Contraband

Take that, HM Revenue & Customs.

Alrighty, we're no latter-day Harriet Tubmans and this ain't the Underground Railroad. But nonetheless we have recently struck a blow for freedom, surreptitiously circumventing the despotic arm of British customs, who has now twice blocked well-intended shipments of Kraft Mac & Cheese from the US (thanks and thanks to those who tried) to our deserving children. We're now in full-tilt visitor season in London and both the Bleichs and Browns have been generous - and courageous! - enough to transport, respectively, KM&C and Cheerios across international airspace and through the Heathrow juggernaut. Indeed, notice the delivery of the latter sans prominent yellow box. (Well played, Lorne and Melanie.) Maria Full of Grace has nothing on these trans-Atlantic mules.

To those so dedicated to our kids having nothing but the best processed cheese food and to saving me well over $5, we salute you.

The Bleichs Hit London

Success was easily defined - and achieved - on the first full day of Tracy's family's visit to London: No one got hit by a car. Beyond that thankful fact, the rest was gravy. My inlaws, sister-in-law, and nephews were understandably knackered following a long day of travel, so after a nice morning of sleeping in and lounging about, we took the No. 98 bus down to Oxford Street (the major shopping thoroughfare in these parts) and then over to Regent Street, the home of Hamley's, one of the world's largest toystores. What a cool place. We had tons of fun going from floor to floor, playing games, trying different toys, sampling candy, and running around. There was one floor that was almost entirely devoted to Legos and elsewhere Evan masterfully jammed to a top score on Guitar Hero. The British kid to his left watched in awe and when Evan wrapped up, the kid reverently proclaimed: "very well done." (They don't say 'good job' here, it's 'well done.') To be sure, Hamley's has neither a chocolate river nor little orange workers, but there was definitely a good kids-of-all-ages vibe going on.

We got lucky with the weather all day - sunny and not cold - so we ambled over to Picadilly Circus and then further to Leicester Square and finally Covent Garden Market. The streets were teeming with people and Covent Garden was surprisingly full for a Sunday evening, including lots of street performers, some of whom had the good sense to include true locals (damn tourists!) in their shows.

Couch Potatoes

Sitting at the nexus of the Rudin/Portnoy/Bleich gene pool, these kids never had a chance.

Pilgrims

Our first non-family visitors trekked to London from Chicago last week. The Browns are well-traveled and we were thrilled (though not suprised) that they came. Lorne grew up in England, so for him it was a chance to show his boys, Evan and Spencer, elements of his past, like the school he attended. That's good stuff. The Browns bookended their travels outside of London by staying with us a couple days at both the start and end of their trip. We had a lot of fun both as families (the boys all get along well) as well as just the grown-ups, who shared a lovely meal over in Marylebone.

Lucky Strike

The other Sunday was a successful outing snatched from the jaws of defeat. Our initial plan was to visit the London Aquarium, which doesn't get the ravest reviews, but is supposedly quite large, has its fair share of sharks, and has at least one fish that looks like Nemo, which is basically the only thing young kids care about or remember anyway. Almost needless to say, the Jubilee Line of the Tube was under repair for the weekend and ran only to Green Park, well short of our destination at Waterloo Station. Clearly informing us of that before we went through the turnstile would have been nice, but the oxymoron of British customer service continues to play out predictably and painfully.

We finally got to the aquarium, which ended up being in the same area as the London Eye (still haven't gone) as well as what appeared to be many other family attractions, all along the south bank of Thames, from which you get spectacular views of the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben. Not at all unlike the whole Navy Pier experience, with lots to do (albeit touristy) and great views of the Chicago skyline. We've been here in London with small children for eight months, so the fact that we've not visited this area renders us either progressive or clueless.

It was really cold and windy that day and the line for the aquarium snaked down the sidewalk for at least 100 yards - way too long a wait with the kids in tow. So we popped into another building next door with a McDonald's (McNuggets are a legit parenting bribe, no?) and there we stumbled across a big indoor play place with lots of games and - you guessed it - bowling. Strangely enough, though McDonald's was a mob scene, the arcade wasn't all that busy.

Ben loves to bowl and this place had short lanes with light balls, so it was perfect for him and Zach. Even Sarah got in the mix. To boot, it was two pounds for ten frames (compared to 48 pounds for the "family budget" option over at the aquarium - that dry British sense of irony never ceases to amuse), so this could well rank as the most cost-effective family entertainment in town. Sometimes it's better to be lucky than good.

Sarah (con't.)

On the Waterfront

Our little family excursion yesterday to Museum in Docklands was an unexpectedly good time. As we Portnoys spend literally all of our time in North and West London, we wanted to check out a different part of town. And as one of our guidebooks flagged this museum as kid-friendly, why not give it a go?

