They're Just Like Us!

The weird wrinkle to our afternoon at Bekonscot was that we walked into the park at the same time as Gwen Stefani, Gavin Rossdale, and their son Kingston. Tracy first noticed a little boy with these hip little jeans and shoes. Then I noticed a guy about my age dressed like an adolescent, with that wallet connected to the jeans with a chain thing I can't stand, a white t-shirt with a single safety pin through the front (?), and really expensive sneakers. Okay then, a bit odd, though he looked kind of familiar. We didn't put it together until up walks a platinum blond with huge black eyeshades and bright red lipstick. No doubt, it was Gwen.

Let's just say that Gavin and I didn't hit it off. He saw me take a picture of them (which I oh-so craftily did from all of 15 feet away with him staring straight at me; I'm a moron) and as he walked passed me mumbled "paparazzi" to which I mumbled "whatever" and gave him a classic Portnoy eye roll. That'll show him. (Further introspection gave light to a series of better zingers, but thankfully, for many reasons, I live much of life in my own mindspace.)

Gwen is enormously pregnant with her second and she, unlike her husband, seemed quite pleasant. We even saw her sign a couple autographs. Tracy was hoping to strike up a conversation with her. "When are you due?" and "Where are you delivering?" were the two trial balloons, the latter intended to trigger a convo on the Great Portland Street Hospital, where all the celebs birth and where Zach had his tonsils out. But it never transpired. Ben, Zach, and Kingston did unwittingly walk together at a couple stretches, such as in the first picture. As they say in US Magazine, They're Just Like Us!

To close, Gavin will be happy to know that these (admittedly uninteresting) snaps go no further than the l'il old blog. Like many of the hip London celebs, they live over in Primrose Hill, where I gather there's now one fewer luminary we'll be hanging out with. Where's Jude Law when you need him?

They Might Be Giants

We found a little gem outside of London this weekend, in the town of Beaconsfield. There's a "model village" called Bekonscot, which a few other families recommended as a nice day trip. Indeed it was. The idea is that it's a miniature version of a classic English village. The detail of its execution was impressive. The third picture gives some sense of the size of the display but certainly not the detail. All of the kids we saw walking down the different paths seemed entranced by it, including our boys who pretended like they were "giants" walking through a town of little people. There was a model train set (more precisely, many trains on a large complex of tracks) that ran throughout the town which delighted children with every passing. Ben in particular loved Beckonscot. By his own initiative, he went through it four times (this place was not small) and each lap the game was discovering new details not seen on the previous go-arounds, which we always did. But Zach was captivated as well and hung in there for a long while. For both, the favorite was a coal mine, which actually isn't surprising given their father's roots just north of Appalachia, the center of coal country in the US. It's in the blood. In addition, there was a real train for kids and grown ups to ride and a big playground to run around and burn some energy. For families with little kids, Bekonscot is a good call.

Graduation Day

The boys' school put on the sweetest little graduation ceremony on Friday. School doesn't wrap up for another couple weeks, but they had it now as many of the students (including most of the Americans) have either left or are about to leave for the summer. That includes us Portnoys as well, who fly back to Chicago on Tuesday. Apparently no expat families stick around for the summer, which makes sense for several reasons, especially the weather, which generally stinks. It's not much nicer here in June or July as it is in November or March. Cool, grey, wet. Same old, same old.

The kids had prepared a number of songs and Ben and Zach were full-throated participants in the chorus. The school director, Caroline, offered some nice words about each of the students. Very warm. They also did a Shabbat service and Ben was chosen as one of the two kids to rip up the challah. Afterwards, the boys hit the road on their rad scooters to hit the park with some of their friends.

Next school year, Ben will be attending the American School of London (ASL) while Zach will move into the the reception class (what Ben just finished) at LJS. We couldn't have asked for a better first year school experience in London. LJS was a warm, nurturing environment that was attuned to the kids' transition, which must have been overwhelming in some ways. But it wasn't just babysitting and for the reception class in particular, they did push the kids academically. Further, as we've alluded to in the past, it also became our community. We met such nice people from all over the world and for Tracy in particular it was a wonderful social outlet. Fortunately, with Zach staying at LJS next year, we'll be able to remain plugged in.

Big Brother, Little Sister

Portnoys & Pilichowskis

We were really happy to finally have our friends Britt and Boris and their little boy Jules over for a barbeque last weekend. We had been talking about getting the families together since around the time we got here, so this was well overdue. Funny how nearly impossible it sometimes is to make what appear to be the simplest of plans. Anyway, the little Weber worked its charcoal magic again and it (the company) was indeed worth the wait. Britt is due with #2 soon, but somehow witnessing our semi-controlled chaos did not sour them on the prospect of a growing family. Jules, on the other hand, seemed a bit bewildered and I believe sensed that it was all down hill from here....

And another!

Happy 6th birthday to Jack Frede! We hadn't made the trip over to Fulham in some time and it was nice to take the 414 across town to celebrate Jack's big day. Kristina did an amazing job putting together a "Speed Racer" theme party, with hand-crafted party favors and a bunch of creative games. The boys had fun and of course Sarah felt more than comfortable at the party. Zach was thoughtful in offering to help clean up before we headed to the bus stop, where he appears to have first expressed his fondness for Gene Simmons.

And another and....

The celebration of Zach's 4th birthday was actually a weeklong affair, starting with the big party at our house, but also included a celebration at school and at his best friend Jason's house, culminating with the closing ceremonies on the actual day (June 13th) with just the five us of at home. We were so cupcaked out at that point that you'll notice we stuck a "4" candle in a stack of cookies. No one seemed to complain.

