Bland food in England

 

Our daughters live in West Molesey which is very close to Hampton Court, a castle mostly associated with Henry VIII who must have contemplated ridding himself of his wives during his summer vacations up on his hunting grounds near the River Thames.

We’ve visited here a good few times since we moved to the USA in 2001.  One of the biggest miscalculations in our move to the USA was failing to realize how hard it would be to get visas for our daughters to live there with us.  It turned out to be nearly impossible.

The US immigration rules for my initial work visa (and later as Green Card applicants)  included children under 21 and so Emma (who was already 21) was ruled out and Jess (who was 18) ended up going to University in South Africa and then had to get a visitor’s visa to visit us after she turned 21.  Applying for family members to get across had an approximately 10 year long process time in 2001 when we arrived and if their circumstances changed (marriage and 2 children each) it would set the clock back on the application.   So we gave up on the idea by 2005.  

They both were able to work in the UK on the strength of their grandfather’s birth certificate and each ended up settling here permanently, Emma in 2003 and Jess in 2014.

I remember telling Anne once we had moved to the USA that we had, by implication of being willing to relocate all of us to the USA, given our children permission to settle anywhere in the world and Matt and Nick have embraced traveling since they graduated from university - first Matt (Senegal, Vietnam, South Korea, Vietnam, Guatemala, Mexico) and then Nick (Guatemala, Argentina, Mexico).  Who knows where they’ll settle?

Today I had a ‘brilliant’ breakfast at a cafe down the road from where we are staying:  steak and kidney pie, chips and peas.

 It tasted like cardboard with a soggy wood filling covered in a gravy of warmed wood glue.  They say that English food is bland but unfortunately my meal’s taste was no fault of the chef.  I tested positive for COVID last Monday night and began to realize by Thursday that the reason the orange juice wasn’t as great as in valencia had nothing to do with the juice.  I appear to have no sense of smell or taste at the moment.  Maltesers taste pretty bland too which is a big tragedy.

Anne joined me by testing positive on Thursday - and we are now holed up in a hotel for a few days to try to avoid infecting the rest of our families.

We feel ok - flu symptoms that are relatively mild.  Headaches that are annoying but not debilitating and some coughing.

The current approach to COVID in the UK is pretty relaxed for children 

“They can go back to school, college or childcare when they feel better or do not have a high temperature.” - even if they have mild symptoms such as sore throats and runny noses.

Adults are cautioned to avoid contact with others for 5 days after testing positive and avoid contact for at-risk people for 10 days after testing positive.

This has made me much more aware of how lax my precautions have been against COVID - even though we are not very sick it has been a little costly to have to find a hotel for a few days and it has made things miserable for all of us.

We are responding as we would have in America - where half the population still believe that wearing masks is a good idea in these circumstances - and so we are masking up when we go into the lobby and eating outdoors or in our room. 

 I am on day 6 today but still diligently putting my mask on.  Like the English I want to avoid the embarrassment of looking odd with a mask on but my genuine desire to not inflict COVID on others wins every time.   The net of which is I’d probably rather not leave the room at all for a while if I can help it.

I have been testing how poorly Anne feels by asking her a few "Do you feel like?" questions.

• A long walk?
• A roll in the hay?
• A swim in the Mediterranean?
•  Watching a movie?

This morning the only one Anne agreed she felt like was a swim in the Mediterranean which is pretty impossible right now and so we decided to go for coffee and croissants on the hotel terrace which was immediately ruled out when the hotel staff told me we needed a breakfast voucher from the front desk.  I decided I did not want to pay for a Full English Breakfast if all we wanted was coffee and a fancy French bun and we walked off in a huff.

So, stir crazy with cabin fever, we set off on the long walk that Anne had not wanted - to the nearby town (30min). 

Morning walk back of beyond - photo by Anne

When Anne saw that a large part of this was along a main road she opted to cross the road and go on to a misty field where we re-calibrated our plans after looking at Google Maps.  I found a coffee shop in this direction and it was there that I found my disappointing pot pie breakfast.   

During breakfast I persuaded Anne that we should visit a camera shop in the nearby town - still around 30min walk away - only to find when we were five minutes away that it was closed on Sundays.  

So here we are back in the hotel room and the list of things Anne feels like doing if considerably short.