Quick London Trip

 The ultimate life hack for travelling on a budget is tacking personal travel onto a work trip.  The uni I worked for in Australia called this "dual purpose" travel, which I find a charming and fitting term.

I've done this twice before, to Singapore on my way to India and to Perth and Rottnest Island after a conference in Western Australia.  I am just now, seven years later, realizing I didn't blog that trip, which is a damn shame.  Google what a quokka is.  The cuteness will dazzle you!

When a 24-hour work trip to London popped up, plus the offer to fudge the flight dates for personal use, I added an extra night to live my best big city life.  I could've added two (or even three!) but let's not get greedy.

You may remember my traumatic London trip 2.5 years ago to see my lover Jeff Goldblum.  That trip remains in my memory largely a positive one, but has taught me to build Fort Knox around my phone when I'm in a big city.  I looked like I was holding onto my intestines to keep them from falling out, when really I was just keeping a hand on my phone at all times.  That is to say, I looked insane.

The work thing started at noon, so to make it there on time I had to begin my day at 3:30 a.m.  That wasn't particularly fun, but if somebody else is paying for the ticket I'm shutting my corn hole and flying the friendly skies without complaint.

Me and about 25 other student advisors and guidance counselors were gathered to learn about their school so we can advise students and encourage them to go there.  This recruitment tactic also comes a dose of wining and dining.

I absolutely love to be wined and dined!  Particularly on somebody else's dime.  Or in this case, pence.

It was very informative, and I genuinely hope to funnel students there in the future.  But before getting back to my day job I had 22.5 hours to cram in as much touristing as I could and do whatever I wanted [and had meticulously planned] in London.

My initial thought was to pick up what I missed on my last trip, a visit to the British Museum, but as my evening plans took shape I realized I wouldn't have enough time to do it justice so it got pushed off yet again.

But I simply cannot go to London without seeing something historical.  Typically this means something WWII, which is my great love and obsession.  But the best in the vicinity was a former bomb site that has since been turned into a swanky hotel.  Hardly a top priority in its modern form, so I had to find something better.

London Palladium

Oh, a theatre, not showing anything I planned to see.  Ok?

This is where the Beatles began their global domination!  A dream tourist destination for me!

I love The Beatles so much.  My dad got me onto them at a pretty young age, and is a connection we share today decades later.  In 8th grade we had to do a big research project on any topic we wanted.  I was fourteen years old in the mid-90s and my topic was The Beatles.  Rock on!

In October 1963 they performed on a show called Sunday Night at the London Palladium.  While they were not completely new to the scene prior to this appearance, the show catapulted them to national fame and eventually international fame.  Voila, Beatlemania was born.

Apple Corps HQ

Another building that, while pretty to look at and located on Savile Row where the fancy tailors reside, doesn't seem to be of any particular note to the casual observer.  Except!

The Beatles owned this building for several years and performed their last concert on the rooftop, which I'm sure you've seen footage of.  If you haven't you are lame and devoid of joy.

Where it all began and where it ended, all within 8 minutes walk of each other.  As a lifelong Beatles fan I thought they were absolutely worth the quick visit.  The Abbey Road zebra stripe crosswalk is a fair way away from here, but is absolutely on my bucket list.  Next time!  One of the many things I love about London; there's always a next time.  

With my brief historical detour complete, I headed to the activity that beat out the British Museum to fill my afternoon:

Good old fashioned retail therapy, on Oxford Street which is probably one of the busiest shopping streets on the planet. 

For that reason alone I really don't recommend it, but based on the location of my evening activities I really didn't have other alternatives for shopping.  Plus, I am willing to put up with untold pain and suffering in crowds to access a TK Maxx (TJ Maxx's fab foreign cousin), Primark and Marks & Spencer Food Hall all within walking distance of each other.

I could grocery shop at an M&S Food Hall for a full business day, I swear.  Foreign grocery stores are a great love of mine.  The pre-made sandwich section at M&S, especially.  Cheese & celery?  Chicken & stuffing?  Wensleydale & carrot chutney?  The American mind literally cannot comprehend these sandwich combinations because they are just insane.  I love it while simultaneously being scared and confused by it!

