What We Did in Edinburgh: Day 1

Fun fact about Europe: the sun rises way before the buttcrack of dawn. When I woke up this morning to get ready to catch our 8 AM train, the sun was already fully alive and kickin' at 5 AM. I'm not sure why it took me four days to realize this - observant I am not.

We took the train at Kings Cross to make our journey to Edinburgh. I was a little disappointed that our train left from Platform 4 though because I had really high hopes of finding the elusive Platform 9 3/4. Next week before our train leaves for Oxford, we will be on the hunt. 

Another fun fact about London: they apparently do not believe in trash cans (or "litter bins" as they call the very few and far between around the city). We grabbed breakfast while we were waiting for our train, but could not find any litter bins. And believe me, we looked. 

You also have to pay for public restrooms (or "toilets"). Why anyone would actually want to pay to use a public restroom is beyond me. My change has stayed safe and sound in my wallet. 

Since it was my and Kalie's first time to ride a train, I spent a lot of time looking out the window. Kalie decided her time would be better utilized by watching Arrow on her iPad. 

Once we made it to Edinburgh, our 3 minute walk to the hotel quickly turned into 20 minutes as we walked up and down the same street looking for the hotel that Google said was right in front of us. Eventually a very nice gentleman took pity on us and walked up and down the street with us inspecting said Google maps. We eventually found the sign hiding next to a bar, and he walked up with us to make sure it really was said hotel. 

We checked in and then went looking for a place to eat lunch. Little did we know that in addition to the British Open there was also a Blues & Jazz festival. The streets were packed, music was pouring out of the sky, and people were even resorting to carrying their dogs to make sure they survived the crowds. 

After lunch we walked through the city to take in the sights and observe the commonfolk. There are a few things we noticed straight away: 1) The city is built on different levels, so avoiding stairs and/or hills is next to impossible and 2) the Scottish like their booze. Even at 2 PM in the afternoon. 

We made our way to Arthur's Seat, and I convinced Kalie and Kristen to hike up to the top. I conveniently left out the fact that it was a dormant volcano until after we were up there. By the time we got to the top, we'd ditched our jackets that were a necessity only 30 minutes before. Hiking is hard work, apparently. 

We could see the entire city of Edinburgh from the top. It was spectacular and almost made me want to adopt hiking as a hobby.

Almost. 

We made our way back down the mountain and popped by the Holyrood Palace. It was massive and I wanted to go in, but at 20 pounds a person we decided against it. I should have just walked over and demanded to be let in. Because I'm royalty and all. 

Obviously. 

We resumed our journey around the city and stopped by a fudge shop because who actually passes up fudge? 

After that we made our way back to the hotel because the old people (Kristen and Kalie) were tired. I stared out the window while they slept and observed the Scottish in their natural habit: the pub. 

When Senior 1 and Senior 2 finally woke up, we made our way to dinner. We tried to give the restaurant/pub a go since it was close and convenient for aforementioned Seniors, but when we walked in we quickly realized it wasn't our scene. 

And by that, I mean it was pretty much a club, and we probably shouldn't have even had Kalie in there. Which was confirmed later that night when we were trying to get back to our hotel and two security guards almost didn't let Kalie and I in. 

You know, because we're 12 and all. 

We finally found a real restaurant pub that actually had room to move, and I finally tried a British pie. I kind of cheated though and ordered the Chicken, Chardonnay and Pancetta one. Because it seemed less scary. The pie was delicious (if a little big). The mashed potatoes, on the otherhand, were not. But then again, I'm not really a huge mashed potatoes fan. 

We returned to the hotel where we were lulled to sleep by the peaceful sounds of the crowds chanting Little Jon's "Get Low" and The Proclaimers' "500 Miles"... among many other lullabies. 

