England scoop.

We're back. From England, that is. It was a great place to visit and get to know, but of course I have tons of opinions I need to share with you all. So here we go:

1. Not all British people have jacked-up teeth. It was the first thing I investigated, beeeeelieve me. In fact, it seems they have pretty good dental plans over there and that most of them are indeed flossing.

2. I'm not sure why, but England has a very poor potty situation going on. In many ways. Here's the sitch: if/when you DO have to go, finding a potty is tough. They hide their potties very well. It's almost as if they're embarrassed at the thought of peeing/pooping. I wanted to wear a button that said "Even the Queen poops." But, for me, nope, not enough potties for my general comfort. I mean, I drink tons of water. Tons of water = many trips to the loo. Supply me with facilities puuuleeeze. Then, once you do finally find the coveted "toilets" as they call them, it's an adventure. Now, first let me start with a complement. I love their potty doors. They go all the way to the floor. That's where the U.S. has a major breakdown in potty policy. I don't like the fact that in a public restroom, the door only comes down to about 18" above the floor. Why can't it be a full-sized door??? The U.K. got this part of the "toileting" right. But it stops there. Once you do your business, the U.K. wants to really, really jip you on the t.p. (toilet paper, that is). The dispenser gives it to you in SINGLE SHEETS!! What's that all about??? It takes a good 3 to 4 minutes just to get a sufficient amount of t.p. in hand! Then when you try to flush your "stuff".....OMG. Their plumbing is ridiculous. There's no water pressure, no heavy flush, nothing. A small trickle of water comes down...if you're lucky. So what's that mean to the potty-goer? It means you get the former potty-goer's leftovers, that's what!!!! Not nice. So here's my thing: I need more potties, more paper, and more flush please. Just more of everything....except for my neighbor's leftovers. Less of that and more of the aforementioned and the potty sitch will be golden.

3. You know I've got to talk about the driving dealio. Why drive on the left side? As far as my research tells me, the U.K. is by far in the minority by choosing to drive on the left. And they're so uppity about it. Anytime someone would ask me how I was managing with my driving, if I'd dare say I was having difficulty getting used to driving on the wrong side of the road, those crazy Brits would give me a lathering. Whatevs, I left my mark on a few curbs and our rental car (I simply couldn't judge the left side and curb-surfed way too much for Pauly's liking).

4. That English tea. Yum. Double yum. Now anyone who hangs with me regularly knows that I love tea. Need tea to survive. Hot tea, cold tea. Just tea. I don't do coffee so tea is my caffeine hit to get me through the day. But, wow. The tea I had while in England???? It was like no other tea I've had. I brought 2 boxes home but I already fear the end of those teabags!!! So, yes, I love their tea habits and the respect they give tea. They do tea properly - with little cakes and lots of sugar. Mmmmmmmm. Now how do I get a steady IV drip of their tea going through my veins???

5. Their weather. Let's just say I didn't worry about getting a sunburn. And I'm always the one voted "Most Likely to Look Like the Lobster" whenever the sun is shining anywhere. There was not a good hair day in sight for the entire 7 days I was there. I have no idea how anyone ever looks good in England.

6. The food. Oh, the food. Was it really food? Or was it just white bread and mayonnaise? And little disgusting sausages and brown lumpy gravy? Holy crap...I couldn't eat a thing besides Corn Flakes with whole milk that I diluted with water. It was a really bad food sitch for poor lil' me. England doesn't like semi-vegetarians. At all. In fact, they throw bangers and mash at them and laugh while doing so...


I guess I could tell you more, but I don't want you to think that I disliked my trip. It was fun and new and exciting even though some things were scary and uncomfortable. It would have been more fun if Pauly wasn't working so much, but hey, that's why we were there in the first place. Zeke and I were our own little tourguides and discovered tons of things together. Over "dinner", we'd tell Pauly all about our day and what we had found. One thing I noticed that was enlightening: a 4-year-old is a wonderful travel companion. And even better, it was awesome to introduce him to a totally different country. He definitely noticed that things were different in the U.K., but assimiliated to the changes pretty quickly. He knew to ask for 20 pence for the gumball machines, remembered that the Eye of London was a major ferris-wheel type of landmark in London, and even made a little British friend while playing in a playground one afternoon. Even though she told him he talked funny, they seemed to get along fine and played for a while before saying goodbye. As they were leaving, little Layla told him to "have fun in America." Zeke told her bye and that "he liked her country." That made the trip completely worthwhile to me.