Several hours of shopping in crowded conditions left me with a pretty good haul:

Christmas is just around the corner, and I got enough loot to last me into the next cycle of birthdays mid-next year.

After a few hours of intense shopping and bag carrying I headed back to my self-paid hotel, which was a significant downgrade from my previously paid for room, to shower and relax.  A budget 3-star place, there was a surprisingly legit view from my window of the iconic BT tower:

My evening plans:

French restaurant Brasserie Zedel

I cannot tell you the last time I ate at a French restaurant!  Which is a damn shame because it is (probably? maybe?) my favorite type of food in the world (sorry, Italian, ya basic).

With all the cuisine choices in the world at my fingertips, this is what I went for.  I could have salvaged the highly regarded Indian restaurant that was previously ruined for me by thieving assholes, but my longing for French food was too great.  Deer stew with a side of buttered green beans cannot be beaten by anything the subcontinent has ever produced.

I was joined at this fine French restaurant by a long time student of French and, like myself, a one time student of the University of Edinburgh, Marie-Claire.

It was her French knowledge that showed me that the pheasant I wanted to order was unfortunately not available on the day of the week that we were there.  Apparently my dumb ass didn't pick up on what the "du jour" section of the menu meant.

We had a great time catching up on life and kids (four between us), as we hadn't been together since a wedding in 2018 when we were both young(er), careless and child-free.  That was the second-to-last wedding I've been to and let me tell you I am dying to go to another one!

The restaurant was literally a 3 minute walk from our evening plans - the theatre.  Let me be clear: 

I don't ever want to take a trip to London without seeing a show.  Looking into the history books this was my fifth trip to London, and this is the fourth show I've seen (if you count Jeff Goldblum's jazz concert, which you should).  I have one show to catch up on!

Hadestown on West End

West End is the Broadway of London.  All I knew about this production is that it is based on Greek mythology - a growing interest of mine - and won multiple Tonys on Broadway.

Unfortunately, the show didn't really do it for me.  There were a few standout performances but I found it overall tedious to sit through and really repetitive.  Or maybe I was just comparing it too much to the Netflix limited series Kaos, which tells the same broad story amazingly well and stars...wait for it...Jeff Goldblum!  That is an impossibly tough act to follow.

But I was glad to have seen any show at all, and there's no way I'd rather end a day in London.  

Fun fact: this was my first trip flying into Heathrow airport, after declaring many years ago that I never, ever wanted to fly through that behemoth.  But as Confucius once said, she who buys not the ticket shuts the hole in her face.

My last cultural experience was a trip to what very well might be my UK spiritual home:

Pret a Manger is a pre-made sandwich shop which, amazingly, had ample seating for singles in Terminal 2 and drinkable coffee .  What is it about these Brits and their expertise in pre-made sandwich making?!  It's so simple and random, but the quality and vast selection is endlessly entertaining to me.  You'll never hear an unkind word about British food from me.

Until we meet again, London!  Save an eel & chutney sandwich for me.

Tuscany

Before we even got to Oktoberfest last year, our Munich friends asked if we would want to meet them in Italy for Easter next year. 

Daycares in Norway close for the entire week prior to Easter, which means we have to entertain the kids at home or entertain them somewhere fabulous.  Not a difficult decision if you ask me.

But the four of us and our combined 4 kids was not enough.  We have many other European dwelling friends, exclusively former classmates of Martin at the University of Edinburgh circa 2010, so we cast a wide net recruiting others to join us.

Nine adults got in the fun!  Plus 8 kids.

We stayed at an agriturismo, which is a brilliant concept I'd never heard of prior to this trip.  It's a working farm that also offers accommodation.  A farm stay, if you will.  

We had a large house with heaps of bedrooms and even more bathrooms, for 4 adults and 4 kids.  All the others (three couples who had between one and three kids, plus one single) had smaller accommodations just footsteps away.  Our house had a big outdoor terrace and multiuple indoor living areas so everyone could hang out and come and go as they please.  The perfect set up!