Until later, 

The Americans Who Will Eventually Be Returning Home, But Reluctantly

What We Did in London: Day 3

We are currently traveling by train through the English countryside on our way to Edinburgh (pronounced Edin-borough, in case you were interested. No, it doesn't make sense). Yesterday was jam-packed and since we didn't get back to the hotel until 1 AM and had to wake up at 5:00, I'm just now getting around to this. Thank you Virgin Trains for your free wifi!

So here's a recap of Day 3, entitled: "I'm Just a Girl, Standing in Front of a Boy, Asking Him to Love Her." Yep, we did Nottinghill today. I have to admit, though, that I am super disappointed in my sister because she has apparently never seen the movie Nottinghill and therefore does not appreciate the awesomeness of this day. 

But I digress. 

By the time we were ready to head out to breakfast at Raoul's (the first place I found that served french toast - a food Kalie will actually eat), we were pretty hungry so I decided it would be a good idea to book an Uber. I set up the app, plugged in our route, and got an estimate. Seemed sensible enough. 

Then I started doubting the safety of Uber and decided that we should try to use Addision Lee, the car company that picked us up from the airport. 20 minutes later, the app still hadn't downloaded, so we decided to risk it and give Uber a go... until we plugged in our route again and were quoted triple the rate due to some kind of surcharge. We probably would have gotten the creepy driver, so it must have been fate. 

We ended up switching back to our original plan and took the Tube. 

After exiting at a rather sketch-looking Tube station, we walked through another rather sketch-looking neighborhood with a Google maps app that decided to function only when it felt like it. 10 minutes later, I was about to give up and scratch said breakfast place until we stumbled upon the street that led to it. We were so happy to see the restaurant, we almost ran in. But we didn't. We were totallly sensible and proper. 

After ording our breakfast, I was looking around the restuarant and noticed that the girl across the room looked a lot like Kate Hudson. Then I realized that it was Kate Hudson and told Kalie to look but not right now. Kalie spent the rest of breakfast stalking her in the window, and I kept trying to simultaneously take secret pictures and not look at her. 

I wanted to go over and ask her for directions to Nottinghill, but I thought it would be a little suspicious. Since she already caught us looking at her and all.

I wish I had had my video camera on the ready though because, at one point, she started singing (quite loud) to the song her son was listenening to on her phone. Complete with hand motions. 

Anywho, breakfast was delicious, and I'd highly recommend eating at Raoul's if you are in the Nottinghill area. I had a bowl on greek yogurt with honey, fruit and nuts the size of my head, and Kalie had the french toast (without powdered sugar, much to her disappointment. It apparently is not much of a thing here as the waitress had no idea what we were talking about). I also tried my first ever cappucino there, and I am now hooked for life. Where have cappucinos been hiding all of these years and why have I never thought to order one? 

After breakfast my Google Maps app decided to work again so we made our way down to Portobello Road for some shopping in Nottinghill (and to see the Nottinghill bookstore). You know, from the movie Kalie has never seen

We also grabbed a cookie at Biscuiteers (It was ok - I wouldn't recommend going out of your way for it) and cupcakes at Hummingbird Bakery because apparently our goal on this trip is to gain 30 pounds. The cupcakes, incidentally, were delicious and also great for crisis management (see later in day). 

After doing some serious damage to our wallets, we ate lunch at Jamie Oliver's restaurant in Nottinghill: Recipease. Jamie Oliver is one of my favorite chefs, so I had to eat in at least one of his many restaurants around the London area. I'm glad we ended up at this one because it was pretty awesome. Plus, they were able to accomodate Kalie and her kid's "pasta with butter and cheese only" which is more of a victory than you realize. 

We made our way back to the hotel to drop off our bags because I read (from muliple sources, including the Harrod's website) that Harrod's requires you to check your bags upon entry for 10 pounds each. Apparently, though, this is not enforced because we and all the other thousand people in Harrods had large (and sometimes multiple) bags and no one said anything.

Anyway, before we went to Harrods we were eating cupcakes and checking the balance on our Oyster (Tube) cards when a very strange alarm started to sound at our hotel. I wasn't really sure what it was (or what to do) until a very British voice came over the intercom telling us it was an emergency and to find the nearest escape route (avoiding the lifts). 

