Category Archives: General Mutterings

Gentrification in London – Surrey Quays in particular


We all know about Gentrification – when old neighborhoods become cool places to live – and people with money arrive and take over buildings, renovating them to make them acceptable living quarters – by their standards of course. I’ve read all about – but now that I’m staying ‘long term’ with my daughter – my perspective has changed.

Living in the area near Surrey Quays in London is about living in an area undergoing Gentrification while you watch. The old neighborhoods are still holding on – but just barely. There are betting storefronts, restaurants that have clearly seen better times, and a wonderful brick building with a huge plaque stating that this model low-cost housing was built in 1916 by the good will of William Richard Sutton. In 1984, he left 1,500,000 pounds – a fortune at that time – for the establishment of low-cost housing for the poor of London, one of which is located right where my daughter has just bought a brand new flat.

So one of the issues – do you tear these down to make more of the much more modern flats like my daughter lives in – or do you recognize the heritage value of these old fashioned – but extremely well-built buildings and leave them standing? They have survived two world wars – it seems wrong to trash them because they have no elevators, the flats are small, and the layout hardly the modern style that today’s kids require.

But then – I’ve read that in the 50’s average houses were under 1000 sq feet – today they are over 2000! (don’t believe – check it out here: http://stephencolley.com/trends-since-1950/)

So while the Sutton flats are hardly palaces – should they be replaced just because someone could make more money? Tis of course a question that I’m not going to answer. Interesting one though.

Back to the neighborhood – there’s a ‘high street’ – that’s a main shopping street – and parts of it are quite nice, a lovely fish and chips shop, a coffee shop, two DIY shops that never have what I need, and a local pub. But there is also an area of big box stores – a huge grocery store, a sporting goods store that runs on for several thousand square feet – and of course the requiste huge parking lots. I think it’s the parking lots that seem wrong somehow. Flat expanses of what was once grass – now paved and mostly empty.

Her area is also home to Canada Waters – an extremely upscale section of the city that is built over the tube stop. Now there they have elevators. And surprisingly – or I guess actually not surprisingly – we are hard by the Thames. My daughter took me into the Mayflower – an absolutely lovely pub with great beer – that is actually on the Thames! It overlooks the location of the wharf from where the Mayflower was launched.

Best of all – the Simplicity Cafe and Restaurant – http://www.simplicityrestaurants.com

We’ve eaten there twice – and it’s a wonderful example of a tiny destination restaurant in a crazy location. You aren’t going to wander in off the street – you either have read about it – or you don’t go. My daughter had walked by many times, and since they were open on Monday night – when many restaurants are closed – decided to take me there on my first night in London. It was perfect. Maybe 40 seats total – the chef behind the helm of the ship – and portions so large that even though we’d ordered one to share – we thought they had brought us two!

Again – Gentrification at work. This isn’t a restaurant for the working class – as Londoner’s would define that term. They serve fabulously fussy food – hardly what a guy looking for a quick dinner of peri-peri chicken or fish and chips would enjoy – but the increasing amount of Gentrification in the area means that there are more and more DINKS (Double Income No Kids) family – and they can definitely afford the splurge.

Speaking of kids – I’ve never seen so many fabulously fancy carriages in my life as I have since I arrived in London. Not just in the Surrey Quays area either – in fact I think I’ve seen fewer there. But at some of the markets – the in thing is to take your 2 kids in a huge stroller – one standing in back, the other sitting in front – or in one alternative – one sitting in front and the infant hidden from view tucked into the back basket – for a market stroll.

My daughter is conflicted about the Gentrification. On one hand – she loves areas that have already been gentrified, lots of nicer restaurants, cute shops, cobblestone streets and big sidwalks. On the other hand – gentrification means the loss of the lower cost options – no DIY shops, no inexpensive fast food options, no Thai Box take-aways with one chef and his wife as cashier. You win some and lose some with Gentrification.

My wonder – I wonder where the people who are displaced by people like my daughter go to live? Will they sell, take their money and run to the country? Will they move further away from the city – trading commuting time for living costs? Or will they move in with their friends – creating even more crowded conditions in tiny flats that are valued at far more than they can afford in taxes.

At the heart of my daughter’s area is the real prize – the huge park called “Southwark”. It’s huge – and her daily walking commute to the Arch of Crown & Queue (www.curedmeat.london) takes her (and me) straight thru it. I love that part of my “commute”. I get to enjoy a deep refreshing breathe of green grass and old trees between sidewalks and street crossings.

