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On the road with mom
By the time The Times hits the street, on the 29th, I’ll be making my way from Heathrow to Upper Street in Angel with LOML and my brother. Yep, I’ll be “over ’ome”. It’s been a busy month, March has been. I’ve been to a lot of places in my time, but have never made the trip to the UK. Go figure. This is a first visit for both LOML and me. I expect we’re in for a bit of culture shock. And, in spite of the horrendous and tragic incident in London last week, I’m not really worried about international travel. That being said, I am fairly certain we’ll not be heading into the US of A anytime soon.
Don’t get me wrong, I do have worries about traveling. As I write this on Sunday, March 26, the date of our departure is quickly approaching. I have a vision of arriving at Pearson and suddenly realizing I’ve forgotten to bring our passports. Of course, that would be after being slowed down in traffic across the top of Toronto and having to careen into the airport with moments to spare before we have to be at the boarding gate. Don’t laugh. Racing through an airport has happened to us, once at Charles DeGaulle and once at Pearson.
But I leave the driving and departure times to LOML. In all of our travels, as a couple and as a couple with children in tow, I have been the person who is in charge of passports, boarding passes, visas, the Park-n-fly agreement, immunization records and the international driving permits. Yep, I am “She who has the Biggest Mom Bag” and am, therefore, the keeper of all of those travel documents. At any security checkpoint, I am the family force who does the reckoning.
In the past, I have been the person who does the head count as the flock squeezes into the plane. I have been the carrier of the juice boxes, the snacks, the comic books, the tissues, the wet wipes, the spare headphones, the device chargers/batteries, the first-aid kit, the chewing gum, the teeny-tiny travel games, the blankies, the Gravol and the Aspirins.
Yep, I am The Mom even though we don’t travel with our children any longer. Why do I still have the great big Mom Bag? Well, as LOML and I get older, the number of travel documents and travel companions diminish in number but not in variety. I am still the responsible party. I am, “Sweetie, have you got my passport?” When we’ve been seated, I am “Honey, have you got any gum? How about a pen for the crossword? Did you remember the travel books? Have you got the newspaper in your computer bag? Did you bring any cookies or a chocolate bar?” Yessir, I still have the Mom Bag.
I’m looking forward to being in London. It’s a first visit for both of us. LOML’s mother was born near the city centre in 1920 and came to Canada when she was very young. We’ll be trekking out to the area where Rose Gwendolyn Bright, aka Mom/Grandma, was born to see the old Bright family homestead. From his research, LOML is confident the thatched cottage still exists. Family tracking aside, I’m looking forward to being in Jolly Old England. I want to be a tourist. I want to see the sites. I want to drink the ales in ancient pubs. I want to eat chips out of papers as I sit in a park or walk home from the local. I want to stand outside Buckingham Palace and wonder “Who the bloody hell needs seven hundred and seventyfive rooms, including seventy-eight bathrooms”. I’ve made notes of all the places my friends have told me to visit. Harrods for sure, Andrew!
We’ve got two UK travel books, and both of those books will be in my Mom Bag. I’ve got the passports, the birth certificates, boarding passes, the Oyster cards, the conversion plugs, the chewing gum, the earplugs, the pens, the crossword books and the reading glasses. I’ll be writing from the UK for a few weeks. My other brother and youngest sister are taking care of the palatial home over ’ere. Cheers all!
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