My overactive imagination immediately went to the unattended bag we had just passed in Leicester Square, so of course I was thinking bomb. You know, like an optimistic person. Plus, as Kalie so sweetly reminded me, it's happened before. 

So thanks, Kalie, for that mid-crisis encouragement. 

We grabbed the important things: my blanket and Kalie's meds (she also grabbed her iPad which tells me she clearly has issues). Then we ran down the hall pretty much freaking out and thinking we were going to get trapped on the top floor of the hotel. Except Kalie was laughing because that's apparently what she does in crisis situations and I was yelling at her because IT IS NOT FUNNY. 

After running through about a 1/2 mile of hallway (W - you should really rethink the fire exits on the 7th flood), we made it to the stairs with a very flustered gentleman and a very peeved lady with only half-finished nails that made the stairwell smell strongly of nail polish fumes. Halfway down the stairs, the very British man came back over the intercom to tell us that it was a false alarm. Which stunk for Mr. Flustered because his phone was now in pieces on the stairs due to his rush. 

After locking our important things in the (assumedly) fireproof safe just in case, we hopped back on the Tube and made our way over to Harrods. The place was massive, and I doubt we even saw half of it. It was fun to walk around, but it wasn't a place I would necessarily frequent if I lived there. Mainly because I couldn't afford it. 

They had some really pretty clothes, but once I realized that half of them didn't even have the price on the tag, I figured I should stop looking. Because that's just mean. 

We did manage to find the most important things though: the toy store and the Disney store. Because 25 and 17 year olds have priorities. I also managed to get my hands on these gems to further fuel my Duchess of Cambridge obsession: 

While we were in Harrods, we also stumbled across the cutest dog store in the history of ever: Mungo & Maud. Kalie bought Gracie some treats and according to the sales clerk (whose hair I wanted to steal), many of the owners also eat said treats.

 

I'm wasn't really sure what to make of that. 

I also traveled back in time and met the Queen. You know, Dr. Who powers and all because we're in London.

 

For dinner we grabbed some picnic supplies at Whole Foods and walked over to Grovesnor Square for an outdoor viewing of Breakfast at Tiffany's. If you know me, then you know that Audrey Hepburn is my favorite and Breakfast at Tiffany's is a movie I never tire of. It was better than I imagined it would be, and even though we didn't get back to the hotel until 1 AM, it was worth it. 

We also stumbled upon a Tiffany's on our walk to the square, so naturally I had to take a picture because it was Audrey Hepburn fate. 

Until tomorrow, 

The Americans Who Won't Be Coming Home

**Just kidding though - we'll be coming home. I miss my husband. 

What We Did in London: Day 2

Day 2 of our London escapades was entitled: "Channeling Our Inner Lady Mary." On the agenda? Highclere Castle and Bampton (or for Downton Abbey fans: Downton). 

We started off the morning grabbing some croissants at a bakery across from our hotel and asked someone for directions since we were on a time crunch. We walked through Piccadilly Circus on our way to meet the tour group and head out of London. It was pretty tame this morning, but when we walked back through this afternoon, it was packed. 

Our tour guide was from Scottland (Glasgow), and his accent was awesome. I've decided I need some kind of accent - between all those British and Scottish people, I'm jealous. We and 5 other people made our way in a van out of London toward Highclere Castle. I almost felt bad for subjecting Kalie to a ride in a stinky van full of old people, but we were going to Downton, so she just had to deal. After nodding off continously for an hour and a half, we finally made it to Highclere. 

Or Downton, I should say. 

We weren't able to take pictures inside (mainly because the 8th Earl of Carnarvon and his family still live there). While we weren't able to see the full castle, we were able to see a lot. We saw the entrance hall, saloon, library, dining room, drawing room, grand staircase, and Sybil's room from the show. The inside of the castle was spectacular (probably better than Kensington Palace), but the clencher was the grounds. 

