Bathroom Edition: Hot and Cold

I am reminded of the lyrics to a recent Katy Perry song, "Hot N Cold," when I think of British bathrooms. Why is it, the Queen wonders, that every bathroom is outfitted with a towel warmer when no one has bothered to install a plumbing system that actually delivers hot water? Is it supposed to be a satisfying shower experience to linger in tepid to luke-warm warm for 10 minutes followed by a freshly hot towel? In my experience, a shivering body is not mollified by a simple, warm towel.

Which brings me to a second mystery....why is it that the central heating for the apartment creates a tropic zone the moment it is turned on, while the water heater delivers room-temperature dribble even when dialed to maximum heat?? The Queen has finally resorted to old-fashioned British methods reminiscent of her days in the castle. ExPat boils 

a large pot of water on the stove and mixes it with the bath water. Recently, the Queen has even asked for 2 pots of boiling water added to her bath.

I conclude with a final bathroom mystery, one for the ages. What exactly is a bidet for? Why are they a permanent staple in European bathrooms? The Queen has found, thus far, that the bidet's major talent is collecting dust. ExPat has found some others uses for it. 

Ahhhhhhh, we miss American plumbing. 

UK Cares Not For Fire Hazards!

The door opens inwards! Why!

The Expat and HRM took in Cirque Du Soliel at Royal Albert Hall this past week and had a fantastic time. By fantastic time, I mean that the evening provided hours of nightmare fodder and mind melting images of people hanging from the ceiling and clowns dying. Yes, that's right, the people at Cirque thought it would be a good idea to go to intermission with a mass death of clowns. Needless to say, the Expat hasn't slept well this week.

But the nightmare fodder didn't just come from the contortionists and acrobatics laced with a soundtrack of music sung in an entirely made up language, NO! The scariest part of the evening is when we were Locked Into our box seats. I figured this out at Intermission as I was, not surprisingly, the last person at the bar to proceed back to our seats. As I approached the box, I noticed that door was locked and looked blankly at the usher approaching. The nice lady unlocked the box and let me in, then promptly closed the door. I presume the lock was allowed to open from the inside, but seriously, isn't this a fire hazard?

This isn't the first time I've been baffled by the doors here. In many cases when one would expect to push a door open when leaving, one has to pull the door open. I'm so confused, I've actually gotten into the habit of looking at the door jam before I apply pressure in either direction. I thought this door situation was merely a curiosity until it all came together at the Royal Albert Hall (box seats, did I mention that?)

As I watched men and women being thrown through the air from rope to rope, I realized that there doesn't seem to be a fire code here in the UK! In the states, most doors have to either be capable of opening both ways or push outward in case of fire. Not so much here in the UK. I'm fascinated by this and if anyone has any sort of insight, please comment below.

I took this picture above as an example. I'm sure the lady was wondering why I was taking a piciture of the outdoor seating, but ultimately I'm trying to save her life so I don't think she'll mind.

Snow-pocalypse, Part Deux

Well, for those of us who don't have real jobs, the snow storm was a little bit different. The Queen, for example, was able to frolic in Hyde Park while ExPat made the treacherous journey to the City. The Brits were out in huge numbers, making snowmen and having snowball fights. It was like Lollapalooza for snow. 

There are several reasons why I know that it doesn't snow often in London:

1. Everyone was carrying around umbrellas instead of wearing winter hats

2. No one had picked up our garbage this morning, and the post office was closed

3. All of my co-workers who work

 in the building next door (we are imaginary friends through my window) did not come to work today

4. I saw three people slip and fall on the sidewalk

5. Evil Dog owners in Hype Park kept throwing snowballs to their dogs to see if they could catch them. Seriously, why do they do that?

The Queen can only hope that tomorrow will prove another lovely, snowy day. 

Snow - pocolypse Now!

A large to-do here this morning as London saw the biggest snowfall since 1991. One morning newspaper I saw read "Going Snowwhere!" and predicted mass confusion during both the AM and PM rush hour commute.

I experienced such confusion. The streets were empty as I left for work this morning; roads and streets had yet to be plowed. I made my way to the Tube to find a worker barking out instructions as if there was a fire: "MAKE SURE YOU CHECK YOUR LINE FOR SERVICE DELAYS!," "GIVE YOURSELF PLENTY OF TIME!" "RUN AWAY!" I was the only one in the station, so I'm not sure why he was yelling at me. But I certainly appreciated his help.

Looking at the service board, sure enough, there several lines were delayed and the entire London Bus service was canceled. I was fortunate to have only a shortly delayed train, while others had to make several switches to get even close to their destination.

The streets of The City were worse. Cars spinning out, shops closed, and sidewalks covered in snow. The Capital had truly come to a standstill.

The amount dumped on London: 15cm (or 6 inches.)

Now, I recognize that six inches can be a lot of trouble, but it started snowing at 3 pm yesterday and came down very slowly. Her Royal Majesty even remarked that this "Snowstorm" was "Cute." Let's put this snowstorm in perspective. In the 16 hours between the start of the snowfall and when I went to work, snow accumulated at a pace less than 1/2 inch an hour - shockingly weak for a snowfall the weatherman has predicted for days.

Even still, what really baffles me is how the Tube, located miles underground near the seventh circle of hell, could be even remotely effected by snowfall. Clearly, it would take the conductors a little longer to get to work but, uhm, then you're underground all day. Should be fine. No need to cancel everything.

And yes, I'm cranky because my coffee place was shut down because of the weather. My only caffeine this morning has come from English Breakfast - which, analogous to my the reaction to the snow, I also find shockingly weak and disappointing.

Apparently this is Day 1 of Snowpocolypse Now, with two more to follow. Oh! The Horror! We'll keep you updated.

Visit to the Motherland

Top 'o the morning! The Queen and her royal assistant, Ex-Pat, recently visited Kinsale, Ireland, as part of the royal agenda to explore the realm beyond London. The weather cooperated and it was sunny most of the time. Rainy spurts were spent within a range of pubs offering local ales and nourishment.

After a nice breakfast on Saturday morning, we

set out on a walk along the coast. There was a trail that supposedly led to an old Fort,

but we ended up simply finding an excellent view. Ex-Pat pondered life as we checked

out the marina, and the Queen took photos.

The town of Kinsale is quaint and clearly caters to tourists in the summer. We ate dinner at a wonderful restaurant called Crackpots, and watched some "football" with the locals afterwards.

On Sunday, we drove out to the famous golf course - Old Head Links - but they were closed for the season. We did manage to walk part of the grounds and catch the following seascape. All in all, a fun weekend in Ireland and a nice break from the city!

Moving

I consider this a viable option...

48 hours. Not a Mel Gibson movie or CBS news event, but the amount of time we have left in the motherland. Though we've reached the "I guess if we had to throw everything else out, we'd be okay with just our clothes" stage, we have much left to do. Not entirely sure what to do with the couch, but we have eliminated the "burn it" option, so we're narrowing the choices there. We're also clueless about the sheets and towels - which, as it's own meta - question, makes me wonder where my era of drinking, pizza, and video games went.

Confident we will get this done, mostly because we have a flight to the UK on Tuesday and aren't coming back full time for two years. The movers come tomorrow and then we're off to the staging area. Priority Uno is to get out Internet and Phone up in the UK, so I imagine we'll begin reporting again around Saturday or, if I forget the password, never again. Which would probably be for the best.

Until then.