Also perfect was the restaurant only a few hundred meters away:

Please don't alert child services to my saying this, but for years I have wanted to "Madeline McCann my kids at a resort in Europe", which is precisely what we did.  What I mean by that is leave the kids sleeping in your room while the adults go to the common area to eat, drink and live!  

If you know anything about that case you know I am an absolute psychopath for even thinking that, but I know this is a very common practice in Europe and that it works drama-free 99.999% of the time.  Thankfully we were not one of the 00.0001%. 

This being a working farm there were lots of animals on display: goats, pigs, chickens, geese and rabbits.

There were reports of a donkey who's allowed to roam free, but it was so free that we never did lay eyes on it.

This place is so kid friendly!  Multiple areas of playground equipment.

Entertainment like ping pong, yard games and bicycles.

Breakfast included, with all the donuts and Nutella two little Ameri-strayla-wegian girls could eat, with tables long enough for our party of 17 to cause an absolute ruckus.

A pool!

But the weather was nothing short of shite on this trip, so our pool enjoyment was restricted to one day of questionable sunshine and warmth.  They kids were desperate for a dip so we all sucked it up in the 18 degree C (65 degree F) temperature.

Two truths emerged from this trip.  All things are possible with:

• alcohol 
• the desire to entertain and tire out these kids

In an effort to achieve #2 and to get a smidgen of actual travel out of this trip, we took our massive dog and pony show on a road trip for two of the days of our week-long trip.

San Gimigano

I have not one photograph to show you of this place, as it was downpouring too hard to take out my phone and snap a picture.  Enjoy this stock photo from Google instead:

 Actually that's not true, I did get one photo when we were undercover protected from the rain, soaking our freezing asses off while enjoying what is allegedly the best gelato in the world.

I don't know what gelato authority deemed this, and I'm sure every gelato shop in the country lays a similarly dubious claim, but Gelato Dondoli did legitimately seem like a popular place. 

We all had pistachio, my fave, as it was too rainy and hectic to try a wider variety of flavors.  If the weather would have been at all tolerable this town would have been dreamy and adorable.  All I can really attest to are wet cobble stones and the inside of one restaurant.

The views on the drive there, however, were magnificent.

Imagine what it would look like in the sunshine!  Tuscany really is the land of rolling hills.

Florence 

Blessedly, of the two days we road tripped Florence had the better weather.  I'd definitely rather get a clearer view of Florence (Firenze, as they say in Italian, which I previously hadn't heard) than the tiny San Gimigano.  The sun even made an appearance!

I wasn't even expecting a trip into Florence, so did zero research about the place and what to see.  Thankfully our travel companions were well informed, so I just followed along and snapped pictures merrily since I missed out on all the photo ops in San Gimigano. 

 After the Duomo di Firenze cathedral (above) it seems like the biggest sight to see is the Ponte Vecchio bridge...which I do not have a picture of because we were standing on said bridge.  However Martin got one of the best pictures ever of the girls while we were on it.

How funny is that?!  Epic photo bomb.

Sadly I did not get to see Michelangelo's statue of David at the Uffizi museum as that takes time, planning ahead and no children - all of which I lacked.  I hope to see it someday! 

I declared that we should all come back in 15 years and relive this trip without bambinos (at that point the youngest - not mine - will be 16.5).  No Madeline McCann'ing needed for a group of empty nesters!

There was an overpriced carousel in the middle of town, which we naturally had to stop for.

In a "what a small world" moment, we happened to be in Florence on the same day as a far away friend! 

Don't get too excited; this was by no means an accidental bump in.  I knew she was in town and planned this meet up with Allie from Pennsylvania.  

She is the sister of Pia from last years trip to Copenhagen, and was on this blog before from her cousin's Queensland wedding back in 2016.  I'd never met her new(ish) husband before and hadn't seen her since 2021, so it was nice to briefly catch up on their whirlwind trip of Italy that included more Michelangelo statues and less wild donkey searches.