From the Wild Flower Meadow to Penelope's Wood to Monks' Garden and the South & East Lawns, the grounds were spectacular. I want to move in for the grounds alone. 

From Highclere, we drove about 40 minutes to the village of Bampton, where the scenes from the town of Downton are filmed. Aside from the Downton relation, Bampton was a quintessential British town that I would love to move to but could never afford. Also, apparently all of their restaurants are closed on Thursdays for lunch, so finding food is next to impossible. 

Mrs. Crawley's house. 

The church where Mary and Matthew got married. Before Matthew decided to ruin the show. 

Apparently when shooting the first season of Downton, they paid the villagers 200 pounds to paint their doors a uniform green. So after filming was completed, a lot of the villagers painted their doors different colors, expecting to receive 200 pounds for the next filming. Unfortunately, the crew just placed fake doors in front of the painted doors for the remaining seasons, so they lost out. But the doors were pretty. 

Day 2 was spent with a lot of time in a stinky van, but it was worth it. We did manage to sneak some shopping in on Piccadilly as we meandered back to our hotel. We also realized that our cell phone service was a little unreliable after receiving 5 very much delayed texts from my aunt frantically inquiring about our whereabouts. Apparently walking into an empty hotel room and not being able to reach said people you were expecting to see in said hotel is a little nerve-wracking. 

Not that we'd know. We were too busy shopping at Taylor Swift approved stores. 

Tomorrow, we're going to see Julia and Hugh. 

Until then, 

The Americans Who Won't Be Coming Home

What We Did in London: Day 1

Well, we officially made it to London. We were out of commission yesterday because: jet lag. 

I made the very wrong assumption that jet lag was a made-up thing that wouldn't affect me. Apparently not. Once we were finally able to get into our hotel room, we crashed and didn't go to dinner until around 8 PM. So our afternoon itinerary was nixed, and Typically London Tourists we were not. 

I was charged to find places to eat for dinner, and let me just tell you: finding a place to accommodate a gluten-free diner and Kalie (whose palate is limited to literally seven things) is very difficult. We ended up eating at a place called Bill's, and it was fantastic. Seriously, if you're ever in London, you need to go. 

Just the ambiance alone is worth it. 

Also, if you go, get the honeycomb ice cream. It's the most amazing thing I've ever tasted, and I will be looking for a recipe to replicate it at home. 

Day 2 on our itinerary was titled: "Keep Calm and Act Like Kate (Middleton, That Is)." Once we managed to actually wake up, we made our way over to Buckingham Palace - which was quite challenging for someone as directionally challenged as me. Add to that the fact that street names are posted on the sides of buildings (not stoplights) or sometimes not at all, and you've got a very confused Alexis. Thankfully, though, the scenery was pretty so even if you're lost, it's ok. There are pretty buildings all around you. 

We eventually made it to Buckingham Palace for Changing of the Guard. We watched from across the street since the front of the palace gates were packed, so we didn't get to see the ceremony, but we saw them walk in, so it was good enough. 

Then Kalie decided it would be a good idea to almost pass out in front of Buckingham Palace. I told her that wasn't the way to get the Queen's attention. Lesson learned: feed the child breakfast before doing anything. Even if you're running late. 

We managed to find a street vendor that sold waffles in the St. James park, so I didn't have to request the help of the police. Which is a good thing because they kind of scare me - except for the one on the horse who gives children high-fives. I would have sought him out. 

So with Kalie full of Nutella-covered waffle, we made our way over to Chelsea for our hair appointments at Richard Ward (Kate Middleton's choice salon). I warned Kalie not to tell them about our Kate day for fear they would kick us out and call the police with Kate-stalking charges. 

After some stylin' and head massages (which Kalie was very intrigued with), lunch was at a French bakery we found in Chelsea called Paul's. It didn't sound very French, but it was delicious. Kalie had a bretzel (which she said was pretty much a croissant and pretzel mix), and I had my first Croque Monsieur. 