How do I feel about all this?

I’m glad my daughter lives in a place she loves, and I’m really really glad she has an elevator in her building. And I’m very pleased that they carefully bought a flat that has a guarenteed view. And her location couldn’t be better – there’s a smallish, but well stocked, grocery store about 50 feet from her front door, a tube stop a 10 minute walk away – and the park is under a 10 minute walk as well. I love walking her current ‘high street’ – I find the mix of classes fun to see.

But will this last?

The presence of the big box stores with their huge parking lots is an eyesore – and I’m sorry they are there. And the loss of the ‘working class’ will change the feeling of the area.

Signing off to take a walk in Sutton Courtenay. I hear the area near the Thames is awesome.

The Soup Lady

There are foxes living in London


And almost no stray cats. Think these might be related? I certainly do!

Every morning for the last 14 days, I’ve been walking from my daughter’s flat to the Arch where Crown & Queue is based – and almost every morning I’ve seen at least one fox.

And these aren’t the shy, hard to spot foxes that I’m used to seeing in Vermont. These very smart, very fast, very agile animals think they rule their spaces – and they show off their ownership of their domain by running directly across the road right in front of my eyes.

A quick google search reveals that I’m not alone in noticing the foxes – according to a British Research Group at the University of Bristol – the Mammal Research Unit – there are about 35,000 foxes that call London home. Also according to them – these foxes leave a brief but exciting life – their only enemies are cars of course – but cars and trucks definitely shorten their average life span.

But how did London become a city of foxes?

My guess is that as the city expanded – the outlying areas that had been fox habitat became part of the city – and the foxes adapted to their new neighbors – much the way raccoons have become part of the landscape in Canadian cities.

In any case – there are few stray cats – and lots of foxes.

I did find an article on the topic if you’d like to read more –
http://www.latimes.com/world/europe/la-fg-britain-london-foxes-20141121-story.html
but the point of this blog is just to say – early morning walks in London are perfect for fox spotting – just walk quietly – and keep your eyes open.

Signing off
The Soup Lady

Going to the Dogs – or The Dog Days of London


There are few, if any, stray cats in London – the foxes (read my blog later this week) seem to be keeping the cat population well under control – but there are tons and tons of dogs.

When you spend hour after hour standing in a market stall – both at an urban market like Fenchurch Station, and at a neighborhood market like Alexander Palance – you see a lot of people with their constant companions – their dogs!

There are big ones, little ones – ones with jackets – one in a bling covered suit – and one in a full wool sweater, including sleeves on all 4 legs. There are Whippets that look as if they have been rung in the washer for way too long – their fur is soft, but matted to their skin as if it weighs too much to every stand up.

There are tiny little dogs – all of whom seem to sport jackets and coats – and trust me – by Montreal standards – it’s not that cold – even for a small dog. There are long haired and short haired Dachounds – mostly minitures but very cute. I’ve seen countless Jack Russels – and tons of Pugs. What’s interesting about the Pugs are they are huge. Much bigger than the Pugs I’ve spotted in North America – and literally the size of my stuffed Pug that I carry when I’m playing the role of Lady Bertrum from Mansfield Park.

I’ve seen big dogs too – nothing as large as a Newfoundland – but German Sheperds and various kinds of Sheep Dogs abound. There was just one Greyhound – a rescue dog was what I was told. There was even a dog on the train!

Only one stall in the market was selling dog treats – but I’d guess that “going to the dogs” in London is probably not a bad plan if your goal is to make money!

One other observation – most if not all the dogs were leashed. Not the casual leashing of American and Canadian Dog lovers – but a proper harness with a proper leash. And there are rubbish bins clearly marked for dog waste on most corners. In fact often it was easier to find a rubbish bin for doggy-do then for your paper cup of coffee.

Back to the breed identification list – yes I’ve seen the Queen’s dogs – Welsh Corgies, all breed from the one she was given when she was 18. Sounds a bit like in-breeding to me. According to Jan, since she doesn’t want them to miss her when she dies – she’s no longer getting new ones. Now that’s an odd British fact if ever I heard one.

Just one more doggie comment – the gal that was in charge of one of the markets we attended very proudly showed me pictures of her Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. So having a ‘bred’ dog is not as classed based as I had assumed – it must be a British Tradition.