Back at the agriturismo I had arranged an Easter egg hunt for the hoard of kidlets, including a neighbor kid who was alone with her parents.

Do you know what a phenomenon little plastic eggs are in Europe?  It is mental how this simple, cheap item hasn't made its way to Europe for use at Easter.  In Norway kids get one giant paper mache egg filled with candy in place of an Easter basket.  My dinky little eggs have impressed many parents, and of course dazzled every kid who goes on a traditional American Easter egg hunt. 

As you can imagine, we ate good in Tuscany.  Good food and good wine!

I discovered a new type of pasta, called pici.  Wikipedia describes it as "fat spaghetti".  

I had it two different times at restaurants with deer meat and pork sausage.  Of course it was cooked al dente, and you could really feel that with the thickness of the noodle.

The dish on the left there is "onion soup" which I was expecting to be French onion soup.  Of course, this ain't France so this ain't French onion soup.  The blondness of the soup disturbed me!  While it was tasty enough, it was no French onion soup.

With such a gaggle of kids the adults did a lot of eating at home and our single friend Max was an absolute rock star and cooked for us while the rest of us put the kids down.  

Somebody marry this man, seriously.  He's a catch!

The kids mainly ate at home, which was predictably a nightly circus.

But the times we did take the kids out they did so impressively well!  We have come a long, long way since Copenhagen 9 short months ago when we learned (the hard way) that our girls were incapable of sitting down at a table and dining in public.  We've prioritized fixing this problem and our hard work has paid off!

Our main sustenance throughout the week was bistecca alla fiorentina, which is a big honkin' thick t-bone steak cooked super rare. 

Martin had it multiple times and would've happily had it for every meal.  Don't get me wrong, it was a good piece of meat but when I'm in Italy I am there for the pizza and pasta, not raw meat.

Of course we had gallons upon gallons of wine, beer, Prosecco, Aperol and my Italian favorite, limoncello!

We had such a great trip with this huge crew.  I hope we're able to recreate it in other exotic destinations, and we are actively on the hunt for similar set ups in different European destinations.  

It fit our needs of entertaining the kids, entertaining ourselves, reuniting with good friends and breathing life back into our once-thought-dead travel lives.

Oktoberfest in Munich

In a hungover state the day after the event I learned that Oktoberfest is the second largest festival in the world, after Carnival in Rio de Janiero.  After seeing the crowds in one single tent (one of 38) I am not at all surprised by this information.

Our friends Philipp and Lara moved to Munich, home of the OG Oktoberfest, just prior to the event in 2023, which ironically starts in September.  I wasted no time securing our spot for Oktoberfest 2024 as I knew they would have visitors lining down the block wanting to stay with them, and I was absolutely right.  First in, best dressed as the Aussies say!

They came to visit us earlier in the year, making them our tenth visitors since we got to Norway a mere 3 years ago.  We went to their wedding in 2018 (seven months after they attended ours) and I stopped for a weekend at theirs in Singapore on my way to India.  The icing on the cake of these great friends is they have kids just a tish younger than ours.  

Having young kids complicates beer drinking activities, but as I learned a few months prior in Copenhagen, the key to making travel with kids happen is to have other kids for ours to play with.  Their huge apartment and novel selection of toys meant we could get down to the very important business of drinking lots and lots (and lots) of beer while the children entertained themselves.

But first, one cannot attend Oktoberfest in regular street clothes!  One must outfit themselves in a dirndl (ladies) or lederhosen (gents).

What I love about tracht (traditional German garments) is the diversity.  I swear no two are the same, at least for the ladies, and there are literally thousands upon thousands of different styles on display, all of them stylish and gorgeous.

October 3rd is German Unity Day, a public holiday to commemorate East and West Germany reunifying, though the date the wall actually fell was November 9th, so I'm quite confused as to why this holiday is in early October.  But no complaints here, as it falls during Oktoberfest and our friends were off work that day.  With most Germans off work (the rarest of rare sights) the atmosphere was very much bumping and festive for us.

