Car Shopping - It Gives Me the Willies

Knowing we only had a month with a rental, we started the arduous task of picking out two cars. Now that that is past us, I hope we don’t have to car shop for a very long time because just deciding what to buy on a budget and with a deadline was very stressful. We started with a car for me. I had told H before we got back to the States that I wanted to look at the Honda Fit. My friends T and J have one and they’ve loved it. Getting a Beetle would be too sad and the Fit actually has a back seat. After considering a lot of other things, that was what we got. Going to the new car lots, the hard sell was in full force and it really turned me off. I ended up working with a dealership partly because we did the majority of the transaction via email which was a lot more no nonsense. When I did talk to the Salesman, there was something about his accent and a phrase he used that made me think he was from the UK but hadn’t lived there for quite some time.

On the way to the dealership, we were laughing in the car that we were buying a car from Willey Honda. Willie is slang in the UK for male genitalia. When we met our salesman he started asking us some questions about ourselves and I told him that we had just moved back from the UK. He said he could tell by A’s accent. I had the opportunity to ask him where he was from and he told us that he had been born and raised in Cardiff, Wales and had emigrated to the U. S. as an adult. H then shared with him how we’d been laughing at the name Willey Honda. I was absolutely mortified and so was A, not knowing if he was going to think this was funny. When he took us out to the car, he pointed to this cardboard insert that was placed where the license plate will be. It reads “Willey Deal”. He told A that when our plates came in she should take that out and send it to her friends back in England.  Side note, I once said to one of my UK work colleagues that something gave me the willies and she burst out laughing.

As we were waiting for some paperwork at the bank on this car I said to H that this may be the car that A ends up driving and taking to college. He quickly came back with, “No, she’s going to have a Volkswagen wagon like I did”. This was his first car and there was a massive hole in the floorboard. He said one day he took a corner and the pair of glasses he had on the dash flew off and fell through the whole and he never saw them again.

Getting H’s car was the easiest process and made me really love CarMax. He wanted to look at a few of their used SUVs wanting something with 4 wheel drive. There are several ski resorts around that might be good places to work and we’ve been told that 4 wheel drive will come in handy. After a few test drives he decided on a Jeep Liberty that’s a few years old. The whole experience was stress free and pressure free. I highly recommend it.

As we sat and waited for that paperwork to complete I said to H that I am surprised when I think back of the number of cars we’ve had over the years. We got to reminiscing and one car particularly sticks out in his mind, the 1961 red corvair that I fell in love with when we lived in El Paso and had to buy from his friend. I’m gonna plead that a mixture of idealism and post-partum depression probably influenced this decision. This car sticks out in his mind because the lack of safety features and us having an infant, he ended up having to drive it. Needless to say it had its quirks. He said he’d stop at a light and someone would pull up next to him and say, “Hey buddy your car’s on fire” and H would respond, “Aw no, it’s just burning oil”. It was cherry red with new matching red and white interior. What I didn’t remember about that paint job, but H reminded me was that his friend had taken it to Mexico to have it painted and it was still tacky when we bought it so bugs stuck to it. He said it was tacky for months. I remember driving it a few times and at least 50% of the time calling AAA was involved. It cured me of ever having a vintage car since the only way not to have that kind of experience with one is to spend a lot of money and then why not have the modern conveniences if you’re gonna do that?

This weekend is the first weekend that we don’t have to worry about car shopping and boy does it feel good!

Relief Maybe?

After dinner last night we checked nats.co.uk and they’ve cleared the airspace over the UK for flights! So if all remains in motion we’ll be flying on Friday. I cannot wait! I’ve been working in the hotel lobby on their wireless network and have had the opportunity to meet several stranded travellers. We are all happy to have a hotel room but the bills are piling up. I felt particularly sorry for a couple from Phoenix. He’s been in Europe for work and the tour he was working on ended last week in Amersterdam. His girlfriend flew out there to meet up with him and they decided to add a quick stop in London to their trip and got stuck for a week! Of course, because work has ended this is completely on his dime.


We’ve spent some quality time in the area around our hotel and it’s been interesting to be in a working class community that supports all of the posh people of London. I walked down the street the other day looking for lunch and on the busy high street the only language I heard was Polish. We had dinner at a Polish restaurant (my dinner pictured below) and it was the best meal we’ve had this week.