Signing off to look up dog breeds – in case looking turns to buying
The Soup Lady

All Hail the Christmas Jumper


That’s a sweater to you in North America. And the Brits adore them. They even have a National – Everyone wear your Christmas Jumper to work – Day.

Trust me on this – I was in the market stall at Fenchurch Station on the last Friday before Christmas – and everyone was wearing a Christmas Jumper!

The designs were amazing. My favorites included a roaring fireplace on one man’s chest – and in another case – an image of Santa Claus and Jesus hugging – Jesus with a glass of wine, Santa sporting a mug of beer.

Another popular motif – look like you have on a different body! Elf bodies are the most popular – generally done so that the collar ends the body, allowing the head of the wearer to appear to have on the body of the Elf. Sometimes the bodies include the legs and shoes – sometimes it’s just the outfit from the waist up!

I’ve also seen Santa sweaters, ballerina sweaters, and very occasionally – snow man bodies on sweaters.

There are Star War motif sweaters – generally worn by a geekier – younger crowd. I even saw a ‘Minon’ Christmas Jumper – one eye, round yellow body – Christmas hat!

I’ve only seen the same jumper once – and that was on two guys who were clearly together!

Not all the Christmas Jumpers are so over the top – some have more simple images – maybe Christmas 2015 – or a simple saying – “Merry Christmas”, or an image of a Reindeer or two.

There are almost no ‘rude’ sweaters – at least not on view at Fenchurch. I’m surrounded by offices – I guess those don’t cut the mustard for business casual.

Back to the sweaters (jumpers) I did see – there were those that went for the 3D look – I’ve seen tons of jumpers with orange carrot noses sticking out of chests (I’m guessing here – but I’m pretty sure the image under that was a snowman) – and several large round pom-poms that I think might have been the noses of raindeer. There are cupcakes with glowing candles, there are toasts to British beer in all flavors. Occasionally one jumper is so outrageous I have to comment. And the owner will proudly swing around to show it off.

There are also Christmas ties – some subtle – a glowing green maybe – others more in your face with Christmas trees and snowman.

I even saw one guy in a Christmas Suit Jacket. It was covered in Chritmas trees and had a tie to match. Older gent too – so I don’t think he was making fun of the tradition!

For those not keen on wearing a sweater – there are hats! Generally these include elf ears – but once I’m sure they were Reindeer Antlers. Since these are often worn with Christmas Jumpers – I think they are an attempt to complete the outfit – like getting a bag and shoes to match your dress.

A flash back to “Harry Potter” – I never really ‘got’ why the boys are always getting sweaters for Christmas from Ron’s Mom – but now I have a much better understanding. It’s a truly unique British Tradition!

Bit like having Silton for Christmas – you don’t have to love it – but you do want to respect it.

Signing off to check out the after Christmas sales on Jumpers…

The Soup Lady

There are Witches and Wizards in London


Yes – I’m sure of this. I’ve seen them. They look just like they are described in “Harry Potter”. They were seriously odd looking clothing, and seem to be on missions that don’t make a lot of sense to the rest of us.

Most of them seem to live around the Alexander Palace area – where my daughter Adrienne has one of her markets. One actually came over to taste our sausages. Her felt hat – a bright orange – was pulled down over her grey hair, and her dress was in odd layers – some higher and some parts longer – not in the cool way of hip dressers – but in a “I think this works” but in fact it doesn’t – kind of way.

And the tiny alleys like that of Diagon Alley are here as well. Easy for everyone to see – and not even as wide as a tiny car – they snake thru sections of the city as if the city planners just couldn’t figure out how to tell the owners that having a ‘road’ that a car can’t drive down is just not a great idea.

Staying in London for over two weeks – and spending every day walking for almost 2 hours – in addition to the 7 to 8 hours spend in the market stalls – give me a very unique perspective on the entire wizarding thing. You don’t spot them often in downtown, and they aren’t big on riding the buses or the tube – it’s just walking around that they will suddenly surprise you by appearing quickly – and just as quickly disappearing.

And they aren’t keen on saying hi when you greet them in the morning. For that matter – no one says hi when I smile and greet them. Is it my foreign accent? Is it that I noticed them walking early in the morning? I’m not sure – but it’s gotten to be a bit of a challenge to me. I greet everyone I pass while walking – in hopes of getting at least one smile in return.

Strange thought – maybe they think I’m the Witch?

