A month later

Glowing in the dark!

We're back in Ottawa, having been on our travels again, since November 21st in my case; Chris set off a week later and we reconnected in Heathrow on the 29th. Our grandson Alexander came with me to meet his granddad, chattering all the way about his chess club at school. Alex is now 8 and for once I was there for his Birthday, December 5th, a glow-in-the-dark after school party for five boys, with pizza, fruit and cake.

Opening the birthday presents from his friends

After my arrival weekend in London, thrilled to discover when we went to the pool in Teddington that both of my grandsons enjoy swimming nowadays (Thomas wearing a buoyancy vest, Alexander mainly underwater), I travelled by train on a misty, frosty morning to Cardiff to spend four days with Mum, helping her with the shopping and housework, playing Scrabble (I still can't beat her), and visiting a nearby home "for those who find it increasingly difficult to cope at home without assistance." The staff are friendly and the interior's bright enough to cheer up the residents, we hope. Mum's to have a trial stay there next year (she would be the oldest person there, they told us) while my sister's away on a long holiday. One of the rooms is a "cinema" with Odeon style red curtains and red armchairs facing a big screen on which they show the rugby or films like It's a Wonderful Life. Children's art from the local school decorates the walls as does a collection of film star photos from old films, many of them produced in my own childhood which makes me think I must be getting old myself. The dining room overlooks a playground for the great-grandchildren.

My mother at the Christmas market in Cardiff

I took Mum into Cardiff to see if I could find her a better magnifier from the RNIB headquarters, but it would require an eye test first, which she's recently had. While in Cardiff I was amused to see Germanic Christmas market stalls in and around the Hayes, some even selling Bratwurst and Currywurst. With Mel and Faith we also went to a place called Chapter, a "multi-artform cultural space" in Cardiff where we watched the very long film Mr. Turner, starring Timothy Spall. It was rather disturbing, and brilliantly made, the photography the best I've ever seen in a film. Mum said she had trouble following the dialogue, much of the lead character's articulation being curmudgeonly grunts.

Thames bridge at Teddington

Back in London that Friday evening, I met the younger generation of my family at the Christmas Parade down the Hampton Hill High Street, a chaotically British affair, though I found an African bean stew to kept me going. Next morning Alexander chatted away about his chess club on our bus ride to meet Granddad at Heathrow. We all had a walk in Bushy Park that sunny day and on the Sunday a stroll with Thomas down the towpath from the Teddington locks (the "tide's end") upstream to Kingston, while Peter took Alex to a party.

Pool at the Kingston Leisure Centre

The next week Chris and I were in Germany (see separate blogposts, yet to be written), and on my third weekend back in London we were visited by the other grandparents, with lunch for 8 at Red Peppers in Teddington, and went swimming again after a Sunday morning at the new Quaker premises in Kingston, where Emma helps look after the children. The Meeting House is next door to the Kingfisher Leisure Centre, where the pool is.

"Grandma, this is London!"

I was delighted with the progress little Thomas had made in speaking, since I saw him last. He still makes a few charming mistakes with his speech––"My do it!"––and he has some difficulties with constonants, saying 'poon, 'nake instead of spoon and snake, for instance. He doesn't let the difficulties get in his way of telling us about his plastic dinodaurs and the marbeyball (marble) game.

While we were on the Thames I asked if he knew where we were. Thomas replied without any hesitation, as if I were stupid, "We're here!"


With the family, we had taken the local train from Fulwell Station (near Alexander's school) to Waterloo, got off, walked to the South Bank and seen the London Eye, or big wheel, as Thomas called it. Amazingly, because it was only February 2nd, we ate our lunch out of doors, admittedly wearing coats, at Eat, which was popular with families and too crowded inside. I had a tasty and warming bowl of chilli. Then we made our way to the most important place in London on this occasion, the children's playground near the Eye.

After the inevitable bumps, bruises, disappointments and triumphs and mouthful of blood when Thomas bit his tongue while riding the metal chicken, we decided to queue up for tickets to ride on the river. The cheapest way is to catch a river bus, a Thames Clipper, which took us to Greenwich and back for £12 each and showed us all the famous sights from the warmth and comfort of our seats: St. Paul's Cathedral, the Millennium Bridge, the Tower of London, Tower Bridge, Canary Wharf and its skyscrapers. While I was taking my photos Thomas solemnly informed me, "Grandma, this is London." As the river widened, the catamaran could speed up considerably; we anticipated the "whoosh" as it reached that stretch.

At Greenwich we disembarked to take a look at the Cutty Sark and to let the boys run around again. There was an interesting museum in the imposing entrance to the neoclassical Royal Naval College, now the National Maritime Museum (free admission), with activities for the children there too.

We returned upstream by another Clipper boat, passing the Shard (Europe's highest building) and the newly reconstructed Globe Theatre, reaching Hungerford Bridge, from which we could see Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament, by sunset. Then we caught another train "home" that set us down at Hampton Court station. It's only a short bus ride back to the flat from there. His mother asked Thomas which part of the day he'd liked best and he told her it was that bus ride.