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles Part 2

Okay, I should be thankful that we have a hotel room and we are not stranded in an airport but I still want to scream.  I was on hold yesterday for almost two hours trying to rearrange flights after ours was cancelled by the airlines.  When the woman told me that Friday was the next available flight I asked her about train or ferry service to Madrid.  She told me that none of the trains were booking tickets.  People had to just show up at the train stations and see what they could get.  People were waiting 13 hours and they were over-selling the trains, which leads to who knows what.  I just started laughing.  I figured this poor woman had probably been yelled at more than once today and what was the point of getting upset.  So here we are stuck until Friday if all goes well in a very tiny hotel room.  Of course A, thinking of only herself was trying to arrange some more time with her friends which lead to a serious argument.

They have wireless in the lobby so I'm going to try and work from here since the journey via public transport would take about 2 hours.  There is the most pain in the ass guest here.  I just listened to him give the waiter a ten minute monologue on how his tea was not strong enough and now he is giving the desk staff a list of five things that are wrong with his room.  That same waiter, seeing me set up shop in the lobby came over and asked me if I'd like a cup of coffee as I work.  Like an angel from heaven, he just brought it over.

So much to write about from last week so I'll have to catch up later.

Leaving Isn't So Easy After All

It's been a mad rush to get everything done for the move.  We are once again without home and without car and this should be relaxing as we prepare to fly out of Heathrow tomorrow but we just got the message that our flight has been cancelled.  Stay tuned.

Driving - Something I Won't Miss

Let me say that I don't mind driving in the States and especially like a good road trip.  But I seriously will miss nothing related to driving in the UK. This past week with our exchange student I’ve been more of a taxi than ever and I’ve hated every minute of it. Car maintenance is ridiculously expensive, driving on narrow roads with everyone parked on the street is frustrating, and I’m ready to be back in the land of the enormous parking lot where parallel parking is rare. Yesterday I was taking one of A’s friends home. She gave me directions and told me to turn down this road that was named “The Clump”. If I didn’t see the sign I wouldn’t have believed it. I was amused for about 10 seconds and back to hating what I was doing.

This morning I was back to training it and happy to do so. 

The London Transport System Gets Us There

Trains to Wembley ran without a hitch last night so we made the show. There were three bands playing, the first from Nashville, Tennessee, the second from England, and then the headliner, Paramore, also from Tennessee. This music that A likes, I guess I’d call it power pop/punk (?), is male-dominated. While it’s not my thing, it was great to see Hayley Williams, lead singer of Paramore in that environment. She has the pipes and she had that sold out arena (boys and girls) up on their feet singing along with every word.

Girls rule!

No, I'll Walk

Oh, I feel so virtuous in the mornings when I decide to walk to the train station instead of taking H's offer to drop me off in front of the station.  Look at me!  I'm saving the environment!  I'm making healthier choices!

Except when it's freezing cold and there's ice on the sidewalks and I shuffle home in the winter dark cursing to myself the whole way. 

Hopefully it all evens out.  ;)

The Beach in Un-Beachy Weather

Here’s what I have heard about Brighton.

1. It is a beach destination, but not a very nice one.
2. It is the alternative lifestyle capital of England.

So why go on a February day? Why not? I think holiday destinations are interesting on their off-season. B, A and I took the train down since H had school on Wednesday. Brighton does have a Coney Island carnival down by the water. A was begging to go down to Brighton Pier and ride rides which we shot down quickly. We spent the afternoon playing “pick up and put down” (a B phrase) in many shops as well as the standard pick up and purchase. B had a list of souvenirs in mind and I was looking for a wedding gift. We had a terrific lunch at a local Italian restaurant. During lunch after we had made B’s to-do shopping list, A made a list of the 50 states, a skill that amazed her English classmates, and we each went through marking the states we had visited. B won with 39! A didn’t do bad with 13.

For the alternative lifestyle bit, yes there are a few signs but not anymore than you might see in Soho. And the beach, it was prettier than I expected, especially on a February day. While we were bundled up in our winter coats to protect us from the cold winter wind, there was a family swimming in the water! I couldn’t believe it. One of them came out of the water and was absolutely beet red. We sat for awhile on the pebbled beach and looked at the rocks and the yahoos partaking in illegal activities with their pals before heading back to the shopping.