Another curiously British observation: it is illegal to put a light switch INSIDE a bathroom. How anyone decided that was safer is beyond me, but my hosts assure me that it is the case. But imagine how awkward this turns out to be for the ignorant foreigner – like me. I’ve walked into countless bathrooms – shut the door – and been left standing in the dark. I have to open the door – and look around the outside wall to spot the light switch. And no one seems to have thought about how easy it would be to watch someone go into the toilet, wait a few seconds – then shut off the light! I’m sure Agatha Christie could make a murder mystery out of that.

Another perculiarly British thing – they seem to have confused up and down. And push and pull. Doors at home open out for easy exit during a fire. But outer door here open in. How dangerous is that? Imagine getting trapped in a burning building with some foreigner in front trying despartely to push open the pull front door.

As for up and down – To me – one flips a light ON by pushing the switch down. But not here – pushing UP is on – pushing DOWN is off.

And the Brits have gone soft metric. In Canada – we are hard metric – all measurements are metric – distance, height, etc. The only non-metric measures are weight – we still use pounds not kg for human weight – although all food sold by weight is general shown in both $/kg and $/pound measures. But in Britian things are very confused. They measure distance in miles, height in meters. So 10 miles away is a bridge with a height restriction of 5 meters. How odd. Volume is not metric – so gallons and pints. And weight is in stone they tell me – although my daughter’s bahroom scale is in kg. Food is uniformly sold by the 100g – so that’s easy enough – but I do find myself often questioning to distances from place to place. Apparently this is confusing even to the Brits – but I’m thinking any visitor would quickly be scratching their heads in bemusement.

Ok – just one more observation and I’m done for today. Doors in modern buildings have buttons you must find and push in order to open the door. And these buttons are not located near the doors. They are located 4 to 5 feet away – and while they are obvious once you find them – I’ve spent quite a bit of time searching for them when first faced with having to exit a driveway, a doorway – or a gate. On the other hand – at least in the flat my kids own – there is a web cam hooked up to the key pad at the front door. So if you buz their flat – they can see exactly who is standing at the pad – and who is behind them. The camera view is amazingly clear – and good for at least 20 feet out. No sneaking in on them.

Signing off to figure out if she’s gained or lost weight… (silly scale)

The Soup Lady

Exploring the byways of Sutton Courtenay


The village of barely 3500 souls that my daughter’s in-laws call home is a place with a very ancient history. Today we ate lunch at a pub that traces it’s history back to the 18th century – and it was built on a bridge over the river Thames that dates from the 1600’s!

According to Craig – this bridge was a source of much conflict – and at one point the Abbey in Sutton Courtenay errected a Toll Bridge. The villagers retailiated by diverting the river, and building another bridge. I’m thinking “Pillars of the Earth” meets “Harry Potter”.

Speaking of meeting Harry Potter – it turns out that Bellatrix Lestrange has a house in Sutton Courtenay. At least the actress that plays her in the movies does. Her (great?) grandfather was the First Earl of Oxford – and at one point he owned a good part of the village. She still owns – and occasionally stays in – one of the larger homes bordering right on the Thames.

There are other exciting sites to see in Sutton Courtenay – it’s not just about the Thames. There’s the Medieval Abbey, the WWII pill box – built as a defense position against the Germans, the Norman period church where we sang Christmas Carols, the homes built with lumber from ships that fought in the Spanish Armada and were defeated, the old prision in process of gentrification (they are building condos – surprise, surprise) – and there are 3 pubs. Those are seriously the hightlight of the village – I loved the look of the gastro-pub called “The Fish”, but when it came to lunch we left the village and headed to the next town for lunch at “The Nag’s Head”. I opted for fish and chips – when in England – do as the English do I say! I wanted to get a beer – but picking one from the over a dozen on tap proved daunting. The first one they drew – “Goldie” was too bitter for me – as were the next 5, including a cider. I finally tried the “Tiger” – which my hosts refered to as “not a beer” – but I was happy.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. After a quick – everyone grab what they want – breakfast, Craig, Charlotte, Adrienne and I opted to take the village walk. This was a wonderful public path that leads over bridges and past bits and pieces of the Thames in a loop. There were Swans and ducks in the ponds we strolled past – and a solid collection of different dogs.

We eventually wandered our way past the remains of an old mill, past a series of adorable shop fronts that are now private homes (Gentrification at work), and both the Norman Church and the Medieval Abbey. Neighbors greeted neighbors, some young girls rode by on horseback, and we saw several MG Sprites. All together it was a very British walk, in a very British village. Totally Charming.