It is possible to walk in to find a seat at most tents, I think, but I know it's best to book a table in advance.  I never wrapped my head around the whole process, and thank goodness we had people to do our bidding for us because managing all that on our own seems highly overwhelming and, in true German style, only available in German.  I just showed up looking fine and let others do all the choosing and booking for me.

Let me just say there was not as much boobage on display as I was anticipating.  I would say the dirndls that were really tarted up were worn by tourists while the German ladies were surprisingly buttoned up and conservative.

Our daytime booking was at the Fischer-Vroni tent, known as a more adult and civilized tent, with a capacity of 3,162.  It's also known for their fish on a stick:

Though I saw them being smoked outside I never actually saw anybody eating one inside.  But I saw plenty of people eating these bad boys:

Ours was one of the 17 large tents, and there are 21 small tents.  From what I can tell the difference is small tents seat hundreds of people and large tents can seat thousands.  

Over the 2 week event this year there were 6.7 million visitors who consumed...drum roll please...7 million liters of beer.  My guess is I contributed about 15 of those liters when you factor in the radlers, a.k.a. shandy, which is beer mixed with lemonade.

Each tent has a band or, I'm guessing, multiple bands based on the number of hours they are rocking out.  Our band was on a boat-looking platform, this being a nautical themed tent.

They play mostly German folk tunes I'd never heard, but they snuck in several more recognizable tunes, especially as the crowd got drunker.  My personal favorites were Achey Breaky Heart, Sweet Caroline and 99 Luftballons, German edition.  Those last two really got the crowd going and were a turning point in drunkenness for the day, I would say.  

Still haunting my dreams is Ein Prosit, a song that encourages you to chug your beer.  I don't know how true this is, but the friends of Philipp and Lara we were with said that the tents estimate their beer sales based on how frequently this song is played.  And it is played a lot.  Max every 15 minutes, maybe more.

I'm so impressed by how much the waiters can carry at once!  I only saw male waiters, as where popular culture previously led me to believe most were female.  Word on the street is they can make €20,000 in a single two-week Oktoberfest, and I believe it.  They work so incredibly hard and it must be exhausting on all levels.

We had a hearty German lunch, perfect for soaking up several liters of beer, which were brought out on these massive trays that are 3x the size of any restaurant tray I've ever seen.

I never saw a single spill or drop, which is almost impossible to believe with all the drunken people wandering around and the massive loads that these waiters carry.

Our booking was from noon to 5pm, the most civilized booking time, both in terms of milieu and having kids at home with a babysitter.  Our table was up on the second floor, which means no standing on the benches (lest you fall over the ledge and die) so we were in the most civilized part of the most civilized tent.  It was perfect for me!  But make no mistake, it was no stodgy tea party.  "Civilized" just means nobody was vomiting in the aisles or body surfing naked along the tables.  There was much drunkenness to be had in our civilized tent. 

After many pints, much gaiety and 50 repeats of Ein Prosit our delightful booking time was over.  We had to skedaddle so they could prepare for the boisterous 6-10:30pm seating. 

So time for more Oktoberfesting!

For the ladies at least.  And in a new tent this time, Armbrustschutzenzelt.

The papas would be reuniting in Berlin in less than one month for a concert and weekend away from parenting responsibilities, so you damn well better believe that it was the mamas who took the opportunity to kick on after our regularly scheduled boozing ended.

This time we had no booking, so had to do the dreaded walk-in scramble to find a table with strangers.  There were 4 of us, and the bigger the group the harder it is to find an open table.  As the only non-German speaker among us all I did was shut up and follow them until we found our place, which seemed incredibly quick and easy (though admittedly my memory was fading at this point).

This place was way wilder than the previous tent, though the time of day (and hours spent drinking by everyone in attendance) almost certainly plays a factor in that.  It felt way more tightly packed, but then again we were in gen pop here, rather than the luxurious mezzanine.  Exclusively standing on the benches was pretty much expected here.

We tapped out at about 9 p.m. - nine hours after we started - and promptly wolfed down a currywurst, which I had wanted to eat but thought was strictly a Berlin delicacy.  And then we...rode a freaking roller coaster?

