The Grand Tour Part 11 and Doll-A-Day 2023 #187: Not Elves on the Shelf

   Yesterday we talked about our visit with our friend Cheryl in Clacton-on-Sea. For some background, Cheryl started out as my penpal years ago. I went to England in 1985, and we got to meet in person.

Cheryl took this picture of me in Trafalgar Square on the day we met. I don't have access to all my pictures right now, so I can't show you any I took of Cheryl that day.

When I went back the next year, Cheryl and I actually took a trip to Amsterdam together.

Where, once again, Cheryl took this picture of me, and my pictures of her are at home.

   And in 1989, a couple of months before Ken and I got married, Cheryl came over and we took her on a different Grand Tour.

Ohio...

Niagara Falls....

Cheryl and I preparing to go under the Falls.

Ken and Cheryl at Niagara Falls.

I have a great picture of Cheryl, and me, in Toronto, but also, it's at home. Ken takes forever to compose a photograph, and Cheryl doesn't have the patience for it. So there is a wonderful picture  where I'm smiling, and Cheryl is in mid "Take the picture!" It's hilarious. Maybe I'll update this post next week...

When we went to England in 2015, Cheryl came to London for a couple of days to hang out with us.

Yes, I'm standing up straight, and she's squatting to get in the picture with me.

   This time, we went to Cheryl. On the first day we were there, Cheryl took us to Colchester to see Colchester Castle and we went to a small museum full of toys and dolls. We also had to make a shopping stop, due to our desperation to find another suitcase before we had to move on to Germany. One of our big cases had a shattered wheel. We knew we couldn't move those things without wheels. So we managed to finally find a couple of shops that had suitcases. Here you can find suitcases all year long, a million different places. In Clacton there were two places with cases at that time of year, and they had about two or three each. It was like Goldilocks looking for a chair: one was too small, one was too big, (expensive)...except none of them were just right. We settled on one that was a bit smaller than the one with the broken wheel, and more cheaply made, because at least it was pretty big, and didn't cost a million dollars. 

  While we were shopping, Cheryl developed some stomach problems. She didn't feel well, and once we got back to her house she went to bed a little early.

  The next day we went around Clacton a bit. Clacton-on-Sea  is a seaside town, as the name implies. We went down to the pier to 'see the sea'. 

But it wasn't the sort of day you'd typically do that. 

It was cold and rainy.

And VERY windy!

Yes, it was as cold as it looks. 

  I remember when I was in Clacton in 1985. Cheryl and I were looking at postcards of Clacton, all sunny beaches and happy bathers, and Cheryl laughing and saying, "Clacton never looks like that!" It certainly didn't this day.

  Ken tried to get another almost-Mr. Whippy ice cream, once again, without success.

We walked around town a bit. Cheryl was still not feeling well. She was supposed to take a group for a run, but everybody bowed out due to the rain. On the way back to Cheryl's I couldn't believe my eyes. We passed this:

It's a Masonic temple, but the thing is, it has my name on it! 

You never see that name on anything, including people, so I was flabbergasted to find it in Clacton. Cheryl circled back around so I could take a picture.

  Cheryl had planned a trip to a dollhouse/miniatures shop for me, but it was closed!

  So we relaxed at Cheryl's while I fought a bit more with the luggage. I was getting worried we were not going to be able to get everything home. I had had Cheryl buy me some English magazines I wanted, because they were much cheaper there than buying them at home. I also had her buy some of my favourite deodorant for me to take home. Okay. I know. Deodorant, what?! But I am really picky about smells, (and, if you believe my family and friends, about everything else too.), and I really love the blue Mum deodorant. It used to be called Cool Blue, and now it's something else, but it smells the same. I had her buy me loads, like, a whole box full. So I was worrying about the weight. I was heartened by the thought that we still had two more lots of gifts to drop off, one in Germany, and one in Belgium. And they were both heavy. That should free up plenty of weight, right? 

  While we were out shopping for cases the night before, I had bought a second Christmas elf. Wait. A second one? Yes. I bought one in Hull too. I actually saw one later I liked, but didn't buy for financial and weight reasons. But at this point, I was being optimistic. I still thought I could make it work somehow. And at that point, I might have been able to.

  So here are my two little guys. They are today's dolls. These pictures were taken before the fire.

They aren't really that little. They're about a foot tall.

