All month I’d been looking forward to my family’s visit to London. They scheduled their trip shortly following the New Year and every weekend thereafter, Josh and I did something new to prepare. One weekend we purchased Billy Elliot tickets, another we researched soccer (or football) games in the area; of course there was the grand cleaning and grocery shopping; and finally, a week of anticipation and excitement. Not only was it our first time entertaining visitors from the US, but it also the first time we were going to see my mom, dad and brother since September. I was eager to show them our flat, our town, and our lives as Londoners.
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| From Left: John, Josh, Me, Dad, Mom |
Through my blog, I think you’ve become quite familiar with the way things usually go for us. In the end, all might be well, but it doesn’t come easy. So I think now’s the time to let you in on a little known secret. Our blunders in London are not isolated or coincidental, but rather part of my genetic makeup—a strand of distinct DNA that has been generously passed down from generation to generation of mishaps. So with the Fallon forces joining together, it goes without saying that our perfectly woven plan began to degenerate rather quickly.
The evening before my family’s flight, Mother Nature inflicted a storm upon the East Coast that ravaged the New York/New Jersey area with an unprecedented amount of snow and ice. When the numbers came out in the morning, my parent’s NJ town was the lucky winner coming in at 19 inches of snow, while pretty much the rest of the state was hit with 15. Not that 15 isn’t bad in its own right, but the fact that the small town my parents live in somehow managed to accumulate an additional four inches is just plain… expected! It’s like those Peanuts cartoons where the single black cloud only rains on Charlie Brown.
In an effort to beat the system, the three of them set off to the airport extra early prepared to spend the night at Newark Liberty International if they had to. Learning from my previous travel mistakes, my mother jokingly asked if everyone had their passports before trekking off. It was more of a rhetorical question meant as a hat-tip to my blog, but John (my brother), surprised her when he jumped up and exclaimed he had forgotten his! (I’m telling you, it’s genetic.) With that, he darted from NJ to NY in freezing conditions, and then raced back to NJ to meet my parents at the airport.
Fortunately they all managed to make it on time, passports, luggage and sanity in tack… unfortunately, the plane hadn’t. After two and a half hours of weather delays the flight finally boarded with one minor issue. The toilets weren’t flushing! While it must’ve been incredibly irritating to sit on the runway for an additional hour while the plumbing was fixed, it’s probably best that the situation was remedied before the plane took off and the in-flight meal was served. (I apologize for the mental image.)
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| Before the Show |
Despite it all the family arrived in one piece, ready for a good time (and a stiff drink)! And a good time (and many drinks) we had! On Saturday we saw Billy Elliot, celebrated my mom’s birthday with gourmet pizza and caramel cake and bar-hopped on Brick Lane.
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| Bday dinner! |
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| Victoria Palace Theatre |
The next interesting part of our soccer excursion was the concessions. By halftime the stadium had run out of hot dogs and hamburgers, leaving us to choke down five meat pies and a pasty (meat filled pastry that looks similar to an empanada, but tastes like a foot). With one tear of the pasty package the noxious odor was released, warning our bodies that this was not to be eaten. While the pasty wasn’t fit for human consumption, it did a great job of keeping my hands warm. As for the meat pies, they seemed fine enough on the outside, resembling chicken potpies in individual golden crusts. The inside was another story. They were filled with a graying substance that the five of us (and probably the top NASA scientists) could not quite identify. Following some extensive research we now believe the pie was filled with mutton, which is the meat of an elderly sheep.
By Monday, we were all grateful no one needed a good stomach pumping and set off for an afternoon of shopping and relaxing. We had a wonderful time, but as day turned to night I got that ominous feeling that reminds you the fun you’re having comes with an expiration date. It’s that heaviness that creeps up, as you slowly realize vacation or Christmas or Sunday night is coming to a close. As the feeling grew stronger and the sky darkened, I wished for one more day. With all the snow and toilet delays our time together had already been cut short and it didn’t seem fair that it all had to end so soon…
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| Outside Commercial Tavern |
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| Pool Showdown! |
The forces that be may be tough on us Fallons, but they’re nothing if not fair. By Monday night, snow threatened the East Coast again and flights for Tuesday morning were subsequently cancelled! We spent our bonus night together cooking dinner, drinking wine and watching episodes of The Mighty Boosh. If you’ve never seen it you must download the series or at least the episode entitled, “The Legend of Old Gregg”. It’s hysterically bizarre, and the type of humor reserved for the warp and twisted. Needless to say, it was the perfect way to end a long weekend with my family.
