Partey like it’s your birthday

April 18, 2025 Amy O2 Comments

It actually was my birthday on Saturday, a big one. Lately, they are all big ones. I rarely make a big deal of my birthday because, let’s face it, after a while a person has had a lot of birthdays. However, for this one I treated it like a my 8-year old self would have: I am the center of the universe and no indulgence is too much. We had a family party on the day before we left for London, for which my sister made a beautiful and delicious cake and my kids came home and spent the night.

I treated the whole week in London like carbs don’t count. At all. If I wanted a blueberry brioche for breakfast at Gail’s, which I did almost every day–except the days when I wanted a scone with clotted cream–well, I had it. Yeah, I suspect it might be frowned on to have a scone for breakfast, just like in Italy it’s frowned on to have cappuccino in the afternoon. I have been corrected in Italy for my errors, but no one in England has ever corrected me to my face. I’ve already described the cream beignet I had from Fortitude Bakehouse. Plus I had a big, ol’ Guinness whenever I felt like it. Which was just about every day.

And because it was going to be my birthday on game day and–Champions League excepted–it is easy now to get tickets to Arsenal matches if you’ve put in a ballot, I was excruciatingly picky about where I would sit. No club seats–boring! And why sit in the rafters? I decided I needed to be in the corner or behind the goal in the North Bank, within 6 rows of the field. So that if there was a celebration, I would be right there. I turned up my nose at many a ticket I had in my hand until one finally met all my criteria. My husband held out longer but worked less hard than I did. I ended up finding him a ticket that was even better than mine. His was on the side closest to the substitutes and Mikel Arteta and row 2. When the players would get up to warm up, he’d be right there. Despite how good these tickets sound, these were some of the cheapest seats in the house. They are seats for someone who wants to be in the thick of things. In the thick of things you experience a lot, but you might not see everything.

The day had an inauspicious start. I was awoken at 4 a.m. by someone who was trying to open our hotel room door. When ours would not open, they moved to the one next door and tried that. Then back to our door. This is not really a hotel with a reception area you can call, and I really couldn’t think what to do about this. Meanwhile my husband was sleeping soundly. I let him. Finally, the activities of the person caused an alarm to go off, which did wake up my husband. A bit later we heard the police out in the hallway. What we ultimately heard about what happened is that a guest in the hotel had been “overserved” that night and was having trouble figuring out where her room was. And, using drunk logic, kept trying. After all that excitement, neither my husband nor I could sleep so we started the day.

After the requisite visit to Gail’s which was open quite early in the morning, we found a self-guided walking tour we wanted to do in the neighborhood using Footways. We did the walk from Farringdon station to Angel. There were some cool things to see. London’s only public statute of Henry VIII. He was looking pretty fit at that point. St. John’s Gate. Many lovely gardens, mostly associated with churches. Regent’s Canal. It was meant to be a 26-minute walk. We got lost a lot and it took quite a bit longer.

We had scheduled a tour of the ruins of Billingsgate Roman House and Baths for later in the morning. That was pretty cool. Romans occupied parts of what became London starting in the first century AD. They built homes that ultimately were built on by others, layers and layers of people building over centuries. As people now renovate in London, they sometimes find remnants of Roman life under the surface. This particular archeological find of parts of a Roman home with a Roman bath is under a nondescript office building. We took a guided tour of the site given by City Guides. The bath is largely intact and you can easily visualize the three rooms. So clean and perfect it almost looked fake. I enjoyed the tour very much.

But we were flagging so we took the liberty of having what for me was a fish and chips break at The Hydrant, right next to the monument commemorating the Great Fire of London. We were seating facing the window where the people watching was fabulous. Everyone stopping to take selfies in front of the Monument. The fish and chips were also quite yummy.

