Although they have crisscrossed the continent on coach tours and pilgrimages, my folks have never actually been to Paris or the UK. Hoping to not end up like some National Lampoon outtake, we organized a family vacation to remedy this.
A quick vocabulary lesson for the uninformed: U.K. is short for the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. Great Britain is the island on which the countries of England, Scotland, and Wales lie (whereas Northern Ireland is on the same island as the Republic of Ireland). This is why you normally see sports teams from those individual countries compete in international events... and why it was also a kerfuffle when they had to join up and enter as Team GB for football in the Olympics. Make sense?
Arriving into Gatwick Airport, we promptly departed the city so that these Americans could see, at least a little, that there is more to the UK than just London. About 25 miles west, Windsor seems like a charming town out of a storybook England with its Union Jacks flying merrily. The castle is where the Queen spends most weekends, and we were there in time to see the Changing the Guard ceremony in the Lower Ward. The band that accompanies them tried to steal the show with such an ebullient rendition of "Puttin' on the Ritz" that we half-expected them to break out with jazz hands. Inside, the Royal Apartments are sumptuous and with enough weaponry and suits of armor to fulfill any role-playing game fantasy. You can also see Queen Mary's dollhouse - complete with functional plumbing - and visit the stunning Saint George's Chapel, where Henry VIII, among other queens and kings, is buried.
We headed south to Rich's roots in West Sussex. The sun was shining on the South Downs, and we stopped in to see family before popping by the church at Upwaltham. Rich's family has been coming for generations to this tiny 12th century construction... just check out the spooky upright tombstones in the graveyard outside. Chichester is an old place, too, dating back to the Romans and home to a medieval market cross and cathedral. But the high street has all your newfangled favorites - HMV, Marks & Spencer, et al. - and we enjoyed a traditional afternoon tea (scones, jam, clotted cream, cakes, finger sandwiches, and tea) in a decidedly more modern setting next to a contemporary art gallery.
We met up with more family in Brighton in East Sussex. Having long been a fashionable place by the seaside, I was sorely disappointed the first time I visited to find the famous beach was not sand, but stones... stones about the exact size and shape to encourage ankle-twisting. Strolling by the sea (or rather, the English Channel) in this case is relegated to the long boardwalk, or "prom" as the Brits say. Brighton today is known for its arts and culture and home to arguably one of the best club scenes in Europe. The box we were ticking, though, was fish and chips. The iconic British meal is best served from a greasy chip shop (or "chippie"), wrapped in newspaper, dashed with salt and malt vinegar, and eaten with an ineffectual wooden fork in the sea air. With the wind a tad too chilly, we had it in a restaurant. The "fish" can be cod, plaice, or haddock, and I opted for that curious accompaniment popular in the north of England - mushy peas... pretty mushy and very, very bland.
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