Hi Friends!   One thing you will notice after spending any length of time in London is that the exterior door handles are placed in the middle of the doors.  They are not on the right as they are in North America, they are not on the left as you might expect to find them in this wrong-side driving country, they are right in the middle, as if they could not make up their minds about which side to place them on.  The effect is neither good, nor bad, just different.  A consequence of this centre of door phenomenon is that the doorknobs do not have locks in them; they are strictly for pushing or pulling, although many of them also allow a purposeless turning of them as well.  Door locks are on the right, and there are often several of them (people in New York will know what I mean).  Interestingly many residential doors have both a normal key lock as well as a “skeleton key” lock that makes me always think of Scooby Doo where they kids always end up finding a mystery skeleton key that opens a secret rotating door somewhere. 

The biggest news update is that we now have a semi-permanent address.  Any mailings should be sent to:             Krista Leesment / Ivo Salmre            97A Devonshire Mews South            LONDON, W1G 6QR            UK             Ivo’s Cell: +44 79 6605 1173 We also have a land line, but never use it; it’s only there to support the DSL internet habit.  Our furniture arrived in February and is now set up.  It is remarkable how good it feels to be in our own apartment and looking at familiar furniture.  Humorously, we went to IKEA to buy some lamps and ended up with the exact same IKEA floor lamp I owned in Seattle, now affixed with UK plugs; the black matte Ikea “Jökel” lamp with frosted glass and wood finish stem tips; I feel very much like the lead character at the beginning of Fight Club.  The apartment is great.  As the address indicates, we are located in a quiet Mews just south of Regents Park, about 10-15 minutes walk from the shopping “high-street” of Oxford Circus.  The term “Mews” indicates an alley street that used to serve as horses stables and servants quarters; these are now populated with cheerful restored two story row houses.  Ours fits the mold and we are satisfied that we are living in one of the nicer Mews in London; the term “quaint” comes to mind.  We just discovered a mews to the south that is almost identical to ours save for a village pub in the middle of it; I am envious.  Technically the apartment is a two bedroom, but in reality it’s a one bedroom + study/storage room, the second bedroom being too small for anything but Napoleon’s leftover university futon.  The living room is sizable and is home to my two Seattle futons and awaits visiting guests; we are open for business! Our travels around London continue.  Some weeks ago we took the underground north to an area called Hampstead Heath, which is a fantastically pretty and worth a visit next time you are in London. “Do you get irony?”I was asked this in the same way someone in North America would ask “Mind if I smoke?”, as if to warn you that something potentially uncomfortable and alien was about to happen in your environment that you may not desire to participate in.  The correct answer to this question by the way is to turn to face the person asking the question and to earnestly and flatly reply “What do you mean?” – It takes a few seconds to get the desired effect. 