Oh. My. Goodness. 

I've found my food. 

We decided to take the Tube over to Kensington Palace because hello - Kate Middleton. I was a little nervous about figuring out the Tube by myself (remember - directionally challenged). It was actually fairly easy to understand and with the exception of Kalie holding up the exit line because her Oyster card wouldn't take, fairly eventless. 

Although, if we're being honest, I would like to make an official request to London to put some air conditioning on the Tube. Because it's hot. 

Kensington Palace was awesome. While we couldn't go find Prince William & The Duchess of Cambridge's apartment, we were able to tour a part of the palace. Walking through there and hearing about the history of each room was pretty cool. My favorite section, though, would have to be this room. 

Josh - if you're reading this - I want a room like this in our future palace. 

There was also some children's playrooms that are the stuff of dreams. Check out these outfits (they're real, not dress up). They're so cute they almost make me want to have children. But these people had nannies, and I would not. So there you have it. 

Queen Victoria (or Mary... I can't remember which) had a drawing room where she spent her time reading and relaxing. The view from the room was spectacular. 

We also found a random cubbyhole that may or may not have been a secret passageway at one point in time. We're not sure, but it did make for a good photo-op.

And we kind of saw Kate. If you count gazing upon her picture in wonder as seeing her. Then, yes, we saw her. 

We hopped back on the Tube and headed to the hotel after that because it was getting late and our feet were hurting (which wouldn't have happened if we actually were Kate because she has chauffeurs). 

Dinner was a Five Guys because again - complicated diners. We all came to the mutual agreement, however, that Five Guys in London is much better than Five Guys in America. Plus, it's the only place we've found that had Dr. Pepper, so Kalie was happy. 

Until tomorrow. 

Peace out - The Americans Who Won't Be Coming Home

On Vulnerability and Sharing Even When It's Hard

If I were to be honest, simply writing this post is a stretch for me. Five years ago, I wouldn't have hesitated to push the "Publish" button; today I'm wondering if I'm really ready to take that step again.


There was a time when I did not hesitate to share my story. My story was as much a part of me as my name. It was my passion, my message, my hope. I shared it because I knew that God would use it to help someone. I wasn't ashamed of it because God brought me through it. I knew the places God rescued me from and I knew that He could do the same for so many others.


So I shared without hesitation because at the end of the day, it wasn't my story to tell.


It was His.


Somewhere along the way, though, I stopped sharing what had become such an integral part of my life and ministry. I allowed the voices of people around me to plant doubt in what I felt God calling me to do with my life. I slammed the door on the plans, dreams, and passions of my heart because they made me uncomfortable. I stopped writing because if I didn't write from a place of vulnerability, then I had nothing to share.


I started praying for God to give me a new passion. Something normal. Something less vulnerable. Something safe. I remember praying for a life that didn't involve having to speak up about uncomfortable topics.


"Maybe I'll just live a normal life... stop writing altogether. I don't need to write to fulfill a purpose. I don't need to put myself out there. Someone else can do it. I can live behind the scenes and make just as much of an impact."


So I did. I stopped writing. I stopped speaking up about the topics that were important to me. I stopped being vulnerable. When people asked about my dreams, I had vague answers:


"Oh, you know. Have kids eventually, I guess."


"Work."


"Go back to school."


I traded a life full of meaning and passion for something I honestly didn't want to do. Deep down, I wanted to spur on change in this world. I wanted to reassure people that there is hope and freedom. I wanted people to know that they weren't alone.


But I wasn't willing to step outside of my comfort zone to do it. I was paralyzed by the fear of what people would think or say.


After living a few years like this, I realized that I'd been living my life at a distance. I kept people at arms length. I didn't let people get close. When they asked questions, I'd give them simple answers. Nothing too revealing. Nothing too interesting. Nothing more than what they needed to know.