 Anyway, I mentioned before that I saw a million different rip offs of The Elf on the Shelf in all the places we went. I bought the rather nice elf in Hull at the 1 pound shop. And he was, only a pound. (A little over a dollar.) He's the guy on the left. 

He has a sweet face and he was 'made by elves' and 'North Pole approved'.

His name is Ernie. Oh. Look what else his tag says: "Keep away from fire." Were they psychic or what?

  His suit has painted on buttons and a glued on collar and belt.

But at least he has 'real' hands that are stuffed and sewn on.

The one I bought in Clacton made less pretense about him being a 'bad' elf.  

In fact, he seems downright proud of it.

The Elf on the Shelf seems to have gone from an elf who watches  to make sure the children aren't bad, to a little wretch who gets up to all sorts in the middle of the night. His tag even says, "Watch out! Elf is about!" Next they'll be selling us elves to watch our elves. But I digress.

  He has some stitched detail on the front of his coat, and a sewn on belt, but glued on dots for buttons.

And his hands are just flat pieces of felt, glued to his wrists.

   They both have pointy toed elf feet, but flat hand guy also has flat feet. I guess he couldn't get into the army. But at least their feet are stitched on, and not glued.

In Hull I also found this backpack. It's a Christmas ornament, made of felt, and the perfect size for a camping elf...

It even has a rolled up sleeping bag, that you know I took out to see if it could be done. The sleeping bag is pretty small though.

It fits Hull elf Ernie pretty well.

  Clacton elf was a bit more than Hull elf, but not by much. Ken couldn't believe I wanted to buy something else, considering. I got the usual, "Tam!' But what harm could one more little felt elf, who weighed practically nothing and could be shoved in a pocket if I really had to, be?

  So I now had two elves, which is nice, because I love elves, and Christmas, and bringing home Christmas ornaments and things from vacations. Unfortunately these two were still hanging on my bedposts when the fire happened. In a future post we'll see what they looked like after the fire, and what they look like now.

  We left VERY early the next morning, and poor Cheryl even drove us to the station.

Still squatting to get in the photo with me.

  And what of our curse? Let's get serious here for a change. Of all the people who fell upon bad luck during our trip, Cheryl fared the worst. Let's be clear, she's doing pretty well right now, and will be fine. But after we left, Cheryl made a doctor's appointment and had some tests done. Her stomach issues were signs of a serious problem. Cheryl has leukemia. She was lucky it was discovered early and can be controlled by medication. But she has been very tired and Cheryl is used to being very active. So, you know those 'prayers and good thoughts' people are always asking for? Well, whatever you believe works, it would be nice to send some of that Cheryl's way. Ted needs her.

Even if he pretends not to.

    That's today's doll(s). See you tomorrow.

The Grand Tour Part 2: Glasgow and Edinburgh

   We left Iceland, bound for Glasgow. When we arrived we found that we were the last people off the plane, and somebody had locked the door already. We were stuck on the airplane side, and couldn't get through. We had to use the emergency phone and call someone to come let us out. This really should have been a tip off. Everything was going to go like this the whole trip.

  After we were released from the airport we found that the airport is ages away from the actual city. I don't even remember how we got there. Ken says we took a bus, and I think he's right. We arrived in Glasgow, in the rain, with all those bags again. 

I had a couple of disposable rain ponchos in my bag. That nice looking place behind me is unfortunately not where we were staying.

  

The back of the train station was pretty.

Tammy in Scotland.

The outside of a cool looking old pub called MacSorley's.

We had to figure out how to get to our airb&b. We had to stop first for something to eat. We ended up in a little bakery, eating next to a couple of little old ladies who kept us company. One had an especially strong accent, and even though I'm pretty good at deciphering accents, hers was a little difficult. They were very nice ladies and we laughed a bit and enjoyed our food. I had a cheese pie thing, and Ken had a meat pie.  

My hair is so wet! We wanted to try Ironbru, a popular Scottish pop. It was okay, but never going to be a favourite.

       

I had the closet thing to juice they had.