We had a few funny train moments on the journey. On the way down we were on a tube train that was stuttering out of the station. The conductor announced that the reason the train was doing that was because someone was leaning on a door on the train somewhere. In a very calm and cold voice he asked that someone “remove their derriere from the doors so the train could move properly”. On the way back, when it felt like we were inches from pulling into London Bridge train station, the conductor announced that someone had “fallen over on the tracks” and then got stuck in them. This was at rush hour so when we finally did pull into the station (45 minutes late) you could see the mayhem that someone’s practical joke had caused. The stations were heaving with people trying to get home.

The Car Key

When we bought our used Renault, the English salesman commented on the abundance of electronic features in French cars with just a hint of disgust. I also thought the key was interesting, which looks like a credit card. After inserting the key you press a button and the car starts.

Oui, Nous Possédons une Voiture

With the lease ending on the gigantic car I was driving, we were looking for a car. I would actually be quite happy not having a car and just continuing to take public transport but with two exceptions. First, I would not be able to take A to her friend’s houses like I did last week and I don’t want to be that parent that burdens the others by not driving. And second, the buses are never predictable. While it takes me approximately ten minutes to drive home from work, public transport makes the journey about an hour with the wishing and hoping and waiting that the bus shows up. I have been taking the train home which again is about an hour due to a change I have to make, but at least it’s on schedule. Let me also add for you Americans who take parking for granted, you pretty much have to pay to park everywhere here except your own driveway (and in the end that ain’t free either, right?). Therefore, even when we did have a car, I would walk to as much as possible because it’s in my blood that unless I’m downtown in an American city, I’m not paying for parking!

We found something we liked and made the purchase yesterday. I bought it on my debit card, which was strange and also liberating. I was happy we found an automatic in our price range. I feel the need to explain to my work colleagues when we get into this debate that I CAN drive a manual, but in nothing but stop and go traffic as it is here, I wouldn’t enjoy driving one.

So here’s a pic of our ice-covered Renault. The drive home from London was as horrific as I expected since we got lost. The first thing I need to buy is an ice scraper!

Ouch!

We have been driving very little here, still taking public transport as much as possible. So little that after having the car for almost a month, we went to the gas station (known as the petrol station here) for the first time this week. We put £59.00 worth of fuel in the car which got us up to 3/4 of a tank! We're talking over a $100 to not even fill up. I thought it would make all ya'll in the U.S. feel better about your payments at the pump.

The Morning Commute

The village we live in is in between the village that A’s school is in and the village where work is located. It should take me about ten minutes tops to drop A off and get to work but I find myself regularly sitting still in traffic, as pictured here.

My gigantic car generates very different reaction in men and women. I have had a few women at work say they wouldn’t want to drive it. When I was walking into work with one of the guys though, he said to me, “It must be fun driving that. You can intimidate everyone on the road”.

I'm An American Soccer Mom

When I think of the term “soccer mom” SUV comes to mind. I was fortunate enough to get the opportunity to take over a lease from someone at work who is returning to the States. The good part is that the car is an automatic so we only have to get comfortable driving on the left, putting off getting comfortable shifting with the left hand for a few months. The downside is that it is an Audi SUV and it is massive. We could have moved into this car. Of course when I mentioned getting used to driving this car on the tiny UK roads a co-worker said to me, “Come on, you’re American!” I have never driven a car of this size in my life. It would be a very tight squeeze into our driveway so I have to park it on the street.

One of my co-workers said to me, “You get to pretend to be a hip hop star for a few months”. Hahaha

Bus Tales, Part Two

When I got on the bus last week the bus driver, in a thick possibly Russian accent yelled at me for getting on the bus too early and started pointing at the ticket dispenser to explain that he could not give me a ticket for another minute. I told him I didn’t understand and his response was, “Where are you from?” I responded with the name of my village. He got this look on his face as if to say “like hell you are”. Not only had I disobeyed by getting on the bus early, but somehow he now also thought I was a smart ass.

On the way to work the next day we got stopped in the usual place where the road narrows and the bus driver was not willing to give in and put it in reverse to give the oncoming driver some space. Next thing I know, a man has walked up to the bus driver’s window to cuss him out. It went on for almost five minutes with a lot of “you fat fuck” and “fucking twat” thrown back and forth. Never have I heard so many “f” words jammed in one span of time. It was a bit unsettling at first, but then it was just downright funny.

