London Family Time (Day 4)

Morning time with this group of sweet cousins is so much fun. More than one day I came down (after Vicki or Christian had already been up to sort the littlest kids out, and then returned to bed) and got to play with them all. They are smart and upbeat, full of enthusiasm. The new thing I loved most about this visit with them was Sol's snuggly-ness (with me, at least). He was always happy to climb into my lap for a big hug and to sit for a while, and I am always happy for him to climb into my lap for a big hug and to sit for a while.

The last full day of our visit was a Saturday and so we made a plan for a big family outing to North London. The previous night the grownups went to a pub with some other parents of Alleyn's School students while the kids stayed home with Stella. We topped it off with a late night visit to an excellent kebab shop. But the kids don't let the grownups sleep in for long, so after breakfast and coffee and some playtime we got started.

After getting ready, Abby, Charlotte, Cyrus and I would take the over/underground and ultimately meet the Howard Turners (who were taking a car) in Highgate Village, the Turner family seat in the UK. Our walk took us past the front of the Horniman Museum. This reminds me that Christian said on another day that he had always wanted to have a totem pole in his yard. I assume Vicki will be fine with that.

In the Tube we encountered a friendly mob of young and drunk Santas, presumably heading off to a football match. I can only assume that if their team won, they were even drunker by the end of the day. Also if their team lost.

We left enough time for a stop off in King's Cross station to see Platform 9 and 3/4, from the Harry Potter books. Like the London Eye, this attraction also has a small footprint and is raking in tourist dollars: there was a 45 minute line to get an official photograph of yourself holding the cart wearing a scarf provided by some attendants. We had plans, so didn't wait.

If you look closely you can see the blood of children who tried to walk through the wall and learned the hard way that magic is not real. On the other hand, there was an excellent bathroom right near Platform 9 and 3/4 -- which can seem magical when you really need to go.

We hopped back onto our beloved Northern Line. And a few minutes later we arrived here:

Those stairs down to the station a small side street were a regular part of our lives in Highgate Village. It looks just the same. From there we made our way along the usual route up Jackson's Lane and on the path that brings you out to North Road. We crossed the road to and walked down the access road to catch a glimpse of the cottage Pops, Oma, Christian, and I lived in from 1989-90. It is the small brick building just where the car is parked in this next photo, past the larger house to the right. We didn't want to walk all the way in but got this view.

It was getting close to our rendezvous time with Christian, Vicki, Gus, Sol, and Xan at the Flask pub. So we made our way along North Road into the center of Highgate Village.

     

Coleridge lived in Highgate Village (so, yes, it's possible Mill came there to see him as a young man). And if you visit the marvelous Highgate Cemetery, you can see the graves of both Karl Marx and Herbert Spencer (who would, apparently, later open a chain of shops together), and then get an interesting view into London history by visiting the wilder, overgrown western side of the cemetery that looks fit for a horror movie.

Vicki had the idea of eating at the Flask, a pub we visited during our year there, and where Christian had a meal with his groomsmen prior to their wedding in 2009. The wedding, which took place at Kenwood House on our beloved Hampstead Heath, was another reason for our journey to North London. Our kids knew that their only previous visit to England had been for the wedding, and they wanted to see where it happened. Always interested in retracing the old pathways, I was happy to oblige.

Anyway, first, lunch. The Flask is a classic old pub but with better than usual fare. And they set out a nice long table for us.

 This seems like a good moment to mention what a treat it is to see my big brother.

Earlier, I noted that Coleridge lived in Highgate Village, but I forgot to mention another great poet who lived there, and died recently: George Michael, author of such lines as

You put the boom boom into my heart,
You send my soul sky high when your lovin' starts.
Jitterbug into my brain,
Goes bang bang bang till my feet do the same.

Jokes aside, Michael really seemed to connect with people, and his death led to the spontaneous creation of this memorial in a small public space in front of his house, just around the corner from The Flask. It is a moving memorial, and speaks to the power of music to help people. My sense is that despite his pop image, Michael was a decent person.

When we lived in Highgate Village, I believe Sting lived in the same row of houses, but I don't know whether that's still true.

We continued our walk to the back path into Hampstead Heath by the Highgate School playing fields. we enjoyed the views over downtown London and the open fields to run around in, and made our way over to Kenwood House.

The bride and groom:

It was through those windows that Vicki agreed to marry Christian (and here I was saying magic is not real).

While at Kenwood, we decided to try to recreate (more or less) a photo we loved from the wedding.

 

We stayed there quite a while, but finally it was time to return home. Vicki, Abby, and the children took the car, while Christian I set off down the Heath toward our old school stomping grounds, over the hills and back in time.

At the southern edge of Hampstead Heath sits the William Ellis School for boys. I did my 4th form there. William Ellis was (I should mention) an associate of John Stuart Mill, and a member of his "utilitarian" society. Christian snapped this photo of the back of the school grounds through the gates.

And then this one of me out front.

Christian was in the 6th form that year, and so attended a class at a consortium of local schools included Parliament Hill, just next to William Ellis, and the Acland Burghley School in Tufnell Park. We headed there next, traversing old territory, including a particular bench at a particular street corner where I used to meet friends after school. The bench is gone, though the red phone booth remains.

We stopped at the Dartmouth Arms for a pint, and then made our way to Forest Hill. Because of traffic, the others had arrived home not long before us. Vicki cooked dinner, and after some play time, we put the children to bed. 

The day ended with parents decorating for Christmas and wrapping presents for the morning.