Princess

The Schedule

30 November, 2024
Posted in: Princess, Travel

When the Princess was at Oxford, I used to visit occasionally and at some point in this process, herself introduced the schedule.

This has been the best thing for our relationship and everyone’s sanity. Term is busy at college and she would always have lots of things on and need to write essays and study as well. Before the schedule, these things would arise at short notice for me anyway (there is no point expecting me to remember details of a social or academic engagement conveyed to me some time ago) and it was a bit unsatisfactory for both of us. Part of the problem was that I was coming for a relatively long time. I was visiting from Ireland so always came for a couple of nights at least rather than a day or even an afternoon which was much more feasible for parents based in London, say.

The schedule changed all this. I knew when she was available and when not. I was able to get dropped off at the lovely little art museum in Christ Church (recommended) or go to the shops or some other fun thing suggested by herself while she went to her tutorials or whatever. It was, as the annoying expression goes, a game changer.

I am visiting her this weekend (bringing this to you live from a glamorous airport bus station) and the schedule has just dropped and it looks amazing. I am v excited.

The schedule is now a fixture. For example, in summer 2023 I was supposed to join her in Florence for the weekend after she finished her art history course and below is the schedule she prepared. Alas, neither of us got to enjoy it. My favourite aunt died and we went to her funeral instead. But maybe we will live the Florentine adventure another time. As my London sister-in-law says, “Life is long”.

Thursday 20th DOWNTOWN

1pm Arrival

1:17pm Il Santo Bevitore for lunch

3:30pm Uffizi

7:30pm Osteria Antica Mescita San Niccolo

9:45 pm Romeo and Juliet at the Uffizi

Friday 21st SANTO SPIRITO

Brancacci chapel

8:15pm Loggia rooftop

Saturday 22nd NORTH

Museo di San Marco

8pm L’Ortone

Sunday 23rd DOWNTOWN

Market

2pm departure

It’s a lot of work for her but honestly I think she thinks it’s worth it. It’s an opportunity for her to show off a place she knows to me and both of us know what to expect. The effort she puts in to planning and booking things she knows I will like fills me with joy. In some ways no one knows me better than her and she can always judge what I will enjoy so in addition to the warm feeling I get from all her effort, I really look forward to doing the things proposed and they always deliver.

I say all this in case anyone else out there thinks spontaneity can be a bit overrated sometimes.

Also it’s the last day of Nablopomo. Posts next month will be more…spontaneous.

It’s Not Too Early

27 November, 2024
Posted in: Ireland, Princess

I used to be really indignant about how Christmas started shortly before Halloween but not any more.

I have thrown my hat at it, I rejoice at the sparkling decorations. I am ready for Christmas music. I will get many of my decorations out of the shed at the start of December and I will deploy my Christmas ware shortly (incidentally, the Princess tells me she loathes it, I am crushed; someone else will be getting it in the will is all I can say.). I won’t even wait for the traditional starting gun of December 8 (Feast of the Immaculate Conception and formerly a holiday when the whole country did its Christmas shopping now deep in the Christmas season).

Slightly related, I see that vandals have destroyed Scrooge’s gravestone in Shrewsbury which my friend took me to visit when I was there. What a shame and hardly in the spirit of the extended season.

In final early Christmas news, even I draw the line at the rather gloomy Christmas decorations that have appeared in the corridor at work. Somehow worse than nothing at all.

Tell me, where do you stand on Christmas in November?

Can it still be November ?

19 November, 2024
Posted in: Princess

At around this time of the month, I always get slightly desperate for content. I have a number of ideas for extremely long posts sharing my thoughts on important matters but what I really want this evening is a very short post which will allow me to finish up rapidly and return to sit by the fire and peruse today’s paper.