The question mark is because it feels like a fever dream that didn't actually happen, but I am 99.5% sure it did.  A drunken roller coaster!  What ever could go wrong?  Thankfully no barfing occurred...that I can recall.

The next morning I, predictably, felt rough as guts (again, Aussie saying).  How do Germans cure this unpleasant sensation?  A pot of white weiners, of course.

Along with hair of the dog - which I was having none of, thank you very much.

We went to Der Pschorr, a really beautiful brewery and restaurant located on the popular outdoor Viktualienmarkt farmers market.

The weather was pretty terrible for 90% of our visit, which sadly put the kaibosh on any desire I had to see the sights of Munich.  We had been once before, in early 2011 during our Edinburgh student days, but were there strictly to see friends and spent all our time drinking and none of our time sight seeing.  One of these decades I'll actually see the city of Munich, but the 2020s is not that decade.

While Martin and the boys went out seeing a little bit of the city (namely the inside of more breweries) the ladies went straight home with the kids for some much needed napping and hangover recovery.

The next day the skies cleared just long enough for us to make a return to the Oktoberfest fairgrounds, this time with our adorably dressed children in tow:

Authentic matching German dirndls!  Theirs were more authentic than mine and, as such, actually cost more than mine did!  But rest assured Martin's all-leather get up cost more than the three of ours combined.

We visited Oide Wiesn with the kids, an old timey tent that, unlike Oktoberfest as a whole, has a small entrance fee.  We dined on the classic German dishes of spaetzle, schnitzel and schupfnudeln.  I swear if I had to choose one cuisine to eat for the rest of my life it very likely would be German.

And took what just might be my favorite picture of Fiona ever:

How adorable is this?!  Note this is apple juice...in a super heavy half liter stein.  It was ridiculously heavy for a vessel intended for children.  Impressively these Germans don't coddle their kids with sippy tops and straws.

We took a spin on a few carousels, but time was not on our side as we didn't arrive until late afternoon due to weather.  We would've spent way more time there with the kids if the weather had cooperated.  I had no idea how family friendly Oktoberfest as a whole is, outside of the beer tents.  It's really just a fun fair with a side order of alcohol poisoning!

Finally - finally - on our last day the sun came out and the weather was reliably good for outdoor activities.

We went to Koniglicher Hirschgarten, royal deer garden, a park featuring live deer and an enormous beer garden.  I was disappointed that the deer were behind a fence, as they were free range at the park we visited in Vejle, Denmark.  These picky deer also wouldn't eat the chestnuts we had lovingly gathered for them; they only wanted the pellet food you had to buy at a ridiculous mark-up.

Fascinating thing about the beer garden: most of the eight thousand seats are available for you to BYOFood.

A small number of tables are reserved for the restaurant, but as long as you buy beer you can picnic at the other tables.  I love it!  I currently live where alcohol laws are downright puritanical, so the German culture around normalizing public alcohol consumption is truly fascinating to me.  I wonder if their statistics around alcohol-related social problems (alcoholism, crime, etc.) are better or worse than other places?

I have only one Oktoberfest regret: I didn't see the "Devil's wheel" ride in action, which you may have seen on social media.  It is a hilarious concept and would be so fun to watch.  I saw the outside of it, but to see the action you have to pay to go inside.  My cheap ass would've happily paid to watch that if we had time, but alas there wasn't a moment on the fairgrounds to spare to watch.  Sad, sad.  

I did (pre-drunkenly) get to briefly watch The Toboggan, another hilarious and insane carnival ride, and I wish we had spent our roller coaster riding time watching more of that instead.  These rides are insane!  And must be so dangerous to drunkards like myself who have consumed 15 liters of beer.

And that's a wrap for our 4-day Oktoberfest extravaganza.  It was really great, and made entirely possible by our dear friends in Munich.  Infinite thanks to Philipp and Lara for hosting us!

This trip was a turning point for us.  A first:

The first time we've had to pay for Fiona to have her own seat, because she's now over 2 years old.  Good for my sanity and skeleton, terrible for my bank account!