  After eating we headed  for our accommodation. Ken insisted  it was within walking distance, and we couldn't take taxis all the time or we'd spend a fortune. So we walked. With all those cases. And it was raining of course. I don't know if I've mentioned how it rains everywhere I go. It always rains. The first time I went to England, in 1985, they had the wettest April in 50 years and the wettest spring in recent memory, or something like that. That may just have been in Yorkshire, which is where I was a lot of the time. The next year I went back, arriving on 16 August, and apparently,  this happened:

1986 (25th August): EX-HURRICANE 'CHARLEY' RUINS THE AUGUST BANK HOLIDAY

This summer BH (in England, Wales and NI) was the WETTEST on record over England and Wales this century with falls of 25mm or more nearly everywhere, as the re-invigorated former Hurricane "Charley" swept across the country. The inaugural Birmingham city centre motor race ('SuperPrix') had to be abandoned with many laps to go. In Ireland, particularly the Republic, this was a major DISASTER. There were exceptionally large amounts of rainfall in the south and east of the island.

When I went to visit my friend Lisa in Texas in 1988, they were having a drought. As I left for the airport to go home, the rain began, and there were flash floods before I left. It has rained on most major days of my life: my mother's funeral, my wedding day, when I had Fuzzy, my father's funeral day, and I'm not sure it didn't rain when I had Emma and Ivy too. I know it turned quite cold when I had Emma, in June, after a VERY hot spring before that. So it's become something of a joke, that it rains everywhere I go. It always rains. I'm like the Crowded House song: I always take the weather with me. Here's some of the weather news from The Mirror, 26 November, 2022, which was shortly after we left:

"It has been a wet month up and down the country with Shoreham in southern England and Inverbervie in Scotland having provisionally their wettest Novembers on record with 176.4mm and 133mm, respectively, so far. And there is more to come with yellow rain warnings in place for the weekend from the Met Office and the Environment Agency has four flood warnings and 53 flood alerts for England, while there are five flood alerts in Scotland and four in Wales."

  Coincidence? I think not. It's the Tam curse.

  After we finished eating and chatting with the ladies, we took off for our airb&b. It was raining quite a bit and as we waited at a curb to cross a street, a car went by and sent a huge wave of water all over the front of one of the cases Ken was pulling. Remember that for later.

  We found our accommodation, and Ken was shocked and appalled to discover that  it was NOT a ground floor room. There were 59 steps to our room! 59! With two 50 pound cases, plus. My leg made it hard for me to even walk up the stairs, let alone do it carrying cases. I did what I could to help, in spite of Ken telling me not to. We finally got everything upstairs. We had time for a nap before we needed to set out and pick up our tickets to see Michael Palin, (He of Monty Python, and all those travel programmes.), at the theatre not far away. 

  But we had to find the theatre first. Ken managed to use GPS to find it. It wasn't far away really, but my leg made it feel that way. The people in the box office were very nice. I hadn't been able to pay online, from America, so the theatre had held the seats for me unpaid, which was really nice of them. We talked about how we had come from Ohio, and I had to ask what was going to happen to the posters when the show was over. Could I have one? Or two, since I wanted one for Lisa. And what about the big one outside? They were so sweet, and said they'd ask the manager. 

  Once we found the theatre Ken needed to get an actual meal. As I recall, I was still having stomach problems and didn't feel like eating. Ken always feels like eating. He decided he wouldn't get anything because I wasn't eating, and we were short on time anyway. But that meant he'd still be hungry later.  

  Before we knew it, it was time for the show, so we headed back to the theatre, and when I was buying signed books for Lisa and myself before the show started, one of the box office people came and, somewhat secretively, pressed three of the small posters into my hand, all rolled up and with a rubber band on them.  I was told to come back in the morning for the big poster, as they couldn't find the key to the case it was in.

Me with the small poster. My hair was wet again. That happened a lot.

 It was a small theatre, and we had good seats. Unfortunately, my leg bothered me so much that I twitched and fidgeted the whole time. I apologized to the lady next to me for being so annoying.

  The show was interesting, and funny. One more member of Monty Python I've seen live! 

I'm up to three, and if they keep dying off, that'll be it. Three down, one to go now, I guess. Terry Gilliam, I'm coming for you.

  After the show we waited in the pouring rain with some other die hard fans, to see if we could get an in person signature and a photo. There was a fellow loading up the sound equipment who assured us all that Michael leaves right after the show, it's off the stage and out the door. He swore he wasn't lying, and we really should go because Michael was already gone. Of course, they always say that. So we waited. Poor Ken. He was keeping an eye on two different doors for me, in the rain and cold, (And it was cold!), and he didn't even care about Michael Palin.  