I had a long day. My Ukrainian lesson, normally on a Wednesday morning, was this morning before work. I make very slow and limited progress, I fear, but we soldier on. The difference between cold and hungry in Ukrainian is obvious to the native speaker but presents me with almost insurmountable difficulties. You will appreciate that after all this time I would like to be better on these rather basic vocabulary items. I reflect, however, that I have never been to Ukraine and I do much better when I visit the country and use the language. When the war is over, I fully intend to visit. My teacher says there are actually loads of tourists in Kiev right now but they are braver than me.

I feel there are probably a lot of older people in Ukraine who speak no English so I would get a lot of practice. The Princess often says to me that I grew up in a golden age for language learning. It is true that when I was a teenager on holidays in France, you spoke French or you didn’t communicate at all. Now everyone on continental Europe wants to speak English and you have to be persistent to stop them doing so even when (very frustrating this), your knowledge of their language far exceeds their knowledge of English. Do you think it is true? Has the golden age of language learning (in Europe at least) gone?

Post Script

11 November, 2024
Posted in: Family, Ireland, Princess

I began my working life in 1991. That is a long time ago.

One day, I remember a male colleague asking whether I had a stamp. People used to borrow stamps, it was a thing. I did not. He was disappointed. He went off to look elsewhere. “Married women always have stamps,” he said firmly as he set off on his quest.

I am not sure whether he succeeded in finding a stamp but I remember the line. And now that I am a married woman I do, in fact, always have stamps. I can’t remember the last time someone asked to borrow a stamp though.

When I was in my 20s I wrote many, many letters but now my only correspondents are my daughter in England and my friend in America. I think they both regard letter writing as a quirky – though not unwelcome – habit on my part.

I was slightly horrified to find, after she died, that my mother had preserved all my letters to her. You might think I would welcome an insight into my thoughts in my 20s but this is not the case. I did enjoy some of the letters between her and her mother which also came my way as well as a couple of letters my grandmother had written home from America while she lived there.

I do miss letters.

The Boat to England

8 November, 2024
Posted in: Mr. Waffle, Princess, Travel

Mr. Waffle and I drove herself to England at the start of October. Having finished a degree in foreign parts you would think she might come home but no, she is doing a master’s as well. The whole thing was rendered a great deal more stressful than it might have been by having the car booked in for a service the day before departure. It was going to be ready, then it wasn’t, then they were waiting for a part. It was a roller coaster during which we looked up hire cars (not actually very easy to find car hire people who will let you take the car out of the jurisdiction) and investigated how to change the ferry booking. There was a great deal of trauma which is frankly being skimmed over in this paragraph.

This was the first time Mr. Waffle had done this trip and he kept commenting on how onerous it was. “It’s even worse when you have to do all the driving yourself,” I kept saying grumpily.

Baltics VI – Estonia – Tartu to Tallinn

3 November, 2024
Posted in: Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Travel, Twins, Youngest Child

Monday August 19

Absolutely everything of a cultural nature appeared to be closed. It is not the first time I have been caught out by this and doubtless it will not be the last.

Buoyed up by our experience the previous day we headed off on the electric bikes. The brakes were a on Dan’s on the downhill trip into town in the lashing rain and he fell over in a controlled but none the less alarming fashion. No harm done but a slightly unnerving start to the day all the same.

The Princess and I went to the shops where she looked at skincare and we acquired another very expensive but lovely Moomin mug. I think if we only buy one every 3-4 years the expense is bearable.

The weather cleared up and again, building on the success of the previous day, a select group went to inspect the ruined cathedral on the hill and the university.

After depositing Michael at home, I went back into town with Daniel to inspect the really excellent sports museum. Open on a Monday what’s not to love? It was small but interactive.

It had some nice memorabilia from previous Olympics.

This included a lot of Olympic mascots.

Surprisingly entertaining. We went for a cup of tea in the square with Mr. Waffle to recover. All museums are exhausting.

We all had a chance to look at this peculiar sculpture. It’s the artist and his son and he scaled himself down and the baby up and the result is, well, peculiar.

When we got home, we were reminded that herself is allergic to mosquitos by the arresting sight of what looked like an enormous bump on her forehead but was in fact a mosquito bite. I don’t have a photograph – I’m not a monster – but she was most displeased.

