton are said to have written some of their works in the bar’s little parlor. It’s easy to imagine writers getting inspired in this place. Owners now describe it as Dickensian, but Alexandre Dumas also comes to mind. It is deliciously, irresistibly atmospheric, with funky wooden tables and chairs, none of them matching. Ceilings are low, and hazardous to those over 5’10”. I held my breath as one fairly tall, bald gentleman strolled happily by juggling several full glasses of wine.
If you enjoy good cheese, this is definitely your haunt. They boast numerous varieties (brie, chevre, dambuster, taleggio, Cotswold, gouda, cheddar, emmentaler, gruyere—my personal favorite—stilton, gorgonzola, and camembert, among others) and are happy to help you pair just the right wine with your selections. We came for lunch, so two slices of cheese sounded about right. Little did we know that at Gordon’s a “slice” is four ounces. And did I mention it comes with a small loaf of French bread? No one leaves hungry. In fact, if you clean your plate, it can be hard to leave at all. (We very nearly missed the production of “Wicked.” We had to run most of the way, which was cursedly uncomfortable, but probably in the end a good idea.) Gordon’s does not accept reservations, so it’s best to arrive on time. We got there just as the doors opened and for a few quiet minutes had our pick of inviting tables—all of which seemed to be tucked into cozy corners. Within less than an hour the place was packed and laughter was echoing off the stone walls. Thanks, Jeff, for one of the best recommendations ever.
These days, any trip to London demands riding on the London Eye, one of the world’s tallest Ferris wheels.
Lines are long, but if you reserve ahead, you can skip right to the reception desk and pick up your ticket—definitely the way to go. We did the champagne tour, which was more than worth the extra money. Instead of standing in a long queue, we waited in a beautiful lounge on a comfy couch, and were then escorted right through the crowds and onto the Eye.
The wheel never stops unless someone requires assistance getting on, so you step right on as it’s moving—thankfully, at a slow pace. It takes a half hour to do one rotation, and that’s the whole ride unless you make special arrangements. Each gondola is like a huge glass egg in a metal frame, and holds about 25 people, though our group included only 15 or so, making it easy to move about and take pictures. Seating is available in the center, but only those with the most acute acrophobia could tear themselves away from the spectacular views. Most of us were pressed right against the glass for the full half hour, as our guide Elvis pointed out various landmarks.
At the very top, you perch 450 feet above the Thames. From there, you can see nearly 30 miles in all directions. Several friends had told me they would never take this ride because they’re afraid of heights. Actually, the ride is both exhilarating and relaxing—and moves at such a leisurely pace that when you view the wheel from the Westminster Bridge, you can barely see it move. I was only fully aware of any motion as the ride neared its finish and I dreaded getting off. Gondolas are available for rent (two hours, or four rotations) to anyone wanting to celebrate a birthday or other special occasion . . . just saying, in case my husband is reading this . . .
Some Thoughts About Letters
Over the holidays, you may have spent some time thinking of what to give someone you love. It seems to me that one of the most thoughtful and personal of all gifts is also among the simplest—a letter.
This year, I received a number of letters, including a few form letters, but many emailed, typed, or handwritten just to me. Some were just a few lines—others went on for pages. They were filled with anecdotes, humorous moments, recipes (!), words of encouragement, and surprises. Each was a gift. Sue’s family had just welcomed two new grandchildren, while Becky’s was expecting the newest family member any day. Donna’s photos of her granddaughter (18 months) applying lipstick for the first time had me laughing uproariously. Leila made my mouth water as she described the elaborate Hawaiian and Japanese food she’d be cooking up for a holiday party. Bob and Kathie had just moved. Susan had a new job. Gail and Bill had adopted a rescue dog they named Boxit—because she’s been abused and so “boxes” herself in corners to feel safe. I wish them—and Boxit—all the best. And Sally wrote an inspiring letter, encouraging me to travel more, reminding me of Mary Oliver’s words: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” Those words hung round me brighter than a golden necklace all holiday season, and made me feel as if I could go—well, anywhere. Isn’t that how great teachers always make you feel?
