European Vacation Part Four - Good Old England

Charlie George (right) and yours truly

There was that walk along the beach with the wife at dusk in St. Ives. There was cheering and jumping up and down with tens of thousands of others at Emirates Stadium. There was marveling silently at antiquities in the British Museum. There was and always will be England. Loved and admired, hated and reviled. The people are dry and passionless, they are inspired and silly. England is Queen Victoria, England is Monty Python's Flying Circus. England is tea time, soccer hooligans, tradition and innovation. England is gritty gray cities, England is gorgeous green countryside. England is imperialism and it is democracy it is indecipherable accents and Shakespeare. England and how you see it is a reflection on you and what you bring to experiencing it. To me it is always and forever The Beatles, proper football (soccer to you, Yanks) a long and fascinating history and of course fish and chips. I love the place.

We arrived on a Thursday desperately missing Finland and the great time we had there. But the next night it was off to meet my friend Phil, his daughter and a friend to see my favorite footie team, The Arsenal. It was the opening of the English Premier League season and my beloved Gunners were taking on Leicester City. It was my wife's first match and was it a doozy. Within two minutes our heroes were ahead 1-0 but as halftime approached some sloppy passing and poor defending meant a 2-1 deficit. But at the stroke of halftime The Arsenal leveled and we could relax during the interval. Unfortunately they fell back behind early in the second half and I spent nearly a half an hour of playing time worried that my first match in eight years was going to be a loss. But with ten minutes to go Arsenal equalized and a few minutes later went ahead and the stadium was rocking. It was not just mad cheering but singing that ensued as supporters sang odes to the team and individuals. This is part of what makes football so special. Teams have their own chants and songs for their club and also for some of the players. It was thrilling.

Charlie George in his playing days.

The next day four of us were back at the stadium for a tour. The missus instead took in the Tate Modern Museum. The tour was led by my teenage hero one Charlie George who scored the winning goal in the 1971 FA Cup final. I saw the game, his goal and his celebration (laying on the pitch arms spread) on TV and became an instant Arsenal fan. During the tour I had my picture taken with him (thanks, Phil) and got his autograph. I was like a star struck kid. We saw the locker room, coaches' office, the field, the high priced luxury seats and went through the Arsenal museum. After that it was into the team's mega store where I got an Arsenal jacket and another tee shirt.

On Sunday the better half and I were on the train to St. Ives, a resort town on the southwest coast of England. There we spent several days doing very little aside from enjoying the views, going for walks and eating some of the most delectable seafood I've ever had. One day it rained and that was fine too because you can't be running about all the time. The St. Ives Museum was surprisingly good with relics from both world wars, the shipping industry and everything from local fashions to odds and ends from everyday life in the 19th century.

Back to London for a day and another in a long line of great meals we ate on our trip. Yesterday we flew back to New York for a quick visit with youngest daughter and the last of a series of restaurant meals. Today we're back in Berkeley and I'm glad to see oldest daughter and not be living out of a suitcase anymore. I'm rejuvenated for work and refreshed and raring to get back into my routine.

The trip re-enforced my great love for three things: Finland, The Arsenal and my family. It also served to remind me what a lucky bloke I am. That's worth a trip in itself.