Her boyfriend is thinking of going into her father’s line of work and he asked her about what her father does. “I don’t know,” said she, “he types on his computer a lot and shouts at it a bit.” Such an accurate description of the day to day travails of many knowledge workers.

Saintly Daniel made dinner.

Tuesday August 20, 2024

This was “Re-independence day” when the Estonians got their independence back after the events of 1991. The net effect was that everything was closed again. Sigh. One of the children said to me, “What do people who don’t visit museums do when they go to visit cities?” and I honestly don’t know.

Daniel and I were up early looking for breakfast – everywhere was closed but we had a nice cycle around the city, I said to him encouragingly.

I am not really sure he was convinced. Before breakfast I find that enthusiasm levels can be low. Café Werner – famous local spot – eventually met our needs. I was extremely grateful.

It actually was a nice cycle and there were Estonia flags everywhere. Most houses seem to come equipped with a bracket from which to fly your flag. Perhaps a legacy of an earlier time.

After breakfast four of us left to drive to Tallinn and herself stayed on for the day to further sample the delights of Tartu (really probably my favourite place on the trip along with the Curonian Spit) and get the train later which was also a welcome development for her siblings who were crowded in the back of the car.

Our first port of call (har di har) in Tallinn was the ferry port. Happily we had a great deal of time on hand. It felt like we were driving around in circles but we did eventually reach our destination and send Michael off on the ferry to Helsinki to meet a Finnish friend from college. Again, I was slightly concerned about the fate of my chickadee but, spoiler alert, he was absolutely fine.

Daniel, Mr. Waffle and I repaired to a ramen place herself had recommended. Another triumph; the big revelation for me this holiday (aside from the Baltic Germans and the Teutonic knights I suppose – Mr. Waffle has just got a book about Baltic Germans out of the library so I look forward to further updates over the course of November) was my firstborn’s absolute genius for finding nice restaurants. You may recall that she had spent some time in Tallinn improving her Russian earlier in the summer so she had had ample opportunity to scout out the kind of place I like. People, she had not wasted her time.

After lunch we went to a nice park outside the city for a wander about – Mr. Waffle likes a park. I’m fond of a park myself provided it has a nice cafe. This one did. I enjoyed some miniature pancakes in the sun.

Access to our airbnb was a bit traumatic. It was in the pedestrian part of town and we had to park at the edge and lug the luggage from car to the flat and then up 5 flights of stairs. I say we but I was the one sitting in the car with the hazards on and then – traumatic enough in its own mild way – getting it to the car park. The accommodation was huge yet somehow unsatisfactory. Two of the bedrooms were divided from the living space by curtains. What is wrong with that very successful invention – the door?

The others were a bit flattened so I walked down to the station to meet herself.

When Mr. Waffle and I were young and used to go on skiing trips organised by my brother-in-law, people from the group would often ask him (b-in-l), “When’s happy hour?”. He would not know, having arrived at the same time as the rest of us. In our family locution when someone makes an unreasonable request which you cannot be expected to answer or know, the words “When’s happy hour?” are deployed to indicate that this is the case.

When the Princess and I returned to the flat, an exhausted me flopped on the sofa after a long day and some rash individual inquired, “What’s for dinner?” “When’s happy hour?” I replied grumpily. “This is unhappy hour,” said herself dolefully. Perhaps you had to be there but it effectively improved the mood.

We went to the supermarket and picked something up. I forgot my bag for life container (pictured below). Instead of writing it off, like a sensible person might, I wearily trekked back down the five flights of stairs and out to the supermarket. Great was my triumph on finding it but overall, possibly not the wisest thing I have ever done.

Nevertheless, after dinner we were all miraculously restored and went out for a drink. We returned to the restaurant in the main square where many years ago we had vareniki for the first time. Thrills.

Wednesday August 21, 2024

Mr. Waffle and I brought the car to the airport. Time was tight and I nearly had heart failure as I got us lost all over the city in an attempt to find a petrol station to fill up the car. As herself so wisely observed, we are not really car people.

