20 Years On…the Lockerbie Legacy

It’s been more than six months since I took this picture at the Ravenshill Hotel in Lockerbie, Scotland. The occasion was a banquet, to celebrate the honor these two young women from Lockerbie had received. They are Syracuse University’s 2008-09 Lockerbie Scholars, chosen for their character, accomplishments and academic integrity.

L to R: Lockerbie Academy Rector Graham Herbert, Lauren Flynn, Kirsty Liddon and Peter Leuner, Director of SU’s London Centre

Lauren and Kirsty, the benefactors of an academic bond forged between Syracuse University and Lockerbie after the Pan Am 103 tragedy, are studying in Syracuse now, and their presence here is especially uplifting this December. It was 20 years ago that terrorists bombed the plane that landed on their Scottish village. 20 years since 35 SU students, returning from a London Study Abroad semester, died in that attack. The Lockerbie Scholars had not yet been born when fire rained down on their town.

All this comes together today, December 3rd, 2008. Yes, the tragic anniversary  and somber remembrances come also in December. But the ray of hope that beams through this wonderful academic honor also shines tonight on two Newhouse professors. Larry “Doc” Mason and Melissa Chessher were toasted by Newhouse School colleagues on the publication of their book, Looking for Lockerbie.

Here’s part of the Amazon.com description of this beautifully-photographed book: Over the course of 12 years and multiple trips, photography professor Larry Mason Jr. and magazine professor Melissa Chessher brought more than 50 students to capture this town in images and words. Through stunning photography and personal vignettes, “Looking for Lockerbie” introduces the world to some of Lockerbie’s most engaging personalities and places.

As someone who enjoyed a lovely weekend meeting the friendly, down-to-earth residents of this bucolic area, I can attest to the inspiration one finds in Lockerbie. There you can certainly find memorials to the past tragedy. But the townspeople have moved forward — it’s a new day there. For more on the background of this story, here’s my previous blog post, written after our visit.

John Cleese’s take on London vs. California

As an inveterate fan of  all things Monty Python, I was delighted to happen upon founding member John Cleese’s blog. There, I found a reason to continue writing London Town — I just want to talk about it! I love London and miss it so much.

Here is John’s entry about my UK home. And by the way, here is the original Samuel Johnson quote about the city:

“When a man is tired of London he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford.”

Royal Beauty at Kew

Since Syracuse’s May has turned frigid and we’ve just returned, teeth chattering, from a windy hilltop softball game (Dana’s), I need to remember our day last week at Kew Gardens.

Dana and I strolled across the greens and enjoyed the bursts of color in the Azalea Garden and the Rhododendron Dell. I am partial to rhododendron since it’s West Virginia’s state flower. It was delightful to see my home state’s native plant, in its various forms, all the way over in England.

We also enjoyed the Palm House at the Royal Botanical Gardens. I would welcome some of the warm, humid air inside that glass house right about now. We saw palms and other exotic plants from Africa and South America. I had never seen a real coffee tree before, and we also saw a bottle-shaped palm.

This is one blog entry that really needs pictures more than words, so enjoy the slide show below.

The Big Issue

Harry and Vincent could have been members of a British rock band. Each has that cool flowing hair, the roguish wink, the Cockney accent that American girls find so cute. Vincent could have picked up the cluster of beads around his neck during a Caribbean stop on a heady world tour playing for cheering crowds.

Who knows? But the truth is, Harry and Vincent sit in the Hammersmith Broadway tube station several times a week, wearing wool caps and overcoats too warm for the weather. They are selling magazines to passers by.

Harry and Vincent are homeless.

Whatever their earlier lives were like, here they are now, working their way back. Each man is courteous and intelligent. Sure, I’ve heard Harry raise his voice a bit when clusters of commuters rush past and ignore him. “Come on, guys!” he’ll say, his voice full of frustration rather than anger.

Vincent occasionally stutters but is otherwise well-spoken and was obviously brought up with good manners. When I said goodbye to him the day before we left London, he stood up, shook my hand and offered me the traditional European kiss on each cheek.

We have gotten to know Harry and Vincent because they are Big Issue vendors. The Big Issue is a publication designed to give homeless and “vulnerably housed” Londoners a chance to sell a product and use the proceeds to build a foundation for themselves that is both economic and personally empowering.

Homeless folks are selling Big Issues all over the UK. The magazine is published by a company dedicated to ending poverty and homelessness, and there are others like it in the US and across the world (click here to see a list).

So, the next question is, is The Big Issue a good read? Yeah, I think so. Though I initially bought it from the guys just to be nice, I got my money’s worth. I read several well-written BI pieces, including interviews with REM’s Peter Buck and Michael Stipe, Robert Plant and Alison Krauss.