Sometimes we allow the voices around us to dictate how we feel about ourselves, our situations, and our beliefs. We allow people who shouldn't have much say in our lives to have all of the say. We ignore God's gentle nudging on our hearts because we don't think it fits into how other people view us.


It took me a couple of years to realize what I was doing. I thought I was being smart. I thought I was listening to God. I thought I was following a new purpose... that I had misunderstood what I was supposed to do with my life.


Then someone brought up the topic. Someone knew someone who had an eating disorder, who struggled with depression. And the things that I had stuffed down for so long came bubbling back up to the surface. I wanted to share. I wanted to help. I wanted to let someone know that they were not alone.


Because I remembered what it was like to feel alone in this often silent struggle. I remembered how hopeless I felt. I remembered what it was like to feel misunderstood.


God used that situation to revive a dream and a passion I purposely let die. He reminded me of the things that made me feel alive, made me speak up. He gave me the nudging I needed to take a step out of the boat.


God uses vulnerability. He uses the things that are hard to make the biggest impact. If He's calling you to do something you're uncomfortable doing, there's always a bigger purpose behind it.

More

I don't do New Year's resolutions... Never have. Never will.

It probably has something to do with the fact that I don't like doing the "in" thing. If everyone else is doing it, count me out... even if it's something I know I'd like and could possibly be beneficial for my life. I'd rather wait for the hype to pass and then delve into whatever it was that somehow managed to capture the attention of everyone else. Being associated with the "crowd" seriously gives me the heebie-jeebies.

New Year's resolutions are one of those things I avoid like the plague. Along with a certain singer whose name rhymes with "fever".

I like the concept. I like setting goals (believe me, I'm an awesome goal-setter). It's the follow through that bothers me. Or really, lack of follow through.

Because really, how many of us actually keep our New Year's resolutions throughout the entire year? How many of us actually reach the goals we set for ourselves? How many of us give up only after one week? Or two days?

If I made resolutions, I can promise you I'd fall into the latter category. Every. Single. Time.

Just the other day, I told the Mr. that we really need to start making an effort to workout. Because we're not getting any younger, and I'm pretty sure our occasional Ramen-noodle diet is going to do some serious things to our heart.

Serious as in not good things.

So, being the naturally compliant husband he is, he said "Ok."

Simple as that. Accountability made.

Later that day, he broached the topic. While I was in the middle of eating a bowl of peppermint ice cream, mind you.

The Mr: "So, are we going to go workout tonight?"

Me: "Uh, no."

The Mr.: "Well, you said you wanted to. I'm just making the effort."

Me: "It's too late...and cold."

The Mr: "Ok. Just asking."

And that's how I single-handedly broke a goal I'd made not even 6 hours earlier.

So New Year's resolutions? Um, rather not. 

Despite my reluctance to set resolutions, I do desire change. I want to intentionally start the year off right. I want this year to be better than the last. I want to seize opportunities by the horn and not let them go.

I read a blog over at (in)courage this morning that really got me thinking. It talked about "rewriting" our New Year's resolutions and choosing ONE word to sum up who you want to be and how you want to live this year. One word to guide your thoughts, your actions, and your purposes throughout the year. One word by which to shape everything you do each and every day.

My word for the New Year is more.

Not as in more money. More stuff. More opportunity. More pursuits.

More as in more love. More grace. More trust. More truth. More faith. More commitment. More intentionality. More understanding. More sacrifice.

...and less self-focus.

As I think about the year ahead, I see more. I see the unraveling of a purpose that will lead to more of the good things and less of the bad. I see opportunities that will create more trust in God and who He says I am. I see a chance for more growth - personally, relationally, and spiritually. When I look 2014 in the face, I see God doing more in and through my life.

So I don't have a resolution. I don't have a list of measurable goals that I'll forget about in five seconds.

I have an intentionality to seek out the more and become more to those around me.

 

Happy New Year!

Love Josh, Alexis, The Holy Terror & Miss-Priss