From there we decided to take an Uber boat from Embankment to Putney. It was a glorious, sunny and warm day to be on the River. And the scenery was great, until the gentle rocking got the better of me and put me into a deep sleep. I woke up not long before we arrived at Putney Pier. Putney Pier is pretty close to Fulham’s stadium, Craven Cottage. You can see the edge of one of the stands from the Putney stop. From there we walked over to the Tube station and returned to Farringdon.

It was just about time to head over near the Emirates. We were early enough that we decided to visit an Arsenal-friendly pub called The Bank of Friendship. It’s not really a Fuller’s pub but it does have London Pride, my husband’s weakness. The pub was packed with Arsenal fans. We’ve been to this pub before but never before have seen the very nice beer garden. As I walked into the garden I was invited to sit with a group of Arsenal fans. They were a mix of ages, all guys, and I mistook them for a family. But it turned out they were connected by loose friendship and Arsenal kinship to one of the guys. Some of them had only met that day. About that time the lineup for the Arsenal match had come out and we commiserated together about that. As expected, Arteta planned to put out an unusual team, including Thomas Partey at right back, not his best spot. Martin Odegaard, Mikel Merino, and Bukayo Saka were all listed as substitutes. Ben White, only recently returned from a lengthy injury was no where. With our new friends we also had the requisite conversation about Donald Trump.

Our new acquaintances kept saying they needed to leave and then kept going to buy one more beer. I don’t know where they put it all.

At last my husband and I said our goodbyes and walked over to The Emirates. I loved my seats. Although the announcer makes an announcement at the beginning of each match asking fans not to engage in “persistent standing” these were seats for which there is only persistent standing. It’s silly to expect otherwise. People (the ones who remain in their seats and do not go to get beer) do sit down at half-time. I’m pretty short and the rise from one row to the next is not much behind the goal so I had to do a lot of craning and shifting to see stuff over people’s heads. The people around me were spirited and good-natured and it was just fun.

The atmosphere was good, but there was no doubt that everyone in the stadium knew this Premier League match was not the most important focus. And for sure the atmosphere was NOT what it had been for the Real Madrid match on Tuesday. Our position in the Premier League is what it is. We can’t catch Liverpool, not really, and there’s probably very little chance we won’t finish in position to be in the Champion’s League next year. And we do have to be careful. We’ve battled injuries all season, bad ones with long recoveries. We couldn’t afford to lose focus on the upcoming match against Real Madrid at the fearsome stadium Bernabeu. As a fanbase we were for sure hung over from the unbelievable match and unbelievable spirt of the encounter earlier this week with Real Madrid.

I heard a lot of complaining in the press after the Brentford match about how boring it was. I did not encounter it that way. I thought Arsenal played well, and I felt fine about how things were going. Arsenal created plenty of chances to score. Brentford didn’t didn’t accomplish much.

In the second half, Arsenal finally did score. A pretty unusual Arsenal goal, where David Raya created a counterattack by rolling the ball to Declan Rice following a corner kick. Rice came away like a steam engine with three Arsenal players able to spring free and Brentford struggling to get defenders back. Rice passed it to Thomas Partey who rocketed it into the goal right in front of me. And he did celebrate pretty close to me. Arteta made some changes at that point to give some of his stars time to run a bit.

Unfortunately, Brentford, who didn’t do much on the night, did enough to score a goal. I didn’t see much of it live, but after reviewing highlights online afterward, have to say it was a good, opportunistic goal.

Arsenal continued to work hard after that. Our defensive midfielder for the night, Jorginho, who was a starter tonight to give some other folks breathing room, had a serious injury and had to leave the field. Arteta had made all his subs and we have to play about 10 minutes a man down.

We still looked dangerous and it still looked like we could maybe pull off another goal.

We could not. The match ended 1-1. Considering everything, it was good enough.

After the match, my husband showed me the pictures he took from his seat. They were unbelievably good and he loved seeing the details up close, but he said the people around him were very hard to deal with. Everyone was so negative, complaining about very decision Arteta made, every decision the players made. He said Arteta didn’t seem happy all night. It was funny how our experiences were so different just because of people’s attitudes.