I will always think of Vincent and Harry as friends and neighbors. They are trying their best to make their lives better in a very difficult situation. The song All of My Days, by Alexi Murdoch, reminds me of them and their quiet struggle. Give it a listen, if you like, on this MySpace page.

I pray that these lyrics will prove true for Harry and Vincent; that everything they are working for and hoping for will be “coming into sight, as the day turns into night.”

photo courtesy of The Big Issue

We are back…

…in the USA. But I have a few more stories to tell and pictures to show, so I’ll stretch London Town beyond our four month stay.

Stay tuned! And forgive me if I ramble. Jet lag, you know…

Aaay! Look who we met!

Yep. The Fonz himself. Henry Winkler. Can you believe it?

We were spending a sunny Monday along the Thames River, fresh from a great tour of the famous WWII battleship HMS Belfast. As we enjoyed some vanilla cones next to the Tower Bridge, Chris spotted Henry strolling along the Thames walk.

We hemmed and hawed a bit about approaching him, not wanting to interrupt this major star’s solitude. But Chris did have a reason to say hello to our Happy Days favorite. Henry graduated from Emerson College, as did Chris. It seemed like a fine moment for one alum to greet another in, of all places, London.

Henry could not have been more gracious. This man is a sweetheart. He chatted with Chris for a few minutes and then beckoned for the kids to come over, even though he was in the middle of a cell phone call.

When Henry learned that Dana has read one of his children’s books, Hank Zipzer: Niagara Falls or Does It?, he grabbed her hand and gave her a kiss. He then asked Dana to give him her name and address. He is going to send her the latest Hank Zipzer book when he gets back to the US. In fact, we found out that he is London this week to meet with the publisher of his Hank Zipzer series.

Henry noted Dana’s Mets t-shirt (he said Hank’s favorite team is the Mets) and told Patrick the band on his t-shirt, Pink Floyd, is the greatest rock n’ roll band in the world.

The friendliness this great star and author showed us was just, as the British say, brilliant! What a lovely guy. And to think we just watched him in a Happy Days re-run on British TV earlier this week…

Three days in the City of Light

The City of Light was pretty dark and cloudy during our visit, but it is still easy to understand why the French give Paris that nickname. It is a metropolitan treasure of art, architecture, and good food and drink, even on a rainy day.

The train trip from London to Paris on the super-fast Eurostar took only two hours and change. The journey now gives us bragging rights to having tunneled under the ocean for 20 minutes each way (I am borderline claustrophobic, so this took a bit of courage).

My high school French classes finally paid off, as I ordered three-day Metro (subway) tickets in the native language. This is not to say that I didn’t raise a few smiles from proper garcons as I ordered pate and quiche — but I tried. My most notable faux pas was ordering “French bread” at a bakery. It didn’t occur to me at the time that only non-French speakers would call a baguette “French bread.” All of the bread made in France is, of course, French 🙂

To his credit, Patrick ordered all his meals in French. He’s gearing up for taking his first French class at Christian Brothers Academy this fall, and our dear friend Kenny taught him the language basics during his visit to us in London.

Our hotel room at the Villa Modigliani overlooked a lovely, quiet courtyard and the surrounding neighborhood offered many restaurants, street markets and shops. The rain literally dampened our sightseeing, but we hit our designated highlights — the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, the Arc d’Triomphe and Notre Dame.

The famous cathedral was a bit of a disappointment. Clumps of camera-clicking tourists shuffled by in a sort of meaningless parade. Vending machines placed around the Gothic giant spewed out coins and other souvenirs. Though there are signs asking visitors to view the cathedral quietly, people ignored the sanctity of the place and gabbed away. Outside, there were many panhandlers and other oddities, like this gentleman who was letting pigeons climb across him as if he were a statue.

Chris and I were also surprised by the amount of graffiti that scars buildings, from the train stations to even stately office buildings. It’s a shame the city doesn’t do more to prevent vandalism, considering the great treasures that reside in Paris.

Maybe someday we will return for a longer trip and enjoy a sunnier, lighter city. This small taste of Paris was worthwhile, though, and we packed away some pleasant memories.

That smile

There she was, mounted on her own special wall in the cavernous Louvre. All around her, sweaty tourists swarmed, flashing her with cameras and cellphones.  It wasn’t the dignified setting I’d expected.

I guess all great works of art are going to draw huge crowds, and that’s as it should be. It seemed pointless to have the one harried Louvre guard standing beneath the Mona Lisa, trying in vain to stop the gawkers from using their flashes.