When we returned the car it turned out that the boot remote control worked fine. You just needed to press it for a second longer. Can I say it again? We are not really car people.

On our return to the city, we had breakfast with herself but I was struck down by a migraine and retired to my bed until the middle of the afternoon when I gingerly emerged blinking in the sunlight.

Herself took us to a part of the city we had not been to before. The Tallinn locals seem to have made some kind of Faustian pact with tourism. The old town – which is lovely – is completely given over to tourists. It’s like Disney, no schools, few shops other than tourist ones and very few local residents as far as I can see. The part we went to that day was a shopping area outside the old town. It was nice and seemed to be almost tourist free. I found the whole thing slightly disturbing in a way I can’t entirely put my finger on.

We bought Daniel a new shirt as herself had booked us in to a fancy dinner place. We got him a grandfather shirt, something I last saw widely worn in the 1980s when I was in college. Is it back?

Our fancy restaurant had a tasting menu. Michael is not a fan of the tasting menu so it seemed a good thing to do while he was off in the flesh pots of Helsinki. I must say we had a really lovely time. And it was delicious.

Thursday August 22

Herself had identified somewhere out in the suburbs as a good spot for breakfast so with our local guide we got the tram successfully. Public transport in a foreign city; always such a challenge.

It was very Russian out there in the cafe in the suburbs. Interesting.

After breakfast we did some mild shopping. I love a high class souvenir shop and herself knew where to bring me. Satisfactory.

After lunch we went to the seaplane museum which is supposed to be excellent but I found it pretty dull. There was some interesting stuff about ice roads and how in winter in the old days there were all these roads on the sea but, I could take it or leave it (even if it does also feature a very claustrophobic submarine).

Leaving those with higher tolerances for seaplane trivia behind me I took a taxi to the port to collect Michael. The taxi driver spoke only Russian and Estonian so yet again I hauled out my limited Russian linguistic skills. You can tell how well it went because after my attempts at communication he said to me, “Are you Polish?”.

Michael made it back safely though completely exhausted. In my mind’s eye I had seen him playing very elaborate board games and not leaving the house. I think that is how he saw it in his mind’s eye also but his friend felt obliged to show him all the sights. Even though Michael reassured him that he had seen all the sights in Helsinki and really had no particular desire to see them again, his friend was not to be deterred. I think Michael was quite glad to be back in the bosom of his family.

It turns out that like his Latvian friend, his Finnish friend’s family were also Russian speakers. “This is beyond coincidence,” I announced to the family when we got home. “Twice is the definition of coincidence,” said herself. Truly I have a great deal to put up with.

Friday August 23, 2024

We went to visit the Kiek in de Kok tower which is an interesting and well laid out city museum with a restaurant with no savoury food. They are truly missing a trick there.

After lunch at home, I forced everyone out to recreate the photo we had taken when we were last in Tallinn. Very low levels of enthusiasm from the troops but I had the bit between my teeth.

We went for a wander round the old town which is nice, I mean it is, but somehow not as nice as it was when we were new to it in 2019. “Through a chink too wide there comes in no wonder” as Patrick Kavanagh would say. And I think we were all keen to get home by this stage so perhaps that accounted for it too.

Saturday August 24, 2024

We hauled the luggage downstairs and took off for the airport in two taxis. To my absolute delight – and hers – I had a Ukrainian taxi driver and we were able to have a mild conversation. I mean, she did lose me regularly but it was better than my Russian conversations. And it was Ukrainian independence day so that was nice.

And then we were at the airport, glad to be going home. It presented its own photo ops which I am a little curious about.

I wandered to the newsagents and there was the FT weekend. I forked out a fortune but it was a long enough flight, I reasoned. Yes, you have guessed it, for the second time I purchased a weekend edition I had already read (in fact, if you’re counting it was third time in all that I had purchased that edition). As Mr. Waffle said, the FT welcomes detail orientated purchasers.