  Eventually people started drifting off. Finally the last two ladies left. Ken and I were the last men standing, so to speak. Finally, with the sound guy still assuring us Michael was gone, I trudged away like Charlie Brown. I could hear the music playing in my head.

  When we got a little way down the sidewalk the sound guy came running after us. "It's not a set list, but these are his handwritten notes for me for last minute changes to the show.", and he handed me a little yellow post it note covered in actual Michael Palin handwriting. That was so nice of him.

  After that it took my sweater two days to finish drying out. 

  The rain finally stopped and turned to sort of just mist as we were walking back to THE STEPS. Ken was determined to find a place that was still open after the show where he could get some fish and chips. He finally found one, and he also bought himself a deep fried, battered haggis. Bleh.  

  We were leaving for Edinburgh the next morning, and my leg was killing me. We decided I should park myself at the train station and Ken would run to the theatre for the poster. I was finally ready to eat, so I bought an egg and cress sandwich, which I love and always get when I'm over, and a piece of malt loaf, which I discovered the last time we were in England.

The station was quite pretty inside. I'm not sure if all the woodwork was original, but it looked nice. I spotted a family of kilt wearers, and insisted Ken take a picture, much to his disgust and disbelief. 

But hey. That's something you just don't see in Ohio. 

  Oh, Ken finally made it back, minus poster. Apparently the big posters are provided by a company that comes and puts them up, and takes them down, and the theatre doesn't even have a key to the box. Oh well, I got my small one, and one for Lisa too.

  We caught our train to Edinburgh. Corn Daddy enjoyed another Iron Brew  on the way. This one spelled it's name differently.

  When we got to Edinburgh we found that we were at one of those stations where there are loads of stairs to get to the other side of the platform. Of course, that was the side we needed to be on. There was no other way to get there. My leg was really painful, and Ken's back wasn't too good either. All those cases had to be taken up and down all those stairs. There were four sets of stairs. There were two sets going up, and another two going down. We started trying to  get the biggest cases up at least one flight before hauling the others up. As we were struggling with them, two ladies showed up, going over the stairs themselves. They asked if we needed any help. We assured them that the bags were VERY heavy, and they really didn't want to help! One of them insisted and grabbed one of the huge bags from Ken and ran it up the stairs, and on down the other side. We were stunned, but her friend just smiled and said, "She works out." I'll say she does. She came back up and got the second one and did the same thing. She was like the Energizer Bunny. We managed to get all the cases over, thanks to her, and the two ladies tried to help us figure out where our next airb&b was. They assured us that we did not want to walk with all those cases, and that it was much too far to do that. They advised us to get a taxi and wished us luck, before going on their way. 

  We were trying to figure out which way we even wanted to go, and how we could get a taxi with no phone service, when a family came walking down the street. 

Perplexed Ken at the bottom of those stairs.

We asked them where the best pace to get a taxi or bus nearby would be. The next thing we knew, they had flagged down a taxi for us, and helped us get the cases across the road to the taxi. 

  The next problem was, even the taxi driver couldn't find the address of our airb&b. It didn't seem to exist. We finally managed to figure out, with the help of some passers by, and finally, people who were leaving the same address, that it was an apartment building built into the back of a line of shops, and that the address was it's own thing, having nothing to do with the actual name of the street or building complex. That helps. At least there was a ramp instead of just stairs to the level where there was an elevator, or, since we were in Scotland, a lift. And the place we were staying was nice, even if we did accidentally set up our stuff in the wrong room initially, because the renter had changed our room at the last minute because the room we were supposed to be staying in had a sprinkler problem. He was gone for most of the weekend, so we had the place to ourselves. 

Just us and this ostrich growing out of the wall.

  By sheer coincidence, Michael Palin was in Edinburgh that night. I mean, I knew that when Ken set up the itinerary. But it wasn't planned that we be there just for that. We just happened to travel the same route for a couple of days. Anyway, it was considered: should we go and try again for an autograph and photo? Or should I just collapse in pain? I finally figured, it was a rare chance, and "I'm doing it for Lisa!", who couldn't be there. Lisa and I had said previously, after we went to see John Cleese when I visited her the last time, that if Michael Palin ever tours in the U.S., we will definitely get together and go, even though she's in Texas and I live in Ohio. So I took one for the team and we headed to the theatre in Edinburgh.