It’s been a weird season. We have such a good team but had so much bad luck. Still, we sit in second place, albeit FAR behind Liverpool. We’re still alive in the Champions League, heading to the semifinals against PSG as of this past Wednesday, when we did beat Madrid in their own stadium in addition to beating them at ours. We’ll make a bid for tickets, but if we don’t get them officially, we won’t return to London. I think we learned our lesson this time.

We’re a team on the verge of something awesome, I just know it. But you know me. I always “know” it. And when will the “awesome” happen? No clue.

In my lifetime, if I’m lucky enough to have many more birthdays.

Ghosts, lights & going postal

December 3, 2023 Amy O1 Comment

The first time we came to an Arsenal match, it was during Christmas. We had bought a package that included hotel and match tickets for two matches, a Boxing Day fixture against West Ham (that ended up being postponed because of a Tube strike) and a New Year’s Eve eve match against Newcastle. Whenever we talk as a family about favorite holiday memories, that trip to London is always mentioned. We brought Christmas tree lights in our suitcase with the idea that we might arrange them in our hotel room in the shape of a tree, but the only electrical fixture that was usable was next to a mirror over a dresser. So we hung them around the mirror, prompting songs by our kids of “Oh Christmas Mirror, Oh Christmas Mirror!”

There was actually no need for anything special in our room because London is so beautifully decorated for the holidays.

This trip is the only time we’ve been back to London at this time of year, so my husband and I were both looking forward to seeing it all decked out again. My husband has been preoccupied with his parents’ move into assisted living in Florida, so I did some minimal planning for this trip. Minimal in the sense that every moment from 2 p.m. on Friday was planned, and not one thing was planned for Thursday (all day) or Friday morning.

I had seen information on a museum I thought my husband would enjoy, the Postal museum, situated at the site of an underground railway used for many decades in mail delivery. As a part of your visit, you can ride a train through some of the tunnels that accommodated the cars that carried mail. Unfortunately, it hadn’t occurred to me that the museum would be such a popular option. When we arrived on Friday morning after a delicious breakfast at Gail’s bakery in our neighborhood, all available visitor spots had been sold out for the day.

So we went back toward the Thames and had a leisurely lunch before the play we had booked, Ghosts. Ghosts was running in the Sam Wanamaker theatre, a small indoor space inside Shakespeare’s Globe theatre. The play is performed under the light of about 80 candles, which are laboriously lit at the beginning of the play by one character and laboriously put out at the end of the play by another. Candlelight aside, this was a very dark play about family secrets. Somehow we had considered dozens of lighthearted holiday productions and selected this one instead. Holiday fare it was not, but it was an excellent production and I’m glad we chose it.

We left to walk over along the Thames to a holiday light installation at Southbank Centre. Very cool.

In fact, you could also say very cold. Bone chilling dampness made my husband realize that we were very close to Gordon’s Wine Bar, so we crossed the bridge hoping to find ourselves in the cozy wine caves. Instead, we were offered outdoor seating which might not have fit the bill but turned out to be under a huge, very functional heating lamp.

After a very relaxing glass of wine and some warming, we walked back to St. Paul’s area for dinner at Krua, a Thai restaurant. Very delicious. And, because there are so many lights to see, we took the tube afterward into the shopping districts where some of the most fun holiday light displays are.

Our route back to the hotel took us over Tower Bridge, where the most fun light display of all is visible. The top of The Shard, the iconic tower near Tower Bridge, was fully lit in dozens of fun, moving & sparkly patterns. I enjoyed seeing it all over the city, but had the best views of it from Tower Bridge. Here are a few of the way too many pictures I took.

A packed day in a beautiful, bone-chillingly cold city.