On call for tonight is a cold dinner of left-overs (finally), a board game – and fireworks. Turns out that fireworks are only legal in Great Britian on Guy Fawes Day – and Christmas. Guess the 4th of July isn’t much of a holiday here – win some, lose some.
Signing off for now

The Soup Lady – reporting from Sutton Courtenay (If you can spell it – you can find it on a map!)

A Traditional British Christmas


My daughter married a Brit – one whose family traces their lineage back several hundred years – so when they invited me to come and spend Christmas with them – I of course said Yes.

My daughter’s inlaws live in the tiny village of Sutton Courtenay. It’s is an hours fast train ride from Paddington station – but a universe away from the hustle bustle of London.

The village is very famous – Hubert Asquith, First Earl of Oxford, and one of the British Prime Ministers from before World War I was born and is buried here – as is George Orwell – who I must say I know better! But I’m not really here to see the sights – I’m here to eat – and eat extremely well I must say.

My Daughter’s In-Laws – who to save on typing we say call Jan and Craig – (which are their names…) do not live on an estate – and there’s nary a servant to be seen in the house – but never-the-less – they have gone all out to make sure that we have an amazing Christmas.

They picked us up at the Train Station – all smiles and Christmas cheer – and we drive thru the village admiring the lovely homes, stone fences, and what I’m now realizing are traditionally tiny roads. Their lovely home has at least 5 bedrooms up stairs – and 3 bathrooms. Downstairs there’s a kitchen, a lovely dining room with wood side-boards, a prep-kitchen with the dishwasher, a sun room that is serving as a 6th bedroom – and a living room/den with the TV – Wii machine – several sofas, and a warming gas fire. The garden is truly lovely – which despite the weather is so so pretty. It’s large enough to be divided into sections – a pool/meadow area, a graveled sitting area – and for my taste – an extremely large area of raised garden for growing vegetables.

From the front – you wouldn’t expect them to have such a spacious backyard – because their neighbors are very close – but the lots must be angled – because the backyard is quite a bit wider in the back than it is nearer the house. Behind the stone wall that marks the end of their garden is a public walking path – but because it is sunk about 2′ below the level of their garden – you don’t even see the tops of people’s heads.

I’m shown to my room – not fancy by any standard – but very comfortable. I’m sharing the bathroom with Thomas – the adorable 4 year old son of my daughter’s husband’s brother. We will be 9 this Christmas – 2 under the age of 4 (both the children of Jamin’s brother), Jamin’s brother and his wife, Jan and Craig, Adrienne and Jamin – and of course me. An odd woman at the table – but fortunately they don’t feel the need to bring in an additional male to balance!

Christmas Eve begins with a fabulous Norweign Christmas Dinner. Jamin’s brother married Charlotte, a gal from Norway – and they are doing all the cooking tonight. The table is lovely – a christmas centerpiece with candles and the placemats also have a Christmas Theme. They have 2 large warming boards – so the food is carefully being kept hot while drinks and seats are organized.

The meal is stellar. I love, love, love the very traditional preperation of Pork Belly. Charlotte went to the butcher to explain the unique cut required – and the effort definitely paid off. Tons of meat – and the fat has been crisped. The dish is called “Ribbe” – and trust me – it’s yummy.

There are an assortment of other dishes as well – Broccoli, fat fresh sausages that were brought here from Norway in Charolette’s suitcase, meat pies that were similarly imported, and a divine take on cranberry jelly called “Tyttebaer”. Yummy.

After dinner, we put on our winter jackets and grab long traditional torches. There’s a torch light parade tonight – starting at the school and gathering walkers as it goes to the church. We join about 1/3 of the way – lighting our torches from the torches of other marchers. At the church, they have built a bonfire, and they are handing out sheets of Carols. We join in with the several hundred other celebrants – sing heartily – and enjoy listening to the very ampped piano player! Of course the church choir is there – and often they can be heard over the crowd doing the descants.

Lovely.

We walk back home – tired, full – and ready for bed. Unfortunately – it’s only 7:30! There are no street lights in Sutton Courteney – and the sun sets early so it feels quite late. We sip tea, chat, and wait for the kids to call it a night. Then the serious work of present wrapping and placing under the tree begins. There are a zillion gifts! Thomas and Craig both have late December birthdays – so this is a combination party – and the number of gifts reflects that double holiday.

Besides – 9 people, if each person bought one gift for the other 8, that’s 72 gifts.