A Party and Then Another

What a lovely day we had for Zachy's 4th birthday party. Warm, clear weather made it ideal for us to have our entertainer, Mr. Marvel, amuse the kids in the garden (that's backyard to you American-types), which the other day had been weeded, trimmed, and generally beautified by our Dickensian-named gardener, Simon Hornblower. The kids had a blast watching the magic show, dancing to bubbles, and eating pizza and cake. The adults were able to hang out as well and enjoy the sunshine (and pizza and cake). Zoe, our fearless and admired helper, was rapid-fire on organizing all the plates, pizza boxes, wrapping paper, etc., so that by the time 50 people left our house in the early afternoon, our home was virtually spotless. Now that's a nice feeling....

Fortunately, not everyone left at party's end and what transpired was one of those perfect summer afternoons that you could never totally plan; they just have to happen. Maybe it was the gallons of shiraz-grenache blend and that case of Stella or maybe the weather or maybe the smell or charcoal in our little Weber grill sizzling up cheeseburgers and dogs or maybe the kids playing nicely in the garden for hours, but most certainly it was the people. London and this whole thing have been a great adventure but it would be an extended and increasingly hollow vacation without the many friends we've been priveleged to make over the past year. To those that stuck around and gave us what will unquestionably be one of the best times we will have had during this ride: Thanks.

Yellow Shirt

Belated kudos to Ben, who earned his yellow shirt at kickboxing a few weeks ago. The shirt signifies achieving the next skill level (similar to a belt, but the young ones do shirts, not belts). We're so proud of Benji. More importantly, he's really proud of himself, which is sweet to see.

Sharing is Caring

Start 'em young, we say.

Say Anything

Why do I still get goosebumps when I see Lloyd Dobler hold up that boombox outside Diane Court's bedroom window at daybreak? Man, that's a good movie. But what the hell happened to Ione Skye? I'm embarrassed to say that I've not seen any of the 42 projects that IMDB alleges she has starred in (with the exception, of course, of Gas, Food, Lodging, which was awful) since her defining role as Ms. Court.

Glad to Have Hammamet Ya

Technically, I didn't lie in the previous post. I claimed no more planned excursions. By the end of the week, I was a bit fidgety and was hankering to check out the local town. Supposedly, there was a noteworthy casbah (fort) and souk in Hammamet, which was just a 10 minute cab ride away. I cajoled Zachy into going with me by promising an ice cream treat once we got there.

For a 30 minute walkaround, it was fun. Little Z and I had a good time exploring the fort, especially after we had been somewhat aggressively approached by many guys in the market who by no means share the American sense of personal space. Zach's line was that if we went in the fort "all those people would stop talkin' to us." We did get lovely views of the sea and the town from atop and it being late afternoon, the muezzin was doing his call to prayers from the minaret only a block away.

And Zachy, as promised, got his treat.

Daytrip from Hell

Here’s some free advice for our Jewish friends who want to remain incognito in a Muslim country: Tell your kids not to belt out endless loud choruses of “David Melech Y’Israel” while walking through crowded neighborhoods. Just trying to help.

And some more advice for families doing the resort thing: No matter how interesting planned excursions sound, ask yourself whether you really want to be in the sweltering sun with your children who will absolutely hate being at _________ [fill in the blank] instead of by the pool.

Our blank was filled in by the area around the capital, Tunis, to see both Carthage and Sidi Bou Said. I really wanted to see Carthage because of its central role in the history of the region. Before the Greeks and Romans did their thing, Carthage was at one pont the most important city of the Phoenecian (modern-day Lebanon) empire. If you think you find that boring, trying telling it to two young boys, one of whom had a bad tummy-ache after a 1.5 hour bus ride and the other who didn't heed the "don't pick up and throw big rocks around the historically protected site" instructions. (I had images of Chevy Chase knocking down Stonehenge with his car in the vastly under-rated European Vacation - I just can't get left, indeed.) Our tour guide was a young woman who sounded like Kim Carnes with laryngitis and for whom English was her fourth language. Learned a whole lot from her. Oh yeah, also push a stroller through this area and have it be, say, 90 degrees and extremely windy. Let's move on.

With its white buildings with beautiful blue doors and shutters and panaromic hilltop views of the Med, Sidi Bou Said has the reputation as the prettiest town in Tunisia. Might be. I was mostly focused on pushing a stroller with 80 pounds of children up a half-mile long steep grade and when I caught my breath found myself in the middle of an endless strip of tourist-trap shops selling expensive junk. Bargaining in Arab souks has its routine charm - you look around, they give you the "best" price until you faux-walk away a couple times, the price gets cut massively, and you're done. That's fun about once or so. Sometimes you just want to buy that authentic Maghreb bongo drum without taking 10 minutes to save 5 dinar.

All in, the excursion took 7 hours (Tunis on a straight shot was 1 hour from the resort) and we will certainly never do anything like it again.

The epilogue to all this running around stings as well. Just a mere six hours (one way) south of Hammamet is the tiny town of Tatouine. You've got that right Star Wars fans! You now probably (vaguely) recall that George Lucas filmed the scenes of Anakin Skywalker's family ranch in southern Tunisia and the planet was named after the town. (Technically, the filming took place in nearby Matmata, but whatever.) I'm sure if I would have asked nicely, Tracy would've let me run out for 13 hours to check it out.

You Break, You Buy