The general destination was an area called Canary Wharf, which conveniently sits on the Jubilee line, making for a straight shot (no transfers!) on the Tube. Canary Wharf is basically the "Wall Street" of London. The last picture above gives a small glimpse at some of the modern skyscrapers that make up the Canary Wharf business district, which was created from nothing only a few decades ago. It was explicitly planned by the British government as a haven to attract giant US and other global financial institutions. We don't give much thought to the viability of big, well-planned office parks in America, but in London, where for centuries banks and brokers have been situated in the tightly jammed "City" of London, such constructs have hardly been viable. Thus, the appeal for Citibank, Lehman Brothers, Morgan Stanley and others to stake their claim in this greenfield (sort of) site far east of the City. Hence, along with the new buildings, the London transport system established the DLR (Docklands Light Railway), an overground train that gives non-Tube riders an additional commuting option.

Having never been to Canary Wharf before, we were pretty impressed - to a point. Skycrapers (though hardly on a Chicago scale), lots of recognizable shops, open squares with whimsical sculptures and mini-waterfalls. Tracy remarked how "American" the area felt and I couldn't have agreed more. Hello Cleveland!

The real destination for our journey was the Docklands museum. As the name of the neighborhood would suggest, this was the central shipping hub for London, which makes sense seeing as how it's situated along the estuary of the Thames, toward the North Sea to the east.

The museum has a clever hands-on kids area where they can interact with different elements of "life on the docks," some of which were quite clever. There was a miniature teetering hull of a ship where you had to balance different parcels of faux silk, tea, and coffee lest the ship tip over; an old-school diving helmet (second picture) with a video screen on the inside that showed what the diver would see in the harbor; and a jigger (yes, that is the technical term) to show how a child could use the physics behind a pulley system to lift heavy bags of cotton or coffee. And then there was a bona fide romper room where the two youngest Portnoys could play, climb, and slide.

The kids' area was swell, but the nice surprise about the museum was how well the "real" part was curated (I was going to say adult section, but it wasn't that kind of place). Having grown up on the banks of the Monongahela, I have a soft spot in my heart for cities where rivers are central to local history. If the Docklands museum was just a dissertation on tugboats and silt, it would have been a snore. But what they did so nicely was tell the entire history of London through the lens of the River Thames. That's hardly a stretch considering England's multi-century empire based on its seafaring power and London's evolution into one of the world's wealthiest cities as a trading hub for cotton, coffee, silk, tea, spices, and so forth. Remember your history lessons about the British East India Company...? There was also a powerful exhibit about London's involvement in the slave trade. We learned about the "triangular" relationship between British ships enslaving west Africans, shipping them to the Caribbean to work on sugar plantations, and exporting sugar (or rum or molasses) back to the UK. To bring this home, the museum building itself was once an actual sugar warehouse (talk about walking in others' footsteps) and is currently applying to become a UN World Heritage site.

Like with the British Museum several weeks ago, here was another museum where Tracy and I could have spent hours really diving in. Oh well - conquering the Docklands will have to wait for another day. We coulda been a contender!

Portobello Road Market

On a chilly Saturday morning last week we headed over to Notting Hill, home of the Portobello Road Market. The street is famous for its antiques dealers and on Saturdays most of the shops are open, along with food stands, buskers, and so forth. I was a bit surprised by the size of the crowd there - I don't know how many thousands of people filled the streets, but it was overwhelming with the kids and our stroller. Still, cool to people watch, see the shops (woulda been nice to actually shop in the shops), nor did I hear the boys complain much about their warm Nutella crepes. Hell, if someone ponied up for me $16 for two pancakes with a shmear of hazelnut chocolate, I wouldn't gripe either.

As most of you will recall from the movie Notting Hill, this was the market - sort of - that Hugh Grant walked through as the seasons changed.... We also came across a travel bookshop right off of Portobello Road (last picture). This must have been the inspiration for Hugh Grant's shop in the movie (the one Julie Roberts stumbles into at the beginning, setting in motion one of the more self-serving roles in recent cinema history, only to be outdone by the same Ms. Roberts playing herself in that oh-so madcap ruse at the end of Oceans' 12).

Guv'nah

While this is not the best week to be a governor in the US, there's never a bad time to be called "guv'nah" here in London. Every now and then, like tonight, a taxi driver gives me a "where to, guv" or a "cheers, guv'nah." Not sure why I like it so much better than mate, boss, mister, sir, or even cap'n.

Deutschland Uber Alles

In my travels, I had never been to Germany, though I've passed through it in on some occasions. It's right there in the middle of the continent so it's hard to avoid. Appropriately enough, I suppose, my first trip through the Fatherland was in 1992 when I traveled by train from Western Europe to the Polish town of Oswiciem, known in German as Auschwitz. On that quiet, peaceful summer day in the Polish countryside 16 years ago, what I was confronted with - as are all visitors to Auschwitz - was horrific beyond description. As such, I won't try.

Over the course of time, a handful of train rides and quick connections in local airports took me through Germany, but it wasn't until last week that at my ripe old age that it (Munich specifically) was my actual destination. And hardly a ripple on the water at that - I went there for a brief client presentation and was in the country for all of 22 hours. A walkabout, this was not.