Touring with James Joyce

May 28, 2023May 28, 2023 Amy OLeave a comment

It was cheaper to fly into London and then to Dublin, and we had a very long layover. In an effort to have a quick adventure in London, we investigated checking our luggage early but were rebuffed by Aer Lingus. In the end, we took it with us and took the Piccadilly line to Gloucester Road. We had a coffee and pastry from Gail’s Bakery and then lunch at a pub we’ve visited before, the Heredsford Arms. Yes, dessert first, then main. Life is unpredictable. The blueberry and custard brioche was worthy of that order. Then back to Heathrow.

We were in Dublin for four nights total. How we organized our time was very much focused on something important to my husband. As a young person he became acquainted, and ultimately obsessed, with the Irish writer, James Joyce. His Masters studies were focused on Joyce and his Masters thesis was about “The Dead,” a short story in Dubliners.

When our youngest child was born almost 22 years ago, we foolishly went to the hospital for a scheduled c section with a too-long list of possible boy’s names and a too-long list of possible girls’ names. After our son’s birth, we were able to throw out one list, but the remaining list had not settled a serious family political issue. My husband had been named for his father, and there was some desire and some pressure to follow suit with our son. (Meanwhile, our 3-1/2 year old daughter told everyone the baby’s name was “Trickely Thomas.”) Looking at our newborn son, we decided he most looked like a James. This was not the multi-generation family name that would have brought the happiest family resolution, but we went forward with it. My mother-in-law had come into town to care for our daughter during the week of the birth. I don’t know whether she really believed this or was simply making peace, but she told the family our son was named after James Joyce. Everyone knew how much my husband loved James Joyce. It was accepted.

James Joyce grew up in Dublin in the late 19th century and though he left Ireland early in life, most of his works were set in Dublin. When he wrote Ulysses, he told an interviewer that it had been his intention for anyone to be able to visually reconstruct Dublin simply by reading his book. His wishes were granted for the people who are able to undergo the effort required to read it, but it is entirely possible that the writing of this celebrated book did truly preserve for the rest of us parts of Dublin that may not have survived. For example, 100 years later, it is still possible to visit a cafe mentioned in the book and buy a Gorgonzola sandwich, just as one of the characters in the book did.

A few months before we left for this trip I tried to read Ulysses, about two men living one day in Dublin. I couldn’t get past the first page. So you get the picture. We were in Dublin, one of us loving James Joyce and understanding Dublin through his literature and one of us knowing very little about him.

Using James Joyce to guide our journey was still a great way to tackle Dublin. We started at the James Joyce Centre associated with Trinity College, where we took a wonderful walking tour to see some of the sites important to James Joyce, the emerging writer, and to plot points in his books. I would guess I was one of the few people on the tour who was not a Joyce lover and what I loved best was seeing my husband with “his people,” including our excellent guide, Josh, who grew up in Buffalo, NY and fell in love with James Joyce and Dublin so much he never left.We also visited a Martello tower along the coast that Joyce lived in for a few days and where he set a scene in Ulysses. My husband was quickly adopted by the volunteer tour guide, Nile, clearly a Joyce fanatic, while I enjoyed the beautiful scenery and watching people swim and laugh in a pool in what looked like a very cold sea—something people had long enjoyed doing, even during the time Joyce found himself there. We also visited the Museum of Literature Ireland, which has a great exhibit on Joyce.

We visited every James Joyce site we could find on the map we had received at the James Joyce Centre by the time we left Dublin. As my husband was taking a picture at one of the sites, he said, wistfully, “I just wish there was someone I could share these pictures with.” The person in his life who had loved James Joyce as much as my husband, Professor James Frakes at Lehigh University, passed away many years ago.

I dedicate these pictures of my experience touring Dublin through the lens of James Joyce to the people in our lives who become captivated by something or someone, changed by it, guided by it. We may not ourselves understand that something or someone, but we can honor it, and love them even more for it.

With no regard for James Joyce at all, we also visited Howth where we hiked along the Cliff walk, visited the Guinness factory which concludes with a pint in a rooftop bar, strolled in St. Stephen’s Green, and visited the General Post Office Museum focused on the Easter uprising of 1916. Highly recommend all four.