Only art archivists know how much damage a camera flash can do to to an old oil painting. Leonardo da Vinci probably never envisioned the fan frenzy his work creates in today’s world.

La Joconde, as she’s called in French, is protected by a layer of reflective glass, as she’s been attacked with acid and a rock in the past. So it’s really not possible to get a real good look at that famous smile, with or without a camera or flash.

For the record, we didn’t use our flash to take this picture — our camera has a manner/museum setting. As you can see, though, it doesn’t really do her justice.  You can get a much better view of the Mona Lisa than we did at the Louvre in Paris by clicking here.

London Zoo

With two weeks left here in London, we’re ticking off places on our Must Do list before we leave. Though British spring weather can be unpredictable, as it is back home, spots of rain usually give way to patches of sunny, warm hours in which to explore.

Our trip to the London Zoo was one such lovely patch. What an amazing place. Situated in the city’s lush Regent’s Park, the 180-year-old park is home to just about every type of creature. We began in the Reptile House, where a scene in the first Harry Potter movie was shot (with the boa constrictors). The enormous komodo dragons were too lazy to let us get good photos of them. On the other hand, I’d be a bit afraid to look one straight in the eye, even if we were separated by very thick glass.

And look at this little guy — he is definitely laughing at us!

The Gorilla Experience was definitely a highlight of the day. The very human expressions on the gorillas’ faces were priceless, and we watched one smaller gorilla amble around in his yard, eating leaves and vegetables as he went. Inside the habitat building, two more gorillas gave us a great show as they swung on ropes and played tag.

Isn’t this giraffe a beauty?

We also managed to track down the elusive American foot long hot dog at the Zoo. But it wasn’t a total US-style eating experience. The Brits put these dogs in baguettes.

To see a short (:30 second) slide show of our new zoo friends, click here.
London Zoo Talk to the Animals from CP2E on Vimeo.

Doing more with less

It’s been four months. No car. No peanut butter. No warehouse clubs. And things are going great.

You see, our family of four has lived here in London since early January. My husband is teaching a journalism class at SU’s London Centre. We are enjoying our first winter in ten years without Syracuse’s copious snowfall.

But, as you might imagine, we are typical American consumers. We are used to stocking up at the supermarket once — maybe twice — a week. Here I’ve learned to grocery shop every day and carry everything home on foot. Here, there’s no van to load up with jumbo pack chicken pot pies, double pack jars of Jif and toilet paper to last until next Christmas. The Tesco trek is a daily chore and it is done sans shopping cart, with a small blue basket and a canvas tote.

Once the kids and I walk those goods to our flat, we cram them into a refrigerator smaller than the hot water heater in our Syracuse basement. The flat, by the way, is a lovely two-bedroom maisonette and we are comfortable here. But we are used to a bit more space.

Our Syracuse home rambles over 2,000 plus square feet and everyone has a bedroom. Here my nine and twelve year olds/ occasional mortal enemies share a room, one on the bed part of a trundle bed and one on the …well, trundle. The tiny space also holds a stuffed Mufasa from the glorious West End production of The Lion King and 531 (so far) UK football stickers plastered into a stack of books. So far, no major civil war has broken out despite the close quarters.

To be sure, my point here is that streamlining our space and belongings is a good thing for our family. We know already that we collect too much junk. Quarterly trips to Syracuse’s Salvation Army to unload outgrown clothes and unused toys only trim an inch off our material excess. And if we cleaned out our front hall closet, we could probably park a tiny European car in it.

As I packed for London, I put aside my packrat tendencies and gave away or tossed about two-thirds of my wardrobe. And I’m glad. The time has come for me to stop worrying whether I’ve worn a jacket more than once a week. Simplify. Streamline. There’s less to clean and mend.

Now, I don’t mean to give the impression that we didn’t bring plenty with us when we flew to the UK. My son managed to stuff his Wii, Nintendo DS, controllers and chargers into his carry-on bag. His father, a partner in crime when it comes to sniffing out ice rinks, skillfully stuffed three hockey sticks, two pairs of skates and all armor for on-ice battles into an extra suitcase.

But we have learned to drink Coke out of dwarf bottles and navigate London’s public transportation.  We have enjoyed fuller, richer days here in this historic and cultural wonderland than we typically spend in our comparatively palatial space back home.

The only palatial aspect of London living is the cost. You need to be royally rich to afford the $14 sandwiches and $20 cost of dry cleaning one short raincoat. We, like every other American here for the spring semester, are wringing our bank accounts dry, thanks to the limp noodle US dollar. But we wouldn’t trade the experience for the world.

True treasure doesn’t need space. London and its precious artifacts and history are our family’s great treasure. And we didn’t have to haul it home in a van.