Waiting for a delayed flight at Heathrow has a whole host of discomforts associated with it, but the unease I felt while waiting to board the plane was something different altogether. My thoughts were a jumble, to be honest. There was the straight-at-you feeling that my destination that day was the perpetrator of unspeakable crimes, against my heritage in particular, and it wasn't as if a splinter faction of kooks were solely responsible. I did not have any relatives die in the Holocaust, but I certainly know those who have. Regardless, it's a terrible and defining moment for Judaism, and one could argue for humanity. Within a generation there will be no living survivors so I passionately believe it's the responsibility of me and those like me to keep that memory alive. The phrase "Never Again" is simple and profound, but those who think that it holds true today have not been paying attention or even reading the newspaper.

At the same time, I thought I was being a bit melodramatic. I mean, leaving aside an innocuous, brief business trip, what was the big deal, really. What was on my mind occurred 65 years ago, it's not like a lot of apologies and restitution haven't taken place since then, and most importantly the place has largely evolved into a diverse, modern, and even progressive society. Time heals all wounds, no?

And such was the back and forth in my noggin as I made my way from London to Munich. I barely saw Munich itself, as just a fraction of the scant hours I spent there were in daylight. What little I did see (of course, partly on my ride from the airport, where all faithful Adventure readers know I do my best thinking) struck me as quite nice, and even there I felt a pang of guilt thinking I'd like to have more time to poke around. The contrast between the classic and the modern - the heavy stone facades of Bavarian architecture mixed with the lightness and air of new structures - certainly held the potential to tell a story of a society that has moved forward from its past; one could even suggest more allegorically, from darkness to light. What else would I learn from a day of strolling through town and meeting some locals? And what would my biases prevent me from understanding?

There is no great revelation to be communicated here, I regret to say. This was the most inconsequential of cultural encounters, barely a nick and scrape in a larger demolition derby. And whatever facile observations I might put forth here, the one thing I can't shake when traveling these parts is the inescapable weight of history. For reasons I could visit on another occasion, it feels more present, more immediate here in Europe than it does back home in America.

Barcelona

If I were a freelance travel journalist instead of a hedge fund analyst (oh, to dream), I'd look to write a piece called, "Barcelona: Coolest City on the Planet?" The question begs the answer, which I could argue is certainly yes.

I won't write a tome about this trip, but I could. Suffice it to say, we had a blast. Blessed by warm sunshine much of the time, this was the most family-friendly of our destinations thus far. We made the smart decision on days 1 and 2 to take one of those double-decker tour buses (top picture) that goes through the whole city and allows you to get on and off as you please. This gave us the chance to see much of the town without the hassle of subways or expense of taxis.

We took about 250 pictures during our four day weekend and the ones above don't do our trip or the city justice. We went to the top of the mountain overlooking Barcelona, with spectacular views of the city and the Mediterranean sea and a brief visit to a lovely little amusement park called Tibidabo; took a cable car to a different peak to visit the old city fortress; the Miro museum; Parc Guell (major highlight); La Rambla; and probably some other things I'm forgetting. Along the way we ate delicious food (I ate enough Serrano ham to justify having my Bar Mitzvah certificate revoked) and the boys tried things like paella and calamari. Is there any better way to eat with a family of small children than tapas?

Beyond the specific sites and activities, Barcelona just has a great vibe. The design & architecture, the food, the mountains & sea, the people. It's very cool.

Guess Who's Walking....

The Long View

When a 3 year old sits quietly and stares into the distance, what is he thinking about?

Good Intentions

What do you get when you combine one of the world's most popular museums, three children whose ages sum to 9, and an overeager father stupid enough to think he could get the time to enjoy it?

The answer to this loaded question, you can surmise, is a not-great Portnoy family outing. I've been wanting to go to the British Museum for ages and it being a typical grey, blustery Saturday, we thought we'd give it a go. The kids, Tracy, and I all love museums, so what could go wrong? It even started out fine given that Tube actually got us there trouble-free, entrance is free (a dizzying concept in this town), and the museum, like the Tate Modern, has a "kids' desk" that organizes a variety of age-appropriate scavenger hunts.

Notwishtanding photos of smiling children above, it was a challenging - and brief - experience. It simply wasn't a kid-friendly (or stroller-friendly) museum. We did do the antiquities search designed for 3-5 year olds (even as I just typed that out, it sounds ridiculous, don't you think?). The search all took place in one room devoted mostly to Buddhist sculpture and art. And having just returned from the "Nalanda Trail", why not delve into more South Asian civilizations! Yeah, right. I guess the boys liked snooping around for the right numbered display case and trying to sit and place their hands/fingers in the same fashion as Mr. Siddhartha himself. But this was a short-lived and (let's face it) not fun exercise. A number of exhibits, like the Terra Cotta warriors (temporary exhibit) and the Rosetta Stone, probably the museum's most famous holding (last picture), will have to wait for another day.

Lessons learned, probably. I will definitely try to make it back, either by myself, with Tracy, or maybe even just with Ben. As we just experienced at the Miro museum in Barcelona last weekend, he does seem to really enjoy listening to the blurbs about different pieces on the headsets provided by the museum. There's no way that he understands what they're talking about (I often don't - beware art historians with digital recording technology), but we're certainly not going to discourage him from pursuing this activity.