The tree is placed strategically about 2 feet off the ground (Thomas’s younger brother is 10 months old – and he is definitely in the pulling things off if he can stage). The presents form a mound under the tree – every 4 year old’s idea of the perfect Christmas.

In preperation for the arrival of Santa – tradition says that a glass of sherry and a mince pie should be placed by the fireplace. We forego that tradition – but it might be the only one that gets skipped!

We head off for bed – little kids get up early – and Christmas Day promises to start early and last late!

I’m woken up at 7:02 AM by squeals of delight – Thomas has seen the tree and gifts – and there’s no point trying to pretend to sleep in! I hustle downstairs – but things are well in hand. He’s allowed to pick one gift – the rest must wait until everyone else is up and about.

But first he wants to examine his Christmas Stocking. Like all the other members of the family – hanging at the end of his bed this morning was a huge Christmas Stocking. And this is not a tiny thing – nor a store bought packaged delight – nope – this is a huge sock carefully decorated, and lovingly stored year after year. The contents vary – Thomas gets some toys to play with, his younger brother gets two ‘duplo’ trucks, my daughter gets the calming tea she craves. And everyone gets a clemintine and a walnut!

Breakfast isn’t fancy – the big meal will be Christmas lunch. Eventually everyone has gotten up, had coffee or orange juice as best appeals to them – and we’re ready to open the gifts. Thomas takes a great delight in picking out the order in which gifts are to be opened – a bit heavy handedly picking ones with his name of course. But soon the pile of gifts has been descimated – and we are left with gifts galore for everyone. Thomas plays with his favorites – toys featuring the Octonauts. Daniel (10 months old remember) – is thrilled with the boxes – and anything his big brother is playing with!

I’m pleased with my gifts – a book I’ve never read called ‘Magician’, a box of bath salts – and best of all – a box of Rasberry Preserves from England Perserves. They have an Arch behind my daughters – and they make the best Rasberry Preserves I’ve ever enjoyed.

Lunch is eventually annouced – and what a lovely lunch it is.

Prize of place is a roast Goose – and it is awesome. The skin wonderfully crispy, the meat juicy and rich. There’s several popper’s at each place setting – plus a large Christmas Cracker. We begin by pulling our poppers and Crackers – sending jets of bright ribbon everywhere. Food is again kept warm on the side boards – there are carrots and brussel sprouts, roasted potatoes, peas, pigs in blankets (sausages wrapped in bacon), two different kinds of stuffing, and a fab gravy for the goose. Plates are heaped up for serious feasting – and the conversation is lively and laugh filled as we read the silly jokes in the crackers to each other.

After dinner there’s the traditional lounging time – which we spend playing board games, watching Thomas enjoy his toys, and racing Mario Kart on the Wii. The fire is lit – our tummys are full. It’s lovely.

There’s still another meal to go – after the kids are asleep – there are cold treats to enjoy – mince pies, fresh veggies of various kinds, nuts to crack – and some glorious cheese brought from London by my daughter. My contribution was to pay for the cheese – and to buy a loaf of fresh bread from the Little Bread Peddler who shares one of the Arches near Adriennes. There are 3 different desserts – all traditional Christmas treats. There’s a light and fluffy home-made Pavlova, a home-made Triffle, and two kinds of Mince pies. The Triffle is actually made with fruit grown in their garden last summer. My personal favorite has to be the Pavlova – but of course I had to try all three.

More conversation, more laughter – and time for bed.

Wonderful Christmas!

Signing off – The Soup Lady

Fighting the Battle of Auterlitz – 210 years too late!


It is always a special thrill to participate in Napoleonic European Re-enactments. Unlike their North American counterparts – they are huge affairs – with even the smallest ones being done on fields that to our standards stretch on forever. And all of the ones I’ve been fortunate enough to attend have been staged on the actual battle fields.

Which is why I found myself at dawn on Dec 5, 2015 – standing along with another 100 souls at the top of Zuran Hill, hoping to see the Sun of Austerlitz rise in the East. All the important people were there – Mark Schneider doing his usual enthusiastic version of Napoleon – encouraging us to victory, Marshall Soult (Portrayed by Oleg Sokolov) – also elicting cheer after cheer for the new Emperor.

The Czech Renenactor Grenadier Imperial Guard unit was there in force, along with a smattering of the Marins de la Garde, 10 Cavalry members (Chaseurs de la Garde) – with their horses, and the Elite Gendarmes.