Letter writing in the classroom is enjoying a hearty revival, and one I welcome because it is among the best ways to encourage voice. Here in Central Oregon, middle school students are participating in the Great American Mail Race. Language Arts students in Becky Aylor’s classes have written to more than 180 schools across the country—just this year. Some have written to students as far away as Greece, Turkey, Germany, and even China. They write their drafts longhand, then word process final drafts with help from 1:1 Chromebook and a computer program called Google Translate that can, with the click of a button, translate English text into any of numerous languages.
According to Aylor, the purpose of the race is to see who can receive the most responses—or a response from farthest away. As might be expected, the project not only increases students’ interest in writing, but also prompts discussions about geography, history, culture, and other topics. For many students (and this shouldn’t surprise us, really), this is the first encounter with the art of letter writing. They’ve never written one—never received one, either. They talk about basics like how to write an address properly, but also deeper concerns, like the value of a letter to the recipient.*
So . . . just a thought as we begin 2016. Lots of you will no doubt make holiday resolutions—save more money, work out routinely, read more . . . lose weight! All noble goals. But here’s one resolution you can keep for sure, with the knowledge it will touch someone’s life. Write at least one heart-felt letter to someone, anyone, who might love to receive it (and that’s nearly everybody). It is one of the truest ways to show love, friendship, compassion, or concern. It only takes a little time. And in this day of quick texting, an honest to goodness letter you can hold in your hands is a real treasure.
A few decades ago, a wise man named Garrison Keillor wrote an essay called “How to Write a Letter” (easy to find online, and well worth the search). In the long-gone days when writing assessment was an actual human activity, I used to read that essay aloud to raters who understood that students, like letter writers, were giving of themselves by putting their words on paper, and that such gifts must be honored. I especially loved Keillor’s closing remarks—“Probably your friend will put your letter away, and it’ll be read again a few years from now—and it will improve with age. And forty years from now your friend’s grandkids will dig it out of the attic and read it, a sweet and precious relic of the ancient eighties that gives them a sudden clear glimpse of you and her and the world we old-timers knew. You will then have created an object of art. Your simple lines about where you went, who you saw, what they said, will speak to those children and they will feel in their hearts the humanity of our times.”
* If you’d like more details about the Great Race project, please check NuggetNewspaper.com, and search “Keeping letter writing alive in Sisters.” Special thanks to Correspondent Erin Borla, from whose November 25 article this information was taken.
This is a new feature we’ll be including with most posts in 2016. Books listed here are not ones we’ll be reviewing on Gurus. They’re just recommended for your own personal, leisurely reading—and we urge you to look them up online for more information or to see what other readers have said:
- The Secret Wisdom of the Earth by Christopher Scotton
- The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah
Coming Up on Gurus . . .
Jeff is keeping busy teaching 5th graders and also teaching middle school math just for variety. We can be sure he’s also reading, however, so he’ll soon have books to share.
If you’ve ever attended any of my workshops, you’re likely a fan of Sneed Collard. I toted many of Sneed’s outstanding nonfiction books (Animal Dads, Pocket Babies, The Deep Sea Floor, and others) from Alaska to Florida, Maine to Hawaii. Those familiar with Sneed’s incredible body of work will be pleased to know that I will be reviewing his new autobiography Snakes, Alligators, and Broken Hearts: Journeys of a Biologist’s Son. If you’re not a fan yet, please take time to look him up online or on Amazon. The sheer volume of his writing is impressive—and will make you look forward to discovering how this talented writer got his inspiration.
Thank you for returning—and for recommending our site to friends. We are gaining new fans all the time, and we have you to thank! Remember, for the BEST workshops or innovative classroom demo lessons combining traits, workshop, process and literature, please phone Jeff at 503-579-3034. Give every child a voice.