  This meant going back to that station...walking back...and taking a train into Edinburgh proper. (We were on the outskirts.) We managed to find the theatre, after having to take a taxi from the train station to make it in time for the end of Michael Palin's show. There was no one out back of the theatre except a couple of people who worked there, out for a smoke break. The guy told us that Michael had security, "because he's the guy from Monty Python, you know?", who would hustle us down to the street and away from the building. But we decided to wait anyway. I really needed to lean on something, but the only things to lean on were the Michael Palin cars, a dumpster, and a wall with slugs all over it. I stood, but I leaned over a lot.  We were eventually herded down to the street, like the guy said. Michael finally came out, and without stopping got directly into his car. He's old. He's probably afraid of Covid, or even the flu. But I did yell, "Hello", waved, and he did smile and wave back...and Ken didn't get the picture.

Me, on the right, taking a picture of Michael Palin, getting in that car. I swear he's there somewhere.

I had somewhat better luck.

Michael, in the rust coloured shoes.

It may not have actually belonged to him, but that car had a parrot in it.

No word on whether or not it was a Dead Parrot.

  We walked around and on the way back to the station we saw a little of Edinburgh.

  

Now we come to the next disaster. That night I tried to take a shower. That was the highest bathtub I have ever seen. I couldn't get in or out without Ken's help, because I have tiny short baby legs, and because my leg hurt so badly. Well, I managed to get it, and while showering my back went into spasm. I was lucky to get out. I was very careful, because if it had gone into full spasm I might have become the guy's roommate, because I might not have been able to move for days.

  The next morning Ken went out on his own to look for some breakfast, because I was out of oomph. He brought back something for me, and eventually I made it out of bed and got dressed. We only had one day to explore Edinburgh. I had really wanted to see Edinburgh Castle, but there was no way I was going to be able to do the walking, especially since now I had the back pain to add to the leg pain. So we took a bus down to Princes Street, and at least saw the castle from afar.

The castle is on the hill. There are a lot of steps, even once you get up there. That was never going to happen that day!

They were handing out free sugar free Iron Bru on the street, and most of the empty cans were ending up on top of this trash bin.

We went down Princes Street.

Tammy World was looking for, and found, a set of bag pipes her size, but she was too cheap to buy them.

We saw the first of several American candy stores that we saw in several different countries. 

Souvenir bears.

Dolls for you! At last! 

More dolls!

Look! More kilt guys.

 It got dark very early while we were over, about 4 or 5 o'clock.  

The sun setting on Edinburgh Castle.

  We needed to eat. I had banned Ken from buffets since Covid started, and up to that point he had gone with it. But he discovered there was a place that served a buffet of food from around the world, and he was determined to go. I complained, but he was going to do it. He set his GPS to find the place, and he was going. We found the street that was the way there, but it was the steepest hill I have ever seen, and that includes where Ken's sister Diane lives in Huddersfield. I tried to walk down it, but my leg wasn't having it. I told Ken, "If I walk down this hill, there's no way I'm getting back up it." It was late by this time, and my leg had just about met it's limit anyway. I said if he wanted to go eat, to go, but I would wait for him right where I was, which was sitting on some steps on that side street. He refused of course, and grumblingly settled on the restaurant I had found, right back up the hill and around the corner.  It was very pretty. It was called Howies.

Me and our shopping in front of Howies.

As with most places we came across in Britain, Germany, and Belgium, there were vegan and vegetarian options, including vegetarian haggis, which I tried.

It was all right. Quite oaty. It came with 'neeps and tatties', (turnips and potatoes). I didn't care for the neeps. They were a bit bitter. There was also soup. I think mine was leek and potato. Ken's was seafood of some sort.

We finished up with a couple of desserts: a fruit crumble, and banoffee pie.

I actually preferred the banoffee pie.

We had more walking to the bus stop, to the train station, and then got lost walking from the station to our accommodation. My leg was killing me.

The next morning we got a taxi to the big station, avoiding all those stairs at the small one, and headed for Hull, where two of Ken's sisters live, stopping at Darlington on the way to see my friend Penny.

Chimney sweepers, established in 1837

I love seeing stuff like this. I took this from the taxi on the way to the station.

 

Remember Greyfriars's Bobby? There was a Disney movie about him.

People rub the statue's nose for luck, so it's a bright brass colour now.

 More on what happened after Scotland in the next post.