Some scattered thoughts on life in London. The mad rush for the midnight train: The 11PM pub closing statues of England offer a colourful parade of midnight underground participants as people of all walks of life stagger and bounce their way home.   Strange and masochistic heroes: Admiral Nelson died at war and is honoured throughout London, most noticeably in Trafalgar Square named for the famous naval battle of Trafalgar at which he fell.  In the Royal Navy museum in Greenwich I learned that the man for which Trafalgar square was named for was a bit of a nut.  Year after year he roamed the seas getting injured and taking ever larger maritime risks until he finally got himself shot in the final triumphant battle the earned him his honour.  Shot in the head, loss of an arm, etc, it’s a lot like that scene in the “Holy Grail” where the knight refuses to relent and shouts “Come back and fight, I’ll bite your knee-caps off!” – Suffering people, these English. Sir Walter Raleigh?  Guillotine fodder or national hero?  Greenwich also contains a statue honouring someone the English eventually give the guillotine to; it’s unclear whether the statue was commissioned prior or after this event.  His status in English history remains unclear to me.   Kew Gardens is a botanical tour-de-force well worth the visit.  The tropical plants growing in some of the greenhouses were so large that they reminded me of nothing so much has  the “Josie and the Pussycats in Outer Space” cartoons where they visit the mad-scientist planet with “Dr. Greenthumb” (if no one else gets this reference I’ll just assume that I watched way too much worthless television growing up).   Stolen bicycles & the suckers in the UK that we are.  Yep, we got our bikes stolen.  They were locked up for 20 minutes in a nice area in broad daylight, with lots of people around and near a bus stop.  Live and learn, life in the big city goes on.  We are considering buying some folding bicycles called “Bromptons”, they are very cool, fold up into the size of a briefcase and are allowed on trains at all times. In summary, minor tragedies aside we are well in London, the city is unique and remains an adventure.  Large, diverse, a mess and spectacular.  How can one describe this?  A ski holiday during war timeOur holiday schedule seems somehow oddly in rhythm with the world schedule for mass conflicts.  A year and a half ago it was trying to exit Portugal and the start of the Afghan campaign.  Last fall is was Turkey in a time of war planning in Iraq, this time it was a ski trip to Austria via Germany on the day war started with Iraq.  My set of Lonely Planet guides offers little advice in the area of war-time travel.  Buy the ticket, take the ride; Krista and I boarded a plane from London to Munich and then trains onto St. Anton, Austria via Innsbruck. Of St. Anton there are only nice things to say.  It’s a fun ski village in the midst of the Austrian Alps; what’s not to like?  Fine sunny weather, soft spring snow and beer to sooth one’s aching muscles at the end of an exhausting day on the slopes.  There is nothing like a day on the sunny slopes to remind you that the world will get on just fine without your involvement for a few days. Meeting an older couple English couple on the lifts they asked us “American or Canadian?”  Joyfully we responded “a bit of both.”  Pleasantries and ski advice exchanged, the subject inevitably turned to the war after a few minutes.  I admitted that my guilty obsession was turning on CNN and the BBC whenever we stopped back in our hotel room to watch the war.  They reassured me that I was not alone and that they suffered the same need to get a news fix every time they stopped back in their room.  Group therapy exchanged we turned our thoughts back to the more pleasant subject of navigating around the ski mountains. St. Anton epitomizes many of the things that make European skiing a pleasure; small villages and pubs embedded in the ski-mountain; giant trams spanning different mountain peaks, the ability to ski though a string of different villages, resorts and mountains, as well as fantastic views in all directions.  Also like other European ski hills they pack their ski-trams full like Japanese subway cars and the concept of the line merge onto a chairlift is non-existsant, forcing men, women and children to engage in a pitched battle to make progress towards chair lifts.  St Anton appears to be the largest in a string of connected villages, and the favourite skiing we found was at a nearby mountain called Stubin, which consisted of wide open alpine areas with lots of steep but soft snow coated off-piste slopes.  Next time I go back, I intend to start a t-shirt franchise selling “Fahrfignugin” themed shirts that stay “Stubingroovin” and show a wire-frame guy digging in the good vibe of the place; it will be big. A particular theme embodied Alps-ski resort design is the “Après on the Hill” model that consists of placing a string of fun bars with catchy music several hundred vertical meters above the base of the hill.  People done with their day of skiing, stop in, unwind, have some drinks and eventually put their skies back on to take the final dash down to the village in various states of sobriety.  With our final day of skiing coming to an end we decided to stop for a beer and unwind in the European fashion.  Somewhat lubricated, we threw our skies back on only to find that just down the hill from our selected point of libation was a large mogul field; its good to see that the mountain grooming people have a sense of humour or perhaps that the German speaking would call “Shadenfreund”? It was a terrific visit!  My hope is to organize a group ski trip back to St. Anton sometime next winter (e.g. late February, early March); let me know if you’re interested. 

A trip to Euro-Disney in a time of warAs I write this text, I am sitting on a train approaching the hole-in-the-ground wonder that is the channel-tunnel connecting England with continental Europe; three tunnels 32 miles long under the English Channel, an idea that went 192 years from inception to realization (1802 -> 1994), it’s pretty impressive.  Next stop, Lille, and then a train switch and onto Disneyland Paris.  I will be staying in the “Hotel New York.”  Given the present war-time animosity between France and the United States, this promises to be an interesting business trip.  Being in one of the hallmarks of US cultural dominance, staying at a New York themed hotel and surrounded by German, French and Turkish journalists (all on my list of people to meet with), an American from London, I feel like I belong in some yet to be written Hunter S Thompson “Fear and Loathing” novel; wonder if I can score some acid from the big happy mouse guy and take this all in stride? DisneyLand Paris came and went without incident.  About the strangest thing to say about this is that it’s a bit odd being at the “Happiest Place on Earth (euro)” and having people standing around with large calibre automatic rifles standing around keeping the mouse safe for business. 

End of war - Whistler

The war pretty much ended while we were in Whistler at our friends Mark and Kerri’ wedding there.  We spent two weeks winding down in Whsitler, doing some skiing and spending time with friends from North America who popped in to say hi, have a few beers and do a bit of skiing or cycling.  It was a great time but at the end of it I was eager to get “back home” to London on Easter Weekend. The weeks between Easter and now consisted of mostly time in London, but with a weekend trip out to Paris to meet up with Mark and Kerri (who have recently moved to Germany).  Upcoming adventures are: Newport, Rhode Island – next weekend for friends Siim and Aili’s wedding.Belgrade, Serbia – the weekend following for friends Craig and Maja’s wedding)Barcelona, Spain – end of June/beginning of July for “work” (had to type this without similing)New Orleans, Louisiana – mid July for work.  (sounds a like like spending a week in a rotisserie bbq – I am less than enthusiastic about this at present) Having gotten a good feel for London, we are excited to do some more adventuring in the UK these coming months.  Tomorrow we plan to head Oxford for the day (1 hr by train) and hope to make it out to the seaside as well as up north to Scotland in the near future).                         Wishing you the best and hoping to see you sometime soon! Cheers! -ivo