Of the folks gathered – I found the Gendarmes the most interesting. They wear a unique uniform – and they are the Napoleonic Military Police. They stand guard at the 4 corners of the space – making sure that only the folks who should be there approach. Later on they will be enforcing the rules of the battle field– No women in women’s clothing being apparently their primary target – well that and crowd control – no kids deciding to join in the battle please, and they even direct traffic if necessary!

We wait to see the sun rise – and of course it does – but it is hidden behind the famous haze of Austerlitz. You can make out tree lines and the general topgraphy, but if there were over 150,000 soliders (Russian, Austrian, and French) camped out in the surrounding hills and valleys – you’d never know.

In 1805 – Napoleon himself stood on this hill – gazed out at exactly this country side – and we can envision him imagining how the chess pieces would fall within hours. Today we can only cheer – and agree to meet at the base of Stanton Hill for drill at 10:00.

For us as re-enactors – the morning is spent either in drill – or in walking around the camp site. The outdoor camp is small – even by North American standards – but then we’re talking early December in the Czech Republic. In 1805 – there was snow. Today there is only a light frost – which quickly melts off – making for splendid re-enacting weather – our wool uniforms were designed for just these temperatures – but as the Doctor – I’m thinking that even so – we’ll be running out of water for the troops by mid-way thru the battle.

The camp is sectioned off – the Russians have claimed about half the space – they have a large contingent – and there are Russian Cantinieres who are selling home made Russian cakes and pies. I enjoy a delicious Apple Pastry – and it looks like business is good – they have different things on offer each time I stroll past.

There are some Bashkir Archers who have set-up a practice area – and are allowing the visitng children to try their hand at using the bows. Using a Bow and Arrow may seem silly today – but in 1805 these guys were deadly! They could fire multiple arrows in the time it would take us to organize just one volley. I join the line to try my hand, but while I have good form – I miss the target all 3 times. Oh well – Doctors don’t really need archery skills.

On the other 50% of the area are meeting grounds for Austrian and French troops. Most of the Re-enactors (there are over 2000) are staying in temporary lodging – police stations, gyms, barracks of one kind and another, or at local hotels – so there are many small areas to visit, no one big encampment like there was at either Leipzig or Waterloo.

Drill, Visits, and Lunch over – it’s time for the battle.

This is the 210th anniversery of the battle of Austerlitz – so it’s being held on a fairly large part of the still existing battle field. Since it is early December, there are no crops to deal with – we’re not forcing our way through grain fields – instead the field has already been tilled for winter, leaving a medium dry mud that clings alarming to our boots – inches deep at some points – making keeping boot soles clean an impossible task. I’m going to bet that there will be few wounded today – no one is going to want to fall into this mud!

The French, of which I am of course included, take the far Western portion of the battle field – we’re on the Stanton hill – and Napoleon (Mark Schneider) and his entourage are mounted or standing behind us. Below us are row after row of French soldiers, Some Cavalry – a narrow road – and then up hill from that are the vast array of the enemy on the Pratzen Heights. There are massed Austrian and Russian Troops – their cannon firing on our positions. We can see that some of the French troops have already been engaged in the battle – but we, the Imperial Guard are being held in reserve.

Napoleon’s tactic at Austerlitz was to pretend a weakness on the right flank that baited the Allies into weakening their center in order to try and crush that side of the Grande Armee. We are doing the same – the troops fighing now are just the teaser – the real numbers will not take the field until 3:00 PM.

Conditions are not wonderful for the Cavalry – Even Napoleon is thrown from his horse when the horse loses his footing in the mud. One of the aide-de-camps is unhorsed twice – and that’s only what we can see from our position. Reports are that many riders had to dismount or were thrown. When we are attacked by the Russian Household Cavalry later in the afternoon – we can’t see the impact – they are still a formidable opponent – and we must form square to protect ourselves at least twice.

Smoke and Fire – March up hill in ranks to face the enemy – exchange of fire, and then hand to hand combat. Some folks get caught up in the moment – and there is one guy who must be restrained by his own troops when he draws sword and tried to single handedly take down the Garde. Three Russians run around our flank and make a grab for our flag – but we stand strong and push them off.

The battle ends with the Russians and Austrians abandoning their cannons, and pushed into the crowds of spectators gathered on the far eastern side of the battle field , – much to their delight. As predicted – there are few fallen – but the need for water is great – and I spend much of the battle either giving out water or helping soldiers with fouled muskets to clean and repair their weapons.

