European Vacation

To futher confuse and disorient our children, we left today for a week in Cornwall (in Rock ), where we're sharing a beach house with my friend Kristine (AKA The Bean). I'm told that beach trips here are a different sort - part swimsuit, part wellington boot, flying kites, chasing waves, and tromping through the fens. It is officially our first UK road trip, a 5.5 hour drive. Pray that we don't get trapped on the roundabouts like Chevy Chase and Beverly d'Angelo.

Our first evening in, the kids are gaga with sandy joy, as are we. The cottage (exposed beams, a chicken coop in the garden and amber waves of grain in back) with modern amenities, is perfect (just check that view, lovely, and only two minutes from the beach). It's not North Carolina (no sandy dunes, no dudes, no roaring surf, bonfires, no drive-thru breweries) but tonight I find myself happy for the change. We are all about change right now.

The drive was effortless, except for the last nail-gripping 14 miles of two-way traffic on a single lane. Even the rest-stops (or as they call them 'welcome breaks') are like being on Mars for an American (think: families picnicking on the grass, ponds and fountains, a Waitrose (Whole Foods equivalent), fresh flowers and Starbucks with plushy sofas)...Where ARE we?

The Bean must be credited, once again, being our bestest resource and friend this side of the pond -- arriving at the house with bubbles, sand buckets and shovels and chocolate mousse for the kids. We are working to clone her.