My last note on the “f” word. Due to the after 9:00pm the “f” word is okay rule here, I think A has heard it more in the past three months than she has her entire life. I’m beginning to think it is not the holy mother of swear words that it is in the U.S. I asked one of my colleagues who used to live in the States and they agreed.

Bus Tales

I have been taking a different bus in the mornings to get to work. I have two choices, I can sleep in a little longer and take the number 4 which requires me to walk to a bus stop further away or I can not sleep as long and pick up the 375 which stops just down the street. The 375 takes a windier way to work and every day when we get to this one road, where there is just one narrow lane going in both directions, and people parked in one of those lanes on the left, the bus ends up playing chicken with a car coming at us until the car basically gives in, pulling into a parking spot on the left or putting it into reverse and backing all the way out. At that moment, roads in England seem insane to me. Why would a bus go down such a narrow road?

When I am coming home in the evenings I sometimes take this bus home where a woman, the bus driver’s girlfriend or wife, stands next to him every day as he drives his route. I was telling someone at work about it and since she is an optimistic person, her response was, “How romantic!” I told her that yes, I thought that at first, but then I started wondering, is he one of those controlling men that won’t let her out of his sight and that’s why she is there? He is a large man, and I can’t tell what language he speaks to her but it is a very harsh sounding language, so maybe that makes me think something sinister is happening. My work colleague, suddenly not being very optimistic said that maybe SHE was the controlling one and stood there where each woman entering the bus had to buy their ticket to make sure he didn’t stray. Who really knows but it is funny how we construct tales about perfect strangers.

With entertainment like that, I have not felt super motivated to get a car. I had the great opportunity of covering Reading Festival this weekend for a website and it is a dream gig for someone who likes music. We really have nothing comparable in size to Reading Festival in the U.S. After looking over the public transport options, there was just no way to get to and from in an easy fashion each day and there was no way I was camping there, especially alone. I was upset about this and told H that if we had a car this wouldn’t be an issue. He of course told me that we shouldn’t rush into buying a car that day just because I had an impulse. So true. We are just beginning our car research and were planning some looking this weekend. I’ll just be watching the Reading coverage on the telly and watching the drama on the bus a little longer.

The Bus Schedule is Open to Interpretation

So there’s a schedule posted, but the movement of the buses is rarely according to plan. I have waited over 30 minutes for that elusive connection home. It’s not bad when the iPod is fully charged and the weather is nice. It can be hell if that’s not the case. I know these observations are not new to anyone who regularly takes public transportation, but I’m new at this. We Americans, we love our cars! I find it amazing that on public transportation you are in a most public place, but it is also as if you are in private because you could really do just about anything and most people around you would remain expressionless. On Sunday, we saw a guy knuckle-deep digging in his nose in front of God and everyone. Besides me and H sharing a look between us about it, everyone else averted their eyes in apathy.

Time to Go Home

I had the great fortune of having a business trip to the States the second week of March and was able to arrange a quick visit to St. Louis on the way. What did this mean for the travel experience? It meant leaving Melbourne at 11:50pm Monday the 31st. Travelling from there to Hong Kong, then to London, switching airlines and flying from London to Washington D.C. and then finally to St. Louis. I arrived Tuesday night very close to midnight. Every flight was jammed with people.

When I got to Washington D.C. I wanted to kiss the ground. I was very happy to be back in the U.S. The first thing I noticed in the airport shops were Obama and Hilary t-shirts.

House on the Tube?

As I was waiting for my train at the Finchley Road tube station Saturday, I saw a guy that looked a lot like Hugh Laurie. Now, Americans primarily know him from the show “House”. I now know that House is just the latest role in a long career. I kept staring at this guy, trying to figure out if it was him or not. After all, with the writer’s strike in America, he may have some free time. He said in an interview once about House that his family had not yet moved over to the States even though the show had become a big hit. So I stared at him, and he started staring at me. I couldn’t make out if his stare was, “oh my gosh, you recognize me” or “what in the hell are you looking at?” so I guess I will never know.

Barbie's Car

I walked past this most adorable car on my way to work the other day and had to take a pic.