At the end – there is a huge award giving cermony – Soldiers selected for getting Medals of Honour are handed their hard won awards at the hands of Napoleon.

Among them is Victor Eiser – who Napoleon singles out to not only receive the Legion of Honor – but to be given it with special thanks and a personal greeting.

Later that night – over dinner at the Stara Posta – Napoleon comes to our table to personally emphasize that of all the medals awarded today – Victor’s Legion of Honour is the one that he personally felt was most deserving.

Nice end to a nice day.

M. Le Docteur Jean Vivant de Clairemont
reporting from the fileds of Austerlitz, Czech Republic.

Getting Fit – Bit that is!


I have joined the FitBit generation

I did not buy the thing – I didn’t steal it either – so those of naughty minds – you may breathe.

I inherited the thing from my husband – source of all new and highly rated technology. He found the one he had purchased several months ago too small for his large wrist. Besides – the screen was too small for him to read the time – and he couldn’t use it as a watch.

So he took advantage of Black Friday sales (on Saturday – but never mind) to purchase a newer, larger – with more screen space – version. And I have inherited his older one.

Good thing its decided small on him – otherwise I’d be swimming in it – but it’s actually not a bad size. And since I had thrown away my last watch (well – donated it to the VON – but you know what I mean), I definitely wanted a watch that wasn’t complicated, didn’t need to be loosened all the time – and was black.

I like black watches – they never clash with what I’m wearing. They might not actually go with what I’m wearing – but I’m much more concerned with clashing.

Back to my FitBit – man – this is complicated. I had to go to FitBit.com – set-up a new user, bond my fit bit to my ID – which set back the data file – a good thing, who wants to be saddled forever with someone else’s work out data. I used the very convenient help option to figure out how to control my dashboard – and was even able to Sync the thing to my computer. I can’t sync the thing to my iphone – my OS is too old, and apparently my ipad is also over the hill – technically speaking. So computer it is.

First day results – over 10,000 steps thank you very much! They even gave me a badge.

Question – what’s with that? Am I so needy that my Fit Bit has to congratulate me for walking? How pitiful is that.

But apparently the FitBit folks are smarter than I am – I had a friend rave about how she loved getting badges – and actually took the thing off when she traveled because she couldn’t see her badges and lost interest. Ok – guess I might rethink the badge thing…

But as per the Fit Bit – I rock.

Will monitoring my sleep help me sleep better? Will I walk further knowing that someone (even if it’s just my own computer for goodness sakes) is monitoring my results? The jury is still out – 3 days is simply insufficient data to draw a conclusion.

I will admit that knowing I’m sleeping at 90% efficiency is re-assuring – I was worried I was up too often, too early – guess I’m ok there.

But meanwhile – wave at me when I walk by – when I get to doing 10,000 with regularity – the next goal is 20,000!

Signing off to walk… The Soup Lady

Travel and an Identity Crisis- Can you have both?


An identity crisis is not a starting point for any journey

Rupert Murdock – Nov 30, 2015

Interesting statement, eh? Rupert was refering to the US government, and his point was that to give the US a sense of direction, a US leader muts understand, be proud of and assert the American personality.

But I took the comment more personally.

If you are considering changing yourself, either physcially by traveling to a different country, or G-d forbid, move to a different country – or mentally – it clearly helps to have a solid place to stand.

If you aren’t sure of what you want to accomplish, of what you’d like to achieve at the end of your journey – the path is more likely to be controted and mis-shappen.

On the other hand – It’s 50 years since Abby Road by the Beatles was released – and I’m just old enough to remember what it was like in those days. We all thought that traveling was how you ‘found’ yourself – trips to SF were pilgramiges in search of self – and perhaps a few drugs. I went to London in 68 – in theory to study Drama – but in reality I wanted to see a bigger world. Not that Boston wasn’t big enough – but Europe, London, Travel, New Sights, New Sounds – and no parents – no supervison at all – that’s heady stuff at 19 to 20.

Are we thinking today that the youth I was at 19 wasn’t having an identity crisis? It is of course hard to look back – age does add a distance – and I’ve always worn rose colored glasses – but I would have to say that travelling when you are young is all about identity crisis – and travel when you are old is about seeing what you missed.

Big topic, tiny blog…

I’m off again – this time to the Czeck Republic – I shall have to consider identity crisis another day. Signing off – The Soup Lady.